Work Text:
The first time that Viktor notices, he doesn’t think much of it.
Mel had paid them a visit after a recent meeting with the council, seemingly eager to catch up on their progress and, if Viktor has to guess, have a chance to visit Jayce away from the prying eyes of her fellow peers.
He retreats to his corner of their lab to find something to occupy his time with—as he so often does during these visitations. He goes through his notes, making revisions in his equations as needed and fundamentally blocking out their conversation. They tend to last longer than he cares to listen to here lately.
However, it’s Jayce’s laughter that eventually draws his attention back to them—this modest, almost bashful sound that he’s not quite sure he’s heard from the other before. Viktor looks up from his spreadsheets in time to see Mel with her hand on Jayce’s shoulder and a gentle look in her amber eyes. “You’re making phenomenal progress, Jayce,” she tells him. Her voice flows just as smooth and as sweet as honey, her hand navigating upwards to cup the side of his face in her palm. “Good work.”
It’s then that Viktor catches it.
Right then.
The slight widening of Jayce’s eyes, the bob of his adam's apple when he swallows. The slight flush of tan skin and the crooked smile that shows just a flash of pointed canines.
That laugh returns, too; awkward and a little embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck.
It's odd, but Viktor merely shakes his head before resuming his attention back to his work.
Jayce is something of a confident man, Viktor liked to think. At least, he’s certainly become one since their initial encounter. With the council on his side and his research given the green light, he’s been given the environment to bloom into something much different than he was when Viktor found him on the edge of his destroyed apartment all those months ago. One might compare him to the native flowers that occasionally find themselves at the edge of Piltover's gates or through cracks in the concrete in certain areas of the Undercity; once forlorn and withered from the wear of the city but often thriving into something gorgeous when given the support needed to survive.
All that is to say: it isn’t very often that Jayce lacks self-assurance in his abilities or his work. So when Viktor hears him stutter a thanks as if surprised or undeserving of the praise Mel gives him, the urge to roll his eyes is almost visceral.
It's not as though his response matters to Viktor.
He just finds it rather peculiar.
He supposed he shouldn’t. As inept as many like to assume he is to the workings of human social situations, he’s not completely ignorant.
Mel Medarda is beautiful. Alluring, one might even say. He assumes most men like Jayce would have a similar reaction when being complimented on their work by someone of her… stature.
The lipstick stains and poorly concealed marks along his neck that Jayce often returns with after their evenings together don’t go completely unnoticed, after all.
So, Viktor ignores it, choosing instead to jot down new notes to go over for a later presentation.
Viktor notices it again some odd weeks later. Only this time, it catches him by surprise.
It’s Heimerdinger who pays them a visit this time around, offering warm tea and his insight on their latest advancement in their research.
He always appears in awe of it all, which Viktor can appreciate considering just how many technological advancements he’s seen in his unusually long lifetime. They conduct a few tests together, go over more options, more equations, more possibilities.
It was easier for Viktor to be a part of these conversations, easier to lose himself in discussions of their work, their cause. Time's arrow loses track of them all after a little while, and when it is time for Heimerdinger to bid his goodbyes, the sun has long since dipped behind the horizon.
The scientist turns to Jayce with something of a smile, hopping off his work chair and dusting the nothing off his tiny yet very intricate jacket.
“Good job so far, my boy.” He praises, a swell of pride in his voice. He taps Jayce on the leg and gives Viktor an equally appreciative thumbs up, which he returns with a small nod of his thanks. When the door closes behind him, Viktor steals a glance over at his partner.
Jayce is practically beaming, though it’s clear he was trying to hide it. An utterly failed attempt, if Viktor might add. It’s like sun rays seeping in through the clouds after a storm. It’s a different kind of reaction than with Mel, Viktor notices. He doesn't appear as embarrassed this time, but there was still that flush of red along his ears and a crooked smile that splits his features, one Viktor easily recognizes as a sense of achievement.
“Interesting,” He murmurs, more so to himself.
The weight of his eyes on Jayce must have become noticeable, because it’s at that moment that he finally turned his attention toward him.
“What?” Jayce blinks, the color along his ears spreading a bit further down to his neck.
