Chapter Text
Jayce barely catches the faint whir of movement before the automaton steps into the light.
“Allow us a moment of civility, Jayce. We must talk.”
A mechanical voice emits from the automaton, and Jayce’s brows furrow in a mix of disbelief and suspicion. The thoughtful lilt of the voice, the sundry accent were as familiar to him as the back of his own palm.
“Viktor,” he says, his voice low. “How did you get in here?”
“You once benefited from my knowledge of this place,” Viktor replies, stepping closer. The automaton’s movements are unnervingly fluid, more human than machine, its grace at odds with its porcelain perfection.
“That,” Jayce sneers, “was a long time ago.”
“Had you given me the chance,” the automaton says, tilting its head, studying Jayce with a sort of detached curiosity. “ I would have shown you the merits of my work. Our work.”
“No,” Jayce grits out. “This is your obsession. Everything you did to these people, you did alone.”
With a snarl, Jayce swings his hammer down in one smooth arc. The automaton leaps back as gracefully as ever, its effortlessness mocking the force of Jayce’s attack.
“Perhaps,” Viktor admits, unruffled. The automaton rises smoothly, its form a pale, threatening wraith shrouded in the shadows above. “But I am alone no longer. I now speak with all their voices.”
Jayce’s eyes dart around the room, apprehensive. “Say what you came here to say.”
Viktor’s tone softens, almost tender now. “Somehow, I think you already understand what must transpire to complete my mission. I would prefer to do so in peace. But the Noxians… they have other intentions.”
“Viktor,” Jayce warns, his voice a thousand years old. “For all our sakes, stay away from the Hexgates.”
With that, Jayce charges once more, his hammer raised high in the air. But the automaton simply evades again without so much as a stumble. As Jayce’s momentum carries him forward, the other man twists in a blur of motion and pushes him into the council table almost offhandedly.
“Your mind has become rigid, Jayce. Fear clouds your judgment.”
Jayce gasps for breath, momentarily pinned against the table.
Viktor’s figure looms closer, his voice laced with mingled regret and something dangerously similar to possessiveness.
“This chain of events started with you,” he murmurs.
With a roar, Jayce surges to his feet, his hammer swinging wildly. Viktor dodges once more, automaton form moving like water.
Before Jayce can react, Viktor closes the distance between them. The automaton’s jumps lithely onto Jayce’s back and its limbs coil around him in a firm grip, pinning his arms at his sides. Jayce struggles, every muscle straining, but the hold refuses to yield.
A hand cups firmly under Jayce’s chin, tilting his head upward. The automaton’s touch is strangely gentle and Jayce freezes, his breath catching as Viktor’s thumb brushes against his lower lip.
“In my confusion, I was unable to reconcile this,” Viktor whispers, his voice barely audible. “But now I understand. The glorious evolution is destined. Let us instead do this once again, as partners.”
“My partner,” Jayce snarls through gritted teeth at the corpse using his friend’s voice, “died in this room.”
Viktor pauses. Jayce could nearly picture the disappointed frown that etched itself into his face.
Then, his voice dips, quiet. “It was my sincere desire to avoid this.”
Jayce lets out a guttural roar, twisting with every ounce of strength left in his body. Muscles strained, adrenaline surged, and with a violent wrench, he tears himself free.
He rallies every bit of strength he has and slams Viktor into the heavy table behind them with a bone-rattling crash.
But the victory was cruelly short-lived.
Viktor moves like liquid steel, and in one sweeping motion, he hooks a leg around Jayce’s knees and yanks them out from under him. Jayce’s feet slips, and he hits the ground hard, the air rushing from his lungs. Before he could recover, Viktor is already above him, hands closing around Jayce’s throat and lifting him off the ground.
The world swims in and out of his vision as Jayce gasps for breath, his fingers scrabbling uselessly at the automaton’s iron grip. Unable to put up a resistance, his hammer is pried from his grasp with a gentleness that feels almost chastising, mocking his fruitless struggle. The pressure around Jayce’s throat builds and builds, his vision blurring as he teeters on the edge of unconsciousness.
“This does not have to be your end, Jayce,” Viktor says, his voice level, serrating through the haze of Jayce’s fading consciousness. His tone was devoid of malice, but it sounded inevitable, as if the decision has already been made, and Jayce’s fate was no longer his to control.
The edges of Jayce’s vision darken, and the last remnants of light slip away.
