Work Text:
Jayce groans, blinking against the morning light streaming through the blinds of his bedroom. His whole body feels heavy and electric, buzzing with the remnants of the dream that’s still clinging to his skin.
He dreamt about Viktor. Again.
The flashes of memories make Jayce’s cheeks flush in a mix of both shame and desire. He shifts under the covers that cling to his sweaty skin, biting his lip and cursing himself for waking up so… unsatisfied. He feels hot, and even though the door to his bedroom is cracked open, there’s still not enough air to calm his fevered skin.
He can still feel the phantom touch that dream-Viktor left on him. The softness of his palms as Viktor’s hands slid down his chest. “—No,” Jayce shakes his head. “Stop thinking about it,” he tells himself, but it’s too late, because his right hand is now gripping the base of his aching cock, just like Viktor had gripped it in the dream.
Jayce shifts his hips, refusing to move his hand, to give in to the desire. But his body doesn’t listen. His body craves that touch that was promised and taken away so suddenly by the blasted morning light. So his hips jut up from the bed, seeking some release.
Both of his hands are busy squeezing—one is sat at the base of his throbbing cock, trying to make the growing pressure in his belly subside—while the other is gripping his damp sheets as if they were a lifeline. But then flashes of Viktor dropping to his knees play behind Jayce’s eyelids. And just as Viktor’s tongue laps at the underside of his balls, Jayce’s left hand abandons its grip on the sheets to move down between his legs.
He’s so pent up and frustrated.
He’s horny and confused.
These dreams are plaguing his nights so often lately that he nearly wakes up hard every morning, often with the image of Viktor’s tongue waiting to be painted in his release—only for Jayce to suddenly wake up alone in his bed, sweating and shivering at the same time, cock hard and balls still full.
They’re fucking roommates.
They’re colleagues and friends—even best friends, Jayce would dare say. He can’t remember his life before Viktor and can’t imagine his future without him.
So whatever this is, Jayce needs to get over it fast, lest he risk ruining everything between them.
It’s clearly an episode of insanity, a moment of delusion—because Viktor would never like Jayce the same way, would never want him the same way.
The way Jayce craves him.
Jayce needs to get this over with—he needs a quick release and to wash his face and then step outside this cursed room, locking away all these feelings. He doesn’t want to lose the best person in his life over a month of wet dreams and blue balls.
He lets his body take over and tries to stop overthinking things. The sooner he comes, the sooner he’ll clear his head and be able to face Viktor for their morning routine. Jayce lets the memories of last night’s dream—and who knows how many others before it—flood his mind, and he gives in to the pleasure.
As he strokes himself and plays with his balls, it’s Viktor’s hands that he imagines. It’s Viktor’s mouth hovering over the needy head of his cock—hot breath and soft lips begging to taste him.
But those lips never touched him in his dreams.
He never gets to feel himself wrapped in velvet or how wet and hot Viktor’s mouth can be. It’s always the ghost of hands and fingers and the promise of a mouth. It’s always his calloused hands and short breaths that fill the silence of the room, never the sweet hums Viktor could make as he takes Jayce down his throat.
But still, Jayce can imagine the moment—he can see Viktor’s crooked smile and snaggle tooth or the mole sitting above his lip. He can see his tongue sliding over Jayce’s slit, lapping up his precome, and then licking away at those sinful lips.
“Fuck, I need to taste those lips,” Jayce murmurs through gasps as he continues to stroke himself.
He can see it clearly, because every morning he wakes up and watches as Viktor licks his lips whenever he drinks his glass of sweet milk for breakfast.
The faint milk residue clinging to Viktor’s top lip is what always makes his fingers itch. Jayce wanted to reach out and wipe it with his thumb so many times. He wondered if he’d then suck his thumb between his lips—would he still feel Viktor’s taste in that rebel drop?
Viktor would taste so much better, so much sweeter.
But Jayce never dared to do that. And even if he had, he never got the chance because Viktor is always too quick, as he lets the tip of his tongue slide over his top lip, gathering the remnants Jayce so hungrily craves.
“—nnngh, fuuck,” Jayce moans as he pumps his hand along his shaft, massaging his balls until hot release finally paints his tensed-up abs—the thought of Viktor’s mouth still flashing like a warning in his head. Shit, he wants a taste so much.
Heaving chest and broken heart, Jayce slides his fist over his spent cock, making sure to squeeze everything out. Sweat and cum are painting his abs, while the morning light makes his thumb glisten with his release as Jayce imagines Viktor licking it clean.