He gives Viktor a skeptical look, one that he merely returns with a shrug before bidding his own goodbye for the evening. “I did not say anything.”
Viktor has always been something of an observant man. It began as a trait born onto him from ignorance of those around him more than a conscious decision on his part. As an unassuming, disabled boy from the Undercity, it was easy to fade into the background—better left unheard and unnoticed lest he want trouble for himself. Dehumanizing in some ways, a blessing in others. It allowed him the privilege of inconspicuousness, allowed him to exist amongst himself and take in the world around him without being noticed when he didn't want to be.
Like now, for example.
Viktor stands off in the corner of the great hall, resting against a granite pillar with a glass of wine in one hand and his cane in the other, watching on while Piltover's best mingle around him: Inventors, councilmen, and some of the city's most privileged inhabitants. A formal is being held in celebration of their latest advancement in their hextech research—the next big step for the beloved city of progress. Jayce's speech had warmed the hearts of the masses, both young and old alike, and now it was time to sit back and enjoy some of the fruits of their labor.
Which was easy to do for someone like Jayce.
For Viktor? Well, these kinds of parties were never in Viktor's taste. As invisible as he often feels, it's simultaneously just as difficult not to feel as though he's out of place here. A fish out of water, in more ways than Viktor cares to think about. Jayce, on the other hand, was clearly born for this type of spotlight.
Viktor watches him from his place across the room. The way he talks, the way he interacts. He's so willing—willing to engage with anyone wanting a moment of conversation, willing to soak up their touch, their praise, their affection.
That's what Viktor notices the most, actually.
The glow of that smile and that same fainthearted laughter that Viktor swears he can still hear even over the crowd. It reminds him of the stray dogs he used to befriend in his youth, the ones that preen from a scratch behind the ear or a rub on their belly.
He can almost envision Jayce as exactly the same, excitedly tilting his head under his touch, metaphorical tail wagging happily behind him. It does something odd to Viktor when he thinks about it for too long.
It intrigues him, but it also leaves him with this feeling in his chest that he doesn't quite know how to explain. Warm, a little unpleasant. Viktor knows better than to dwell on that, though. Instead, he downs the last sip of his red wine and pushes any thought of Jayce far into the back of his mind, discarding the now empty chalice on a nearby table to be picked up later. It's late, and he's spent far more time than he'd like to here as it is. So, he shifts his weight onto his cane, aiming to make his exit when a hand on his shoulder stops him before he gets the chance.
“He's kind of cute when he gets like this, isn't he? ” Mel's familiar voice flaunts a humorous quality to it. She looks at Viktor with a soft smile, stealing a glance over at Jayce before taking a sip from her own cocktail. “The way he soaks up this attention.”
Viktor’s brows furrow together, a huff leaving him in the process. He looks at Jayce just as he so happens to break apart from his last conversation only to immediately enter into the next with just as much enthusiasm and politeness as before.
“I'm not sure what you're talking about,” he responds, though it's hardly very convincing, even to himself. Cute isn't something he's necessarily called Jayce before, but he also can't necessarily find it in himself to disagree.
Not that he's going to say that.
Mel chuckles, something quiet. “You’ve been staring at him for half the night, you know. I'm pretty sure you do.”
Viktor's limbs go stiff, heat settling beneath his collar. When he looks at Mel, it's with confusion, as if trying to figure out a motive to the conversation. But he's unable. Mel's expression is playful, her smile coy. It's absent of what one would consider malicious, but Viktor’s hackles start to rise regardless. He opens his mouth to defend himself at the very least, to conjure up some excuse of uninterest, something to assure Mel that he's keeping his eyes and hypothetical hands to himself, if that's what she's playing at. But his words, for once, fail him. They jumble incoherently on his tongue, falling forward in an unintelligible sentence.
Mel snorts at him for it before rolling her eyes. “You're not very good at lying on the spot, are you, darling?”
It takes a moment for Viktor to recover, but when he does, a frown weighs down his features. “ You may spare me your teasing. I was just about to take my leave.” Feeling taunted, he shrugs Mel's hand off his shoulder before walking past. He gets two steps in before she steps into his path once more.