—
Jayce wakes up as the orgasm washes through him, his back arching at the flood of pleasure. Wetness covers his groin, his stomach, and Jayce becomes aware of the burning in his body all of the sudden like the world coming into focus— the simmering of arousal under his skin, his quick, shallow breathing thundering in his ears.
“Wha—“
“Jayce. I see you have awoken.”
It's Viktor.
He's no longer inhabiting the body of an automaton, but back in the form of when he first stepped out of the Hex Core.
Sensing his doubts, Viktor muses. “I can shape my body any way I please. I assumed this form as I thought it would be more—palatable—to you.”
Jayce opens his mouth to retort, but all coherent thoughts are purged from his mind as a fresh wave of pleasure courses through him. Viktor’s cock is buried deep inside him, his thrusts fast, deep, and relentless, plowing into his ass so good it quivers and spasms around him. Jayce is horrified at the whimper he lets out.
His back is pressed firmly against Viktor’s chest, leaving him fully exposed as his captor claims him, over and over. Each time their hips meet, Jayce’s thighs tremble helplessly, yet he is unable to close them. He must be quite the sight—his entire body flushed and glistening with sweat, his stomach muscles taut with every thrust, his broad chest heaving as he struggles for breath. His back arches and relaxes in sync with the rhythm Viktor has set, a perfect display of submission and desire.
And to make matters worse, they were still in the council room. Anyone could walk in at any moment. Anyone could see him like this—subdued, defiled, and utterly undone. They could witness the way his slutty hole eagerly swallows Viktor’s cock, pulling him in until he’s buried to the hilt, balls deep.
“Your mind put up quite a fight just now, and someone had been tampering with it, so it seems. I could not quite convert you. But no matter. It might take a little more time than I would have liked, but I will have you by my side, as my partner, once more.”
A sharp gasp escapes Jayce as Viktor’s fingers begins to knead and tease, tracing over his his chest. The touch was maddening, calculated—circles shrinking toward his nipples until Viktor’s thumbs grazes the taut buds with precise pressure. Against his will, Jayce feels them stiffen under the ministrations, a blush of shame rising to his cheeks.
“Look how beautifully you respond,” Viktor whispers against his ear, his voice low, rich with satisfaction. “Why make it so hard for yourself?”
Jayce opens his mouth to refute the claim, to regain some measure of dignity, but Viktor chose that exact moment to roll the hardened peaks between his fingers. The exquisite sensation rips a wanton moan from Jayce’s lips. He writhes against Viktor, a futile attempt to escape the addictive touch, but Viktor’s hand presses him firmly in place.
“Wh—What do you mean?” Jayce demands, with far less gusto than he intended it to have.
Viktor places a hand on his lower abdomen, and to his horror, he sees a purplish-red mark with a sinister pattern identical to what Ekko had shown him on the leaf.
“If you lose to the pleasure enough, I will have you for myself. No resistance or spell will stop you from joining me at last.”
With this, Viktor continues on with his ministrations. He pushes his thumb against Jayce’s nipple, pushes hard, and the sensation makes Jayce whimper. His head falls back, baring the long line of his sweat-slicked throat. Viktor pulls him in tighter, so he can feel Jayce tremble, and rocks his thumb over the hard nub of flesh. “Admit it, Jayce. You’ve been aching for this.” He watches as the effects of his touch flicker there, in the tension that flashes across Jayce's brow and the way his mouth gapes open on a breath. “Why not surrender and let me take care of you?”
Jayce clenches his jaw, refusing to respond. If he spoke, if he let Viktor’s words seep into his thoughts, he would break.
“Still stubborn, I see.” Viktor chuckles. “Well, if you’ve nothing to say, I’ll just have to let your body speak for you. It’s been begging for my attention, hasn’t it?”
With that, Viktor lifts Jayce up and begins to move him up and down, bouncing him on his thick girth. The long shaft slid in easily, stretching him perfectly. Viktor stills for a moment, buried to the hilt, and a hand drifts to Jayce’s belly, tracing the outline of his cock through the taut skin.
“Feel that?” Viktor asks, his voice low with triumph. “You take me so well.”
Jayce could feel it—every inch of Viktor inside him, every pulse and throb, his body yielding and reshaping itself to accommodate his captor. It felt impossibly, undeniably good. The thought of staying like this, impaled and utterly claimed, sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through him.
“It’s okay, Jayce. I’ve got you. Just let go.”
There’s no fighting it, the almost comforting command tingles his brain and sends sharp sparks to his core. His eyes roll back, arching into Viktor’s chest, and shakes apart. He feels the wave cresting and he rocks back into Viktor’s chest, and he comes with a moan.
