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For Viktor, there’s an undeniable thrill to the endless hours of work he and Jayce do in the lab, days filled with scrawling schematics and equations, discussions on runic combinations and hours of bouncing half-measured theories off of one another. Connecting so intrinsically with someone else on an intellectual level, throwing a thought into the air and knowing it will be caught and completed by another, sates a thirst he never knew he had. He and Jayce are two cogs spinning seamlessly in a well-oiled machine, and their days in the lab are testament to that.
But, Viktor will admit quietly to himself, he also enjoys the nights when they let themselves relax and simply … spend time with one another. To let their focused studies melt into a more companionable leisure.
Because to Viktor, Jayce is fascinating. A sharp, quick mind hidden behind boyish good-looks and an almost awkward charm. Who carries himself and speaks so openly, always willing to share whatever is on his mind. Stubborn, proud, yet never thinks of himself too highly - is often his own greatest critic, in fact. A corner of Viktor’s mind exists solely to solve the complex equation that is Jayce Talis.
That, and the ever-complicated question of why Viktor has found himself hopelessly and inexplicably in love with the man.
It’s irrational, is what it is; to fall in love with your lab partner. And Viktor is always rational. He’s measured each of the possible outcomes of such an infatuation and almost all of them end in a similar vein of Jayce rejecting his affections (not unkindly of course, because Jayce will always be Jayce) and the subsequent discomfort of it all placing enough of a burden on both their working relationship and their results in developing Hextech that their dream is jeopardised.
Perhaps he might be catastrophising a little bit. But again - irrational.
Yet the act of quashing down his burgeoning feelings for his partner, however much it might pain him, is not enough to fully dampen Viktor’s enjoyment of the downtime the two of them spend together.
Such nights like the one they find themselves in now, with the lab lights turned down low and the room warmed by the pleasant summer air. The two of them are sprawled over the faded, cushy couch pressed into the corner of the room, a bottle of wine that Jayce brought back from a dinner with the Kirammans being shared between them. Tonight’s topic of casual discussion so far is scattered anecdotes of their respective childhoods, and Viktor watches on in amusement as Jayce processes a new tidbit of information.
“Wait, so you and Sky have known each other since you were kids? And neither of you ever mentioned it to me before now?” he asks incredulously.
Viktor shrugs. “I thought it was obvious. We speak to each other like we’ve been acquainted for a while, no?”
“Well, I mean, yeah, I just figured that maybe you’d been classmates or something. I didn’t realise you’d both already been friends for so long.” Jayce chuckles. “D’you think she’s got any embarrassing childhood stories about you that I could bargain out of her?”
Viktor snorts, rolling his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t say we were friends, exactly. More that we were each aware of the other and spoke occasionally. I was a more … lonesome child. I generally preferred my own company than to be surrounded by other children of my age. Unlike you I’m sure, Mr Golden Boy,” he says teasingly.
Jayce stares off to the side for a moment, fingers tapping a staccato beat on his thigh. “You know, I didn’t actually have many friends when I was younger.”
He says it so casually, so flippantly, that Viktor frowns. He takes a sip of the glass of wine that’s been nursed between his hands for most the night, savouring the taste as he hums pensively. “I find it hard to believe that. You are a perfectly respectable and intelligent young man from a well-regarded minor house, after all,” he says in response.
“Are you joking? I was a kid obsessed with magic, Viktor. People weren’t exactly lining up to hang out with the loser who wore a giant blue wizard’s hat that his mom made for him.” Jayce flushes at Viktor’s raised eyebrow, letting out a short embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, I know. I looked as ridiculous as you’d imagine.”
Viktor waves his words away. “No, not that. Well-” He makes a face. “Yes, I’m sure you did look a bit foolish, but why would that deter people? You were simply passionate about your interests, no? I fail to see how that’s a bad thing.”
Jayce groans, tipping back against the couch and running his hands over his face. “I don’t … I still don’t fully know, I guess? I think I’ve always just been too much for people.”
Viktor frowns. The tone of their conversation for the night so far has been light, jovial, but he senses a deeper layer beneath Jayce’s story here that intrigues him. “Too much?”
