Come On, Violate Me

by lacepirate

Summary:

“You truly believe that you would be able to simply strong-arm nearly anyone into submission — bend them to your whim with your strength alone?”

“I— yeah, I guess.” He says flippantly, shrugging his broad, muscular shoulders.

Viktor knows he shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t push the hair’s breadth of the tightrope they’ve been walking as of late. Precariously balancing between sexual jests and outright flirtation, for fear of it snapping, allowing Viktor to finally plunge headlong into the icy depths of rejection and indignation and revulsion below; lapping dangerously at the rocky bed of his own making.

“So do me.”

“…What?” Jayce balks, wide eyes blown and heady under the dim lighting of the lab’s falsified night sky.

“Do me, if you think it so simple. Make me submit to you.”

-

Jayce thinks he has what it takes to be dominant. Viktor begs to differ.

[Written for Bottom Jayce Week Day 7: Free Day/Niche Kinks]

Notes:

please heed those tags!

 

this work was HEAVILY inspired by viklooud's (tumblr/insta/twt) breathtaking art of Viktor smoking (credited with permission) please go show them some love if you haven't already!!

more detail/warning in the end notes for those who want them, and to those who don't, please enjoy and consider dropping a comment even if it's just a keysmash! they truly inspire me to write more depravity.

you can find me as learnrabid on tumblr and bsky and to a lesser degree, twt as well

I took the idea of their lab being underground from a video in the extras of the blu ray release of season one where the animators talked about creating the set for jayce and viktor's lab! I loved the idea that they had to be in a bunker so the city didn't have to deal with any more undue explosions lmao

(title from southbound by Artemas)

It’s late. Much too late to be having this conversation. 

They’re in the danger zone now; in the hours long after the sun has set but still long before it will rise again. There’s an innate rawness and vulnerability to the hour that turns teasing into temptation and makes perverse honesty a given. 

And in their lab, so far underground — an unfortunate necessity, born of their experimentation with such volatile materials — with their fake window and imitation sky; isolated from their academic peers who might also be burning the midnight oil. 

There’s nobody close enough to them, or their reinforced bunker masquerading as a laboratory, to hear them scream or yell or beg or plead. 

“I think I could do it.” Jayce says, semi-arrogantly; affronted that Viktor would suggest otherwise.  

“You — Jayce Talis — the man who habitually seeks ways to be beneath another? The man who brags regularly to me about how well your anonymous tryst was able to fuck you into submission? The man who barely grazes his cock when he masturba—”

“Okay, okay — I fucking get it.” His shoulders slump slightly from where he sits in his stationery chair beside Viktor’s rolling one. “Look, I know my… history paints a different picture, but I think I have enough experience to be able to figure it out.”

“It’s not about haphazardly figuring it out, Jayce. There is much planning and calculation. You have to know what makes them tick to be able to tear them apart.” Viktor punctuates his words by slotting one of the final gears of their in-progress section into its new home inside the prototype. 

Jayce’s gaze follows his fingers as he wipes the excess industrial lubricant on an old rag. 

“I just don’t think a lot of people are that involved about it, V.” Jayce says as he leans against the back of his chair. He’s distracted enough that he’s seemingly given up working for the time being.

Viktor looks over at the man next to him incredulously. Surely he has to be joking.

“You truly believe that you would be able to simply strong-arm nearly anyone into submission—  bend them to your whim with your strength alone?”

“I— yeah, I guess.” He says flippantly, shrugging his broad, muscular shoulders. 

Viktor knows he shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t push the hair’s breadth of the tightrope they’ve been walking as of late. Precariously balancing between sexual jests and outright flirtation, for fear of it snapping, allowing Viktor to finally plunge headlong into the icy depths of rejection and indignation and revulsion below; lapping dangerously at the rocky bed of his own making. 

“So do me.”

It’s the lateness of the hour, he justifies, that pushes him to say it. 

“…What?” Jayce balks, wide eyes blown and heady under the dim lighting of the lab’s falsified night sky. 

