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“Fuck, Viktor. Your perfect mouth.”
Viktor’s jaw is stretched to its limits. The stretch aches deeply, but his bruised, puffy lips still slide rhythmically up and down the length of Jayce’s thick cock, almost too large for him to bear. One hand braces the base while the other clings to the tough flesh of Jayce’s chest for some form of support as he persistently bobs his head.
Saliva drips freely and messily from Viktor’s mouth, oozing over Jayce’s cock and leaving a slick puddle around his navel. Jayce’s heavy breaths flow forth from the very bottom of his lungs, wafting into Viktor’s ears and through his bones like a bass-thumping music.
He almost enjoys this more than being fucked. The sounds that Jayce makes when Viktor sucks him off are unlike any other. The dreamlike vision of Jayce’s cords of muscle going taut and tight for him, the noble feeling of servicing, the knowledge that his partner is the sole recipient of all the pleasure in the world that Viktor can give – it makes Viktor feel like a trunk full of jewels.
Jayce’s fingers thread through the sweat-wavy locks of Viktor’s hair from the ends straight up to the roots, fisting and tugging him further along his length with each stroke. Something about Jayce’s grip is different tonight, near painful, like the pads of his fingers are threatening to bore right through Viktor’s skull. He tries to steel himself as his head is rocked from both sides and the tip of Jayce’s cock kisses the back of his throat, but he can’t fight reflex as he gags lightly at the intrusion.
“God, Vik,” Jayce drawls. “I love the sound of you choking on me. You make me feel – feel like God.”
Viktor squeaks, the only response he can muster with a mouthful of cock. A thrilling chill courses from his scalp down to the tips of his toes when Jayce yanks Viktor’s head back with a wet pop.
He feels empty. His tongue laps uselessly at the hot air without Jayce’s cock to fill it.
“Beautiful. Suck. Make it dirty,” Jayce commands, worming the tip of his finger between Viktor’s parted, purpled lips.
He obeys. He merely has to think of the slightly salty taste of Jayce, the slide of his foreskin against his tongue, the stream of precum filling his cheeks for spit to pour forth and coat Jayce’s finger as he probes Viktor’s mouth.
Jayce swiftly removes his finger.
Pop.
“Jayce,” Viktor begs. His mouth screams to be filled again.
“Go.”
Viktor dives back in, head bobbing and weaving as he sucks Jayce for his very life. His nose brushes coarse curls and the flat of his tongue wraps around Jayce’s cock like a heavy blanket.
Viktor feels Jayce’s palm press on his back and glide over the divots in his skin and the metal rivets in his spine. The pressure is soothing after a long day constrained by his brace, and he relaxes into a steady rhythm – the throb in his jaw recedes as the ache in his own cock grows.
He gasps and rears back when Jayce’s warm, wet finger tickles against the rim of his hole.
Pop.
“Jayce!”
Jayce chuckles, low and rumbling. There’s a heady haze cast over his features, an aura that renders Viktor even more naked and vulnerable under his gaze. Jayce is here yet nowhere, present yet somewhere else entirely.
Viktor doesn’t know where this is going, but he is more than content to follow.
“Look me in the eye and give me a show,” Jayce says as he breaches Viktor’s tight ring of muscle.
Viktor startles, sucks in a sharp hiss of air, but he can’t help but groan at the familiar feeling: Jayce filling him with his rough fingers, his fingerprints branding his walls, only a bare mixture of saliva and precum to ease the passage.
Moisture collects at the corners of Viktor’s eyes as he sinks into pure submission, the shadow of a fat cock over his face and the salacious burn of barely-lubed hands languidly pumping in his ass. He blinks the wetness away and holds eye contact as the tip of his tongue connects with the sensitive bit of skin on the underside of Jayce’s cockhead – he knows this will please Jayce; it always does.
Jayce’s head rolls back onto the pillow as a long moan trickles from his throat. The hints of a mischievous grin tug at his mouth as he looks down at Viktor through his dark lashes, his gears visibly cranking.