“Yeah. Too enthusiastic, too talkative, too distracted, too overbearing, too much of a dreamer, too much of an idealist …” Jayce ticks them each off with his fingers, trailing away with a half-hearted puff of air. “I’ve heard it all. I thought it would get better once I got older, but honestly? It’s kind of worse. I became taller, broader, than most my classmates, and suddenly people started to get this idea in their head about the kind of guy I am, and they’re put off when I don’t live up to the fantasy.”
Viktor is silent for a moment, parsing through Jayce’s words with a quiet concentration reserved for moments like this, when his partner shares personal anecdotes that hold a weight to them, things that Viktor can add to that detailed chalkboard in his mind dedicated to solving the mystery that is Jayce. There’s an undercurrent of insecurity in his partner’s voice, one that Viktor struggles to match up with the razor-sharp intelligence and strong, handsome features of the man sitting before him. He cannot seem to picture how anyone could be put off by being in Jayce’s orbit - not when he’s come to crave it like air.
Jayce gently nudges Viktor’s foot with his own. “Didn’t lose you in there, did I?” he jokes lightly, but there’s a tightness to his sheepish smile, a hesitance behind his hooded eyes.
Viktor nudges him back. “No, apologies. I was simply thinking.” He leans back against the couch to match Jayce’s eye level. “These things that people have said, you don’t believe them, do you?”
Jayce shifts, his gaze dropping down to the hands twisting anxiously in his lap. “Well I mean .. It’s not like I- you know, they’re not exactly wrong, and I guess-”
“Jayce,” Viktor interrupts him firmly. Jayce’s mouth shuts with a click. “Look at me.” His partner’s eyes snap upwards, a soft breath escaping him like a punch.
“I need you to listen to me. These things, these parts of you that others have convinced you are flaws? They are the very things that drew me to you in the first place. In both observing you during the trial and reading through your notes, it was your passion and enthusiasm that captured my attention, your drive and your thirst for knowledge that led me to seek you out that night. And it was your idealism, the love and awe you hold for your work, that made me agree to be your partner.” Viktor pauses, giving Jayce a moment to absorb his words. There is a maelstrom of emotion swimming through his partner’s gaze that is moving too fast for Viktor to analyse yet. “If others fail to appreciate this about you, then it is their loss, not yours. Please do not think otherwise.”
The room plunges into silence, punctured only by the soft sounds of their breathing. Jayce hasn’t pulled his unreadable gaze away from Viktor yet, and Viktor refuses to be the one to break the contact, leaving them suspended in this weighted moment. There’s a charge in the air, so thick that Viktor can almost taste it. He feels it thrum along his skin like electricity, like the magic they’ve both spent so many hours in this very lab dedicating their lives to.
Jayce finally makes a move to break the silence. “You-” his voice comes out as a croak, and he swallows. Tries again. “You really mean that?”
The incredulity to Jayce’s tone makes Viktor ache. He wants to rage, to unleash his ire upon those who have convinced Jayce that he is some sort of a burden, rather than the intelligent and competent young man that Viktor knows him to be. “When have I ever lied to you?” he responds simply.
The irrevocability to his words must be the thing to finally break Jayce. His expression crumples, and he tears his gaze away from Viktor, folding in on himself and burying his face into his knees even as his body stays angled toward Viktor’s. His shoulders begin to tremble ever so slightly.
Viktor’s veins are immediately awash in cold panic. He’s pushed too much, hasn’t he? He only wanted to assuage Jayce’s insecurities, not to … Gods, not to make him cry.
“Oh,” Viktor breathes. “Oh, Jayce, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry, I-”
“No,” Jayce rasps, words muffled from where he’s still buried in his own arms. “It’s okay. I’m not … upset.”
Viktor frowns; the tears, the hunched over posture, and the wobble in his voice all say otherwise. The Jayce he knows best is exuberant, loud, made larger-than-life by the passion and ingenuity that spills out of him. That Jayce takes up space, is impossible not to be captivated by even in a room packed to the brim with people. But this Jayce … this Jayce is small. Quiet. This Jayce curls in on himself like he wishes to disappear into the cracks in the walls, into the folds of the couch beneath him. It’s jarring, to see his partner like this. Not since the night that Viktor met him, the night that he-
Viktor cuts the thought off right there. “You are clearly troubled, Jayce,” he says gently. “Talk to me.”