Viktor sighs and extricates the pack of cigarettes he keeps hidden in the bottom of his drawer, itching for any relief from the clawing vulnerability that gnaws at his chest. 

Jayce watches diligently as he retrieves the lighter from his Academy-issued vest pocket, that he keeps on his person at all times, and ignites the end of the stick held between pursed lips. The younger man swallows once as he stares, his throat bobbing with the movement. 

He inhales the initial lungful of smoke, intoxicating in the way it immediately soothes the light tremor in his hands. Viktor exhales through his nose before speaking.

“Do me, if you think it so simple. Make me submit to you.” 

There’s a pregnant silence that hangs in the air, thicker than the tendrils of smoke Viktor has blown between them. 

Viktor swivels the chair to face Jayce directly, and takes the time to slowly cross one leg over the other, enticing him to act. 

Jayce still stares, not stunned into silence but clearly contemplating his actions, as Viktor pulls the cigarette to his lips once more and greedily inhaling. 

Viktor knows he shouldn’t do it. 

It’s the lateness of the hour, he justifies, as he exhales the carcinogenic breath directly in Jayce’s face. 

Jayce stands so fast that he sends the chair skidding behind him, the metal meeting concrete floor with a harsh clang that might as well fall on deaf ears. 

In an instant, he surges forward, grabbing a fistful of the fabric of Viktor’s vest and bodily hauling him to his feet. Somewhere behind him, his propped up cane clatters to the floor as well. 

Viktor revels in the feeling of his breath harshly leaving his body as Jayce manhandles him, slamming him face down, bent over the edge of the desk. He manages to keep hold of his cigarette, balancing it between the index and middle finger of his right hand. 

A sizeable, warm hand engulfs nearly the entirety of Viktor’s head and pushes him harder into the surface of the desk, Jayce’s thumb slotting perfectly against his cheekbone.

Viktor lazily brings the cigarette back to his lips and takes another burning inhale, before grinning wolfishly at the wall with his head being forcibly pressed into the table.  

He flicks the ash off the end, sacrilegiously dirtying their work bench, as Jayce’s other hand brutishly pulls and yanks and tears at the waist of Viktor’s trousers. The button holding them together goes flying after one strong tug, scattering across the floor to surely join the other mishandled objects. 

The chill air of the underground laboratory greets Viktor’s skin first, kissing at the crux of his thighs and teasing at the sensitive skin on the underside of his sack. 

Two large, warm hands spread him open for presentation, a thumb on either side; the entirety of his ass cheeks engulfed by Jayce’s grip. 

Viktor can feel him lean down to get closer before he brutishly spits a globule of gathered saliva directly onto his exposed hole. With rough and jerky movements, Viktor inhales ever so slightly as Jayce thrusts a finger into him, reveling in the slight sting of his handling. 

Almost too quickly, Jayce drops to his knees with a painful thud, eager to let his tongue lave around his finger, lapping at Viktor’s skin as though it was a delectable ambrosia. 

Viktor laughs demeaningly, holding the cigarette between his lips and reaching around with one hand to thread roughly through Jayce’s hair. 

Jayce shakes his hand off after a moment and growls, low and gravelly, as he withdraws his finger to harshly knead Viktor’s ass, punctuating himself with a sharp slap that may or may not leave a mark for Viktor to prod at tomorrow. 

He knows it only fuels Jayce’s annoyance when Viktor refuses to react.

“You think it’s funny?” 

Viktor exhales sharply through his nose; a diminutive chuckle. 

“I do, actually.” He mumbles through pursed lips. 

Viktor returns the previously shunned hand to Jayce’s hair, carding through just once before grabbing a fistful and wrenching his head back unforgivingly. He keeps his hold as he gets himself upright once more and turns around so his ass rests against the edge of the tabletop and his half hard cock sways tantalizingly in front of Jayce’s face. 

Jayce’s fingers twitch with need, until he begins to roughly paw at Viktor’s exposed thighs to occupy them; convincing himself he’s still the one in control. 

