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“The light hits your shoulder pads splendidly, Jayce,” Viktor says idly as he stands behind Jayce before the looking glass, reaching up to adjust his coat collar. Indeed, the sunbeams streaming through the window of the dressing room strike the velvety red and gold trim in a particular sort of way today.
Jayce huffs a laugh. “‘Shoulder pads.’ Are you mocking me?” He squints at his reflection in the full-length mirror as he attempts to straighten his tie.
“What shall I call them, then? Pauldrons?” Viktor teases, the curl of his lips audible in his voice. He sweeps his fingers along the hem of Jayce’s collar one final time before stepping around the taller man to stand face-to-face. “Let me.”
Jayce purses his lips, but quickly relents, allowing his hands to fall to his sides. Viktor resumes Jayce’s task, tugging lightly on the tie and tucking the slack into his gleaming white waistcoat. His eyes narrow and he plucks a speck of lint from Jayce’s dark shirt before smoothing his hands over the flat of his lapels.
“Well? How do I look?” Jayce asks.
“With me as your minder… immaculate, of course.”
“Thank you,” Jayce says, the words laced with a quiet affection.
“It is an important day for you, Councilor.” Viktor smiles impishly.
“Hey,” Jayce pouts, tipping Viktor’s chin up with a finger. “It’s important for you, too.” He runs his hands through the locks of Viktor’s hair until it is slightly wavy and artfully mussed.
“You have fussed over my hair at least five times this morning.”
“I need you looking your very best today.”
Another smirk. “My very worst is reserved only for you.” Viktor steps back and retrieves his cane from where it hangs over the lip of the bureau. Jayce takes his time as his eyes scan Viktor’s body, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He smiles to himself, always pleased to see his man clad in Talis colors.
“Ready?”
“Ah, ah. Are you truly forgetting my favorite part?” Viktor chides.
Jayce blinks. “Gods. That would’ve been embarrassing.” He just about skips over to the doorway to fetch something hanging from the coat hooks before returning to Viktor. Viktor lifts his chin again, a soft smile across his face as he waits.
Jayce wraps the wine-red strip of leather around Viktor’s neck and secures the buckle, tight enough to visibly press into the flesh. A golden, T-shaped pendant catches the light brilliantly as it dangles over the scoop of Viktor’s throat.
“There,” Jayce says. “Perfect.”
Viktor looks at him expectantly.
Jayce laughs now, rich and throaty.
“So demanding. You should know your place.” Nevertheless, he leans in for a gentle peck of the lips.
Apparently satisfied, Viktor glances at the clock and taps his cane once against the hardwood floor.
“Let us be on our way,” he says.
They exit the dressing room into the hall. Their footsteps and the rhythmic tapping of the cane echo loudly against the high ceiling and the wide expanses of the walls, dotted with high windows and sumptuous drapery and impressively rendered portraits of dead dignitaries. Jayce takes point, with Viktor following closely but decidedly behind him.
Clusters of attendees loiter in the branching halls, the din of their conversations abruptly ceasing as their attention conspicuously turns to the two men treading by. Whispers abound as Jayce and Viktor make their way through the venue, the sea of onlookers parting around them. The scrutiny of the crowd fills Jayce with a strange sort of confidence, his chest puffing and the click of his bootheels echoing louder, knowing Viktor is right behind him.
An oily voice reverberates above the dull drone of the others.
“Pretty thing he has. I wish he was mine.”
Jayce’s eye twitches involuntarily, but he maintains his assertive stride.
“I could show you a better time than your Councilor,” another calls out as Viktor passes by.
Jayce stops short, his hand jutting out behind him to command Viktor to halt. The whispers are immediately silenced. He turns slowly, eyes scanning the herd, expression darkening as a bitter, possessive anger bubbles up from his gut.
“You’re all fortunate that I don’t know who said that, but I have half a mind to have you all expelled anyway,” he bites at the soundless crowd. “You will have some respect for my station, and Viktor’s, or you won’t like the consequences.”
Jayce takes a breath, letting his admonishment sink in for a painful moment before wordlessly turning back around and continuing his march, brows knitted and muscles clenched. He only manages to relax a hair when he hears the comforting beat of Viktor’s cane against the tile behind him.
They approach an imposing set of metal double doors. Jayce gives a curt nod to each of the enforcers posted to either side before the doors chunk loudly and begin to grind open, bathing the two men in the cold light of the chambers of the Council of Piltover.