“Ride me.”
Viktor’s tongue ceases in its path along a thick vein. He’s not one to refuse Jayce – he’s not sure he can – but he fears falling short of expectations, no matter how many years Jayce has spent assuring him that mere expectations can’t hope to touch the experience that is Viktor.
“Ride me, hon.” Jayce slides his finger out of Vikor and cups his gaunt cheek affectionately. “I’ll help.”
Viktor’s anxiety dissipates. He can’t help but smile back.
He slides away from his comfortable sprawl over Jayce’s abdomen, pushing himself up on his arms and carefully shifting his knees up to crawl over his partner’s outstretched legs. Viktor’s neglected cock bounces cruelly against his thighs as he wrangles himself into position and gingerly avoids putting too much weight on his right leg. Jayce trails his fingers reassuringly over the back of Viktor’s knee, sending a soft shiver through his nerves that dulls the ever-present ache in his joints.
“I almost want to take a picture of you,” Jayce says as Viktor successfully straddles him, his cock slotting tantalizingly into the cleft of his ass.
“I would let you.”
“No.” Jayce braces his hands on either side of Viktor’s ribcage, running his hands appreciatively over the jut of each bone before clasping them around the thinnest part of his waist. “My eyes only.”
“You can…” Viktor chews his lip. He’s never been particularly confident in his dirty talk.
“Hm?”
Magma percolates beneath the papery skin of Viktor’s face and he stares conspicuously at Jayce’s shoulder, but he forces the words from his mouth.
“You… eh… whenever you want. You can look whenever you want. Just… just tell me.”
Jayce huffs a laugh and gives Viktor’s waist a squeeze.
Viktor furrows his brow. “What?”
“You’re perfect. Don’t ever change. I won’t have it.”
Viktor’s heart skips a beat and thumps against his sternum. Jayce says things like that sometimes – alludes to a future that Viktor had once quietly abandoned the idea of.
Logically, it should be a matter of course. Jayce and Viktor have been inseparable since their fated meeting, their years-long, boundary-pushing partnership giving way to a fiery, feverish romance as easily and unquestionably as the moon pulling the tides. They don’t celebrate an anniversary; neither one of them could pinpoint the exact moment their bond definitionally shifted from platonic to passionate. Perhaps Viktor’s most syrupy thought is that it was never merely friendship and truly had been ordained long before their earthly acquaintance.
So they’re irreversibly enjoined, irrevocably intertwined, unequivocally in love. It’s been the better part of a decade. Most couples would eventually discuss… something. Formalities. Rituals. Sacraments. Viktor can’t even bring himself to put the damn word to it, but declarations like ever and always coming from Jayce’s mouth make his tongue itch and his wildest youthful daydreams bubble back up to the forefront of his gray matter.
Viktor’s hips jolt at an abrupt pinch to his ass.
“Stay here with me, baby,” Jayce teases. “I want another show.”
Viktor swallows the hard lump in his throat, and the thoughts are banished to the back room once more.
Wordlessly, Jayce tightens his grip on Viktor’s waist and presses his thumbs into the milky flesh. Viktor responds reflexively to the silent command, his trembling legs pushing him upward with all the little strength his traitorous body can muster.
Suddenly, the weight lifts. The vise locked around Viktor’s waist hoists him to hover comfortably above Jayce’s erect cock. Viktor inhales a stuttering breath as he floats above his undoing.
Jayce bucks his hips to swipe the head of his cock between Viktor’s cheeks before it slaps heavily against his stomach. Glistening fluid leaks plentifully from the slit and leaves a dribbling stream over his skin.
“Look what you did to me. You’ve made me miserably fucking hard.”
Another buck, sending Viktor reeling. Jayce holds him effortlessly in place.
“Take responsibility.”
The order sends a burning rush of blood to Viktor’s twitching hole as it yearns for fulfillment. He swallows hard again, and proceeds to reach down between his thighs to take hold of Jayce’s thick cock and guide it into place.
“Let go.”