“Jayce cares an awful lot about you, Viktor,” She hums. Her smile hasn't wavered, but it's something a bit more genuine than it was before. She looks over Viktor's shoulder, and Viktor follows her line of sight, watching as Jayce turns his attention over to them for a moment. He waves, eyes bright, and Viktor gives a small one in return. That feeling in his stomach comes back when he does, stronger this time.
He'd like to believe Mel. He and Jayce have worked together long enough now that it would be odd not to assume Jayce favors him in some aspects. But Viktor is selfish, and he's fairly certain he wants more than what Jayce would be willing to give him.
At least, he assumes as much. But then Mel leans in, breaking that train of thought, her voice lowered to a whisper when she speaks this time. “Between you and I, I’m sure he'd be a willing participant in whatever has been going on in that mind of yours.”
That startles Viktor.
His eyes widen, and color once again blooms across his cheeks and his ears. For a brief second, he almost loses grip on his cane, staggering back a little. “I don't—I don’t know what you are talking about,” he tries. Mel's expression tells Viktor that she doesn't quite believe him, her earlier statement clearly ringing with truth. However, she's polite enough not to verbally express as much this time. Instead, she chuckles, offering him an assuring pat on the shoulder before walking off to her fellow council members and leaving Viktor alone with his now spiraling thoughts.
Victor has a theory.
As a man of science, he's spent a fair amount of time gathering evidence to support said theory, knowing the importance of such. He's sat on it for a while, this hypothesis, pondering the outcomes and possibilities over the course of a few days. Weighing his options, weighing his consequences. Because risk was seldom ever without it. He only hopes this is worth it.
It's a particularly dreary evening when Viktor decides to put this theory to the test. The rain outside has been nonstop for several hours now, casting a muted overcast around the lab and subsequently matching the rather dull appearance of his partner. It's been weeks since Jayce has really left, having dived headfirst into their work following a drawback in their development. They've been making such great progress, and now… they are at a standstill.
It wasn't uncommon for either of them to spend their nights here, thoroughly exhausted but far too stubborn to allow themselves adequate rest. On the rare occasion that Viktor does navigate to his room to sleep, he will often find Jayce in the same place he left him in the following morning—hunched over his desk, hair disheveled, and drooling over his own spreadsheets.
Viktor has become accustomed to bringing him coffee most mornings, something strong from the academy cafeteria downstairs. This morning, Jayce seems especially grateful for it. “Ugh, thank you,” he says after Viktor nudges him awake, his voice thick from sleep or lack thereof. He sits up with a groan and an agonizing crack of his lower back, something loud enough to make Viktor wince a little.
Viktor observes him as he hands the man his coffee. He looks worse for wear today; his eyes show off his exhaustion, puffy and dark underneath. Stubble decorates his jawline, an indication he hasn't showered or shaved in a little while. Something inappropriate sneaks into his head at that thought, but he squashes it as quickly as it comes. “You're not going to get much done if you don't give your body time to recover from your efforts,” Viktor scolds. He narrowly avoids the look Jayce sends him for it, well aware of how hypocritical that may sound coming from him.
Then again, this instance isn't about him now, was it?
“Look who's talking,” Jayce huffs out a laugh. When Viktor looks at him again, he's wearing a playful half smile. “You’re just as guilty as sleeping over as I am.”
“Did not say I wasn't. I was simply stating a fact,” Viktor responds matter-of-factly. Jayce shakes his head at him before taking a sip of his coffee.
He sighs after he does, the muscles in his shoulders visibly easing in the slightest. At some point he ditched his suit jacket, opting to spend his night in nothing more than a white tank top. It exposes the intricate lines that make up the muscles in his shoulders. They flex ever so slightly with his movements. “It's just... this is killing me, V,” Jayce sighs. We were doing so well, and now it feels like we're back at square one. People are expecting something big from us during our next presentation, and I… I don't want to let them down.”
Jayce looks down at his hands in a way that makes Viktor want to compare him to an Undercity stray again. Only this time, kicked and thrown to the corner.
A slight frown weighs down Viktor’s features.
Jayce Talis has a predisposition to be extremely hard on himself, he has noticed.