The Council chamber is markedly different on this day. Normally spacious and sparsely furnished, the chamber has been arranged in the manner of a theater of sorts, with telescopic seating circling the immense room. Already tightly packed with spectators, more begin to file into the room in the wake of Jayce and Viktor and squeeze into the few remaining available seats. Grandiose heraldry bearing the seal of House Talis hangs heavily from the walls. A small set of stairs lead up to a raised dais situated in the center of the round Council table.
The last of the stragglers trickle in, the event now standing-room only. A loud clank sounds throughout the chamber as the doors slowly shut and the murmurs of the crowd die out. Jayce, staring hard ahead, steps up before the dais and crosses his arms behind his back. Viktor follows, only now standing at Jayce’s side.
A spotlight clicks on and illuminates a member of the Council.
“Councilor Talis, you are late.”
“Fashionably late, I believe, Councilor Salo.”
Salo’s mouth twists into something that could be a smile or a sneer, but he offers a polite nod of concession. It’s Jayce’s show, after all.
“Your Viktor appears most fetching today, Councilor Talis,” Salo says, apparently unable to resist his ever-present urge to get another word in. “I dare say I’ve never seen such alluring beauty from a Zaunite.”
Jayce was ready for this. He suppresses the embers in his veins and the flare of his nostrils and fixes a cool gaze on Salo. There’s one thing he knows about him that reflects… poorly upon a Councilor.
“I quite agree,” Jayce replies courteously. “Many are not so lucky. I wish you only the best in finding such a pleasing partner… in time.”
Salo’s face reddens and his mouth parts, but another spotlight clicks on and interrupts his attempt at a retort.
Cassandra Kiramman taps the table with a finger. “We all do so enjoy a bit of congenial repartee amongst ourselves, but with respect, I would suggest we proceed with the ceremony. Councilor Talis is sure to be eager.” She smiles cordially, but Jayce knows her better.
The boiling blood in Salo’s forehead is audible from the stands, but he visibly represses himself.
“Yes.” He clears his throat. “A momentous day for our newly inaugurated Head of the Council.”
Salo flattens his hands against the table and stands. Jayce isn’t sure if he should be insulted or devilishly pleased that Salo has been tasked with announcing his rite.
“Good people of Piltover, we gather here today to witness something truly historic: a coveted sacrament, the most rare and revered form of ritual union of a Dominant and a submissive. We come to observe this most sacred vow, to remain together until death; dissolution of such a contract is strictly forbidden.” Salo turns to Jayce and Viktor. “You will remain joined, come what may.”
The crowd murmurs again, and Jayce’s heart swells with anticipation. He wants to look at Viktor, to see his partner’s pride, to shake him with glee, but Jayce has an appearance to keep up in front of all of them.
“Councilor Jayce Talis, you shall be solely responsible for the conduct and well-being of your Viktor for the rest of your life. You will carry out the legal duties of a Dominant: to lead, to command respect, to discipline, and always comport yourself accordingly. Do you understand these terms?”
Jayce’s heart jumps. “I do.”
Salo’s face sours, but he continues.
“And… Viktor. You shall be solely responsible for satisfying the needs of your Jayce for the rest of your life. You will carry out the legal duties of a submissive: to behave, to support, to serve, and always comport yourself accordingly. Do you understand these terms?”
Viktor’s soft voice booms in Jayce’s ears. “I do.”
Salo purses his lips. “Very well.” He gestures toward the other Councilors and to the crowd surrounding them. “We’ve come to the defining component of this ceremony, a rite so rarely performed in our society, reserved for only the most dedicated and esteemed members of our community. The opportunity to take part in this rite is the greatest of honors Piltover can bestow. Perform this rite, and your union shall be sealed.”
Jayce steels himself and offers a singular, resolute nod. His eyes shift briefly to Cassandra Kiramman, his patron for so many years, a model Dominant of Piltover. She looks… proud.
Jayce takes a step toward the short flight of stairs to the dais. He offers a hand to Viktor behind him, carefully guiding him up each step, letting him leverage his weight against him. He finally locks eyes with the man he’s pledging himself to. Viktor looks at Jayce like he’s the only man in the world: his gaze is gentle, but purposeful; the lines of his face softened into pure contentment. He’s ready.
They move to the center of the round dais. There’s a small chest of drawers at the edge containing relevant supplies. Lightly grasping Viktor’s hands in his, Viktor gives a reassuring squeeze, and Jayce knows they won’t need them.