Dragging himself out of bed, he does a poor job of cleaning himself with a paper towel, deciding to have a quick shower after breakfast. He throws on a raggy t-shirt and a pair of sweats before he pads down the hall toward the kitchen, hoping the taste of coffee—or at least the fact that he emptied his balls—would let his mind focus on something else for the day.
As he enters the kitchen, there’s Viktor, sitting at the counter in his usual morning attire—a too-large t-shirt and a pair of grey boxers—sipping from a tall glass of sweet milk. His phone is resting on the counter as he’s watching something on it—one hand holding the glass while the other is twirling a lock of hair at the back of his neck. The morning sunlight catches the pale sheen of milk on his upper lip, and Jayce’s heart stutters.
Viktor always looks effortlessly soft, calm, and collected. But right now, Jayce’s imagination refuses to stay polite.
“Morning,” Viktor says, not looking up from his phone. “Sleep well?” His voice is low and honest, and Jayce nearly chokes on air trying to reply.
“Uh… yeah,” he mutters, scratching at the back of his neck. “You?”
Viktor finally glances up at him, lip still shining with milk.
“Very well, thank you,” he replies with an innocent smile.
Then, as if with deliberate care, he raises the glass to his mouth, letting the milk coat his upper lip again, before he takes another sip.
Jayce’s stomach knots in place as dream fragments flash before his eyes.
“Viktor,” Jayce says, voice rough, suddenly stepping closer. “I need to… You have something—”
Viktor arches an eyebrow at him, the corner of his lips quirking.
“Oh?” he says, and a stray drop of milk that was clinging to the side of his mouth suddenly rolls down over his chin. Jyave loses track of it as it gets lost in the valley of Viktor’s neck.
Jayce’s eyes try to follow it, but he doesn’t say anything else. His mouth is dry, his lungs are closed, and his cock is twitching under his thin sweats.
“Jayce?” Viktor asks, fully turning towards Jayce on his barstool. There’s a squeak from the movement, and that snaps Jayce from his daydream. In two strides, Jayce is next to Viktor, pushed close between his open legs. Jayce’s left arm settles behind him on the counter, and his right hand lands softly on Viktor’s cheek.
There’s a deep inhale sound, and Jayce doesn’t know if it comes from him or Viktor or both. All he knows is that his thumb is now sliding over Viktor’s upper lip, gathering those cursed milk residues that will probably haunt his dreams forever.
And when the pad of his thumb finishes sliding over the bow of Viktor’s lips, Jayce lets go of his cheek and pulls his hand away. He knows his next move is to bring his thumb to his own mouth and suck it clean, as crazy as that thought might seem.
His mind is telling him to stop, not to make this awkward between them, or hell, even more awkward than he already did. But once again, his body does not listen.
Jayce can feel his lips part and the tip of his tongue darting out, but before he can taste the fruits of his insanity, lithe fingers wrap around his wrist and stop him.
Viktor.
Viktor is stopping him.
A panic surges through his veins. He’s made a mess of it all. He’s made Viktor uncomfortable. Jayce is going to lose his roommate—his fucking best friend—all for a dumb fantasy he can’t seem to shake out of his head. All because of his stupid cock and filthy dreams and the way Viktor’s lips feel wrapped around his thu—
The way Viktor’s lips feel wrapped around his thumb.
“—mmm,” is all Jayce can hear as his eyes shoot wide open, and he sees the image in front of him. A small moan slips through as Viktor sucks his thumb clean and then takes it out of his mouth but does not let go of Jayce’s wrist.
“—tastes salty,” Viktor says, piercing Jayce with his amber eyes. “Peculiar, but—eh—enjoyable.”
Flashes of 10 minutes ago pass before Jayce’s eyes. The way his hand was coated in his cum, his perfunctory cleaning job with just a flimsy paper towel, and the fact that, apparently, Viktor has now tasted those remnants and said…he liked it?
“I—I need to—” Jayce babbles and tries to pull his hand away, but Viktor doesn’t let go of his wrist.
“Jayce,” he says with an authoritative tone. “Please—”
“Yes?” Jayce says, not knowing what he’s even asking or agreeing to.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize,” Viktor says, finally letting go.
The cold air that hits his wrist is sharper than all the pins and needles Jayce could ever feel. The lack of Viktor’s touch hurts, but he can’t do anything to get it back now. So Jayce lets his arm fall next to his body and stands there transfixed, waiting for Viktor to continue.
“I hope I didn’t read things the wrong way,” Viktor says next. “And if I did, I do apologize for my transgression. It was never my intention to make you feel…uncomfortable,” he says after a brief pause, like he doesn’t know exactly how Jayce feels, so he doesn’t know exactly what to say.
“I’m not—it’s—I’m fine,” Jayce replies in a rush.
