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Chapter Text

There was an obnoxious number of roses.

That much, Viktor could gather. He’d heard florid descriptions and romanticized recountings of special days like this one. Like I’m floating on air, was a popular report. Viktor could more or less agree to that sort of description, with the stark difference being that Viktor felt like the ground beneath his feet suddenly opened up in a monstrous fissure, leaving him feeling weightless in the worst way possible, and clinging to his crutch for dear life.

There were too many people, their faces, their voices, melding into one unpleasant swirl of nauseating anxiety, bubbling at the pit of his stomach and making bile rise to his throat. The lights were too bright and the perfumes of flowers and nobleblood guests made his nose twitch and his lungs wheeze for breath. 

He could feel eyes upon him, his pale and lanky form, the pallor on his face, the uneasiness in his eyes, and the limp in his step. 

An organ began playing a crooked tune, and Viktor was compelled—coerced to move forward down the harrowing aisle, the white of the carpet before him dotted with bleeding petals for Viktor to follow like breadcrumbs.

Treulich geführt ziehet dahin,

wo euch der Segen der Liebe bewahr'!

Jayce seemed oblivious to it all, making nice and watching with a Golden Boy smile as Viktor staggered towards him. He was handsome as ever, the dark of his suit contrasting nicely with the light in his eyes.

Siegreicher Mut, Minnegewinn

eint euch in Treue zum seligsten Paar! 

Maybe they’ll make another mug with his face on it. Or plaster it on another airship.

The path before him stretched and stretched, near-endlessly as Viktor lumbered along, drawing stares and hushed conversations around him. His vision began to blur and his legs began to wobble.

Streiter der Tugend, schreite voran!

Zierde der Jugend, schreite voran!

No, not yet—

Not again. Viktor felt sweat bead at his brow as every step forward drained his energy, his focus, the weight of the eyes upon him dragging him from that maw, down deeper into the belly of the earth, from uneasy gliding to encumbered trudging with heavy breaths and leadened feet.

Rauschen des Festes seid nun entronnen,

Wonne des Herzens sei euch gewonnen!

The organ continued in a weary loop, the whispers growing harsher and though Viktor could hardly see him from the distance, he was sure Jayce was frowning, impatient, and starting to grow annoyed.

Duftender Raum, zur Liebe geschmückt,

“You made it.”

He sounded—relieved. And not relieved in the way that Jayce was glad he was here.

nehm' euch nun auf, dem Glanze entrückt!

“Y-yes, of course.”

Relieved in that Jayce had been expecting a disaster. Had expected Viktor to make a scene. Had expected Viktor to sour this special day. 

Treulich geführt ziehet nun ein,

Their Special Day.

But his eyes warmed briefly as he guided Viktor forward with a steadying hand to his back, a practiced motion after years in each other’s company, years in each other’s amity and affection.

wo euch der Segen der Liebe bewahr'!

Viktor turned to face Jayce, finding solace in his familiarity, trying to ignore the eyes tracking his every movement, shrinking from their gaze, and instead trying to focus in on Jayce’s words. They’d stopped moving as Jayce took his hand, but Viktor felt as though he were still in motion, his body swaying, his vision blurring, a ringing in his ears humming out of tune from the procession. 

Siegreicher Mut, Minne so rein

A sudden tightness in his chest seized him as his breathing began to shallow, his throat tightening, and the smallest parts of his airway crumpling on the brink of collapse as he panicked. 

No,

Don’t let him see—

eint euch in Treue zum seligsten Paar!

In the midst of this very important occasion, Viktor fell victim to yet another one of his coughing spells, feeling the burnings of humiliation as the hall fell silent to the rude bursts of blaring interruptions of a dying man.

Viktor had the decency to cover his mouth at the very least. He looked up at Jayce apologetically, trying to encourage him to continue whatever it was that he was saying.

But Jayce…

Looked upon him in horror,

In disgust.

In shame, Viktor looked down,

Finding a vibrant stain of red on his hand.

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

Viktor awoke, his entire body tensing uncomfortably, despite the firm mattress cradling his aching form. Regaining his sight, he’d uselessly realized it was dark—too dark to really make out anything in this space. Regaining his movement, he realized he couldn’t actually get very far, most likely due to the firmer, bulkier presence pressed up to his side, and the tree-trunk of an arm thrown over his chest.

No wonder I couldn’t breathe.

Not that Viktor wasn’t already lacking in that department.

Jayce slumbered next to him, seemingly without a care in the world, his offensive snores almost clattering Viktor’s frail bones.

(It wasn’t actually as unpleasant as Viktor mused.)

With sleep-laden eyes, and slumber-lulled thoughts, Viktor attempted to wriggle out of Jayce’s grasp but, alas: his efforts proved fruitless against a solid wall of muscle that was hellbent on holding Viktor in place.

It was quiet, otherwise. Dawn still a while away from gracing the dark of dusk and in its gloom and shadows, Viktor found the first few inklings of coherence he could string together to form a proper thought as the events prior finally laid together in neat little pieces that Viktor’s inquisitive mind could examine, process, ruminate, and postulate upon:

What the hell.

Perhaps the first impression left room for a more eloquent response to the prior events. However, it could not be understated about how utterly confounding and confusing the events that lead him here, here—in Jayce Talis’s bed, bearing his mating mark—were. 

It hadn’t hit all at once, sending Viktor reeling and dizzied, screaming up at what must be the ceiling of Jayce’s room. Instead, it festered in quiet agony as slivers of recollections, slotting together in glass-sharp pieces that sliced through Viktor’s thoughts.

The Hunt.

The chase.

The bite.

The bond. 

He hesitantly reached a hand to his neck, wincing at the tenderness of the flesh there. 

Bruises. 

One moment, Jayce had dragged him through the wilderness in what Viktor initially believed to be a callous trial of dragging his best friend to meet the love of his life, to hypothesizing that Jayce only brought him to the event to repel interested parties looking to entice the Golden Boy of Piltover to their nests and/or dens,

Then the next moment—

Time froze, and with it, Viktor’s heart.

Jayce soothed the harsh bite with a swipe of his tongue. “Finally…Viktor, finally. ”

Viktor suppressed a violent shudder. 

He turned towards Jayce, his vision adjusting to the dimness. The man who claimed him seemed so far away from the man slumbering by his side at this moment. Gentle features, unfairly handsome by any standards. The Jayce Viktor encountered at The Hunt was entirely alien from his partner: the hopeless, hapless thing that the Councilors tossed aside, the man who would have left his mother with nothing more than a note and a rune, who Viktor had found ready to end it all; the Man of Progress Jayce built himself to be through trials, successes, popularity, and grant funding; and beneath all that, 

The man Viktor silently, devastatingly fell in love with.

So how did they get here? Nothing seemed out of normal between them prior to that, despite the abnormal circumstances.

Viktor understood that the anomalous behavior began when Viktor took that hike up the ridge while Jayce was sleeping. Jayce had awoken, terrified some unfortunate disaster had befallen Viktor and—

Why are you hiding from me, Viki?

Viktor startled, almost jumping out of his skin at the memory.

The memory of his emotions came flooding back, filling in the blank spaces of trivial truths. Jayce had torn their camp apart looking for him. Found him hidden among the trees in the mountains and hunted him. Chased him down and scented him out. Uprooted Viktor from his hiding space and punctuated the end of their journey with two dots, barely an inch apart, to the soft, vulnerable flesh of Viktor’s neck.

None of it made sense.

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps it was a brief psychotic break.”

“You know, it’s one thing that I can hear you thinking.” Viktor stiffened as Jayce mumbled sleepily into the sharp curve of his shoulder. The grip around him tightened and it took everything in Viktor not to let out a squeak like some dog’s chewtoy. “It’s another thing when you start talking out loud.”

“A-ah… you’re awake…” Viktor nervously started, and naturally, it just occurred to him that they were both—oh, oh, Viktor wasn’t wearing his shirt and neither was Jayce and Viktor was now doing his best to ignore the very real possibility that he may be naked beneath the covers. 

That he may be naked in Jayce’s bed. Who he’s right next to. 

Viktor pushed against Jayce’s arm, attempting to wrench himself free. “Good! Awake is good! Jayce, we need to—”

“Mhm…barely.” He emphasized the sentiment with a yawn. “Go back to sleep, Viki.”

“What? Right now? But we—” It was almost insulting how effortlessly Jayce pulled Viktor flush against him, hauling him to rest atop his chest.

Jayce had no right to look so endlessly fond, and so endearingly drowsy as he leaned in overtaking Viktor’s personal space, eyelashes fluttering closed and subsequently causing Viktor’s breath to catch, his heart stuttering in a devastating pause—

To press his forehead against Viktor’s.

“I know you’re excited, but The Hunt took a lot out of you.”

And who’s fault was that?

“It’s still early. Besides.” Jayce flashed another winsome smile. One that never failed to make Viktor’s pathetic heart beat wildly against his frail chest wall. “We’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us.”