Jayce remains silent. His shoulders rise and fall unevenly with hitching, laboured breaths, and his fingers twitch and tremble where they’re dug into himself so tightly, one hand clenched around his knee and the other into the meat of his upper right arm. He’s wrapped so firmly around himself, as though seeking comfort from his own body - knowing Jayce’s proclivity for human touch, Viktor thinks, he probably is.
Viktor has never been particularly inclined toward physical affection. It isn’t that he dislikes it, or actively avoids it, but it’s never been something that he craves. Not in the way Jayce does. Jayce, who plants a warm hand on Viktor’s shoulder, his arm, the small of his back, whenever he finds the chance, who’ll sweep Viktor into crushing hugs whenever they’ve solved a particularly difficult equation, who will grab Viktor’s hand and lead him excitedly over to whatever has caught his eye when the two of them go shopping for parts.
Jayce, whose trembling shoulders immediately still when Viktor places a gentle, hesitant hand on his forearm. “Please,” Viktor murmurs. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He waits, letting the silence settle. Leaves his palm resting steadily on Jayce’s warm skin as a means of reassurance, letting him know without words that he is safe to take his time. And slowly, eventually, like the sun creeping up over the horizon, Jayce lifts his head from the cocoon of his arms.
His eyes are red-rimmed and tear-streaked, faint lines on the side of his cheek where it had been pressed into the fabric of his shirt and bottom lip raw and shiny like he’d been biting down on it. His watery gaze wavers a little, flittering around before finally rising to meet Viktor’s eyes again.
He looks- well, not aggrieved, and not like he’s terribly sad, despite the tears. More… overwhelmed, than anything.
“Jayce?” Viktor presses once again. He smooths his finger in slow back-and-forth motions across the skin of Jayce’s forearm. Watches as the tension slowly melts from his partner’s frame as he does so.
“I’m sorry,” Jayce croaks. “I didn’t mean to get all …” he sniffs, using the arm not held by Viktor’s hand to wipe at his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Hey.” Viktor gives Jayce’s arm a gentle, reproachful shake. “Do not apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong. That was a … weighted topic of discussion I imparted upon you, and I shouldn’t have pressed. It is I who should be apologising to you.”
Jayce is shaking his head before Viktor even finishes his sentence. “No, Viktor, no. Like I said, you didn’t upset me. The- the opposite, I think?”
Viktor tilts his head, encouraging Jayce to continue. His partner sighs and drops his chin to the top of his knees. “Like I said to you on … on that night. No one has ever believed in me. No one thought of my dreams to bring magic to the world as anything other than childish flights of fancy, but back then, I didn’t need them to. Because I had seen it. I believed it, and I knew I could bring it to life. It was like the sheer force of my conviction distanced me to all of their doubts - I didn't hear them because I wasn't truly listening. Why would I? But then ... but then the trial happened.” Jayce shudders, his form shrinking in on itself ever so slightly again. “It was like being plunged into a lake of ice-cold water. To have the professor I looked up to tell me it was impossible, my patrons shun my name, and my own mother call me crazy in front of the entire council …” Jayce trails off, his eyes squeezing shut. “I know why she did it. I know. But that didn’t make it hurt any less."
“It was like any amount of conviction I’d ever had was ripped away from under me," he continues shakily. "I felt like a fool. Like I was crazy, wasting so many years of my life to an impossible dream. Without magic there was nothing else. Nothing in my life that could fill the hole it left. That’s why I - why I thought that I had to-” Jayce cuts himself off with a choked sound.
He presses his forehead into his knees, taking a few deep, steadying breaths. It reminds Viktor to take a few of his own, too. He gives Jayce’s arm, still held beneath his palm, a soft squeeze, and lets out a short huff of surprise when Jayce’s warm hand comes to rest over his.
“I thought there was nothing left,” Jayce continues, “but then you were there.” His hazel eyes lock onto Viktor’s, full of what could almost be awe, and Viktor’s breath is momentarily stolen away from him. “You came into my life, and immediately pieced together the things that I’d been missing. You saw my vision and you believed it, without question. You fought for it, when I was ready to give up. A part of me was convinced you couldn’t possibly be real. Still believes it, I think.” Jayce softly shakes their conjoined hands, now resting in the space between them. “How else could I be so lucky, to have this?”