Viktor sucks in another lungful and exhales through his nose without taking the cigarette from his mouth. 

Jayce remains with his neck bowed uncomfortably, eyes flitting between Viktor’s face and his cock. 

He spreads his legs a little more, unfortunately hindered by his pants still wrapped around his knees. Jayce swallows thickly and finally settles his gaze on the way Viktor’s free hand works himself to full mast. 

The exact calculated outcome. 

He releases himself with his left hand, but keeps Jayce in his right, and finally removes the cigarette, dangling between his lips. 

“You conflate physical prowess with sexual dominance, Jayce.”

Viktor allows it when Jayce surges forward, latching himself to his testicles, sloppily taking one in his mouth at a time, drenching his chin and the inside of Viktor’s thighs with his saliva. 

Viktor laughs at him again.

“You were supposed to make me submit, and yet here you are on your knees in supplication.”

Jayce, as calculated, takes the bait. 

He rises from his knees, placing a hand on the centre of Viktor’s chest and harshly pushes him back until his spine makes contact with the surface of the work bench with a dull thud. Viktor allows him to crudely remove the remainder of his pants, pulling his shoes along with them and throwing them over his shoulder; uncaring of where they land. 

With a heavy hand still on his chest, Jayce finally frees himself of his confinement; his cock standing heavily with arousal. 

Jayce bows his head forward and spits another glob of saliva onto himself and quickly strokes to spread it evenly. 

The outstretched hand on Viktor’s chest rapidly inches upward until it comes to rest against his throat, wrapping around him like crude necklace. 

Viktor scoffs at him, and rolls his eyes for added irritation. “You are so easy it is laughable.” 

His primitive collar tightens minutely, just barely restricting the flow of blood to his brain, enough that Viktor can hear the slight strain of the pounding of his heart inside his head. 

Just for a moment, he allows himself the rush when Jayce weakens his grip once more; afraid to fully commit. 

“You think so, do you?” Jayce snarls through gritted teeth. 

The head of his cock teases at Viktor’s woefully underprepared hole. Viktor grins up at him, sharp canines threatening against the edge of his lips. 

“I know so,” he revels in the way Jayce’s eyes go wide with untamed rage. “You think that being big and mean and handling me roughly is all it will take, because that is how startlingly little it takes to bed you.” 

Viktor pushes himself up to his elbows, against the force being applied to his throat. Jayce’s cock throbs and twitches violently against him, pleading for stimulation. 

Viktor’s wolfish grin only intensifies at his confirmed suspicion. 

“You enjoy being treated like a toy; a thing. You get off on being degraded. To be told you are beneath the heel of my boot, and unworthy of the spit in my mouth. But I don’t need to manhandle you to get you to bow to my whim, do I?” 

Viktor shifts his weight to lean against his right hand and brings his the other hand holding the now depleted cigarette stub up to the sensitive skin of Jayce’s inner forearm and presses it firmly against him, effectively extinguishing the burning embers. 

Jayce wails so delectably it makes Viktor salivate. 

Viktor peels the now extinguished butt away from Jayce’s forearm, pretending he’s not as excited as he is at the fresh mark of possession. 

He could explain it away as a small mishap at the forge, or an accident in the lab. But Viktor knows how valiantly his cock will swell and his fingers will twitch when he’s asked about it; how  Viktor, though aching and below him, was able to bring the broad, hulking man to his knees with nothing more than a lit cigarette and his will. 

Viktor has no care as to where the butt ends up when he flicks it over his shoulder. 

He maneuvers one foot to push at the hinge of Jayce’s hips, and his newly freed hand to push slightly down on the top of his shoulder, and the younger man folds like a wet rag, falling painfully to his haunches once more. 

Jayce stares up at him with wide, wet eyes, positively sparkling with submission. 

“Make me come and I will consider fucking you.” Viktor spits, as though he is barely worth the effort of his breath. 

Viktor barely gets a fist back in his hair before Jayce fervently descends on him, licking up his shaft with his tongue and rolling his balls in one large, warm hand. 