Viktor felt a pit rip open where his stomach should be. Or maybe higher, right beneath his ribs, where his heart sank.

“…right.” 

And suddenly, Viktor had a whole world of problems ahead of him. 

Viktor, in fact, did not go back to sleep. He laid there, head on Jayce’s muscled chest and daring not to move, not until the sun poured its light, spilling across the walls and floor while hypotheses ran through Viktor’s head. At some point, Jayce slowly roused from slumber, planting a sleepy kiss on Viktor's cheek. 

At some point, Jayce had gotten up to get dressed while Viktor sat up, participating in the one-and-a-half-sided conversation Jayce was having with him by humming at appropriate times while Viktor sifted through conspiracies and conjectures.

The odds of having been plucked from the top of that ridge and deposited to another, near- identical universe where Viktor was bonded to Jayce Talis were a teeny-atom-tiny amount,

But they were not zero.

A more probable possibility (though a much grimmer one in comparison) involved his illness: perhaps his body, at war with itself, had finally targeted what Viktor had always dreaded it would. In attacking his mind, the sickness had manifested itself into delusions, apropos to a neurologically compromised patient mistaking his wife for a hat. 

Except, it was Viktor, mistaking his partner for his…well. Partner. Partner in the other, more, domestic, romantic sense. But! Clearly, there would be no logical explanation for the events unfolding right before Viktor’s eyes:

The smirk Viktor was met with informed Viktor he’d been caught ogling. Such a shame, there went the private delight of watching those back muscles. “You just gonna stare all morning?” And as Jayce turned around, chest bare as he slowly buttoned his shirt, Viktor had an inkling that Jayce wasn’t against it.

Viktor, in all his intellect, only had this to say for himself: “Just what is your mother feeding you?”

Jayce barked out a laugh.

“You’ll find out soon enough! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Fantastic, does breakfast come with a change of clothes?” Viktor wrapped the blanket tightly around his form. He’d been relieved to find that he wasn’t completely naked, but his exposed state left him vulnerable all the same.

“Of course!” Jayce seemed to brighten at the request.

To Viktor’s bewilderment, Jayce walked towards a sizable wardrobe and pulled the doors open, revealing a plethora of shirts, bottoms, jackets, coats, and the like. Jayce combed through a few articles, perhaps locating where Jayce had stored the clothes Viktor wore during The Hunt.

Jayce brought him a lovely ensemble of scarlet, gold, and white. Unsurprising, Viktor mused. But more surprisingly: “These…aren’t my clothes, Jayce.”

“They are! I, uhm…” Embarrassment tinted his cheeks as Viktor blinked in surprise. “They’re for you. Custom-tailored!”

Viktor hesitantly tested that claim, and adamantly tried to ignore the way Jayce’s eyes roved over his exposed skin as Viktor shed the blanket to dress himself. Jayce had the kindness and foresight to bring him his back brace, but only with the thinly veiled motive of applying it on Viktor himself. Viktor tried to keep his breathing even as Jayce fastened it in place, longing and anxiety warring against every brush of his fingers on Viktor’s skin.

Red was a rather strong color for the shirt without his usual waistcoat to break up the loud hue, but aside from personal preference, it was of quality material. The even stitching, the soft texture, the gold details and lines, the way the shirt was loose enough to avoid t snagging on the jagged edges of his brace—the design certainly had intention. From the tall collar and shoulders, the material hugged his frail proportions like a luxurious embrace of soft satins with billowy bishop sleeves over his arms. With some effort, Viktor started on the bottoms, the soft trousers wrapping comfortably around his thin waist and thighs, the breathable material allowing him better mobility. All in all, it was a far cry from the stiff, overly-starched uniforms from the Academy and the lab of his day-to-day.

These were easily the most expensive garments Viktor had ever worn.

“Do they fit well?” Jayce took a step back and Viktor had to lower his gaze at the…intensity in his eyes.  

“Yes, perfectly.” He frowned, as a thought struck him: “How did you get my measurements?”

Viktor was subsequently ignored as Jayce knelt before him, his leg brace in his hands. Viktor raised his gaze to meet Jayce’s for a flicker of a second before giving a near-imperceptible nod. 

Viktor remembered the first time Jayce crafted it for him. Viktor’s pain had steadily worsened over their years working together. A part of Viktor always knew he was on borrowed time, though he hadn’t wanted anyone to see it, to notice the steady (and accelerating) deterioration of his condition. A part of that had been his pride: he hadn’t wanted anyone to witness the poor cripple from the Undercity collapse just before their dreams took off.

So Viktor had continually arrived later and later to the lab, eventually culminating to the day Viktor collapsed in pain and fatigue. That was the first time Jayce had all but carried Viktor out of the building to the hospital. 

Hextech was still in its infancy then, and the recommended treatment to at least ameliorate some of the effects proved to be…costly. Most immediately, his right leg required femoral re-positioning and joint supports, on top of an effective pain regimen. 

That night, Jayce had asked to take some measurements of Viktor’s leg. All technical precision and steadfast concentration that did nothing to alleviate the way Viktor’s heart jumped at every lingering touch. A week later, Jayce appeared, a brace in Talis House colors at Viktor’s door, begging him to give it a chance, begging him not to turn Jayce away as he did in the past with every attempt to break down Viktor’s walls and help him at his most vulnerable.

Viktor had his heart in his throat then too, the gentle touch and hard focus in Jayce’s eyes as he fastened the straps, maneuvering Viktor’s leg with care, with a delicate and reverent careful touch. 

Some time prior to this, Viktor fooled himself into believing his affections towards Jayce were fleeting, would come to pass as easily and naturally as seasons. He was faced with the vicious reality, however, that this was unfortunately not a passing fancy. 

Not with the relief and hopeful excitement in Jayce’s eyes after a breathed It fits! as he urged Viktor to walk around. The brace fixing his leg into this new position and offloading the pressure from his knee indeed helped his pain and mobility after initial discomfort, but Viktor could swear Jayce had been more enthused by the improvements than he was.

Jayce gave him that same look back then, too. The one he was giving Viktor at this moment. Something soft, something devastatingly warm and affectionate in the charming smile that reached his eyes in all the ways that made Viktor’s heart ache. The warmth of his forge-fire hands seeped into Viktor’s cold, brittle bones. Jayce placed a kiss on his right knee and the scene before him was enough to ruin Viktor’s life completely. 

“You always did look good in my colors.”

“Jayce, I…”

The rest of that thought was stifled, fizzled out like an ember, leaving nothing but smoke in its wake until Jayce pulled away from his lips. 

“When we make it official, you’ll bear more than just the colors of this House.”

“Finally up, I see!” Ximena greeted her son with a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning, mjjo.” As she turned to Viktor, it suddenly occurred to him that Jayce’s mother was likely aware of the…circumstances that brought him here in the first place. After all…

The shirt didn’t quite cover the bruises all the way, did it?

Ximena, in all her sweetness, took Viktor’s hands in hers as she regarded him with teary fondness. “Viktor, my dear…you look radiant.”

Viktor was sure Ximena was simply being kind. He had a hollowed look about him, a haunted look in his eyes as he dazedly pottered behind Jayce, as if he hadn’t been invited to this very table dozens of times over the years. 

Wearing these clothes, wearing her son’s mark, Viktor never felt as out of place in Jayce’s home than he did at this moment. 

But the circumstances have changed now, haven’t they?

Invariably, he accepted Ximena’s hug, as she always greeted him with warmth and a tenderness only a mother could possess.

Viktor had always regarded Jayce lucky in that regard. “Such kind words when I pale in comparison to your resplendence, Mrs. Talis.”

“Viktor!” She gave a giggle, the corners of her eyes crinkling in affection as she ushered him to sit. “You’ll make me blush!”

“Suck up,” Jayce murmured beneath his breath, tone contrasting with the doting smile he wore.

Viktor shot him a smug look as Ximena turned to plate his food—always too much for Viktor to stomach all at once, but growing up in the Undercity taught him to finish his plate, no matter how devastating the consequences.

“But don’t think I didn’t notice,” Ximena continued, hand on her hips. “I’ve told you time and time again, Viktor, it’s not Mrs. Talis— ”

Time and time again, she chided him for addressing her so formally. An intimacy with the Talis family that Viktor believed was unearned. “My apologies, at least once more—”

Viktor stilled when Ximena brought her hands to cup his face, a beaming pride in her eyes. “Call me mamá.”

This misunderstanding had gone too far.

It was one thing for Jayce to have—quite possibly, if Viktor truly weren’t hallucinating it all—bonded him, it was another thing entirely when Jayce’s own mother was in the belief that they were—

Mates.