“Viktor!”
As he rides out the residual waves of his orgasm, Viktor hooks a thumb into his mouth, forcing his clenched teeth apart. Something in the back of his sex-addled brain tells him to snap his mouth shut, but Viktor’s hand is quicker. Viktor wedges his finger deeper, cracks Jayce’s jaw open with the aid of two more fingers and runs the pad of his thumb over his tongue.
“Vi-Viktor, please, mmph…”
Jayce mumbles incoherently around Viktor’s hand. His teeth feel like they’re rattling loose inside his head, brain melting into mush and leaking out of his ears to join the tears streaming down his cheeks as Viktor continues to fuck him at the same fevered but measured pace. Jayce whimpers as overstimulation sears through him and makes his nerves burn.
He feels Viktor’s amusement as he is manhandled onto the council table before him, cock still buried in him to the hilt. A hand snakes under the back of his thigh and Jayce’s gasp cuts off, sweaty knees pinned up against his chest as Viktor bears down on him with the aid of gravity. The new angle nails his dick against Jayce’s prostate every other thrust and the stimulation borderlines too much all too soon. Jayce’s still mostly soft, leaking profusely and swinging loose against his trembling belly.
“Jayce, you said it yourself. Your place was here, with me. We could have everything we ever wanted.”
Viktor’s pace becomes maddeningly gentle, his hips grinding deep with purposeful rolls. His lips find Jayce’s shoulders, soft and unhurried, scattering kisses like whispers of memory—painfully reminiscent of the quiet intimacy they shared in their lab days, the connection of two minds and bodies in perfect harmony. As if to confirm the thought, Viktor grasps Jayce’s chin, turning his face just enough to claim his lips in a kiss.
It’s a slow, feverish kiss, one that steals Jayce’s breath and leaves his chest heaving, as if the air between them has grown too thick to draw. Viktor’s fingers trace the line of his beard with a reverence that sends shivers racing down his spine, tilting his chin just enough to deepen the kiss and lock them in a moment that feels eternal. Every movement is unhurried, almost painstaking in its thoroughness—each thrust, every caress, a testament to Viktor’s devotion. He leaves nothing untouched, no corner of Jayce’s mouth unexplored, no inch of his body left wanting. It’s more than passion; it’s a claiming, a vow spoken in silence, etched into every gentle touch.
When Viktor finally pulls away, Jayce’s gaze falls to his lower abdomen, where the sinister pattern begins to bloom like a dark, living sigil. The intricate lines pulse faintly, as if alive, glowing brighter with every deep thrust. It’s not just the strange light that unsettles him—it’s the creeping haze that seeps into his mind, thickening with every passing moment. His thoughts grow sluggish, like trying to grasp smoke, his resolve slipping through his fingers as his will dissolves into a hazy, aching fog. Yet even as his mind clouds, his body responds instinctively, tethered to the steady rhythm Viktor commands with an almost otherworldly intensity.
“Look at you,” Viktor murmurs, his voice a low purr. “Trembling like leaf in the wind. You need more, don’t you?”
Jayce tries to answer, but Viktor leans down to kiss him again, one hand cradling the spot between his shoulder blades and the other rubbing circles over his nipple. His dick strikes Jayce’s prostate head-on and he seizes up again, trying and failing to close his legs.
It’s so much all at once.
Jayce shouts out loud, world whitening out for a few excruciating seconds as his whole body shakes through an another painful climax. His eyes roll back and he pants harshly as wave after wave rolls over him. His body is shuddering harshly, and he can barely get enough air into his lungs. But still, that massive cock fucks into his puffy, throbbing hole, obscene squelches accompanying every thrust. He starts to whimper Viktor’s name in a litany of pleas for mercy, but the other man only continues to fuck him as he whispers into his ear.
“Come on, Jayce, join me.”
Jayce shakes his head weakly and sobs out.
“I can’t…I can’t. I promised…”
Viktor's hips moves in a languid circle, grinding against the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside Jayce, and the effect is devastating. A broken mewl escapes Jayce’s lips, his composure unraveling as tears stream freely down his face, soaking into Viktor’s shoulder. The salt of his tears mix with the faint musk of Viktor’s skin, his sobs hitching in his throat as his nose begins to run, smearing into Viktor’s neck. He was a wreck—utterly undone, a trembling mess of raw emotion and physical overwhelm.
“Come, Jayce.”