Viktor swallows heavily. He doesn’t know what to say, what he could possibly say in this moment. Jayce has stolen his breath and words alike, leaving Viktor quietly blinking at the still hunched-over form of his partner before him. The pressure of their joined hands burns and tingles in equal measure. “Jayce-” he rasps out.
“I don’t think it ever really went away,” Jayce continues quietly, as if he didn’t even hear Viktor speak. “The way I felt on that night. The hopelessness, the foolishness. It’s like something in me cracked, and all the whispers, all the negative things people had ever said about me, they started trickling in. Even when we’re in the lab, when we’re making progress, I still hear them. And it keeps making me wonder - what if? What if everything does come crashing down, like it did before? What if I ruin everything again?"
“But then you say things like … that. Things that chase the voices away, even for a little bit.” Jayce barks out a watery chuckle. “And you make it all sound so simple. Like it’s just- just fact."
Jayce’s weak laugh peters out. The room delves into silence once more. Viktor doesn’t say anything, too busy parsing through everything Jayce just revealed to him. He's had his suspicions about some of it, of course. No one can step back from the kind of precipice Jayce had dangled himself over and leave all the baggage that drove them there behind. But to have it all laid out before him, the silent struggle Jayce had been steeling himself to traverse through alone … something like grief, like understanding, kindles inside him.
“I know the things people say about me,” Viktor begins, his voice cutting softly through the hum of silence. “They’ve never tried to hide their whispers, the way they look at my leg, or my cane. They don’t mask their scrutiny on where I came from. They’ve certainly never held their tongue on what they think of my own ambitions.” Viktor pauses, looks down at their conjoined hands. “People are always going to come to their own conclusions about who you are, the things you say, the work you do. They will not always be kind, and rarely will they be true. We cannot change what others think of us, but," Viktor gives Jayce's hand a squeeze, "we are not powerless over it. If you believe in yourself enough, then others will have to do the same."
Jayce hums. “I know. It’s just-” he lets out a frustrated sigh. “It’s one thing to tell myself that something’s true, but another to actually trust it, I guess.”
“Of course. I won’t pretend that it isn’t hard. But it isn’t something that we have to do alone.” Viktor turns fully toward Jayce on the couch, letting go of his hand to grasp the other man gently by the chin and lift his face upward, keeping their gaze locked together to fully drive the point home. “If I must remind you of it every day, then so be it. You are a brilliant man, Jayce Talis, and it is both a pleasure and a privilege to have you as my partner in this venture.” Viktor wrinkles his nose. “Even if you have a tendency to burn our sweetmilk in the mornings and leave half-finished sheets of schematics all over the floor of our lab, I wouldn’t have it - have you - any other way.”
Jayce is frozen beneath Viktor’s hand, and Viktor doesn’t miss the way his partner’s pulse jumps under his thumb, breath hitching. Jayce’s intense gaze burns into Viktor’s like a brand. Viktor waits for him to say something. Anything. Then-
“I never know what you’re thinking,” Jayce whispers, “when you look at me like that.”
Viktor breathes out, and they’re close enough now that it softly brushes aside the errant strand of hair dangling over Jayce’s forehead. That unreadable emotion is back in Jayce’s eyes, the one Viktor has been fruitlessly attempting to decipher all evening, but now that he’s this close to Jayce, something about it pulses in time with the thrum of Viktor’s pounding heart. Viktor feels like he’s holding himself a hairsbreadth from a precipice, unsure whether or not there’ll be anything to catch him if he falls.
But perhaps that itself is the thrill of it.
“Let me show you,” Viktor breathes. Then, before he can overthink it, before he can calculate every way this can go so, so wrong, he leans forward and presses his lips to Jayce’s.
For a brief, terrifying moment, nothing happens. Jayce remains still and unmoving, a statue beneath Viktor’s mouth. Panic rushes down Viktor’s spine. Oh god, he thinks. I’ve ruined this. He begins to pull away, but the movement must reawaken Jayce from whatever stupor he fell into, as the man utters a single broken, keening sound before desperately crushing his lips back against Viktor’s.