Viktor allows his leg muscles to relax fully. He bites the inside of his cheek as he casts his eyes downward to watch himself descend, guided by Jayce’s uncompromising hold.
He hears his strained cry before he registers the burn in his throat. The stretch is nothing like Jayce’s fingers, never anything like Jayce’s fingers, yet he’s always stricken like it's the first time. He groans and moans and chokes out sobs as he’s steadily speared from below, his entrance lubricated by his own spit and the plentiful slick from Jayce’s weeping cock.
“Take it,” Jayce hisses. “Look at me. Baby, I know you can take the whole thing.”
Viktor’s whimpers and stammering murmurs of oh and oh God and too big run freely from his tongue as he tilts his chin up to meet Jayce’s eyes. His hazel shines golden in the low light of the bedside lamp, unyielding and afire with determination. Something is surely different about Jayce’s lust this evening, insatiable and fuck-drunk on Viktor’s ambrosia. It makes Viktor feel tiny and unguarded, yet secure and boundless with confidence as his rim finally forms a tight seal around the base of Jayce’s length, completely seated and stuffed.
“Good. Fuck, so good,” Viktor thinks he hears Jayce say. Heat and honey crash like calamitous ocean waves through his veins and into every cell of his body. Blood pulses in his ears and the hot, wet air dizzies his head as he adjusts to the intrusion, Jayce’s twitching cock caressing Viktor’s most sensitive spot.
Jayce catches him off guard in his reverie and tugs him forward by the wrists to lay prone against his chest, their breaths intermingling. His hands firmly grasp Viktor’s cheeks and spread them apart before giving them a light slap, just enough to sting and send a spark up Viktor’s spine.
“Slowly, now,” Jayce says, gently prodding him forward to rock in a smooth, leisurely cadence, their lips briefly meeting with each push.
Jayce’s relaxed pumping back and forth, in and out sends pleasurable echoes rippling through Viktor’s muscles, vaporizing any vestiges of pain and enveloping his nerves in perfect warmth. Viktor thinks he would give a million lives to exist in this limbo forever with Jayce filling him, completing him, perfecting him.
Jayce shifts and plants his lips on the tender flesh where Viktor’s neck and shoulder join, his tongue pressing flush against the skin as he sucks a delicious bruise from beneath.
Pop.
Viktor’s own cock cries for solace as it’s jostled between their navels, touched but decidedly growing unsatisfied.
“Jayce…”
“Viktor.”
“I… I want…”
“Tell me what you want,” Jayce says, punctuating his instruction with a robust thrust of his hips.
“Ah – ah – I want…” Viktor breathes. “More. I need more, Jayce,” he mewls, his voice small.
“I’ll fuck you however you want.”
“I want to – to be touched,” Viktor asks. “And… harder…”
Viktor can feel Jayce’s grin curling on his neck before he plants his hands on his shoulders and pushes him to sit up straight again. His nipples feel pert and sensitive from friction and his cock has visibly darkened and engorged with angry blood. His legs are jelly, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to manage the movement to foment the release his cock craves.
Jayce, as ever, is perfectly attuned. He takes hold of Viktor’s hips and rolls them in a gyrating motion that pushes Jayce’s cock from balls-deep to deeper, as if that were remotely possible – but Jayce has a knack for snatching reality from mere dreams.
Viktor is stunned by the simplicity of the solution; he can hardly believe it didn’t occur to him. He experimentally replicates the motion on his own, finding it relatively painless for his leg and deliciously stimulating to his prostate.
“That’s it. Touch yourself for me. My fucking show is finally on.”
Viktor hadn’t fully realized his shaking hands had lifted themselves to tweak and roll his own nipples as he settled into a comfortable rhythm. He’s emboldened by the electric sensations bolting from his nipples to collide with the momentous pleasure spreading up from his ass, and he allows his jaw to hang slack and his moans to escape freely as he swivels his hips around Jayce’s cock.
“That’s it. Fuck, Viktor, you’re a dream, milking my cock like this.”
Viktor’s pace quickens, cracking the trapped air in his hips.