He can always do better, be better. Viktor often admires his drive, but it's moments like this that make him wish Jayce could see himself through his eyes.
There's a moment that passes before Viktor approaches and places a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. He hesitates, just briefly, as his earlier theory plays around in his head. It freezes him for a moment; the negative possibilities and outcomes swirl around in a way that nearly makes him lose his nerve. If he miscalculated, this could be the end of everything. Their partnerships, their friendship. Jayce stares at him, warm brown eyes showcasing a measure of concern, confusion.
“Viktor?”
The sound of his name whispered so softly from Jayce snaps Viktor out of his racing thoughts. He clears his throat and takes a breath, squeezing Jayce's shoulder and little firmer. In part to ground himself and in part to offer a sense of comfort.
“We've hit, as you say, a snag,” Viktor muses. “However, you've made amazing progress as of late, Jayce. A drawback such as this does not extinguish that fact. I'm proud of you and of the work you've done. I…don't believe I tell you that enough.”
The sincerity in his voice is clear, he hopes. He watches Jayce's expression, waiting for some kind of sign that he's inevitably fucked up and needs to make his leave before Jayce shoves him away. Because perhaps there's a flaw in his theory and words of affirmation from Viktor will mean very little to him. But rather than any sign of anger or disgust at his words, Viktor finds exactly What he had hoped and theorized. Jayce's eyes widen, a light shining behind them in a way Viktor hasn't quite seen yet, much less directed at him. Something is different this time, though.
Jayce seems stuck, mouth parted in a reply that doesn't seem to come. The color in his face darkens a considerable amount, and Viktor can see the way it seeps down his chest. “O-oh. Really?” He smiles shyly, and it's so endearing that it presses Viktor to want to test his theory a little bit further. So, he does.
Steeling his nerves, he thinks back to Mel's words, letting them guide his hand upwards. It ventures slowly to Jayce’s chin, tilting it upwards just slightly. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the nervous swallow this appears to elicit. Viktor gives a gentle smile and rubs the pad of his thumb along the line on Jayce’s chin. “Yes. I mean it, Jayce. You're a brilliant inventor with a bright mind and a good heart. I have faith we’ll figure this out. Together.”
The room seems to still, and Viktor swears he can hear Jayce's heartbeat in the silence.
Powerful, steady, rapid.
But then, there's a shift. Jayce's expression filters into something slightly panicked, his muscles suddenly stiff under Viktor's touch. It startles Viktor at first, anxiety prodding at him to pull away and apologize for having made Jayce uncomfortable in any way. But then Jayce's eyes flicker downward at himself, that moment of panic rising. It's brief, a split-second break in eye contact that Viktor probably wouldn't have caught if he weren't looking directly at him.
Viktor follows the motion, and when he does, he realizes the cause of Jayce's change of demeanor.
Oh? Oh.
Jayce seems to notice the exact moment Viktor does, and it's in that moment that he suddenly scrambles out of his chair and to a standing position. He's laughing while he does, horrendously awkward as he trips over his own feet in a rushed attempt to create the distance he clearly thinks that Viktor wants.
“Wow, um, sorry,” Jayce blurts out. As he fumbles around an apology for his body's reaction, he swipes a random paper from the desk and holds it over himself. Viktor can't recall a time he'd seen the poor man this drained of color. It's almost humorous.
“Listen, I, uh, don't know what that was. We can forget it if you, uh—”
“Jayce…”
He's still babbling off apologies when Viktor approaches him. He doesn't stop, excuses flying out a mile a minute until Viktor flicks Jayce square in the forehead. “If you'd stop talking for a second, I'd tell you that you have nothing to apologize for,” he assures him.
Jayce is still looking at him with a stunned expression, his throat bobbing with another heavy swallow. Jayce is tall. Taller than Viktor, even when he attempts to stand up straight. But he manages a hand on his shoulder to guide Jayce back into his seat. He goes easily, allowing Viktor to resume his earlier position. “I had a suspicion you were susceptible to praise. Just not quite to this degree,” Viktor humors. Jayce’s skin brightens at his laughter. He looks as though he'd be willing to be swallowed by a crack in the ground. “God's, shut up. I'm not—shut up.” He whines pathetic. He looks away, or at least tries to, but Viktor is quick to pull his attention back to him.