Another spotlight clicks on, and Salo’s voice projects throughout the room one final time.
“Councilor Jayce Talis and Viktor of Zaun, you must now prove your devotion before all of Piltover. Please proceed… with the consummation.”
Jayce slowly raises his right hand to cup Viktor’s face. He runs his thumb over his lips, caresses the soft spot below his ear. Viktor leans into it, pressing his cheek against Jayce’s palm and nuzzling the skin. The look in his eyes is all the go-ahead Jayce needs.
Suddenly, Jayce jerks his hand up, carding his fingers through Viktor’s hair and tugging hard at the locks. Viktor inhales a sharp intake of breath, but he doesn’t resist. Jayce pulls Viktor’s head backward and leans down to bring their mouths together, kissing him roughly, their teeth clacking and tongues wrapping. Viktor mewls quietly onto Jayce’s lips – a familiar sound, a favorite sound, one that signals capitulation, trust, release.
Jayce keeps pulling, pulling, pulling at Viktor’s hair, separating them and guiding him downward in a familiar, practiced motion, one that Jayce knows brings minimal pain to Viktor’s bones, a type of pain neither of them particularly enjoys. Viktor grips hard onto the hems of Jayce’s coat as he slides down, his eyes fixed on Jayce and mouth parted in reverence. His knees hit the dais, a loud clank sounding as the brace makes contact with the floor, a slight rattle as his cane is set down.
Viktor’s teeth chatter from a nonexistent cold as he looks up at Jayce, hands hanging limply by his sides as Jayce maintains a tight tension on his hair, waiting.
Jayce’s free hand wanders to the button of his trousers. He taps it once, prompting Viktor’s hands to scramble upward. They shiver as his fingers fumble with the button, the task proving difficult with the fabric pulled taut over the tent of Jayce’s hard cock.
The button finally pops open, and Jayce’s cock presses ever harder against the cloth of his pants. He watches with eager satisfaction as Viktor reaches inside the fly and wraps his fingers around his shaft to pull his cock free of its cage, hot, reddened, and weeping from the slit.
The collective gasp would suck the air from the room if Jayce could perceive anything but Viktor’s open mouth and lolling tongue.
“Good,” Jayce praises. “Now show me.”
Jayce braces the back of Viktor’s head with his palm and yanks him forward. A warm pleasure washes over him from his cock to his toes to the crown of his head as Viktor’s lips wrap around him, taking Jayce’s length until he seemingly cannot take more.
“More,” Jayce commands.
There’s a strangled whimper as Jayce bears down harder on the back of Viktor’s head and inches his hips forward until he can feel his tip grazing the back of Viktor’s throat. Viktor shudders and strains for air, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he struggles to swallow down Jayce’s thickness.
Jayce tightens his hold on Viktor’s hair as he drags him backward, leaving a wet sheen of spit along his length before slamming Viktor back down until his throat bulges with cock. Viktor paws wildly at Jayce’s hips until his hands finally find purchase, bracing himself as Jayce holds his head in place and begins to thrust into his mouth. It’s generous at first, considerate of a man’s natural limits – Jayce simply enjoys the feeling of the flat of Viktor’s tongue sliding along the protruding veins of his shaft. Though with each passing stroke, Jayce pushes a little more, a little further, a little faster, until his hips audibly crack as they snap into Viktor’s mouth with uninhibited abandon.
He doesn’t need to do this, he thinks amusedly between the waves of pleasure. The public consummation ceremony truly only requires one specific act. But Jayce is proud of the two of them, proud of Viktor – proud of the lengths he knows Viktor would go to for him, in front of all of them.
Fat tears roll down Viktor’s face now, wetting the hollows of his cheeks until they shine prettily under the bold spotlight. His keens and muffled cries vibrate around Jayce’s cock, sending rushes of tingles up Jayce’s spine. Despite his apparent distress, though, Jayce can feel Viktor trying his mightiest to suck him down in rhythm as he pounds into his mouth.
“Good, Viktor,” Jayce coos. “You’re the only one who can do this for me.”
Viktor’s hold on Jayce’s hips tightens at the compliment. His hands jump to grip at Jayce’s ass, attempting to take him even farther down his throat.
The view is immaculate – Viktor’s tears of desperate, concentrated effort, the furious blush over his cheeks, his bruise-plush lips repeatedly sliding over the sensitive head of Jayce’s cock. The pleasure builds like a cresting wave, the sensations almost overwhelming. He’s nearly there.