Pop.
The fire in Jayce’s eyes intensifies as he moves in tandem with Viktor, the sweat on his brow glinting dangerously.
“Fucking beautiful. I want to fuck you forever.”
Viktor’s heart pulsates at the sentiment, but it’s quickly tamped down by the bursting pleasure radiating from his core. He can feel Jayce’s sack swelling and tightening with each sweep of his hips, and he moves faster, propelling along his own impending orgasm.
“Want to mark you. Claim you. Paint your insides with my cum, infect you–”
“Come… come inside, Jayce,” Viktor ventures to beg. “I want your–”
Jayce’s eyes are unfocused, intoxicated in pleasure as he barrels ahead. “Keep you impaled on my cock, run you dry, fucking take you, own you, marry you–“
Pop.
Viktor feels as if a vat of hot oil drenches him. His brain cleaves cleanly in two, and his arms fall flaccid at his sides as his hips slow to a stop.
“Fuck, Viktor, I’m so close,” Jayce grunts, widening his eyes to snap to Viktor’s.
Viktor stares back dumbly without a coherent thought to spare.
“What’s–”
“Marry me?”
Jayce’s grimace melts away. His eyelids twitch. His lips part as recognition fans out over his face.
“You want to marry me?” Viktor whispers.
There’s an excruciating pause as a great conflagration blazes between their locked eyes.
“I– um– Viktor…” Jayce stutters.
Viktor stares more.
He never pictured this.
Proposals are… spectacles. Performances. Exquisite pageants and parades… for other people. For all his musings about spending his living and dying days with Jayce, this moment, this figment spoken into something tangible, renders him utterly dumbstruck.
But… it’s flawless.
Bare to each other, uninhibited, joined as one.
And it almost feels real.
Viktor holds his gaze with Jayce’s as he inches his hips forward and back one beat.
Jayce stifles a cough. “Viktor?”
“You want that?” Viktor questions, hushed.
“I– shit, Vik–” Jayce chokes back his words as Viktor circles his hips again, faster this time.
“Please, Jayce. Let me hear it… again.”
Jayce swallows. His calculations are apparent as they fly frenziedly behind his eyes before he settles into a calm resolve.
“I wanna marry you,” he declares. “Someday. Now. Yesterday. I want to marry you and fuck you in our bed for the rest of our lives.”
Viktor gasps and moans, the stark words imbuing him with a brilliant, unquenchable light. He picks up the pace, resuming his previous harried gyrating over Jayce’s cock.
Jayce’s eyes darken.
“I’ve been – ugh – thinking about it all night. Making you mine.” He matches Viktor’s rhythm, bucking his hips in time with the beat. “I want you to belong with me. I want you to say in front of everyone that you’ll have me – fuck – exactly as I am.”
Viktor throws all caution out the window as a flame ignites in his lower body and he bounces with reckless abandon. He’s never been so hard, and he’s never been so desperate to come.
“Jayce,” he whines.
Jayce reaches up and takes a fistful of Viktor’s hair. The pain is mouthwatering.
“Give you a ring– give you a home– take you to the altar– fuck you on it–“
Jayce blasts Viktor’s prostate with a potent final thrust, and Viktor is done for. Sheer white blinds him, strobing lights of colors without names flashing around the edges of his vision. The most explosive orgasm of his life curls his toes and steals his breath as cum shoots from his cock like a fountain, splashing into puddles that seep into the crevices of Jayce’s abs.
Jayce yanks at Viktor’s hair, pulling him nose to nose as tears begin to leak from his eyes from the relentless stimulation.
“Make you my pretty little wife–”
Viktor screams.
Jayce grunts hard, bucking his hips up so far it lifts Viktor’s knees from the bed. Viktor can feel his cock jump and erupt inside him, a deluge of cum flooding through every recess of his insides, well and truly filling him up until it flows like a river out of his plugged hole.
Viktor collapses on top of Jayce, his face buried in the crook of his neck as he comes down from the astronomical high. They pant, and pant, and pant until it feels as if all air has been sucked from the room, the weight of their encounter hanging above them like a boulder.