The command hits him like a blow to the head. Jayce curls in on himself, spasming uncontrollably all over. It goes on forever. His dick’s drooling out a continuous drip of clear liquid. Somewhere in the back of his sex-addled brain, there’s a growing worry he’s lost control of his bladder. Jayce squeezes his knees shut miserably and shoves his face into the marble table. Viktor’s palm against the back of Jayce’s thigh sets off another wave of heated pleasure. There’s another little residual peak and Jayce screws his eyes shut as he shudders helplessly through it.
Jayce’s vision explodes into a blinding white haze of pleasure, and he barely registers Viktor’s hand pressing firmly against his forehead, its touch cool and commanding, until he feels the distinct, invasive pull deep within his mind. Vulnerable and utterly laid bare, Jayce has nothing left to shield himself, no defenses to muster. He is wide open, his thoughts pliant and malleable under Viktor’s influence.
It is over before Jayce even realises it has begun. Viktor’s will envelops his own like a dark tide—swift and absolute—subduing every shred of resistance and weaving his consciousness into the fabric of Viktor’s design. The sensation is dizzying, almost intoxicating, as if his very identity is being unraveled and re-stitched to suit Viktor’s vision of perfection.
“There you finally are. Perfect for me.” Viktor rejoices. “Now let’s see how well you obey. On your knees. Clean the mess you’ve made.”
Docilely, Jayce slides off Viktor’s cock and does just as he’s told, driven by an irresistible compulsion to please. He drops to his knees without hesitation, the cold, unforgiving ground biting against his skin. Bowing his head, he takes Viktor into his mouth, his tongue tracing slow, reverent strokes to lap away the bitter mix of pre-cum and slick that clung to his partner.
Viktor hums, a sound of approval that resonates in Jayce’s ears, igniting a flicker of warmth in his chest. A satisfied smile curls across Viktor’s lips as he watched, one hand threading into Jayce’s damp hair, guiding him without force, but with unmistakable authority. The moment was quiet save for the soft, wet sounds of Jayce’s work and the faint tremor of Viktor’s breath—a silence filled with power, submission, and the fulfilment of Viktor’s design.
—
“Jayce,” Viktor chides, amused. "I told you to sit still, have I not?”
Jayce whimpers, but stops writhing his naked hips around Viktor’s dick. Viktor loves it when Jayce is naked, spread out and impaled on his length. Jayce loves whatever Viktor loves. They are both sitting in the head chair of the council chamber table, the other seats filled with Viktor’s mechanical constructs.
Jayce sits naked, his body flush against Viktor’s, the firm press of Viktor’s cock inside him grounding him in a way that feels both intimate and possessive. His back is rested against Viktor’s chest, rising and falling in time with the steady rhythm of his partner’s breaths. Around them, the dim hum of machinery and the distant echoes of Viktor’s mechanical creations fill the room, but Jayce pays them no heed.
Viktor’s sharp, calculating voice reverberates around the room, dissecting the latest resistance from the human battalions still clinging desperately to their defiance. To Jayce, the words feel like nothing more than white noise, their meaning drowned out by the soothing cadence of Viktor’s tone and the steady warmth of his presence. Strategy and rebellion are faraway concepts, pale and insignificant compared to the solid reality of Viktor beneath him.
“Poor thing,” Viktor murmurs, his voice dipping into something almost playful, though laced with a possessive edge. “Forced to engage in politics, to worry your pretty little head over games of power, when truly, you were meant to warm my cock all along. Doesn’t it feel good, to finally be used for your true purpose?”
Jayce shivers at the words, a low purr rising in his throat as he leans back more heavily against Viktor’s chest. A wave of contentment washes over him, drowning out the rest of the world. He rubs his cheek against Viktor’s neck, his breath hitching as he catches the faint, familiar scent of metal and something uniquely Viktor. It wraps around him like a cocoon, a reminder of his place—here, with Viktor, as partners.
Viktor’s hand drifts up to tangle in Jayce’s hair, his long fingers stroking with a deliberate gentleness that sends another purr vibrating through Jayce’s chest, louder this time. Viktor hums approvingly, his attention still on the missives in his other hand, but his touch does not falter. It was a casual act of ownership, yet it spoke volumes, grounding Jayce further in the quiet, intimate moment they shared.
There is nowhere else Jayce would rather be. No battlefield, no grand cause, no distant dream could ever compare to the simple, profound joy of being here, in Viktor’s arms, lost in the rhythm of his touch and the quiet reassurance of his voice.