Jayce abruptly jerks Viktor’s head backward, snapping a string of saliva and leaving his cock bouncing. Viktor trembles and shivers as he coughs once, twice, but his eyes beg for more, beg for the chance to make Jayce come right then.
“Ah, ah.” Jayce threads his fingers through Viktor’s ruffled hair down to cradle his quivering chin. “You’re perfect; you’re doing perfectly. But you know what I have to do.”
Viktor nods shakily, more saliva dripping out of the corners of his mouth. He braces himself with Jayce’s legs as he slowly slides down to his hands and knees and shuffles around to present his ass to him, arching his back as best as he can.
Jayce gives Viktor’s ass an appreciative rub as he kneels behind him. “Lower.”
Viktor sniffles and lowers himself to his elbows.
Jayce’s hand juts forward to grab Viktor’s collar at the nape, tugging him backward and leaving him gasping for air.
“Lower.”
Jayce releases Viktor’s collar, the sudden loss of tension sending him face down into the floor, cheek pressed to the hardwood. He splays one hand across the side of Viktor’s head, pushing him down as his other hand takes hold of the waist of Viktor’s pants and yanks.
The tear of the fabric echoes throughout the hall, and Jayce thinks he hears another gasp from the audience, but he can’t care with Viktor’s hole now on display for him.
“Just for me,” Jayce muses aloud as he thumbs lightly at the puckered entrance, pulsing with want and need to be filled. “Everyone has to see that this… this is just for me.”
“Jayce–”
“No,” Jayce cuts in. “You’ll be heard soon enough.”
Viktor squirms and writhes under the press of Jayce’s hand, tiny grunts escaping his mouth as he wriggles his ass, still trying to arch it higher. Jayce gives his back a soothing rub, his fingers ghosting over the hard shell of his brace, as if to say: you’re doing amazing.
Jayce lifts his hand from Viktor’s back and wraps it around his cock, giving it a cursory few tugs before swirling the tip around the rim of Viktor’s perfectly dry hole, smearing the mixture of his own saliva and Jayce’s precum around the ring of muscle. Holding Viktor’s head firmly in place and focusing his gaze, without warning, Jayce spits directly on Viktor’s asshole and drives in to breach the tight, unyielding entrance with the head of his cock.
The fanfare is immediate. Whoops and claps and cheers and jeers echo throughout the Council’s hall. Spectators spring to their feet, wave and pump their fists. One sound manages to coalesce and rise above the raucous din from the audience: the call for more.
Viktor’s cock jumps and weeps, painfully ignored as his animalistic scream rips through the air. He coughs and sputters before releasing a long, wounded groan that crescendos as Jayce, undeterred, propels himself in further with only a bit of saliva to ease the insertion.
“Take it, Viktor. Take all of me. I know you can.”
Viktor gasps and gulps and sobs for air, nodding almost imperceptibly, his body shaking as he visibly fights his urge to collapse to the floor.
Jayce cards his fingers through Viktor’s hair again, gently this time, beads of sweat dampening and flattening the locks. The tender gesture presents a sweet contrast to the unrelenting advance of Jayce’s cock into Viktor’s most intimate parts, untouched by anyone but Jayce.
“Gods, it burns, Viktor. I love it like this,” Jayce breathes as Viktor’s heat clenches and pulsates around him. The lack of slickness even hurts the thin skin of Jayce’s cock a bit, but he’s too high on the thrill to care.
Jayce’s head lolls back and he loosens his clenched jaw as he finally bottoms out inside Viktor, hips to ass. He swirls his hips in a circle, relishing the feeling of Viktor’s impossibly tight inner walls massaging around him.
He allows himself a few long seconds of the ecstasy of sealing his union with Viktor, coupling them eternally in the eyes of the law. Jayce drops his head, forcing himself to take in the scenery surrounding them for the first time since they took the stage. The crowd is on their feet, roaring, wholly titillated by the salacious display.
“Talis! Talis! Talis!”
“Break him!”
“Talis! Talis! Talis!”
Drunkenly, Jayce’s eyes slide around the circumference of the Council’s table encircling them. Cassandra Kiramman sits back, smiling, proud and pleased, a finger idling at her chin. Other Council members nod their approval, some scribbling notes onto official documents in front of them. Jayce makes icy eye contact with Salo, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his expression embittered with something that could be jealousy.