The sharp tang of salt bursts onto his taste buds, shot through with an undercurrent of sweetness from the wine they’d been drinking only moments ago. Jayce’s lips are soft, more so than he’d ever imagined (and gods, has he imagined), but Viktor can feel, as he tentatively licks his tongue into Jayce’s mouth, where he has bitten down the inside of them in anxiety.
Jayce kisses with sweet inexperience, fumbling and enthusiastic, but he parts beautifully under the ministrations of Viktor’s tongue. Viktor takes it slow, patient, perfectly happy to take the lead and set the pace. The hand that had been gripping Jayce’s chin has found itself settled by the back of his head, the short, cropped hairs tickling Viktor’s palm. On a whim, Viktor moves it slowly upward, feeling through to the longer, tousled strands of Jayce’s hair. He tangles a couple in his fingers and gives a gentle tug.
The responding moan rumbles pleasantly through Jayce into Viktor’s mouth. “You-” Jayce gasps, surfacing for air to speak, “-did that-” a shuddery breath as Viktor nibbles on his bottom lip, “-on purpose.”
“Mmmm,” Viktor purrs. “An outlandish claim. Where is your evidence to support such an accusation?”
Jayce pants into his mouth, dazed, but a twinkle of playful amusement sparks in his eyes. “I suppose,” he breathes, “we’ll have to repeat the action again. For data.”
Viktor laughs affectionately. “You are ridiculous,” he says, pulling Jayce’s head back and coaxing a gasp from the man, which he promptly swallows with his lips.
They trade slow, open-mouthed kisses for an indeterminate amount of time, only breaking apart to catch languid breaths before diving back in again. The heady warmth of it both stokes and settles the flame in Viktor’s chest in equal measure. He draws a hand down to the bottom of Jayce’s shirt, having come untucked already. Slowly slides a hand underneath, pulling back to look at Jayce inquiringly, intent clear.
Jayce pauses, chest falling and rising with heavy breaths. After a moment of contemplation, he reaches down and gently lifts Viktor’s hand away from his side.
“I … not tonight,” Jayce says haltingly.
Viktor smiles in reassurance. “Of course,” he says. “There is no rush, nor expectation. I do not wish to do anything that you do not also want.”
Jayce lets out a shuddering breath. “Oh I want, Viktor. Believe me. I just … there’s been a lot of big emotions for me tonight. My head’s a bit of a mess right now.”
“That’s perfectly alright, Jayce. You’ve shared a lot of difficult things with me this evening.” Viktor leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against Jayce’s forehead. “I’m proud of you.”
The other man exhales suddenly, like the air has been punched out of him. His eyes flutter shut. Viktor takes this as an invitation to pepper more kisses against each eyelid, one, then the other. He reaches up and smooths a hand along the sharp plane of Jayce’s jaw, a thumb reaching out to wipe away a couple tears that have pearled across his partner’s cheek. An urge seizes him, one Viktor doesn’t have the will to brush aside, and he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the place he’d just cleared with his thumb. He licks away the tangy salt of Jayce’s tear tracks with his tongue, the taste of it spilling down his throat and settling somewhere warm in his stomach.
Jayce is making hushed noises, quiet things that sound almost like whimpers. Viktor soothes him with calm strokes over his bottom lip. He trails more kisses down Jayce’s cheek, swapping to the other side once he begins to approach the corner of Jayce’s mouth. Once he’s covered that, he whispers more down the bridge of his partner's nose. He wants to leave no inch of Jayce’s face untouched, no piece of him that doesn’t feel cherished and cared for.
At the tip of Jayce’s nose, he pauses. Their faces are so close that they’re practically breathing the same air. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Jayce whispers, his eyes still closed.
“Funny,” Viktor says softly, pressing their foreheads together. “I often find myself thinking the same thing.”
Jayce lets out a wet, bashful laugh. A pair of strong arms wrap around Viktor’s middle, holding him steady as Jayce tips them backward until they’re lying longways across the couch. Jayce blinks lazily up at him, eyes heavy-lidded. He reaches up to hold Viktor’s face between two large hands, brushing the hair back from Viktor’s forehead and smoothing a thumb gently over his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, mapping them out with sweet wonder. “Beautiful,” Jayce breathes out softly. “You’re beautiful.”
Viktor ducks his head away from Jayce’s petting, his turn now to be embarrassed. “I think that’s the wine finally talking,” he chuckles.