This is where they would cuddle. Jayce would ghost his fingers reverently over every angle of Viktor’s body, nuzzle his nose into his hair, and whisper to him about all the things he loves about him. Viktor would rest his head on Jayce’s chest, giggle at Jayce’s corny pillow talk, and be lulled to sleep by the reliable rhythm of his heartbeat.
Instead, Viktor stirs, and Jayce simply offers a counterweight as he rolls off of him to stare at the ceiling.
Viktor doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what he can say, if there are any words to capture the sheer enormity of what just transpired between the two. Euphoria has given way to Viktor’s practical sensibilities, and he’s more than aware of Jayce’s tendency to blurt ridiculous, ill thought-out notions when stressed, whether by distress or eustress.
And this isn’t the sort of thing that happens to Viktor. Jayce in the first place is not the sort of thing that happens to Viktor. He’s profoundly grateful for every moment they’ve spent together. He loves Jayce, he wants Jayce, he’d do anything to have Jayce, but his decades of struggle and stubborn solitude sometimes still poison his metaphorical waters.
He sighs. He’ll face the truth, one way or the other.
“Jayce–”
“I’m sorry.”
Viktor’s blood freezes. So this is it.
He allows a moment of strained silence. “Why are you apologizing?” he inquires coolly.
“… I… I let you down.”
Viktor continues to crumble. The truth is the truth, but the truth is a bitch.
“I would prefer we discuss frankly, without platitudes,” Viktor says flatly.
“Sorry.” Viktor hears the ruffle of Jayce running a hand through his hair. “I just… wanted that to go differently.”
Viktor’s brow quirks, and for the first time since they came, he looks at Jayce.
“What do you mean?”
Jayce sighs, looking utterly deflated.
“I wanted it to be better for you. You deserve better. You deserve my best, not some… some fuck.”
Viktor is well and thoroughly confused now.
“I do not follow.”
“Shit, Viktor. I’ve already ruined it. Don’t make me embarrass myself more.”
“Ruined what?”
“My plan! You… the proposal you deserve!” Jayce spits, gesticulating wildly into the air.
Viktor blinks.
“You… did… intend… to propose?”
“What? Of course I did. Do. Of course I do. But not like… not like whatever that was. I was trying to have a whole thing planned out but I went and fucked it all up. Leave it to me to be completely fucking unable to wait.”
Viktor’s jaw drops, words and thoughts failing him.
Jayce rubs his face, as if he would rip it off if he could. “I’m… I’m sorry again. I’m really sorry. I’m an idiot. Don’t… I hope you’re not… offended… Jesus, Jayce…”
“Offended?”
Viktor’s voice is mousy, barely audible above the blood flowing through his ears.
“Yes. Offended. Because it was–”
Jayce flicks his eyes to Viktor, then double-takes.
“Viktor?”
Viktor’s lips flap, but nothing comes out. He realizes he must look ridiculous, with fat, ugly tears welling up in his eyes, like a pathetic little doe.
“How long have you been considering proposing marriage, Jayce?”
“Since I met you.” Jayce squints. “Are you– are you surprised?”
“I simply– I never thought something like this could happen to me.”
Jayce gapes. His eyes fly open.
“Viktor, I love you.”
“Yes.” Viktor clears his throat. “I love you too, Jayce.”
“No, I love you. You. We’ve been together for so long, and I never want to remember what my life was like without you in it. Of course I want to marry you. I dreamed of proposing to you – to someone even close to being like you – since I was a little kid. I had visions of you before we ever met and I didn’t even know they were you.”
“... Jayce–”
“I mean it. You have to know that I mean it. I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t mean it.”
“No, Jayce. I know you mean it. I believe you. I could… I could never doubt you, truly. Some parts of me still… still…”
Jayce braces a hand on Viktor’s shoulder and gives him a shake. His gaze is desperate, piercing right through to the bottom of Viktor’s gut.