The word, even just the thought of it, made lightning strikes bolt down his body (which was quite dangerous for all the metal he was outfitted with). With so little direct answers that Viktor was able to glean from quiet observation, it was only a matter of time before something had to give, before Viktor finally got a peek behind the curtain. And sure, perhaps a portion of it was a smidge of cowardice, telling himself he was merely playing along in the gut-wrenching event that this had all been one massive misunderstanding, or if Viktor was…

If Viktor was being played for a fool. His own heartsick longing causing him to miss the forest for the trees, jumping to conjecture rather than what was obviously right in front of him, what he’d been too oblivious to identify.

He was facing a perfect illusion, tailored to all the dirty little secrets and wishful thinking that Viktor hoarded with disgrace and desperation. 

The banter of family over a meal; hot, plentiful food on the table; Jayce, seated next to him, trying to hold his hand beneath the table, but Viktor had startled so badly he almost broke a glass. 

(Jayce held his hand anyways, thumb stroking the back of his palm while Ximena commented how good it was to see some color on his cheeks.) 

Yet, amid the façade of normalcy, some cracks began to show. The typical exchange between mother and son was a familiar sight from the years Viktor had come in and out the door. But throughout breakfast, there was a tension there, an anxiety between the two, a concern in Ximena’s eyes that fell on him that, for the first time, wasn’t aimed at Viktor’s dangerously low bodyweight.

Her eyes rested,

Just above the collar of his shirt. Blooming lilacs and lavenders behind the red of his throat.

Viktor took the opportunity to retreat to the solarium after he’d been gently but firmly denied the opportunity to help clear away the dishes, and excused himself, not entirely feigning post-meal lethargy. Ximena sweetly informed him that his usual perch in the solarium was open to him at any time, and he gave her a grateful smile.

He wondered if the sweet, motherly Mrs. Talis was berating her son in his absence; possibly questioning his sanity.

Just as Viktor was questioning his own. 

Still, he’d missed the dinners and meals he spent with Ximena. Jayce had been busy for a long time. Every now and then, Jayce would comment on Ximena echoing Viktor’s sentiments, and that same wretched hope would attempt to poke through the cracks of Viktor’s doomed heart. But then, inevitably, Jayce’s attentions would be taken away elsewhere. Viktor learned to live with it. Knew it was the natural progression of things. He hadn’t fought it; he hadn’t the energy to do so these days anyways.

So while he still could, Viktor basked in the soft rays of light in the softest seat of the solarium, picking up a book left on the coffee table in a practiced motion. He hadn’t even noted the title, nor the author. Viktor’s eyes roved over the first line of the first chapter, once, then twice, then a third, over and over again as his mind refused to concentrate, to cooperate, thoughts coming undone and unraveling as the world fell into a dizzying haze.

All in all, it felt like a terrible dream.

Everything Viktor wanted,

But everything felt so wrong.

“Viktor?”

Viktor didn’t even have the energy to startle, a sluggishness weighing him down that could have been mistaken for tranquility. “I’m here, Jayce.” Viktor put the book away, almost losing his balance as his ears rang from the movement.

Viktor didn’t know how much time had passed, but it must have been longer than he’d anticipated judging from the stacks of papers Jayce gathered in his arms. He had an intriguing look in his eyes. “Got a minute?”

One that Viktor immediately recognized as bubbling anticipation and jubilant nausea. “Of course.” 

His eyes flickered meaningfully to the stacks and…blueprints? in Jayce’s hands as he set them down gingerly on the coffee table beside the book Viktor discarded. 

“What’s all this?”

Jayce took a seat beside him, despite the ample room the settee provided, handing Viktor several typed pages bound together. “Take a look!”

Viktor traced over the thick ink of the long-winded title. It was the first paper they had ever written. The Novel Implementation of Magic and Technology as an Alternate and Superior Energy Source. It was Professor Heimerdinger that revised their initial title after they pored over a succinct and proper caption. They’d feared publishers wouldn’t even take a second look at their research before throwing it in the bin and sending them a rejection letter based on the absurdity of their claims alone. But, to the Professor’s point, after its initial submission, and after months of careful and thorough revisions,

It had been published.

Without Viktor’s name accompanying Jayce’s.

It had stung. Worse yet, Viktor wasn’t even surprised. Jayce had been outraged, but he calmed once Viktor swallowed his own hurt pride and reminded them that their research had just been approved to be published in a major journal. Grant funding was flooding in. Investors were taking them seriously now. 

There was no room to make waves in those waters. Not now. Not when the tides had finally turned to their favor.

“But…you’re my partner.”

“Yes, and I will continue to be your partner and work with you on our Hextech dream.”

Much the same had been altered on all professional documents containing Viktor’s singular name. Come publication, Viktor’s name went mysteriously missing, even years after Hextech took off the ground.

But this paper contained stark differences from the original publication. Viktor gingerly picked up the other documents laid out on the table. Their subsequent papers. Revised. Reworked. Blueprints, updated after further trials and real-world application. Patents amended and edited. 

All to include Viktor’s name, written in bold,

With the Talis name following it.

“Jayce…”

“They should have never left you out of the authors page in the first place.” Jayce wrapped an arm around Viktor’s waist, drawing him close and pressing his lips to Viktor’s temple. “This is our dream. You’re my partner, Viktor. From that night we met in my old lab, destroyed, broken…” Like I was. The words hung in the air between them. “…and the night we made magic happen together.”

Viktor nodded, heart in his throat, his words trying to form around it. “Of course, you’ve always made that abundantly clear, Jayce.”

“And when the drafts go into publication, everyone will know it, too.” He gave such a hopeful, earnest smile, bright as the sun. “And every day after that. I can’t think of a better life than building our dream together.” 

Viktor could only nod, along, his head feeling light, his heart fluttering like the wings of a bird, too unsteady to keep flight. All Viktor could do was focus his energy on Jayce, staying on course despite the sudden turbulence: 

“We can make it official, after our wedding.”

Something blossomed in his chest, opening like roses with their delicate petals and their nest of thorns, swarming the space between his lungs until not even air could escape. 

He pulled away, a violent cough wracking through his body, rattling his bones and collapsing his chest with every rasp and squeeze of breath. He’d reflexively covered his mouth, at the very least, and briefly wondered if the vibrant stain of red on his sleeve came from the scarlet of the satin or from the blooming blood from his lungs. 

Viktor had hoped the blurriness from his vision were from mere misty-eyed sentimentality.

“Viktor?”

The black spots dotting his vision informed Viktor otherwise.

“Viktor?”

Viktor was vaguely aware that Jayce was calling his name, despite the incessant ringing in his ears. Viktor was also vaguely aware that Jayce bore a panicked expression on his face despite everything going dark just seconds later.

“VIKTOR!”

A part of Viktor knew he shouldn’t have dared to get his hopes up; shouldn’t have allowed himself to wish on fruitless sentiments; not when he was on borrowed time; not when everything he’d ever wanted, he’d had to fight, to grapple, and sink fang and claw into to keep.

But he simply didn’t have the energy for that now.

“VIKTOR!”

He felt weightless, or maybe that was because he was being lifted into the air and into someone’s arms. As his limbs surrendered and went limp, he vaguely wondered if this was what flying felt like. Or, more accurately, falling. Had come too close to the sun, and burned in its flames just to touch its warmth, vision and thoughts clouded by plumes of ash as he crashed down and realized he’d never come close to it,

Not in the slightest. Had only briefly seen a reflection, an echo of what could have been.

It was a beautiful, horrifying delusion, nevertheless.

Nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

“He’s quite weak right now. But he’ll live.” 

Jayce glared at him. If Jayce had his way, they’d be at an actual hospital right now, rather than contending with the home physician. But the doctor was quick and made himself available to meet with them immediately when Ximena sent the message. 

Besides, Jayce knew Viktor hated hospitals. Had an aversion to them, was even terrified of them in his own, private way. A part of Jayce knew he’d be happier to wake up in his home, rather on a cold, sterile hospital bed. 

Viktor had gone pale, silent, an unfocused look in his eyes before losing his balance. Jayce carried him in his arms, feeling light, so heartbreakingly light as if his bones had been hollowed out already. He’d been ready to take him to the hospital, run there with Viktor in his arms if need be. 

But his mother had calmed him, had drawn him away from the door. She ushered him to place Viktor on their bed, to properly assess him. Viktor’s pulse was slightly thready, but present; his breathing was shallow but deepened after Jayce removed his back brace. Viktor was pale, but his fingertips were still warm. Jayce nuzzled into his shoulder, into their bond, and Viktor responded with a tiny groan. 

In the background, his mother called for the home physician to come, urgently . 

Jayce was starting to rethink that decision. 

“He likely fainted from overexertion. Perhaps…too much excitement? For one so frail as him already.” The physician tsk’d, shaking his head as he put away his stethoscope. “Undercity folk are prone to a myriad of weaknesses.” 

He gave a pointed look to the leg brace; Ximena placed a hand on Jayce’s shoulder, both grounding him and restraining him from aiming at the doctor’s throat. 

“He’s also anemic, so ensure a proper diet. I will prescribe some pills. However…” the physician titled his head, eyes focused on Viktor, lying prone on the bed, as though he were analyzing a puzzle before him, piece by piece. “Strange, I thought you bonded him.”