He enjoys the treatment for the moment, before he decides to test the considerable upper limit of Jayce’s gag reflex. 

Viktor roughly leads him where he wants him to be, all while the man tries desperately not to detach his tongue from his balls, whining and moaning and crying inevitably when the contact does end up breaking, connected only by a thin string of saliva. 

He maneuvers him upward, to which Jayce quickly picks up on the hint, and starts to drool and lick and lave at Viktor’s cock. 

Viktor gets quickly tired of the soft treatment meant only for his benefit. 

Placing both hands on Jayce’s head, one on either side, he roughly feeds his cock through plush, pink lips, past his wet, warm tongue, until the tip hits the back of his throat, and then keeps pushing. 

Jayce convulses intoxicatingly around him, and Viktor has to tilt his head back and stare at the ceiling so he doesn’t immediately shoot his spend straight down his throat. 

Viktor holds him there, with his nose buried against his pubic bone, as his body fights against the treatment. Jayce gags against him, but encourages him further with two hands gripping Viktor’s ass.

He chuckles darkly when he looks back down at the man, upon seeing the delectable shade of scarlet his face is quickly turning, and the way the veins in his neck bulge against the lack of oxygen. 

The next wet gag has saliva pouring in droves out of the corners of his mouth that spills down his neck and perversely stains his vest. 

“Oh, darling — were none of your trysts big enough to properly fuck your throat?”

Jayce, valiantly, shakes his head just once; as much movement as he can manage with how firmly Viktor holds him, and how badly he wants to stay there, nestled against Viktor’s pubic hair and unable to breathe. 

“Not to worry, I will train that reflex out of you yet.”

Jayce’s chest heaves violently when he pulls him back by the grip on his head, as though he had just run the expanse of the campus thrice. 

“Please,” Jayce begs through the new hoarseness of his throat. 

“Please what?”

Jayce shuffles ever closer to him, his cock proudly weeping and wetting the legs of his trousers. 

“Please.” He repeats. 

Viktor regards his pleading eyes with a falsified sneer. 

“It’s quite pathetic how I’ve barely touched you, and yet you’re already too cock-drunk to use your words like a big boy.”

Viktor doesn’t wait for a response before dragging him back to swallow his length once more; he simply holds the head of the younger man on his knees, fucking his face and twisting his worship into something so heinous and perverse and sacrilegious it repels the attention of everything holy. 

Wet, sloppy gags fill the room so explicitly that if anyone were to walk by, their activities would be as clear as day. Could even curiously poke their head inside of the unlocked door, only to find the Man of Progress on his knees and quite literally gagging for it. 

Jayce gulps heavy breaths when and where he can, as Viktor allows him to; his balls slap against his chin, sticking to his face with every thrust that foams the torrent of saliva from Viktor’s strategic abuse of his pharyngeal reflex. 

When Viktor feels that one of Jayce’s hands has crept south and begun working himself with a loose fist, he holds his face against his pelvis again, seemingly uncaring of when he last took a breath. 

He kicks away the hand wrapped around Jayce’s cock until he gets the message and brings it back up to rest against Viktor’s hip instead. 

“If I catch you touching yourself without permission again, I will lock you in chastity for a month. Am I understood?”

Jayce nods as best he can, firmly gripping at Viktor’s hips, a small groan escaping past his vocal chords and sending vibrations up the length of Viktor’s cock, still sheathed inside his throat. 

It takes all of his resolve to not come on the spot, though his impending orgasm licks heat dangerously close in the pit of his belly. 

Viktor resumes his rough handling, this time chasing the flame with a single-minded purpose. 

Jayce’s eyes roll back, his eyelids fluttering, as he grows even more lax against him. 

“Look at you,” Viktor says with amusement. “Ever pliant to be nothing but a sleeve for my cock; a warm hole for me to fuck.”

The only strain left in Jayce’s body sits in his neglected cock; even his hands are now barely hanging onto Viktor’s hips as he fucks his mouth with reckless abandon, slipping ever so slightly with every thrust. 