“It is not. It was improper and I hope you can forgive me,” Viktor says as his gaze never leaves Jayce’s.
He can feel his throat drying more and more as seconds pass, as a trickle of sweat drips down the back of his neck. Why is Viktor apologizing? He was the one who lost his way, who stepped forward like a maniac and almost shoved his finger in Viktor’s mouth.
But he didn’t, did he? He wasn’t the one to use his thumb and breach between Viktor’s lips. He wanted to taste whatever he could get, but he didn’t do it.
However, Viktor did.
Fighting through the panicked beatings of his heart, Jayce manages to say, “Nah, you’re fine, Vik, it’s…whatever.”
“We should talk,” Viktor says, sliding off his barstool and taking a step closer to Jayce.
“About—about what?” he asks, running his hand through the hairs at the back of his neck. Jayce can still feel the prickles of heat that Viktor’s lips left on his skin.
“About last night. Or well…this morning,” Viktor says. “—and other nights as well, if I am to be correct.”
“What about last night?” Jayce asks, frozen in place. “—and this morning?”
“The door to your room is sometimes cracked open,” Viktor begins, in a calm tone.
“It’s a small room,” Jayce says, not knowing what Viktor is on about. “It gets hot.”
“Yes, I know. Mine too…and I get thirsty,” Viktor adds, as if that should make everything clear. When Jayce says nothing, Viktor continues. “So,” he starts, taking another step towards Jayce, “I sometimes come to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.”
“Ok,” Jayce responds, blinking furiously.
“There were some nights when I was passing by your door and—” Viktor stops, but Jayce nods for him to continue. “And I heard you—erh—speaking,” he says with a shrug. “I thought you might be having someone over, then I thought you might be having a nightmare, but as I listened closer—” Viktor takes his final step until he reaches Jayce. “—it was always you calling out a name.”
“Viktor—” Jayce says with panic in his voice, the words his best friend is saying finally clicking in his mind.
“Yes, Viktor. That’s the name you’re always calling.”
“I’m—I don’t—” Jayce tries to speak, but he can feel a hand on his bicep, squeezing.
“Please, Jayce. Let me finish.”
Jayce swallows around the knot in his throat and nods, because there’s not much for him to say or do. He has been caught in the act and now must face the consequences.
“You say my name,” Viktor continues. “You moan my name. You beg for me to touch you, and you cry it out like it’s a hymn you’re set to worship. Your breath is always ragged, and the way you pant and whine—” Viktor says, placing his other hand on Jayce’s cheek.
That touch alone makes Jayce shiver, but he lets his head press into Viktor’s palm. He’s been craving that touch for so long—for longer than he even really knew.
His body knows, though. His body is so attuned to Viktor’s presence, pulling Jayce towards him as if magnets were buried deep inside their core—in their chests, beneath their hearts.
“I’m sorry,” Jayce thinks, and he hopes his voice works as he tries to speak it too.
It’s the end; he knows it. This is where it all breaks apart—their partnership, their friendship—everything he’s ever held so close to his heart is going to be shredded to pieces, and Viktor will tell him to get out of this apartment.
Out of his life.
Jayce can feel a tear slipping down his face, and not a second later, Viktor’s thumb is there to catch it.
“Do not cry, lásko. Do not be sorry,” he can barely hear Viktor say between the ringing in his ears and all the blaring alarms that scream for him to run and hide.
“I’m sorry,” Jayce says again, placing a hand on top of Viktor’s, pressing his cheek even harder into his pale palm. “I fucked up, Vik. I—I don’t know what to do,” he chokes, eyes full of tears, not bearing to look Viktor in the eye. “I don’t want to lose you; I promise I’ll stop. I’ve wanted to stop, and I—I didn’t know how, but I’ll do it; I’ll find a way.”
Jayce keeps his eyes closed, tears streaming down his face. He can’t look at Viktor, not when he’s failed him and their friendship. “I won’t fail you again, I swear it. Please! Just—don’t leave me… Promise me you won’t leave me, V,” he begs between sobs. “Promise me I won’t lose you.”
“Miláčku,” Viktor whispers as he brings his lips to Jayce's cheek and gathers the stream of tears that have fallen.
“Why would I leave you?” he says, placing a kiss on his other cheek. “Why would you lose me?” Another kiss over one eyelid, “—when all I’ve ever dreamed of—” and another over the other eyelid, “—since the first day I saw you—” he pauses, rubbing his thumb over Jayce’s cheek, coaxing him to open his eyes, “—was to hear you call my name like so.”
“Wha—”
“I’m sorry I never told you, Jayce. I was afraid as well…afraid to lose you.”