“I want you. I want you. I’ll do anything to prove it. I’ll marry you. I’ll run away with you, leave it all behind. Whatever you ask for. Tell me what you need to make it feel real.”
Viktor melts, a smile tugging obstinately at his mouth, and he can’t help but release the laugh trapped in his throat.
“Viktor.”
More giggles. Viktor feels sunlight and hears birdsong that doesn’t exist.
“Humor me, Jayce,” he manages. “Say more.”
“Well, shit. Okay. I can talk for days about how much I love you and it won’t be enough. But I can try, I guess. I don’t know. It’s you. It’s all you. Everything I do, I get done so I can get it over with and get back to you. You’re at the bottom of it all. I see a sunset and I think about how it can’t hardly compete with the shine of your eyes. I put on clothes and I think about how I’m that much farther away from you. I take a deep breath and I think about what it feels like to be inside you. I want to be one with you. I want to meld with you. I would fucking eat you if I could.”
Viktor shakes his head. “What?”
“Don’t– whatever. I’m sorry, Viktor. I do regret what happened. I didn’t have my speech prepared, and I don’t have a ring for you in my pocket, and I can’t redo it now, but I am serious, and I do want to marry you – very, very badly. I’m an idiot, and a jerk, but please tell me you will take all of that and… handle it with all the care and grace that you handle everything, the way only you can. You are perfect. I want to marry you. Please tell me you want it too.”
Viktor’s head fills with helium. He knows he would faint if he weren’t laying down, and he still comes close to it.
“Jayce…”
Jayce waits.
“... I want to marry you.”
The corners of Jayce’s mouth twitch. His grip on Viktor’s shoulder loosens a hair.
“I want to be yours. All I have ever wanted was to be yours. I want your name. I want Ximena to be my mother. I want–”
Jayce doesn’t let him complete the thought. His mouth meets Viktor’s, and their lips finish their sentences. They kiss for a long while, tongues dancing until they’re both left gasping for air.
When they part, Viktor sees the honesty of the generous dusting of red spread out over Jayce’s features and the naked defenselessness in his eyes, and he comes to realize he’s been very stupid.
“What are you giggling about?”
Viktor sniffs. “Nothing. Everything.” He lifts his arm away from his body. Without any more prompting, Jayce takes gentle hold of his hip and slots him into place against his chest. Viktor sinks into his warmth, suddenly fucking exhausted.
“What have you imagined about our wedding?” he says dreamily.
Jayce scratches his chin. “Small wedding. Close friends and family. Small venue. Maybe a historic building or a museum. I’d pamper you, but I know how you feel about theatrics. Spring. Your favorite season. Renewal. New life. Evening, when the fireflies come out. My mother would cater. She’d be furious otherwise. No wedding party. Just us. Just us and God up there, if he exists.”
Viktor traces a finger over the lines of Jayce’s chin. There’s a healthy stubble growing, just how he likes it.
“You really have thought about this.”
“Plagues me.”
Viktor chuckles, loose and content.
“You…”
Viktor stirs. “Hm?”
“You really want my name?”
“I have no attachment to mine. I would be proud to take yours.” Viktor’s finger stills. “Provided you are alright with it.”
“Shit. You having my brand? Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Viktor's laugh is rich.
“You want me to be your pretty little wife.”
Viktor can feel the heat of Jayce’s blush rushing to his neck.
“That was just… a figure of speech. Husband. Husband.”
“Pay it no mind, Jayce.”
Jayce huffs and shifts in his place, but he says nothing.
“Not how I imagined you popping the question, Talis.”
“No. Not how I imagined it either.”
“It occurs to me that we can never tell the story of our engagement.”
Jayce does laugh at that.
“No. We can’t. We’ll have to make something up. Stargazing. A romantic gondola ride.”
“Hm,” Viktor acknowledges, edging toward slumber with each passing minute.
“In the lab.”
“Hm.”
“Picnic in a meadow.”
“Hm…”
“Well, maybe I can tell Cait.”
“Absolutely not.”