Jayce glared. “I did.”

“Curious…” Jayce withheld the urge to growl, to stand between the man and his partner as he trailed a gloved finger over the healing bondmark. Viktor instinctively curled away from the touch. “He should be further along in the process from your bite.”

Jayce secretly thought so as well. “His scent is stronger,” he reasoned. “The wedding heat didn’t last very long, but—”

Feared so as well.

“He’s not pupped,” the physician astutely noted. 

“I…” Jayce’s gaze flickered to the floor. Flashes of Viktor’s body beneath him, his warmth and scent swimming in Jayce’s head, the taste of Viktor on his tongue, writhing, whimpering against him as Jayce devoured him, worshipped every inch of him,

the wide-eyed look Viktor gave him when Jayce’s hands traveled too far down—

Jayce forced the thought out of his head. The last thing he wanted was the physician’s scrutiny. “We wanted to wait. Until after the wedding ceremony.”

“Mhm. Still, this is highly unusual.” He circled the bed, eyes on Viktor’s sleeping face, a vulture on the wing and eyeing its prey. “It’s almost as if…”

“What?” There was the briefest flicker of hesitation in the doctor, and that more than anything sent Jayce into a panic. “As if WHAT?!”

“As if he rejected the bond.”

Chapter Text

Resurfacing from restless slumber was—unpleasant, to say the least. It was not the gentle sway of waves bringing him to the shores of waking; it felt more like surging up too fast after diving down to depths too deep to even fathom. The agony of waking wracked through Viktor’s body, lungs aching for breath and his limbs weighted with exhaustion. Every sensation felt too loud, too sharp, too overwhelming for one blaring second before everything settled back to a shaky equilibrium as he opened his eyes.

Well. At least he wasn’t in the hospital.

“Viktor—!”

Viktor blinked the darkness from his vision. “Jayce…what…”

Jayce was at his side immediately, holding Viktor’s hand. Even with grogginess blurring everything around him, Jayce’s exhaustion and worry came into view with startling clarity. “You…passed out. A doctor came to check on you, and—”

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat. “…and?”

“…said…you overworked yourself.” 

Viktor felt his heart settle back beneath his ribs, relief flooding him. 

“Just rest for now.” Jayce rubbed his thumb against the back of Viktor’s palm. The simple touch alone spoke volumes of Jayce’s anxiety as his hand trembled while holding Viktor’s. “How are you feeling?”

Like shit. “The…same. As usual.”

Jayce frowned, either not believing him or believing him entirely. “You should take it easy, Viktor. You’re still recovering.”

In defiance, Viktor sat up, stifling his groans and the sharp pins now turned searing pain in his back. Jayce steadied him with a warm hand as the Alpha sat on the edge of the bed in apparent distress. In this position, Viktor felt barricaded, Jayce’s larger body bracketing him against the headboard as he steadied Viktor to a more comfortable position.

Jayce was badly shaken; even in this off-kilter dynamic, Viktor could see the concern marring his face in dark circles and fine lines. 

It was now or never.

“Jayce…we have to talk.” Viktor kept his voice low, soft. He didn’t know how Jayce would react to what Viktor was about to say. The fog had lifted, the reverie receding to unmask the gravity of the situation. “Back there, at The Hunt, I—”

“Overexerted yourself,” Jayce interjected, voice firm. Viktor pulled away, as much as he could in the cramped space, at the sight of that strange look in Jayce’s eyes. Something in Jayce had closed itself to Viktor, either as a defense or an attack. “I know, I know…I pushed you too hard. You weren’t prepared.” The usual warmth and affection there, tinged, tainted with something malignant just lurking beneath Jayce’s usual doting. “You didn’t know what you were getting into.”

Viktor leaned away from his touch, despite the gentle heat from Jayce’s hand cupping his cheek. “Jayce…”

His eyes narrowed. A crease formed on his brow. His breathing deepened. Jayce’s hand moved to Viktor’s side, caging him further. Viktor swallowed. Months—maybe years ago, this would have been easier. Easier to broach, to breach. Back when their ambitions and dreams perfectly play in tune.

Now…he didn’t even recognize the man in front of him.

Now, he couldn’t gauge the best way to respond. 

“You hadn’t known, and I had agreed to come,” Viktor said, voice keeping its usual calming lilt. The tension in Jayce’s shoulders began to loosen. Slowly, slowly.

If you have your head in a lion’s mouth,

Pull it out slowly. “I…overestimated my capabilities.”

Jayce’s eyes softened and Viktor let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

“I know. You endured it, for me.” His words curled possessively over that phrase. It was the same voice Jayce used when presenting their inventions, their innovation, the same pride and ownership he used for Hextech. “And gave me the surprise of my life…” The same voice Jayce used to present Viktor, “Allowing me to Hunt you.” 

As his partner.

A cog slotted into place.

So—

That’s what it was?

An invitation? Had that been written in scarlet ink too? 

He took Viktor’s terror, his desperation to get away from him—

As permission?

Nausea flooded his senses. He’d thought Jayce better than that—had believed his partner to be more than a base brute with only his prestige, his status, and his instincts to guide his actions.

Viktor tried again, had to reach Jayce again. “When you found me up that ridge—”

His stomach dropped as Jayce nuzzled him, the overpowering musk of Alphan pheromones smothering him. “I was terrified out of my mind.” Viktor wanted to laugh at the irony, if he weren’t so infuriated. “I thought I lost you, Viki…” Jayce leaned his head against Viktor’s chest, arms wrapping around his middle. “I thought you’d been taken from me.” Effectively trapping him with Jayce’s festering attachment.

Anger and affront spiked within Viktor, vitriol swirling unpleasantly in his veins as Jayce talked about him like he was a simple object. A toy to be dragged through the mud and rocks, to be stolen from his possession. “Oh, please Jayce, who would even—

—?!”

Time froze, and with it, Viktor’s heart.

Jayce soothed the harsh bite with a swipe of his tongue, before greedily sucking another bruise on Viktor’s neck, then moving to his collar, then his chest—

“It wouldn’t matter,” Jayce growled as his venom coursed through Viktor’s blood, drowning everything thought with murky desire. “I wouldn’t give anyone the chance.”

Viktor’s heart pulsed loudly in his ears; everything started slurring together in his mind, finding himself slower and weaker to respond as Jayce laid him back down on the bed. Wretchedly, his body already started to react to Jayce’s touch, his warmth, his worship with every kiss on Viktor’s skin, with every layer of clothing shed between them. The hand Viktor placed on Jayce’s shoulder did little to deter his enthusiasm, not with Viktor torn between shoving him away and dragging his mouth to where Viktor needed it most.

Jayce, it seemed, had other plans.

It was…

Bittersweet. The way Jayce so sweetly cradled his face in his hands, the way his mouth slotted against Viktor’s in aching desperation, warmth spreading through Viktor’s chest, a lantern lit beneath his ribs at such cruel affection as Jayce deepened the kiss, taking everything and giving back what Viktor had once upon a time yearned to offer with all his pathetic, longing heart.

Maybe, in another universe, in another circumstance,

This could have been everything Viktor ever wanted, handed to him with ardent kisses and blooming roses.

But deeper than all blossoms, Viktor still found himself standing before this gaping maw, sharp fangs threatening to graze his soft flesh as he slowly, slowly inched his way out.

Viktor broke away, placating Jayce with another kiss, shorter, rougher with a nip to his lower lip. It was a decision that wasn’t truly a decision at all. “I thought you said I needed rest…”

Not if Viktor wanted a fighting chance. 

Viktor suppressed a shudder as Jayce met his gaze with fire. “It’s all right, Viki.” Ravenous, ravaging everything in its path, all the way back to blooms of lilacs and violets against the soft, fragile flesh of Viktor’s throat, teeth sinking in an opus of ownership. “I’ll do all the work…”

And Viktor allowed him—invited him, permitted him, spread his legs and allowed Jayce to devour him as he sought an escape before there was nothing left. 

Slowly,

Slowly.

On the days Viktor pretended to sleep, venom coursing through his blood, Jayce only left his side for a few hours at a time. Viktor’s own treacherous body betrayed him to ache in his absence, so deeply it rivaled even the Bad (worse) Days.

Jayce’s bite did more than bind him to his partner.

It was changing him too.

Viktor watched, half-hidden from the drawn curtains of the bedroom window. Below, the guards at the Talis estate seemed to multiply over the coming days. Jayce hired them the moment Hextech made its mark on the map with the Hexgates. Suddenly, the modest House Talis was thrust into the spotlight, and with it, unsavory competitors in the industrial field and a (small but avid) flock of rather disturbed fans.

At this moment, they merely acted as another obstacle.

Viktor watched Jayce’s figure as he exited the gates, walking towards the direction of the forge.

But then he stopped in his steps,

It was as if Jayce caught something in the wind, as if he sensed eyes upon him. It was difficult to tell from the distance.