The satisfaction of winning spurs Jayce into action. He presses his fingers hard into Viktor’s flesh, purpling the skin. He then draws his hips back slowly only to drive his cock back in with a quick snap, repeating it a few times, each action punctuated by a pinched cry from Viktor. Viktor’s cries and groans of pain morph into low moans of what sounds a lot like pleasure.
The world goes silent around them again as Jayce begins to pump into Viktor in earnest.
“You like it when it hurts a little. You like letting me hurt you a little. You know I’ll always make it all better. Just me.”
“Just… you,” Viktor chirps in between gasps and hiccups..
The energy in the air turns frenetic as Jayce’s pace increases with each thrust, fucking into Viktor with slaps loud enough to send his own ears ringing. Viktor’s pretty little hole blooms a harsh red, the stretch and pressure almost too much, but Viktor just moans more, arches more, sinks lower to accommodate Jayce’s pounding. Jayce leans down and spits again, wetting his cock just a little more before it plunges back into Viktor.
The roar of the crowd tolls dully in Jayce’s brain, fully focused on his fingers digging harder into Viktor’s hips and his thrusts growing erratic as he inches closer to the precipice.
“Are you ready, Viktor? Are you ready to– fuck, Viktor; are you ready to be mine forever?” Jayce pants, his thoughts spiralling into a feral, possessive fugue. He’s wanted this so terribly since the moment he met Viktor all those years ago, since the moment he laid eyes on that cute little ass, since the moment he first traded theories with the most brilliant man he’s ever met.
Viktor’s pale fingers nearly drive divots into the flooring. He nods frantically, his eyes glassy and his saliva beginning to pool on the hardwood where his cheek meets the ground.
“I want you to show them. I want– I want to be yours, Jayce. Show them all!”
Jayce releases his hold on Viktor’s hair and kneels over, chest flush with Viktor’s back, and wraps his arms around his torso, mounting him fully.
“Fuck– fuck, Viktor– I’ll never– I will never–”
Jayce’s breath is stolen from him as he fucks into Viktor with one final, powerful thrust and comes hard, his cock twitching and spasming inside Viktor until he’s completely spent. Jayce thinks he hears Viktor’s shout ringing out beneath the deafening cheers of the audience.
Jayce breathes once. Twice. Three times. He straightens and reaches down gingerly to grasp the base of his softening cock and pulls it out slowly, leaving a trail of cum dripping down the seam of Viktor’s sack onto the floor and intermingling with the pool of cum already lying there.
Councilor Salo, looking soundly defeated, stands robotically. The noisy audience dies down to hushed whispers as he removes a spyglass from his pocket. Twisting it until it is fully extended, he trains the tool directly on Viktor’s messy hole. Gobs of cum begin to pour forth from inside Viktor, the final proof of Jayce and Viktor’s unbreakable oath.
Salo sniffs, twists the spyglass closed, nods stiffly to the other Council members, and retakes his seat as the sea of onlookers explodes into cheers again.
Jayce still can’t hear it. He’s too busy scrambling to collect Viktor in his arms. Viktor sags limply as Jayce lays him out in his lap and peppers the unshed tears on his eyelashes with soft kisses.
“We did it, Viktor,” Jayce whispers to him, nose-to-nose. Jayce’s misty eyes threaten to betray him as well.
Viktor’s half-lidded, tired eyes fix on Jayce’s.
“... did I do well?”
“You did the best,” Jayce says, his thumb caressing Viktor’s cheekbone as they exchange a few private words, just for them. “God, Viktor; you couldn’t be more perfect. I could never…” He shakes his head. “I will never love anyone like I love you.”
Viktor huffs out a laugh that turns into a weak cough, prompting Jayce to cradle him closer. He reaches up to ghost his fingers over Jayce’s stubble, then brings them down to tap the pendant hanging from his collar.
“This,” he manages between coughs, “means more to me than anything, Jayce. Being yours has been the joy of my life.”
Jayce’s lip trembles.
“I’ll never let you down, Vik. I’ll never make you want to take off that collar.”
The Council files their paperwork away into binders to be archived later. The spotlights click off one by one. Dull noise thrums throughout the chamber as the people make their way down the stands and exit through the grand doors, their footfalls and chatter waning away into a silent stillness.
Jayce doesn’t notice any of it. He removes his coat and drapes it over Viktor like a fine blanket. They remain locked in their comfortable embrace for some time – maybe minutes, perhaps hours – stitched together forever as soundly as the collar around Viktor’s throat.