Viktor allows him one haggard breath before he holds his head taught against his pelvis, coming so far down Jayce’s throat he skips his waiting tongue entirely, and paints his esophagus a pearlescent white. 

When he extricates himself from the warm flesh of Jayce’s mouth, the younger man coughs twice and gasps for air for a solid minute, leaning his forehead against Viktor’s thigh.

“Viktor,” he croaks, his voice so hoarse he can barely get through Viktor’s name. “Please.” He begs, through tear-filled lashes.

Viktor grips his hair once more and shakes him lightly in warning. 

“Please what, Jayce? How am I to know what you want if you don’t use your words?” 

Jayce mouths at the bare expanse of his leg, anywhere he can reach without having to move his head. 

“Please fuck me,” he sighs, half muffled through Viktor’s skin in between his lips. 

“You were so sure of yourself not thirty minutes ago, and now you beg me to fill you?”

Viktor cards his fingers through his hair, teasingly scraping Jayce’s scalp with his nails. 

Unexpectedly, Jayce nods in agreement. “Don’t care anymore, I need you— anything inside me.”

Viktor grins wickedly. “You cannot come without being filled, can you?”

Sheepishly, Jayce shakes his head and avoids Viktor’s gaze, continuing to mouth at his thigh, nipping gently with his teeth if only for something to do. 

Viktor wrenches his head back again with the hand still in his hair. 

“I asked you a question, Jayce.” He spits venomously through clenched teeth. 

Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, and his mouth hangs open. 

Jayce shakes his head again. “No… I can’t.” 

“And what exactly was your plan once you were inside me, hm? To figure it out?” 

The younger man flushes an exquisite shade of pink and looks shamefully away from him. 

“…Didn’t think that far.” 

Viktor rolls his eyes and finally releases the hold on his hair. 

“No you wouldn’t, would you? Because by the time you get someone’s cock inside you, you’re already as pliant as a doll, fit for whatever they please.”

Once Jayce’s gaze finally makes it back to his, timid and pleading, Viktor is beginning to long for his mouth again. 

“Isn’t that right, Jayce?”

Jayce nods his affirmation with wet doe eyes. 

“Face down, against the table.” Viktor orders, watching him scramble to his position. 

He’s quick to oblige, leaning forward against the workbench on his forearms, having shoved the mess of gears and tools out of the way with no care as to how they were sorted by section. 

Viktor slowly and tantalizingly removes the remainder of his own Academy uniform; the cravat, vest, and shirt joining the pile of discarded clothing already on the floor. 

Jayce watches him over his shoulder, shaking excitedly, when Viktor stalks closer to him with his uneven gait. 

The younger man bites his lip to stifle what surely would have been at least a gasp, or perhaps a whimper, when Viktor eases Jayce’s unbuttoned pants and underwear to mid thigh. He kicks at his feet until his stance is wide enough for Viktor’s liking. 

The second whine he doesn’t catch in time, leaking high and airy from his throat, as Viktor peels away the layers still on the top half of Jayce’s body; until he can rake his nails down the freed skin of his back and his nipples pebble against the offending chill of the lab. 

Viktor smirks to himself, when Jayce bows his neck defeatedly and rests his head against the bench, watching his cock leak steady droplets onto the concrete floor under him. 

He reaches for the abandoned tube of industrial silicone lubricant, amongst the now unorganized piles of machinery, just above Jayce’s head; squeezes out an ample amount directly onto Jayce’s twitching hole. He hisses at the temperature and Viktor grins. 

“When was the last time, Jayce?”

Viktor mercilessly spears two fingers into him and spreads them apart. It’s almost fascinating how quickly Jayce accepts the treatment and subtly begs for more. Viktor quickly obliges with a third. Two of his fingers is more like one of Jayce’s, in any case. 

Jayce sighs out a reedy whine, his eyes helpless to stay open. 

“T-two days.”

Viktor whistles lowly at his sheepish response and chuckles when he sees his face heat again. 