“When—”
“And if you only want me like that,” Viktor says, his mouth now dangerously close to Jayce’s, “I’ll give you all you need. I won’t ask for more, I swear. Whatever keeps you in my life, it’s yours.”
Jayce doesn’t know when or how it happens. Who surges forward first? Who opens his lips or pushes his tongue in? But there are fireworks in the air and ants crawling up his skin. He can see music and smell color.
He can taste the fire on his tongue.
He can taste Viktor on his tongue.
As their kiss deepens, their hands are scrambling to grab and touch. Viktor’s palm is no longer on his cheek but buried deep in his hair, pulling at the roots. The hand that was settled on his bicep is still there, but now, blunt nails are digging into Jayce’s skin.
And his hands—his hands are erratic and hungry, roaming up and down Viktor’s body, trying to touch every inch of him, afraid that once this kiss breaks, he’ll never get the chance to taste him again.
But then Viktor’s body presses into him, and they’re glued from head to toe. The warmth of his skin burns Jayce to the core, so he lets himself be enveloped by Viktor’s presence—his scent, his taste, his touch—it’s everything Jayce ever wanted and nothing he’s ever expected.
It’s so much more; it’s everything.
Jayce finds himself grabbing Viktor’s waist with both hands and lifting him in the air, pulling him closer to his body as he swings them around. Now Jayce’s body rests against the kitchen counter, holding Viktor tightly in his arms.
“Jayce—” Viktor pants, finally pulling away for air. And Jayce draws in a deep breath. He didn’t even notice the creeping shortage of oxygen in his lungs.
“Please—” Viktor moans again, and it sends shivers down Jayce’s spine.
“Yes. Anything,” he says, voice seeping with reverence. “Everything, tell me, V—” Jayce hums as he peppers kisses over Viktor’s jaw—soft and tender—letting Viktor’s body slide down from his grip. “I’ll give you anything, baby; I’m yours.”
“—nngh, mine,” Viktor heaves as he lets his head fall back, giving Jayce more access to the vastness of his naked throat. “Need you—” he adds, hands gripping at Jayce’s t-shirt, struggling to pull it off. “—in me,” Viktor finishes. He’s somehow managed to fit Jayce’s thigh between his legs, and his slim body writhes up and down it, seeking friction. Jayce pushes his thigh up, pressing it between Viktor’s legs, helping him get the release he seeks.
“Baby, fuck—”
“Yes. Fuck me, Jayce,” Viktor pants, hips now fully grinding up and down. “Take me, make me yours. Show me everything you’ve dreamt of. Make it real.”
“Gaaah—nnngh,” is all Jayce can say—growl, actually. He’s turned feral, nipping at Viktor’s jaw and neck, leaving teeth marks all over his fair skin. “You can’t just say shit like that, V—” Jayce says as he grabs Viktor’s ass and helps the movement of his hips, pulling him closer and guiding his grind up and down the thickness of his thigh.
“You like that, baby?” he asks, licking a wet stripe with his tongue just under Viktor’s ear. “Like humping me?”
“Please…”
“Did you hump your pillow thinking of me?” Jayce asks him, filthy thoughts taking full control of his mouth. “Did you hear me moan your name and get wet between your legs? Huh—did your pussy throb with lust for me?”
“Jayce…more—I, please, need more—”
“You close, baby? Are you gonna come humping on my leg? Like a dog in heat?”
“So close, Jay—nnngh—plea—nnngh.” Viktor moans as his breath becomes more ragged, his hips frantically moving up and down.
Jayce’s hands are cupping his ass, helping his movements, almost keeping Viktor up in the air. His palms are so big against Viktor’s cheeks that the tips of his fingers now reach between his legs. The material of Viktor’s boxers is damp.
“I can feel how wet you are,” Jayce whispers between his own pants, his hot breath so close to Viktor’s ear. He keeps one hand on Viktor’s ass, guiding his movements, and moves the other one to the small of his back, letting it slip under the soft t-shirt he somehow manages to pull up, feeling the goosebumps blooming on Viktor’s skin.
“You’re dripping for me,” Jayce continues. “Ruining my sweats with your wet cunt. I can already feel it on my skin. I can feel you,” he goads on, making Viktor moan and pant, unable to talk back. “Use that pretty pussy on me, baby,” he finally says.
“—nnnghfuuuuck!!” Viktor wails just as Jayce sinks his teeth into the crux of his neck. The words and the friction—the combination of them both—have made Viktor’s orgasm so intense that he’s now lost all control of his body.