Yet, all the same, Viktor knew that Jayce was somehow staring right at him,

Pinning Viktor with his silent gaze.

(Jayce turned towards a flutter of curtains by the window. He stared, hesitating, before finally moving away.

He made a quiet promise to return to Viktor soon.)

Viktor rested his weight against his cane. His heart pounded against his frail chest, breaths coming out in unsteady staccatos. The dark room provided little solace to him.

Jayce proved himself…unwilling to discuss the events of The Hunt. Silenced and diverted with the point of teeth and a rush of poison.

It was incredibly debilitating. It was also incredibly annoying. 

With Alpha venom dancing down his veins, Viktor found himself questioning why he was even trying to broach the topic. Did it change the outcome in the end? Did it change Viktor’s heart in the end?

Wasn’t this what you wanted?

On hours where the effects have dulled, allowing reason to break through the siren song of submission, Viktor knew that a marriage built on such tumultuous misunderstandings would burn bright with the fire that forged it before collapsing within itself.

(Then again, against the racing clock of Viktor’s illness, it’s not like Jayce ever had to worry about that long-term.)

Viktor sighed as he ambled towards the bed. Jayce had begun to talk of wedding preparations with hopeful enthusiasm. They were to meet with a coordinator in the coming week.

What was the weight of unsaid words against the weight of wedding vows?

Jayce had heeded the physician’s recommendations with a severity that rivaled neurotics.

Bed rest was strictly enforced when Jayce was at his side. There were some exceptions: afternoon tea with Ximena; lunch in the shade of the gardens, as long as Viktor finished his entire meal. Excursions past that distance, however, remained a point of contention. Viktor requiring an item, medications, spare brace, or cane from his apartment? Jayce will fetch it himself. Guest lecture at the Academy? Jayce will reschedule it. Returning to the lab? Unquestionably off-limits.

Health hazard Jayce had cited, given how Viktor had suddenly collapsed just sitting and poring through documents. Handling heavy machinery (or experimental Hextech equipment) proved too dangerous in his current state. 

In a similar vein, tools were removed from Viktor’s vicinity, and even kitchen utensils were closely monitored.

Idle hands and devil’s playthings, and all that.

Any attempts at continuing their research, even through theoreticals and hypotheses, were met with infuriating redirection. Food was shoved his way. Iron-pills that made him want to vomit were introduced to his diet. He was even carried to the solarium like a damn houseplant for sunshine every morning.

Viktor was going stir-crazy.

Jayce at least made himself useful in providing… physical distractions.

Which lead to Viktor’s current predicament of shoving at Jayce’s chest, having awoken to the crushing weight of being pinned to the mattress by the Man of Progress himself. 

“Off, gordito. You’re heavy.”

Jayce responded with rolling just a bit to the side for Viktor to squirm out from under him, only for Viktor to be dragged back to Jayce’s side.

Petulant thing.

And despite the growing sense of regular irregularity of this situation, it was undeniable that Jayce had…changed since the time of The Hunt. And not just in the actions that reflected Jayce’s thoughts and assumed Alphan customs.

Clingy, might be superficial definition, but there was something else, cresting through the affection during minute tensions between them. Since the inception of their partnership, Jayce had always maintained a level of…protectiveness over Viktor. Perhaps it was an extension of Jayce’s earnest support, but Viktor had chalked it up to defending his interests in his research. Later, Viktor attributed it to a friendship forged in 60-hour workweeks, caffeine-fueled calculations, and chaotic collaboration that melded perfectly together in the formation of their Hextech dream.

Over time, of course, that changed as their projects grew, requiring the courting of beasts—err, investors.

And despite Jayce’s firm insistence, Viktor knew that what the public wanted was marketability: a Piltovan face belonging to a respected House. They wanted a mascot, a Man of Progress to take the helm. Abandoning their most important work to build the Hexgates was only the start of it.

Viktor had just gotten used to the distance. The gulf stretched between them, a boundary lined with galas, investor meetings, agendas from the Council,

Mel,

Had become the new norm. The very pain that Viktor forced down had become little more than the daily aches and stabs of pain as chronic illness ravaged through his body. The closeness, the affection, the warmth of their partnership had become a luxury to be savored.

Viktor was a Zaunite, born amid noxious fumes, hunger, and explosive violence—the runoff from the City of Progress. He was no stranger to fleeting happiness and having it cruelly snatched from his hands, no matter how tightly, how desperately he clung on.

Viktor knew better than to depend on fickle joy.

“You’re thinking again.”

Not in the long-term.

But just how long did he have? “One of us has to.” Viktor wriggled free from Jayce’s grasp before the brute could bite him in retaliation. “Considering you’ve kept me bedridden all this time.”

“An exaggeration.” Jayce wrangled Viktor to his side, leaving him defenseless against a swift kiss to his lips. “But I could hold you to that,” he murmured.

Viktor shot him a look. “I’m rotting in this place.” He shook his head, hardly exaggerating his growing exasperation. “You’re making innuendo, and I’m rotting.”

“Dramatic,” Jayce (wrongfully) accused.  

 Viktor held his tongue at a biting remark that he was sure to regret later. “At least give me a chalkboard,” he reasoned.

Jayce nuzzled at his bond mark. “What, so you could plot your clean getaway?”

As if Viktor needed a chalkboard for that. “Don’t be silly, Jayce. We know how that went last time.”

Jayce chuckled, pressing a kiss to the curve of Viktor’s shoulder. “Hm…fine.”

“With chalk,” Viktor added.

A moment of silence ticked by. Viktor held his breath, days of placating Jayce and losing his mind in the process, maybe, hopefully culminating in this single decision: “Fine,” Jayce relented. “I’ll bring one. “

Viktor beamed, trying not to allow his relief to show. “Thank you, Jayce.”

Jayce took a kiss as payment. “Later, though. I’ll be in the forge.”

Viktor perked up at this information. “Ironing out the details on the Atlas Gauntlets?” They’d briefly discussed a locking and unlocking mechanism to ensure the grip wouldn’t loosen, even under erratic and extreme movements. Useful when a one-size fits all situation truly didn’t fit all. “Or getting started on the Mercury Hammer?”

This was the part that Viktor had missed. Had thrived upon. Their work. Their shared dream. Changing the world,

Progress.

A piece of Viktor fractured and fragmented to slivers when Jayce gave him an amused, indulging smile. “It’s a surprise.”

Viktor made a face. He didn’t bother to hide it. “You know I hate surprises.”

Especially considering how that went last time.

Jayce pecked him on the cheek in apology. “You’ll like this one.” He rolled out of bed, the warmth next to Viktor already fading.

Viktor watched as Jayce readied for the day, drawn curtains revealing the front of the Talis Estate,

And the guards marching below, like little toy soldiers.

Jayce worked with intricate pieces all his life.

Every prototype that Jayce created for Hextech had first been forged by his hand, long before Viktor even partnered with him. Fine details, brittle and volatile materials, and finicky components that required precise and painstaking care were patiently and painstakingly crafted by his own hands. Maths married aesthetic and design, physics complying with elegance and simplicity with everything Jayce created with his own pride and endeavors.

Jayce is, first and foremost, a scientist.

This design, however, was a far cry from what Jayce was used to.

This type of construct required a thoughtful development not just based on function, but on taste. Delicate, but nothing fragile. Nothing that Jayce might accidentally ruin by being overzealous. Sentimental but striking. Fashionable, but subtle enough for his reticent partner. Something pretty to wrap around Viktor’s slender, pale throat, but bold enough for the House Talis colors to mark him for the world to see.

If he’ll accept it.

The hammer almost slipped out from his grip. Jayce cursed beneath his breath. The metal beneath needed to be re-heated, re-formed due to his carelessness.

Behind him, the forge flames rumbled, almost in comfort. It provided solace in Jayce’s solitude as anxieties and doubts gnawed at the edge of his thoughts. “It’s fine.” The forge remained still. “The doctor—he was wrong.”

The fires passed neither approval nor judgment. 

He wrung his hands before pacing between the furnace and the half-finished piece. Despite the familiar heat of his workspace, a cold chill sliced right through his chest at the echoes of the physician’s assessment, at the memory of Viktor’s shock, alarm, and panic at the sight of him when he’d found his partner, hidden away, ignoring Jayce’s desperate pleas of his name, of any sign that Viktor was safe.

“He let me Hunt him,” Jayce reasoned, bringing a torch’s controlled flame to the unruly metal.

It was The Hunt. Jayce had been the one to invite him, had been the one to plead with Viktor to attend. Jayce had been the one to tend to him, to care for him, to provide for him when Viktor had been too ill-prepared to go off on his own. And Jayce had been the one to successfully hunt him, claim him.

“He’s in my home, my bed.” Jayce took the hammer again, trying (and failing) to shift his focus to the work in front of him.