“I don't think I will. I think… I want to explore this. Should you be willing.” Viktor offers something of a timid smile. Something soft, something that hopefully lets Jayce know there's an out if he wants there to be. He seems confused at first, and Viktor waits with bated breath as his offer finally seems to fully register. Jayce eventually nods, a bit too eager for his own good, and Viktor can't quite help the quiet laugh that leaves him.
“Good. Because I meant what I said, Jayce. You're brilliant, and you're overworking yourself. Perhaps we can help put your mind and body at ease.”
Now, Viktor isn't what one would call… experienced. However, he is a man of science; he knows anatomy and his way around the human body, so he uses that to his advantage. Discarding his cane, Viktor makes careful work of maneuvering himself to a comfortable position in Jayce's lap and attempts to straddle him. Jayce's hands rush to assist, which Viktor allows, guiding strong hands towards his back to help support him.
“V-victor, are you sure?” Jayce asks. Ever the gentleman, Viktor can see the slight concern behind his eyes. It isn't the most comfortable position with his brace, but he'll manage. Viktor snakes his lithe arms around Jayce's shoulders, scratching lightly at the hairs along the nape of his neck. He answers Jayce with a kiss, their mouths connecting with a gentleness that's both experimental and unsure. Viktor can taste the coffee on Jayce’s tongue—a grossly robust thing that he finds himself wanting to chase. So he does. And Jayce allows him, meeting his movements while the nerves finally start to settle. Viktor can sense the exact moment that Jayce's confidence returns to him. He tilts his head, urging Viktor in a little deeper while his hands occupy themselves along his back.
Calloused fingers trace along the bony ridges of his spine, the indents of his ribcage. Viktor shudders at the contact and, for a moment, almost forgets what his objective is. It was easy to lose himself in Jayce, easy to fall into his strength. It pulls him in like the sun's gravity, almost impossible to truly escape from.
But Viktor eventually manages to regroup. He regains his control, deepening the embrace even further. Jayce groans into him, and he swallows the sound while his hands trail down Jayce's chest and abdomen. Shaky, delicate fingers work at the gold clasp of his dress pants and tug them down until a thatch of coarse hair can be felt at his fingertips. Viktor flushes at the feeling, eager to explore just how far it goes. He pulls off from the kiss just enough to trail down Jayce’s jaw while he slides his hand further down his clothed erection. The stimulation, while indirect, immediately elicits the most pathetic noise. It's something between a groan and a whine, and Viktor would be lying if he said it didn't run a pleasant feeling straight through his core.
“V-victor, please…” he begs. Begs. His hips stutter at the touch, and when Victor adds more pressure, Jayce makes that noise again.
“Relax, Jayce. I've got you.” Viktor’s assurance comes with a kiss to his neck, his hand finally making its way past the barrier of Jayce's pants. He frees him from his confines, tentatively stroking him to full hardness. He's slow with his movements, taking his time to figure out what feels the best. There's a part of him that worries if he's doing this right.
Perhaps his lack of overall experience is starting to show through in his trembling hands. But Jayce's reactions tell him otherwise. He's breathless, gasping every now and then as if he'd suddenly been struck.
The blunt of his nails digs into Viktor's back, and he can tell he's doing his best to keep his hips still. When Viktor looks down, he does so in time to see Jayce's excitement, a dribble of clear liquid bubbling up from his slit. Nipping his bottom lip, Viktor gathers it with his thumb and uses it as further lubrication to swirl around the underside of his cock. “You're practically leaking.”
“Don't stop, V. P-please…” He hears Jayce immediately plead. His voice is feather light, and when Jayce takes a moment to look up at him, he's the most beautiful Viktor has ever seen. Warm eyes are lidded and hazed over, as if drunk. But he still looks at Viktor as if he's the world.. It's captivating.