Jayce’s hands supporting him helped, but Viktor's toes were at times barely touching the ground, and his bad leg almost started cramping. It’s no wonder his legs are now like jelly, barely working. If it weren’t for Jayce’s broad palms that are now placed, one at the small of his back and the other at the back of his neck—keeping Viktor glued to his chest—he would’ve probably just melted away into a puddle on the floor.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Jayce asks with the softest voice he can muster. Not two minutes ago, he was growling like a wild animal into Viktor’s skin, and now, his lips are barely brushing into his temple. “Come here. Put your legs around my waist,” he says, as he yanks Viktor up and does it for him. “Let’s sit on the couch for a bit, yeah?”
“—mmmhm,” Viktor wordlessly agrees, letting his body be manhandled towards their living room.
Holding Viktor tightly with one hand around his back, Jayce grabs the glass of sweet milk from the counter and takes it with them, placing it on the coffee table.
As he sits down on their raggy couch, he keeps Viktor close to his chest, maneuvering his bad leg slowly so Viktor can sit comfortably in his lap. His head is resting on Jayce’s chest, and a few strands of hair are falling over his face. Jayce brings one finger up and gently guides the locks of hair behind Viktor’s ear, caressing his crimsoned cheek along the way.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, and he didn’t think that Viktor’s cheeks could become more flushed, but they do. “Do you want to drink some milk?” Jayce asks, gripping Viktor’s chin and guiding it upwards until their eyes meet. His other hand is still sitting on Viktor’s back, thumb rubbing small circles under his t-shirt, reveling in the softness of his skin.
“—m fine,” Viktor answers with a shy smile. “Jayce, I’m so—”
“Shh, don’t…” Jayce stops him. “Don’t you dare apologize, V. That was the best thing you could have given me,” he says, smiling back.
“I believe the best thing I could give you is your own orgasm,” Viktor says, wriggling his ass in Jayce’s lap, where his cock is still very much interested in whatever Viktor has to offer.
“We don’t need to do anything more,” Jayce says. “I enjoy having you here in my arms, sweetheart. And it’s enough,” he adds, with a chaste kiss to Viktor’s temple.
They look at each other in silence, and it’s perfect.
If this is just another dream he’s having, Jayce hopes he’ll never wake up from it.
But then, just like a blanket of fog breaking across the hills, Jayce sees Viktor’s amber eyes clear of their drunkenness and become darker with desire. Suddenly, Viktor grabs his wrist again, dragging Jayce’s hand from his face and guiding it down between his legs.
Jayce’s breath catches the moment he feels Viktor’s boxers, so damp with the evidence of what they did mere minutes ago.
“Viktor—” Jayce moans, an echo of the ones in his dreams.
“I want to feel you inside me,” Viktor says, lips hovering in front of Jayce’s own. “I want your fingers,” he says, squeezing Jayce’s wrist more and pushing it further down between his thighs, legs opening up in Jayce’s lap.
“I want your tongue,” he adds as he lets the tip of his own trace the hills and valleys of Jayce’s lips. “And then, once you have me nice and wet—” he grinds his ass again, feeling Jayce’s cock throb under his cheeks, “—I want to slide down on your big—” he grinds, “—fat,” he grinds, “—cock.”
Jayce’s eyes squeeze closed as he holds his breath, trying not to come then and there, still in his sweats, with Viktor grinding in his lap.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he says, and Viktor gives him a wicked smile.
In a split second, Jayce maneuvers them in a way that has Viktor straddling his lap, knees firmly placed on the couch, bracketing his body. He reaches down for the hem of Viktor’s t-shirt, and with a torturous, slow movement, Jayce pulls the fabric off and throws it on the floor. He places one hand at the nape of Viktor’s neck, grabbing his hair and pulling his head backwards, exposing the pale skin of his throat. And with his other hand—a feathered touch of a finger—Jayce lets it slide down from jaw to navel, like he’s mapping Viktor out under his burning touch.
There are moles and freckles and two pink scars on his chest, faint enough to be almost invisible in the low morning light. Jayce lets his thumb graze them slowly as his mouth peppers kisses all over Viktor’s chest. He knows he can’t keep him long in this position, even though he feels the way Viktor started grinding his hips again. But this time, Jayce wants to give him more than just some friction.
This time, he has an idea.
As much as it pains him to stop kissing Viktor, Jayce breaks away and says. “Why don’t you finish that glass of milk, baby? You’ll need to stay hydrated.”
“—’m not thirsty,” Viktor whines.
“Be that as it may,” Jayce says with a grin. “I’m asking you nicely, V. Won’t you be good for me and have a drink?”
Jayce’s hand is firm at the small of Viktor’s back as he leans forward enough to be able to take the glass of sweet milk from the coffee table.