Viktor was laying there now, bored out of his mind after tearing through the house for something to tinker with, or perhaps he was having tea (and sweet milk) with his mother out in the gardens, trying to convince and barter with the matron of the Talis household for more embarrassing childhood tales as ammunition the next time Jayce tried teasing him.

“He bears my mark.”

Or maybe Viktor’s sitting by the window again, hand absently stroking the gentle curve of his neck, pressing on the bruises as if to make sure they were still there.

Then why isn’t the bond taking?

Jayce held up the thin, malleable metal. He wasn’t a jeweler. He didn't work with soft, precious elements like these. Still, it hammered easily to thin sheets, and utilizing lighter force than what Jayce was used to, it proved forgiving in bending to his designs.

Maybe Jayce had been approaching this from the wrong angle.

Maybe it wasn’t Viktor rejecting his bond, their marriage.

Maybe it was his nature.

Proud,

Independent,

Self-reliant,

Stubborn,

Uncompromising.

Everything that Jayce loves about him, adores about him. A direct contrast to what his Dominant nature demanded.

Viktor was uninterested in flowers, but indulged in the occasional sweet or pastry. Offers to dinner were met with judging stares and reminders about strict deadlines. Viktor was skittish with intimate touches, but relaxed and savored a warm, supportive hand on his back. 

Jayce learned early on that Viktor had peculiar tastes, ones that Jayce met with confident enthusiasm once he learned his rhythms. Jayce courted with nights spent together in their lab, with finishing equations Viktor left on ink and chalk, with a cane he made with memorizing Viktor’s figure and form, braces to preserve his mobility and ease his pain. He loved him with every stubborn attempt to resubmit their papers with his name on the fine print. Jayce loved him with innovation and invention and creation—

And his Dominant nature has been pacing like a wild animal behind the cage of his ribs, waiting for Viktor to finally submit.

Jayce faltered.

He’d sooner change direction of the rising sun before he’d change anything about Viktor—about the very core of what made him who he is. All his perfect imperfections are everything Jayce adores about him.

But is it enough to keep him? 

The furnace roared. 

The modified Atlas Gauntlets sat at the corner of his workstation, still awaiting the unfinished designs his partner had been working on. Everything was at a standstill until this was sorted. Years, even months ago, he thought nothing short of an apocalyptic event would keep him and Viktor from pursuing their Hextech dream at full speed and full force. 

But it seemed Jayce’s priorities met a slight shift.

Or a tectonic one. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’d long decided Viktor was his from the start.

But his love for Viktor was forged with a slow, devoted flame.

He found Viktor by the window. The warmth of daylight framed his delicate form in a fragile radiance as Viktor perched on a comfortable chaise with an open book left unattended. Rest and plentiful food brought some color back to Viktor’s sallow cheeks, and the coughing fits seem to have subsided in the meantime, but Jayce knew it would take more than a few days off work to improve his partner’s health.

And it would take many more to convince Viktor to prioritize his wellbeing.

He seemed lost in reverie. Or, knowing Viktor, lost in formulas and conceptualizations. Jayce cleared his throat to inform him of his presence and watched with fondness at Viktor’s expected little jump before turning to him in relief. “Oh Jayce, there you—”

The next word trailed off to silence as Jayce placed an ornate box of gold and red before him.

Viktor gave a nervous laugh, eyes darting between Jayce and the gift. “Is…there a chalkboard in there?”

Jayce gave a chuckle at the expectedly unexpected response. “Oh right, I knew I forgot something on my way here.”

All traces of amusement left Viktor’s face. “Jayce.”

“Viki,” he countered.

Viktor continued with his dead-eyed stare before retaliating: “…gordito.”

Jayce bit back a smile, admitting defeat. “I’m sorry. I’ll get it first thing in the morning.” 

The irritation melted almost instantaneously. Leave it to Viktor to have a one-track mind. But, given Jayce had ultimately appeased his partner, now came the matter of—

He was shaking. Jayce only did that when he was nervous. It usually preceded Jayce’s infamous ramblings—

“Remember when you broke into my room during my rut?”

There it is. “Hm? Which time?” Viktor asked.

Jayce rolled his eyes, if only to keep himself from laughing. “The first time.” And failing, for that matter.

“Ah, yes.” It had been nothing short of disastrous. Viktor winced at the needless commotion a simple act caused. “Quite the impression I made on your mother.”

Jayce raised a brow. “You barged in there with notes and blueprints, demanding if I ‘bothered’ to finish the theorems on how to stabilize the crystals.”

Viktor shrugged, the logic of his actions seeming perfectly sound. “Of course. Our work was still in its infancy and had become rather infamous in the Council due to that explosion. We needed to ensure that it was safe enough to be handled.”

That, and nearly all Zaun Betas had common knowledge of basic rut-care. And besides, 

Jayce had been his first friend. His first real friend.

The familiarity of their banter dropped the tension in Jayce’s shoulders. “During my rut, Viki?” he asked with a weary smile.

“Progress waits for no one,” he replied easily.

Jayce huffed out a laugh. Incredulous. Incredible. Viktor would be the death of him. “I thought…you were the craziest thing.”

He remembered his own mother’s affront—remembered the utter shock of an unmated Beta at the door, requesting an audience with her unmated Alpha son. Remembered how Viktor politely but firmly bargained with her that his visit would only take a minute of Jayce’s time. Remembered how Viktor slipped into Jayce’s room, in the midst of his rut, unknowing of (or knowingly) what he was doing to him, being so close, his sweet scent flooding Jayce’s senses, his soft, lilting voice and sharp smiles taunting him, teasing him.

You have to have known. You must have. “Barging into a Dominant Alpha’s den like that, rattling off new ideas and methods to test them and I…” You’re perfect. You’re perfect for me. In every way. “I thought I was gonna lose my mind seeing you there—”

I thought I would lose control. That I’d drag you to my bed, take you apart, fuck you like you were begging for it.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, how inconsiderate of me to interrupt your sexually-charged pity-party.”

But you were, weren’t you?

Always pushing. Always trying to take control. Challenging Jayce to see if he’d rise to the bait, so pleased whenever Jayce folded to him. Jayce was partly to blame for this too. It comforted Jayce, knowing he satisfied Viktor.

“In all honesty, I was simply trying to help.” Viktor said, as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. “I may not be an Omega, but a Beta can certainly handle the job, right?”

In hindsight, it probably was.

Viktor made his intentions clear. It was up to Jayce to finally read between the lines and see what Viktor wanted all along.

Jayce gestured to the gift. “I made this. For you.” He held a breath as Viktor hesitated to pull the ends of the tidy bow, his steady hands unraveling the meticulously strung ribbon. Viktor lifted the lid to find—

“A symbol. Of our union.”

A collar.

Viktor’s heart sank. He felt his insides twist.  

“It’s…” his words died in his throat. The red leather and gold felt heavy in his hands. “Jayce, what—”

Viktor held his breath as Jayce took the collar, wrapping it around his neck, fastening the leather over the gold buckle. A ruby pendant formed to the Talis insignia fell over the hollow of his throat.

Slowly,

Slowly,

Jayce’s warm palm caressed the sharp line of Viktor’s jaw, a thumb brushing over the pallor of his cheeks. “There…fits perfectly, doesn’t it?”

Fangs fell upon his head like a blade. 

“I…” Viktor swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat catch at the leather around his neck. “Yes.”

“It looks good on you.” Jayce straightened the gold-emblazoned ruby on the front. Viktor looked up at him, glassy-eyed, speechless as Jayce rumbled in pleasure. “My colors always do.”

Viktor knew better than to depend on fickle joy.

And he’d been proven right, as it eroded before his very eyes, 

Affection turned to noxious obsession.

The pendulum swung in the opposite direction.

Jayce’s presence was near-suffocating. Even with his venom placating Viktor’s ire, the lingering will to assert his independence and to voice just how wrongwrongwrong this was spurred him to keep his head above the fog, above Jayce’s poisoned wants.

And so, Viktor waited. Waited patiently with the brand of ownership on his neck, his hands idle and folded on his lap, jaw barely tensing as Jayce spoke for him, above him. His hand was always on Viktor, somewhere on his body, as though leashing him to go with the damned collar he put on his neck like a noose.

I just wanted to stretch my legs.

              I’ll come with you.

Let’s head to the lab for a moment, I’d like to pick up some—

              Viktor, that’s out of the question. You’re supposed to be resting.

Jayce was treating Viktor less and less like his partner and more like a damn pet.

But it was no matter. Viktor bided his time. Viktor did not enter a partnership to be treated as lesser. Not by Jayce. Not when everyone else had already done that all Viktor’s life.

And the longer Jayce kept him here, the shorter that life may be.

When are you bringing the chalkboard?

              Soon.

It came later rather than sooner. Jayce cited that perhaps juggling both Hextech and wedding preparations would be too much, but Viktor vowed to use it responsibly.

Jayce brought the chalkboard into the solarium, where Viktor could work in the bright, natural light. It took some dismantling of the legs to finally fit it through the doors, but Viktor was pleased as Jayce leaned in for a kiss, 

Making sure to tuck the forgotten screwdriver beneath a decorative throw.