“I won't. You spent tireless hours working for the betterment of your city. You deserve a moment's pleasure in return,” Viktor promises. He presses their foreheads against one another's, their breath intermingling in soft pants of air. “Look at you. You're doing very well, Jayce. Keep going, okay? Chase it. ”
He encourages Jayce to move as his body wills him, adding a bit more pressure in his movements. Jayce's eyes flutter back when he does. Viktor assumes he's close. So he waits. He waits until he can feel him twitch against his palm, waits until those quiet whines turn into even quieter grunts, as if struggling to prolong the inevitable.
There's a part of him that does want him to last. A part of him that wants to break his promise if only to draw this out a little bit longer. Because Viktor is selfish, and the power he feels as Jayce trembles at the grace of his hand has proven to be a rather addicting thing. But he supposed there really was no preventing the inevitable. Jayce's movements start to stutter, and Viktor takes note of the warning of his impending climax whispered out from under Jayce's breath. It's then that Viktor leans into Jayce's ear, nipping gently at his earlobe. “You're such a good boy, Jayce.” He whispers, strategically pumping against the head of his cock.
That seems to be Jayce's end. He cums wordlessly, head tossed back in a series of unintelligible noises as he spills himself into Viktor's hand and parts of his abdomen. He keeps at it, riding Jayce through the orgasm until the other's hand instinctively shoots around to grab his wrist when things become too sensitive.
When he stops, he plays with the aftermath of his partner's release, smoothing it between the pads of his fingers. There's so much of it, and Viktor pockets another hypothesis.
It's quiet while Jayce recovers. Heavy breaths and lowly whispered curses are the only things that leave him for a while. Viktor smirks, perhaps a little proud. He offers a kiss along his jaw in an attempt to help him come down. “Feel better?” He asks, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. He hears Jayce’s huff of laughter, fully expecting to be told to “shut up.”
What he doesn't expect is for the hands that were keeping him upright to suddenly slide under his thighs. Viktor startles, though he's unable to react before Jayce suddenly stands and sets him on the desk.
“ You’re something else, you know that?” The question is rhetorical, Viktor realizes. But he shrugs anyway; the corner of his mouth lifts with another coy smile. “I am not sure I know what you mean.”
His arms find themselves around his shoulders again, keeping him close. Jayce huffs, a certain look in his eye that certainly wasn't there before. Viktor doesn't quite get a chance to question it before Jayce asks, "Are you okay, by the way?" His attention falls to Viktor's brace, rubbing along the side of his hip. Viktor nods.
“ I am fine. My leg is just a little stiff, but I will survive.”
There's a twitch at the corner of Jayce's mouth. A smirk, something that shows just a glint of his canines. “Not just your leg though, right?” He chuckles and smooths a hand up Viktor's thigh, settling just below his own aching erection.
Red blooms beneath pale skin, suddenly feeling far more shy and exposed than he was mere moments ago. “Don't be crass.” He huffs, his gaze shifting to the side instead of his partner's eyes.
Jayce snorts, a full-body laugh following him right after. “Crass? You just had your hands on my—"
“That is different!” Viktor scoffs. Clearly, it's his turn to fluster. While he theorized several different outcomes and possibilities of this situation, not one of them included Jayce wanting to…reciprocate anything. But suddenly, Jayce is the one grabbing him by the chin, gently forcing his attention back towards him. Viktor finds it hard to swallow as Jayce leans further into his space. He seems so… massive from this angle. Like he could swallow him whole. For however sizable Jayce is, he's equally as gentle.
He brushes his knuckles across his cheekbones and tucks a strand of loose hair behind Viktor's ear. Viktor can't stop the tremor that immediately runs up the base of his spine. “It's not different.” He says. There's a lightness in his tone, something equal parts serious and playful. “Let me return the favor. You're not the only one who knows what words can do to the human body.”
He smirks, a shift of something stormy flickering behind those eyes.
Viktor bites the inside of his cheek. His heart races, as does his mind. There's a hesitation, not for lack of wanting what Jayce had to offer. He simply…worries. His body, it's different from Jayce's. Thinner, smaller.
There's a part of him that worries he won't particularly like what he sees.
However, at this moment, he supposes his desire outweighs his insecurities. Because he nods, and the next thing he knows, Jayce is smiling like an idiot and falling down to his knees before Viktor like a servant in worship of their God.
“I hope you've cleared your schedule.”