Viktor lets out a small yelp as he’s bent backwards before he finds himself with the almost full glass of sweet milk in front of his mouth and Jayce’s insistent eyes piercing through him.
So Viktor licks his lips and nods his head before gripping the glass with both hands. He tips the glass and starts to drink it down in small sips, but then Jayce’s hand sets on the bottom of the glass, tilting it further. Milk starts spilling past Viktor’s lips, just as much as it fills up his mouth. Messy rivulets are running down his chin, over the sharp line of his jaw, and down his throat before they start dripping down onto his pale chest.
When the glass is finally empty, Viktor gasps for air.
His first instinct is to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand, but Jayce is already grabbing both his wrists and pulling them down. He’s silently shaking his head, then taking the glass from Viktor’s hand and placing it back on the table.
Viktor shivers at the chill air touching his damp skin, but it quickly turns into a soft hum when Jayce carefully leans in and starts kissing his skin. His tongue starts to follow the path of the spilt milk—slow and deliberate—lapping up each drop as if it belongs to him. He starts to chase the slick trails left over Viktor’s chin, down his throat and over his chest—Jayce’s hot mouth set against prickled skin.
Viktor’s breath hitches when Jayce’s lips close around a rogue bead of milk clinging just above his sternum, sucking it away before trailing lower with precision, hungry to catch every leftover trace.
But the milk spilt over has run down his torso, reaching Viktor’s navel and even lower, over the small bump of his soft tummy, clinging to the soft hairs of his happy trail.
Suddenly, Jayce pulls Viktor up by his hips, setting him to stand on the couch cushions—feet planted next to Jayce’s thighs—towering over him. Viktor’s hands meet the back wall, leaning forwards and finding support as Jayce starts to pull down his boxers.
Gently stepping out of them, Viktor is then grabbed by the hips and pulled forward. Jayce’s head is tilted back against the couch rest, face almost bracketed by Viktor’s thighs. His tongue starts gently lapping at the happy trail—his touch tender, almost superficial at first. Jayce sucks in every remaining drop of spilt milk, reveling in the way Viktor starts to squirm under his touch. It doesn’t take long for him to start pushing forward with his hips and grabbing Jayce’s head, fingers firmly planted in his hair.
“Jayce—” Viktor releases a soft, breathy moan, the rest of it a wordless plea.
His mouth finally moves close to Viktor’s cunt, hot breath burning over pale skin, but Jayce still does not touch him. He stays there for a moment, lips tingling with want, but before he decides to dive in, Jayce looks up only to find a gaze of golden amber looking down on him. Viktor’s face is flushed and he’s biting his bottom lip. Jayce can see desire vibrating through his skin—the way Viktor tries to hold steady, to not push his hips forward and let Jayce come to him.
He wants this. Viktor wants this as much as Jayce does and he almost can’t believe it. He woke up this morning with a phantom touch on his skin, missing a sweetness he didn’t even know.
And now, Jayce finally gets to taste him.
He lets his body slouch lower on the couch, head tipped back against the top of the backrest, throat exposed, eyes half-lidded as he gives Viktor a final look.
Viktor now has one hand braced on the couch back for balance, the other trembling slightly at his side. His thighs are tense, but his pussy is already slick, wetness glistening where his folds split. Jayce imagines seeing the evidence of Viktor’s orgasm trail down on the inside of his legs and his own cock instantly pulses between his thighs.
From down below, it’s Jayce’s breath that first hits Viktor—warm, deliberate—right over the swollen lips of his pussy.
“Been dreaming about this, V,” Jayce murmurs, his voice low, as his big hands slide up over Viktor’s thighs, guiding him forward. “Want to taste you.”
Viktor shuffles closer until he’s almost straddling Jayce’s shoulders, pussy hovering just over Jayce’s mouth. Jayce tilts his chin and closes the distance, pressing the softest first kiss right over Viktor’s folds.
Viktor shudders, a small, broken sound escaping him. “Jayce—”
He hums against it, vibrations making Viktor’s knees tremble. He continues his delicate movements—just the tip of his tongue, tracing gentle, teasing lines along the outside of Viktor’s pussy. The angle has him licking upward, dragging his tongue from bottom to top in long, unhurried strokes.
He goes slow—a long and lazy lick, the tip of his tongue gently parting the outside folds until Jayce’s tongue catches on Viktor’s swollen nub. He lets it rest on the tip of his tongue, taking in the new taste blooming on his lips. Each tongue lap makes Viktor’s breath stutter as his free hand clings to Jayce’s hair, lithe fingers curling in dark locks, but not yet pulling—just anchoring himself.
And Jayce is determined to take his time.