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

When Jayce finally arrived at the Talis home, enforcers were already at the gate.

He received the report as worn, weary, and soaking guards were escorted away. During the change of shift, they’d been lured by the sound of a window breaking; the threat of an intruder had them running to investigate, 

Admittedly leaving the gates wide open. 

The guards entered the dim outbuilding with caution, only for a click to sound in the darkness. The doors suddenly shut behind them, and in their shouts of confusion, what must have been a phantom proceeded its unholy marauding.

When backup finally arrived, they found a metal rod blocking the double doors, a group of terrified guards soaked to the bone from a burst pipe, covered with tar, and what appeared to be mulch,

And a record player with the mocking tune of Ride of the Valkyries in eerie rhythm to the flickering lights, the notes echoing amid the groans of confusion and disorientation.

Jayce kept a calm façade, despite the urge to laugh. To bury the fury and agony with sheer hysteria.

“Mister Talis, did you…” the enforcer’s eyes flickered to the side. “…happen to see anything suspicious?”

Jayce shook his head. “No, sir. We were just coming back home from…a little walk.” Jayce’s grip on Viktor’s thin wrist tightened. “Isn’t that right?”

Viktor grit his teeth, refusing to meet his or the enforcer’s gaze. He hadn't even addressed him.

The collar gleamed a bloodied shine, heavy on his throat. “Yes,” he muttered, knowing his words held no weight, no matter what he said. “We didn’t see anything.” 

Not when he was leashed to an Alpha. 

Chapter Text

 your eyes have their silence:
 in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
 or which i cannot touch because they are too near

-somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond, e.e. cummings

Viktor fought back a startle at the mug set in front of him.

“I brought you some coffee.” The Alpha’s—Jayce’s warmth, his close proximity, and the headiness of his scent was something Viktor was still trying to get used to. “It’s my favorite blend,” he added with a (rather charming) smile.

In truth, Viktor was trying to grow accustomed to another person’s persistent presence in the first place.

Viktor’s gaze flickered to the mug. “Oh, thank you, but I—”

I’m not much of a coffee drinker, to tell you the truth.

Perhaps not the best thing to tell someone who went out of their way to retrieve them a generous cup “Thank you,” Viktor instead settled.

Jayce gave a pleased smile at the response, only for the good will to immediately dissipate the moment he caught the Beta gingerly picking up the Hexcrystal—

“HEY!”

Viktor, once more, fought back a startle, irritation and doubt creeping into the back of his mind. He turned, meeting the terse, tense Alpha looking back at him.

Territorial.

How typical.

Even if Viktor did find his presence overwhelming.

“Viktor, be careful with that—”

“I was, until you squawked at me,” Viktor countered with an even voice as he gently placed the Hexcrystal back in its case.

“I didn’t—” Jayce at least had the decency to retract that statement. “Nevermind, I…sorry about that. But please, be careful.”

It wasn’t as if Viktor was unaware. He’d seen the damage for himself, assessed it, and had even attributed its instability and danger to the public,

Back to Jayce himself.

Viktor knew who he was working with; an Alpha supported by the one of the richest and most powerful families in all of Piltover; certain attributes came to mind: possessive, territorial, especially given how his work, his reputation, and his ability to practice in his private research had been wrenched away from him.

But Viktor needed to remind him of his place here too. As a partner; an equal; an authority in his own right. He did not risk everything he’d worked towards to be treated as anything less. “I’m well aware of how dangerous it is, Jayce. I came to inspect the aftermath of its…volatility, remember?”

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed out. A reluctant smile formed. “You were such an asshole.”

Viktor shrugged, appreciative of the easing tension. “It’s necessary for the job I have.”

“Wait, you’re still the Professor’s assistant?” The questioning—rather, demand—gave Viktor pause. He turned to find Jayce frowning and staring back at him with incredulity. “After everything?”

Strange.

Was he concerned that Viktor was secretly reporting their findings back to Professor Heimerdinger? They would eventually need to, as he was overseeing their progress as a self-ascribed mentor since the night breaking into the Professor’s lab.

Or was this a matter of sharing?

Viktor shrugged. “We need materials. The Professor allows me to use his lab from time to time, but we will need our own.” Viktor gestured to the crumbling floors and the missing wall behind him. “We need to prove to the Council that Hextech is not as dangerous as it was perceived. That means we need to stabilize the crystal, and that means—”

“Funding for cost, got it…” Jayce sighed. After all, Jayce was no stranger to proving himself worthy from a profit-margin standpoint, and given the atrocity of his trial, it would take much more than their first demonstration to convince the Kirammans to reinstate her sponsorship for support. “But hey, we still proved to the Professor on its potential! And Councilor Medarda, too!”

Optimistic. Viktor wondered if that was the result of nature or nurture. 

Viktor nodded. “Yes. We proved we could float mid-air for several minutes before needing to be rescued by the fire department.”

Viktor turned, if only to hide the twitch of the corner of his mouth at Jayce’s expected and instant indignation. “But come on, that was—that was magical! For years I’ve been looking for some kind of reaction like that, for the crystals to do anything other than briefly power up and explode!”

Viktor congratulated himself on keeping a straight face. “Just how many explosions did you go through?”

“I mean,” Jayce floundered. “That’s why they were meant to be kept in the case. And why they’re not meant to be handled by just anyone,” he jabbed back.

“Hmph, I thought you said we were partners in this,” Viktor said airily, looking over at the chalkboard before them, his fingers just barely grazing the top of the case holding the remainder of the Hexcrystals.

“We are!” Jayce squirmed, clearly uncomfortable. When he caught Viktor raising a skeptical brow at him, Jayce conceded. “We—we definitely are.” He strode over to where the case was laid and—to Viktor’s shock—opened it, offering Viktor the crystal with a steady hand. The brilliant blue pulsed with enigmatic energy before him as Jayce gently laid it on Viktor’s palm.

It didn’t feel quite like a surrender. There was no hesitancy from reluctance; nor the bitter candor of compromise.

“Even if you are still working for Professor Heimerdinger,” Jayce pouted, a teasing lilt to the edge of his words.

Viktor made a thoughtful sound before admitting: “Part-time. He approved the transition to decrease my workload last night.”

“He did!?”

The abrupt bark—sheer joy and disbelief—nearly made Viktor drop the precious (and horrifically volatile) Hexcrystal.

Territorial already, are we?

Not that Viktor …entirely disapproved. He nodded. “The Professor did. He understands that I’ve found something…more worth my while.”

.

.

.

The Hexgates were almost in sight. The lab—their lab—nestled beneath their most profitable accomplishment to date. It was symbolic, in a way.

The economic culmination of Hextech—their Hextech dream. It earned them funding. It earned them a spot on the map. It earned them recognition.

Viktor grimaced.

Well,

It earned Jayce Talis Golden Boy Glory, anyways.

It was also terribly inconvenient to get to.

But Viktor persevered, sheer determination clashing against days of deconditioning, against days of Alphan venom keeping his body weak, siphoning his will and keeping him complacent. Now, as he scarpered from the front gates of the Talis House, anxiety served as a potent poison taking its place, but one he feared was too short-lived.

He knew Enforcers would be called to the scene soon.

He knew Jayce would stumble upon his little display.

Thankfully, it was rather easy to slink into the crowd given his disability; the way strangers’ eyes darted away from him, keeping their gaze far from him and his limp; the familiar way he’d been overlooked like an ugly stain, better to be ignored if it couldn’t be fixed. 

It didn’t even matter that he’d been seen rushing along—after all, it’s not like he was capable of mischief-making and getting away with it— far too weak and incapable of trapping several guards in a modest storeroom while keeping them cradled in chaos as he made his escape.

Adrenaline joined this uncomfortable cocktail of desperation, a fleeting reprieve when Viktor’s rapidly deteriorating health was pitted against it. Breathing became a much more of a laborious task when Viktor was trying to cover more ground with hastened steps. Frustratingly, mortifyingly, he had to slow his stride far sooner than he would have liked. 

A passerby nearly bumped into him, muttering something ugly under his breath as they sidestepped Viktor’s slowed pace.

Stopping to catch his breath now was a dangerous thing, especially when Jayce was set to return any moment now.

But Viktor has clawed his way out of the trenches before. Figuratively, literally. All he was, all he would ever come to be remembered—everything he’d risked and sacrificed, everything he’d withstood and bled for,

Was not going to be taken from him,

Viktor trudged along, ignoring the way people cleared from his path, keeping their gazes low but their whispers and mutters loud, their eyes burning at his back; he kept his focus at the lab, at the Hexgates.

Not by a bond, not by archaic Piltover custom,

Not by impending death and disease,

And certainly not by Jayce.

.

.

.

But sometimes, it was one step forward, 2 steps back.

“Hm, how intriguing—” Viktor murmured, leafing through the leatherbound Talis-marked journal. “I had no idea Dmitri came off as such a braggart.”