“Mmm, probably,” Jayce hums. “But you were beautiful before the wine, too.”
Perhaps it’s the warm adoration in Jayce’s eyes, or the matter-of-fact tone of his voice, or even the culmination of every unexpected revelation of the night finally hitting him all at once, but Viktor is suddenly and inexplicably overcome with emotion. An incredulous laugh bubbles out of him, soon muffled by where he leans down and tucks his face into the crook of Jayce’s neck.
This man, he thinks, almost deliriously. This wonderful, strange man, who is able to disarm Viktor so completely and effortlessly, who has nestled his way inside Viktor’s chest like he’s always lived there. Jayce baffles him. Viktor wants to pry him open and examine him under a microscope. He wants to kiss him until his lips go numb.
He wants to stay here - sprawled over Jayce’s chest and feeling as their breaths sync into tune - until the universe stutters to a stop and the stars go out.
“Y’re poking me in the ribs,” Jayce mumbles sleepily.
Viktor huffs a laugh into his shoulder. Perhaps not, then.
“Come on,” he says, giving Jayce a light nudge. The man seems to have slipped into an almost doze while Viktor was lost in thought. “We need to head home before you fall asleep here.”
Jayce honest-to-gods whines, his arms tightening around Viktor’s form. “Nooo,” he groans. “My apartment is too far away, and I'm comfy.”
Viktor raises an eyebrow. “You want to sleep here? On a couch, still dressed in full academy uniform, when you could be at home in your own comfortable bed?”
Jayce just hums, eyes still closed. “Mmhmm. ‘Cos you’re here.”
Dammit, Viktor thinks. Damn it all.
With a sigh, he finds himself sitting up slowly, Jayce having relinquished his hold in apparent pleased realisation that he got his wish. Viktor undresses himself to just his dress shirt and pants, his shoes having been kicked off long ago, and sets to removing the brace from his leg.
Jayce, a little more awake now, moves to get up. Viktor stops him with a hand on his chest. “Let me,” he says quietly, and revels in the open trust in Jayce’s gaze as the man lies back again.
Viktor makes slow, unhurried work of unbuttoning Jayce’s vest, maneuvering his partner’s arms to pull it off over his shoulders. Next, he carefully unties the knot of Jayce’s cravat, his fingers brushing against Jayce’s throat and feeling the steady thrum of his pulse as he does so. When he reaches down to unclasp the buckle of Jayce’s belt, he broadcasts his actions calmly, so as not to insinuate any further meaning behind the action other than unburdening his partner from the layers of the day. Finally, he reaches up to smooth a hand through Jayce’s coiffed hair, brushing out the pomade with his fingers.
By the time he is finished, Jayce has practically melted beneath Viktor’s hands. A small, content smile graces his partner’s face, his features and stature both finally relaxed after the emotional fragility of their night. Viktor’s chest swells, overcome with unbridled fondness for the man beneath him.
Jayce stirs once Viktor begins to lay himself down again. “Will you be comfortable like this?” he asks, brow furrowing. “I should’ve asked.”
“I’ll be fine,” Viktor lies. In truth, sleeping on his stomach like this will likely cause stiffness in his back come morning, but he’s too tired to care.
Yet Jayce is not convinced. After a moment of deliberation, he wraps his arms around Viktor again, this time turning them onto their sides. A warm, unreasonably large thigh comes to rest between Viktor’s knees like a pillow, and Jayce moves his hands to splay comfortably over the planes of Viktor’s back. Jayce’s body has always burned with the same heat as the forge he often disappears to, but this is the first time Viktor has ever had it wrapped around him so closely. It’s remarkably soothing. Viktor lets out a warm sigh of contentment as he leans into Jayce, pressing their foreheads together.
The insistent tug of sleep pulls at Viktor’s mind, lulled along by the soft puffs of breath against his face and the steady heartbeat beneath his arms. Something inside him finally settles. Never, in all the months of pining, of measuring variables and analysing outcomes, did Viktor ever dream that he could have this. To hold the object of his affections in his arms and be held in turn.
“Goodnight, Jayce,” Viktor murmurs, closing his eyes and letting the sound of his partner’s breathing carry him under the tide of sleep.