He licks languidly, savoring the taste, the wetness, the sweetness—the way Viktor’s thighs tense every time the broad part of Jayce’s tongue glides over Viktor’s clit without applying enough pressure. He’s a tease and he knows it, but he’s dreamt about it for too long, so Jayce wants to indulge in the sensation.
“—nnngh, please,” Viktor says again, his body fighting to remain still. He stays in place, hips settled in between Jayce’s large palms, just waiting to be offered more.
“—mmm,” Jayce moans, tongue breaking deeper through the folds. “—sweeter than honey, so wet for me—,” he adds with another lick, this time pressing his tongue even further. “I can’t believe,” Jayce says, hands moving back to Viktor’s thighs, “I get to taste you.”
He lets both hands move upwards on Viktor’s body, caressing his sides and his back, then pass over his chest until Jayce’s fingers find their way down to Viktor’s navel. From there, Jayce lets his thumbs slip further down in between Viktor’s legs until he gently parts his pussy open. His tongue plays along the softness of Viktor’s lips, and then, with thumbs holding the folds open, Jayce starts sucking on Viktor’s swollen nub.
His mouth seals over Viktor’s clit, sucking softly at first, then with purpose, as Viktor’s whole body arches, a helpless cry slipping out before he can swallow it down.
“Aaaahh, fuck, Jayce, that’s so—nnngh—” Viktor finally says, and Jayce’s heart bursts with happiness.
Jayce alternates between violent sucks and gentle licks before he finally pulls back, taking in the swollen nub, pink and glistening with desire. He licks his lips at the sight, Viktor’s clit shining in the morning light, wet from Jayce’s spit as his cunt is drooling. “I could eat you out all day long,” Jayce says, then pushes his face further, taking the clit back between his lips. He gently sucks on it, pinching it with his lips, pulling on it gently—before he lets his tongue slide again inside Viktor’s wet cunt until he finds the source of that sweet, sweet nectar.
And it is better tasting than the milk Viktor drinks.
Jayce repeats it again, slower, then sloppier, letting his tongue push just a little deeper each time until Viktor’s hips start rocking back and forth, without him even realizing what he’s doing.
“More,” Viktor moans, voice tight and shaky with want. “Jayce—please, more,” he begs.
Jayce’s lips curve into a hungry smile. He opens his mouth wider, flattening his tongue against Viktor’s pussy and dragging upward with more pressure this time—movements now deliberate, until Viktor’s breath catches on a sharp inhale.
Jayce’s throat groans against him at the sound, the vibration making Viktor gasp once again.
Licking into Viktor, tongue fucking him with steady strokes, Jayce keeps him open with his hands, thumbs spreading the folds just enough to allow his tongue to go deeper, tasting everything Viktor has to give.
“Fuck, Jayce—please—” Viktor starts to pant, cheeks flushed a bloody crimson, damp hair now sticking to his forehead. Every time Jayce presses in with his tongue, Viktor’s thighs clamp and start to shake, like he’s no longer in control of his own body.
Jayce moves his head back, lips and chin shiny with Viktor’s slick, taking a well-deserved full breath before he closes his lips around Viktor’s clit a final time. He lets his hand slip up Viktor’s legs and slide in between his thighs—two of his fingers sinking into the heat of Viktor’s cunt.
With firm and deep thrusts, Jeyce presses into Viktor’s pussy while he keeps his mouth working at the same relentless pace.
“Jayce—I’m—I’m going to—aaah—” Viktor chokes on a moan, hips lifting and lowering, as if he’s trying to push closer and pull away at the same time.
Jayce growls against him, fingers curling inside Viktor, tongue flicking in quick, focused strokes.
Jayce locks his other hand behind Viktor’s small back and pulls him down just enough to grind Viktor’s pussy onto his mouth. Viktor gasps as his knees start to buckle, and Jayce steadies him with a groan, still sucking the clit between his lips.
The effect is immediately visible as Viktor throws his head back, hips jerking forward helplessly. Jayce holds him firmly in place, mouth utterly relentless.
Viktor’s voice cracks as his thighs shake violently. “I’m close—don’t stop, don’t—”
And Jayce doesn’t stop.
If anything, he sucks even harder, tongue stroking faster, pulling another wet, desperate cry from Viktor’s throat. Viktor grabs the back of the couch with one hand and pulls on Jayce’s hair with the other, fighting between keeping himself upright and grinding down on Jayce’s mouth as the pleasure builds sharp and hot in his belly.
His orgasm finally hits like a shockwave.
Viktor falls apart with a cry—his whole body initially stiffens, then shudders violently as he starts to come—his pussy tight, hot, and clenching around Jayce’s fingers. His knees nearly give out, but Jayce holds him through it all, licking him gently through every pulsing wave, drinking down everything Viktor has to offer him.