“Wow, two whole days without anyone inside of you, no wonder you’re gagging for it.” He mocks. 

Viktor spreads his index, middle, and ring fingers apart, half buried inside of him; he laughs again when he sees how Jayce tries to coax them back inside. Viktor reaches back up to the discarded piles of tools behind Jayce’s head, loosely examining the selected object for jagged edges, and smiling satisfactorily to himself when he finds none. 

Retracting his fingers from Jayce’s whorish hole, the man cries out and all but sobs at the loss, coming increasingly more broken through his abused throat. 

His previously closed eyes fly open when Viktor prods at him with a smooth, blunt acrylic that he clearly recognizes as much too cold to pass for any human appendage. 

“Viktor— fuck,”

The handle of Jayce’s favoured screwdriver is eagerly accepted by his gluttonous hole. 

Viktor maneuvers it around experimentally, thrusting it in and out of him a few times using the long stem of the flathead as a handle; a crude inverse of its proper use. 

Jayce pleads through laboured breaths. “I’m not gonna last, Viktor I’m gonna—”

Viktor abruptly stops his ministrations, earning a frustrated keen from the man below him. 

“No, you will not.” He says, resolute. 

“Viktor, please—”

“No. You will come when I want you to and no sooner.”

Viktor lets go of the stem of the screwdriver, watching Jayce clench desperately around it, attempting to coax some kind of stimulation from the unforgiving material. 

He slaps a flat and open palm against Jayce’s right ass cheek, sharp and heavy; a painful echo ringing off stone walls. 

“Keep testing my patience and I will leave you like this for the custodians to find come morning.” 

“No, please,” Jayce cries. 

Viktor knows it’s not the prospect of being found with his pants around his thighs and the tool in his ass that gives him pause. It’s the aspect of being left, wanting and unsatisfied, for hours on end.

Two more heavy spanks ring out as Viktor strategically places his hand to fall in the exact same spot over the bright red welting that is beginning to form. 

“Every protestation will earn you more.”

Viktor openly fists his own hardening cock as Jayce fights with himself, looking back over his shoulder and biting his lip to keep himself from crying out. Or perhaps deciding how many more hits he wants to endure. 

He waits, calm and collected, enjoying the drag of his foreskin repeatedly engulfing his sensitive head and revealing it to the cool air once more.  

Viktor only obliges him again, wrapping his hand around the tool’s stem once more when Jayce goes lax against the table; his sweaty chest pressed against the cool metal, arms splaying out in front of him as he accepts the only fate that Viktor offers. 

He fucks him with his own tool in a nature not unlike their work; experimental and exploratory. It seems that it’s not the object itself that does very much for him — though he is significantly more sated once filled — but rather when Viktor stops treating him like a person being fucked, and starts regarding him as an object being toyed with. 

Viktor twists and pulls and pushes and prods at him with the flared handle of his own screwdriver with all the disregard with which he treats their abandoned prototype. 

Jayce both loathes that his release is being denied, and basks in the objectification of Viktor’s treatment; wantonly moaning and writhing against the work bench beneath him. 

Viktor cannot, in recent or distant memory, recall ever being as aroused as he is at current. 

Somewhat rudely, he pulls the object from the warm embrace of Jayce’s insides and tosses yet another mistreated object to the floor to be dealt with later. 

Jayce cries out at the loss. 

Even though it is incredibly unneeded, Viktor squeezes more of the machine lubricant from the tube onto the puffy rim of the man below him; if only so he can hear the obscene sounds of the fluids when he’s fully sheathed inside of him. 

He smears it around and into his sloppy hole with three fingers. 

“On your back.” Viktor orders. 

Jayce is eager to comply. He immediately lifts himself up on strong arms — if not a little shaky — and shifts himself around until he’s laid on his back on the table, his hips poised in just the perfect position to allow him to be fucked without any hindrance.  

Viktor absently wonders if he’s brought anyone here before, since he seems so knowledgeable about the best angles. 

He makes quick work of Jayce’s remaining pants and shoes, haphazardly throwing them aside. 