Still trembling, still braced above Jayce, thighs weak and slick, Viktor’s shaking eases into little aftershocks and his hand in Jayce’s hair loosens from a tight grip into something soft and tender.
Only then does Jayce allow himself to slowly pull back, kissing Viktor’s inner thigh, before he speaks, voice low and ruined. “God, baby, you taste incredible,” he says, as he licks up a rogue trace of Viktor’s orgasm from the flesh of his left thigh. “Been wanting to do that for so long.”
“So good for me,” Viktor says, slumping down onto Jayce’s lap as his breath starts to settle.
Jayce’s grey sweats are now stained from Viktor’s wetness, as his cock twitches under the soft material. Precum leaks from it, wetting the sweats from the inside and Jayce needs to fuck that warm and tight pussy before he blacks out.
“Need to fuck that warm and tight pussy,” Jayce says. “Need to fill you up with my cum.”
“Yes. Yes, please, Jayce, fuck me—” Viktor starts panting and wailing while he’s writhing down on Jayce’s lap. He’s already come twice but Viktor still wants more and who is Jayce to deny him?
He helps Viktor rise up as Jayce struggles to free himself from the confines of his sweatpants as quickly as possible. He tugs at his waistband and shimmies his hips until the blasted piece of clothing is pushed down his thighs and slips around his ankles.
Jayce gives himself a couple of uncoordinated pumps, gathering the precum that’s sliding down the head of his cock, trying to work it around the entirety of his head, lubing himself up as best he can.
It’s still not enough, and he doesn’t want to hurt Viktor. As wet as his pussy might be, Jayce needs to do a better job at prepping himself, so he brings his palm up in front of Viktor’s mouth and tells him to spit.
Viktor does it without any hesitation.
Jayce brings the palm down in front of his own lips and does the same, and then lets his hand slip between onto his cock and starts coating himself with their mix. Once he feels like he’s done a good enough job, he grabs Viktor by the hips and tugs him back down onto his lap.
“Can you straddle me some more?” Jayce asks. “Or I can put you on your back instead.”
His eyes are full of hunger, and he needs to be inside Viktor now, but he knows Viktor might not be able to ride him due to his bad leg.
“I can,” Viktor breathes raggedly. “I want to—please, Jayce.”
“Yes, yeah. Fuck yeah,” Jayce replies and guides Viktor down.
As Viktor settles on his knees on Jayce’s lap, Viktor’s hand grabs the cock and guides it swiftly in between his legs. There’s no moment for pause, no hesitation. Jayce instantly feels the heat and the smoothness of that tight, hot pussy, its soft walls closing around his throbbing cock.
And then Viktor starts to move, to actually ride him.
Both men have their heads thrown back—Jayce’s palms splayed on Viktor’s tiny waist, his fingers almost able to touch as he guides his up-and-down movements. Viktor’s hands are in Jayce’s hair, arms resting on his shoulders, as he is both pulling and pushing him away.
It’s a mix of panting and moaning and half-groaned words that fill up the room. It’s the plap-plap-plap sound of Jayce’s cock thrusting up inside Viktor and the squelch of wet pussy lips gripping around his cock.
It’s a mess, and it’s hot and insane—but it’s also so right. It’s exactly what has been missing between them all along.
“Close. So close—” Viktor says, letting his head fall forward, and Jayce does the same.
Their foreheads are now glued together, mouths panting into each other, breathing each other in.
“Me—too—so—close,” Jayce says on every thrust.
“Please—” Viktor says as Jayce explodes inside him, hot spurts of release painting his insides, mixing with the already drenched walls of his cunt. And all Viktor can do is let his third orgasm take control of his body, getting lost in the pleasure of muscle spasms and lightning coursing through his veins.
They hold each other close as they come down from the high, neither one of them willing to let the other go.
“Viktor,” Jayce presses the name into his skin, nose brushing behind Viktor’s ear, down the column of his throat. “Viktor,” he says again, voice pleading, praying.
“Jayce,” Viktor gasps out a small sound of his own, fingers still buried tight in his hair.
“I love you,” Jayce says, putting all of his fears aside. “I—I’ve loved you for a while. And I need you,” he adds, a sudden fear in his voice.
“You have me—” Viktor says as he catches his breath. “I will never let you go, lásko. I promise. I love you too, Jayce. Since the beginning.”
When they decide it’s time to move away from the couch and settle into bed, abandoning their responsibilities for today, Viktor keeps his promise. He keeps his legs wrapped around Jayce’s waist, whose softened cock is still settled inside him, and never lets go.