With the movement of his legs now unimpeded, Jayce brings a hand under each of his knees and presents himself like a bitch in heat. 

Viktor bypasses his twitching dick entirely in favour of placing a threatening hand possessively over his throat, while he lines the blunt head of his drooling cock to kiss Jayce’s entrance. 

He slides home, entirely consumed in one fell swoop, with a grotesque squelch as their bodies meet. 

It punches the air from Jayce’s lungs and leaves him wheezing, the muscles in his neck straining against Viktor’s palm. 

Viktor basks in the searing, all encompassing heat of Jayce. 

“I’m not sure which I prefer more, your throat or your cunt.” 

He revels in the way Jayce’s pupils flare, and involuntarily groans when he flutters and spasms around him. 

Viktor stars fucking him in earnest, drunk on the crude sounds of wet skin against skin every time their hips harshly meet. 

Leaning forward with a hand still loosely gripped on his throat, Viktor all but folds Jayce in half, until his face is hovered directly over top of the younger man. 

Jayce pleads through heavy pants, his tongue lolling loosely in his mouth with the force of Viktor’s thrusts. 

Viktor rolls his tongue around in his mouth for a moment, pursing his lips and teasing the bubbling saliva at the threshold of his mouth. 

Jayce, as predicted, opens his mouth in waiting, extending his tongue past his lips as to not miss a singular drop. 

Viktor closes his lips and swallows the mouthful. 

“Beg me for it.” 

Jayce’s expression grows even more desperate and pleading.

“Please, Viktor. I want it, please—”

Viktor grips the bottom of his jaw with the hand previously wrapped around his throat and shakes him lightly; Jayce goes slack against his grip. 

“Words, Jayce.” He spits with vitriol. 

The man’s cheeks heat to a delicious red; Viktor watches in awe as it travels and stains the tips of his ears and blotches his neck. 

With wet eyes, he pleads. “Spit in my mouth… please. I’ll swallow your every fluid if you just let me have it. Please, Viktor.” 

Satisfied, Viktor grins and punctuates himself with three more hard thrusts, watching Jayce’s eyelids flutter and his eyes roll back into his head when he grazes the younger man’s prostate. 

Viktor coaxes his jaw open with the hand still on his face, and his tongue rolls out from his mouth once more. 

Slowly, tantalizingly, Viktor gathers another mouthful of saliva and lets the globule slowly drip down from his open mouth as Jayce desperately extends his neck and sticks his tongue out further; as though he simply cannot wait the extra milliseconds it would take for it to reach him. 

Jayce greedily accepts his offering, swallowing his saliva down with barely contained, intoxicated glee.

“Please Viktor, I need to come, let me come, pleasepleaseplease—”

“You may come after I am finished with you.” Viktor says sternly. 

Jayce lets his head fall back against the table with a thump, screwing his eyes shut in concentration, or perhaps in desperation. 

His cock is flushed a red so deep it appears almost purple, steadily leaking a patch of pre-come onto his stomach, the bulk of it ends up pooling in his navel.

Viktor continues fucking ruthlessly into him, dipping two fingers into the mess on his belly and scooping some of it back out and shoving them into Jayce’s whining mouth. 

He accepts them and avariciously cleans his own mess of fluids from Viktor’s fingers; his tongue dipping as far down as the web between his digits, and doubling back again, making sure he misses nothing. 

Viktor withdraws his hand from the entanglement of Jayce’s tongue in favour of putting his hands on top of where Jayce still holds his legs open. Viktor spreads him a few extra inches in a way he knows will make his muscles strain, and drills into him with a harrowing efficiency, chasing his second release of the night. 

The rapidly heating and tightly wound coil inside of him burns hotter with every thrust; every  lewd squelch of messy, excessively lubricated skin against skin that spreads and dampens Viktor’s whole lower body in addition to the workbench under them. 

His pace stutters and Viktor seizes, pressing himself so close that there isn’t an atom of space between them, as his orgasm crashes over him in undulating waves; staining Jayce’s insides and ruining him for anyone else but Viktor. 

The second that Jayce feels Viktor twitching, emptying himself inside of him, he clenches down almost painfully on the length of Viktor’s cock, and shoots pearly ropes of come up the length of his torso; some of it getting as far as his chin. 

Regretfully soon and with great effort, Viktor pulls his cock free from the velvety clutch of Jayce’s cunt, shakily lowering himself to his knees and latching his mouth around his sloppy, abused rim and sucks. 

Jayce positively wails, twitching and seizing and screaming with overstimulation. His hands fall desperately to Viktor’s hair as Viktor steals back his own release with his tongue, prodding and lapping and licking at Jayce’s walls. 

He goes limp, dirtied chest heaving, as Viktor rises once more, taking back his previous position, his face hovering directly over Jayce’s own. 

Jayce stares at him, fucked out and cock-drunk. 

Viktor raises one eyebrow in waiting. 

“Please, let me have it,” he gasps between gulping breaths, opening his mouth and begging through damp lashes. 

Viktor obliges, letting the obscene mixture of his own spend, lubricant, and saliva be pulled by gravity, down into the eager and waiting warmth of Jayce’s needy mouth. 

Jayce greedily swallows without hesitation. 

Viktor’s hand again finds the underside of his jaw, gently holding him in place as he inches forward, their lips brushing as he speaks. 

“You are a depraved man, Jayce Talis.”

He envelops the younger man in a searing, explicit kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and spit, chasing the intoxicating taste of their combined fluids from the back of his mouth. 

Jayce parts from him with kiss-reddened lips. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining when you were coming down my throat,” Jayce playfully scoffs. “Don’t pretend like you have any moral high ground here, V.”

Viktor smirks, humming in consideration. 

“We ought to test how many things I’d have to put inside you to get you to stop talking for a few hours.” 

“Viktor, I’d let you be elbow deep inside me if it meant you would fuck me like that again.” 

Viktor denies the flare of arousal it sends directly to his spent cock. 

“You should be careful what you wish for, Jayce. It may be more than you can handle.”

Jayce fervently shakes his head. “No, never. I’ll take anything that you’ll give me.” 

Viktor chuckles at Jayce’s enthusiasm, nipping softly at his lips until Jayce allows him entry and entangles their tongues together in the hopes of never having to separate them again. 

“In that case, I think something may be able to be arranged.” 

There’s nobody close enough to them, in their underground bunker masquerading as a laboratory, to hear Viktor coax supple moans and gentle sighs from the lips of the spent and pliant man beneath him; as they are basked in the soft lighting of falsified stars.

Notes:

consensual but not safe or sane/under-negotiated kink: both jayce and viktor are very much into what transpires, but they have never previously talked about doing a scene together, nor to the intensity in which it happens but they are both enthusiastically involved. they also are not showing too much care for the safety of the acts within the scene, and haven't discussed limits in the physical or psychological sense, but they are never exceeded or disrespected despite never being discussed.

cigarette burns: viktor extinguishes a lit cigarette on jayce's skin, which leaves him with a small burn.

choking: jayce briefly chokes viktor in a 'safe' way that doesn't involve putting pressure on the windpipe.

object insertion: viktor anally penetrates jayce with the blunt handle of a manual screwdriver.

degradation: viktor talks down to jayce, referring to him as a toy, thing, an object, a cock sleeve, a warm hole, a doll, and a bitch in heat. he also treats him roughly and without finer care for what is the most healthy/sane option (ie. disregarding his gagging when he face fucks him) jayce is wholeheartedly into it and very much enjoys being degraded and treated as an object at the whim of his partner. viktor doesn't actually think that jayce is below him in any way, but he knows that jayce enjoys the fantasy, so he happily takes that role for the duration of the scene.

mention of chastity cage: viktor references using a chastity cage on jayce as a form of punishment, but it is not used or referenced again in this fic after that.

very light feminization: precisely two (2) mentions of jayce's ass being referred to as a cunt.