“Hey!” At the very least, Viktor was learning to anticipate Jayce’s outbursts. “Don’t go snooping through my notes! Those are off-limits!”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Then might I suggest that you transcribe your notes more legibly on the chalkboard; perhaps then, I wouldn’t have to resort to making assumptions and, ah, ‘snooping.’”

Judging by the expression Jayce wore, his suggestion was not well-met. “You shouldn’t be going through my things like that.”

Viktor rolled his eyes and muttered something about Typical Alphan possessiveness. “Apologies, Jayce, however I required more insight to your previous experiments to determine which methods have resulted in failure—” 

The annoyance written all over it soured to something that almost looked like shame. 

“And why.”

.

.

.

Jayce should have known.

He should have known—

He’d be impressed if he weren’t furious right now.

Viktor, always pushing, always breaking past limits, disregarding his own health, his own safety, like nothing could get between him and his goals. His ambition, his obsession—

It was what set him apart from anyone else that Jayce had ever known.

And now, the very thing that made Jayce fall in love with him has led him to his own home, gates wide open, guards in a muffled frenzy within the outbuilding, and his own mate nowhere to be found.

Jayce ignored the frantic calls from the Talis estate, guessing that Enforcers were approaching, but knowing that Viktor was steadily getting further and further away.

It wasn’t difficult to guess where Viktor was headed.

In some maddening way, Jayce wanted to ask Viktor how he did it—how he managed to escape, what tools he used to trap a patrol of guards so his partner with his brilliant mind and debilitating limp could slip out of his fiancé’s home to—

To what? 

To what end?

Once upon a time, Jayce fancied the notion of having his name plastered across the nation, being recognized as the man who brought magic to their homes, bore the title of The Man of Progress with pride. Now, however, he sorely missed the anonymity as passerby strangers attempted to steal his attention, called his name, requested an autograph, pleaded to make small-talk—

All the while Jayce had to politely decline, diplomatically excuse himself, and swiftly covered his harried steps and urgency, like he wasn’t losing his mind at the thought of his mate escaping from him,

This time, not willfully enticing Jayce to hunt him,

But to remind Jayce that Viktor was not so easily tamed—that Viktor’s stubbornness came with a selfish, neurotic compulsion to disregard his own personal safety and the concern of those around him.   

Jayce kept his gaze trained on the Hexgates, the lab, knowing that to Viktor, none came first before his own research, his own ambitions towards progress.

.

.

.

Jayce was losing his mind.

Rightfully so, of course.

Dinner?

Denied, on account of days bleeding to nights and saving up every ounce of silver they could manage for materials. That was, unless “dinner” consisted of cheap takeout and instant meals shared between the two during late nights at the lab—which, while admittedly didn’t carry the soul of romance, still had its essence from their joint enjoyment and company. 

Flowers?

Viktor was woefully allergic. The kitten-squeak sneezes were cute for the first few minutes before airway compromise became a real concern.

(Houseplants with a lower pollen count seemed to be less aggravating to his hypersensitivity at least.)

Sweets and pastries—

Okay, those were readily accepted, and Jayce had been granted many-a gracious smile and grateful word. He took meticulous notes on which confections and candies Viktor preferred (outlined in a private) journal, and made sure to go through a regular rotation of Viktor’s favorites during particularly rough patches of their research.

But everything else…

“I don’t need you coddling me, Jayce.” Viktor didn’t even turn from his position, soldering with Jayce’s (stolen) goggles. “I need your focus and I need your collaboration to make this work.”

Coddling?

Was that really how Viktor saw it? Childish, clumsy attempts to earn Viktor’s favor? As if Jayce would dare insult Viktor and his acerbic pride?

Jayce didn’t understand it. Viktor didn’t shy away from his scent, had gratefully accepted the new crutch Jayce had forged just for him in his House colors, and had even allowed Jayce to replace his necktie to bear the reds of House Talis.

Yet Viktor shied away from his touch. Was skittish with Jayce coming too close, close enough to scent him, yet he didn’t mind Jayce scent-claiming their shared space, the small comforts like blankets and pillows he’d placed there in offering for Viktor to nest—

(Did Betas even nest?)

The constant contradictions made Jayce question every action he was about to make, whether or not he was being allowed to continue his courting, if Viktor was showing acceptance, preference,

Or indifference.

Maybe it was all pointless. Maybe Jayce was going about it all wrong. Maybe Jayce had misinterpreted what he perceived was mutual affection, mutual want.

Or maybe it was his inner-Alpha, unhappy at the perceived rejection as Jayce lounged and sulked despite the restlessness in his bones from his oncoming rut without his mate to soothe him. And as Jayce tossed and turned in his bed, feeling anxiety crawling beneath his skin and irritation flowing hot in his veins, the latter possibility seemed the most likely contender.

Ruts were never pleasant to begin with, but it had never been this intense before, and Jayce hadn’t anticipated it coming so soon.

In fact…

It was Viktor that had sensed it. Had looked at Jayce with a wide-eyed expression and asked him why he was here, in the lab,

“When your rut’s about to start, of all times?”

Which!

Was so very interesting that the Beta was suddenly so aware of him and his Alphan tendencies, when he tended to look the other way all other times!

Jayce groaned. Viktor, despite their months working together, was still an enigma. Every time Jayce thought they were teetering on being more than just partners, Viktor would pull away or refocus and reorient Jayce on their more pressing goals.

Which!

Was great!

Just great!

They were blazing through progress at greater speeds than Jayce had ever been able to accomplish himself!

And yet, Jayce found himself frustrated. All his thoughts came back swirling in annoying loops in his head as Jayce slowly felt himself lose control and lose his mind. Nothing was direct with Viktor and a part of Jayce feared that he’d only fooled himself into believing that there was something more between them.

He loves me,

He loves me not,

Jayce sighed.

“Wait—Jayce is not seeing visitors at this moment—”

“It will only take a minute!”

Jayce sat up, eyes darting to the door. Viktor…?

“Please, this is hardly proper, young man!”

“Mrs. Talis, I assure you, this is fine—I’m Jayce’s partner—”

Partner.

The Alpha in him rumbled with pleasure at that. His Viktor. Coming to see him—during his rut? Hot pleasure flashed through his body, eyes darkening at the offering coming so eagerly to his door.

Perhaps Viktor was more forward than he thought.

Until those hopes were dashed in a violent explosion of dreams, magic, and combustible reactions as Viktor stumbled in, fumbling with the case of notes and blueprints as he’d apparently made the miraculous feat of dodging his mother to get to the top of the stairs. “Oh, there you are, Jayce!”

Jayce felt his annoyance stir, overtaking the disappointment as he watched Viktor pull up a chair next to his bed—

His bed where he laid, naked from the waist down due to the unbearable boiling in his blood from his own damn rut.

The very rut his partner had dissuaded him from attending work for.

But as it seemed, work was currently attending to him instead. 

“Have you finished with the theorems for the Hexcrystal stabilization yet?” Viktor asked, crossing his legs and pulling out a pen and notebook, looking so nonchalant Jayce could bite him.

A dark part of him whispered that he’d deserve it for running so eagerly into an Alpha’s den. “I’m…a bit incapacitated at the moment,” Jayce gritted out. “As you pointed out.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, seemingly unaffected by the violent roiling of Alphan pheromones that were meant to steer intruders from encroaching. Then again, it’s not like Viktor was particularly frightened by danger. “Pfft, I suppose it’s of benefit I decided to come after all.” His soft-sweet scent did prove to be soothing, untangling the coils of irritation and agitation within him. “Come now, Jayce…” he murmured, leaning towards him, the scent of sweet milk and a headier, earthier spice that Jayce couldn’t pinpoint slowly filled his lungs. “Focus,” Viktor commanded and Jayce felt his jaw ache to sink his teeth at Viktor’s pale neck.

What I wouldn’t give to have you in my bed.

But Jayce had to shake such thoughts (instincts) out of his head. Not here. Not now. Not when things were still so unclear between them. Jayce wetted his lips, squeezing his eyes as he focused on Viktor’s voice and scent. “It stabilized with the higher frequencies but outside of the apparatus, it’s still too delicate to be handled alone. We’ll need to recreate it…start from scratch to alter the structure, but that could take—”

“Years.” Viktor nodded grimly. “How about a bigger apparatus?”

Jayce blinked, sending a confused look to a pondering Viktor. “What?”

Viktor tapped his pen against the page, a telltale sign that his partner was grasping the fine threads of a greater idea. “Something to control its energy, to encase it. Magnify its output while keeping the fragile interior from tampering.” 

Jayce found himself nodding along. It could work. But realistically—“That’s gonna take a lot of material.” Jayce frowned as Viktor’s enthusiasm diminished a touch: “But it’s…possible,” he agreed. “What do you have planned?”

“The Distinguished Innovators Competition,” Viktor said with an eloquent mix of gravity and goading. “We need to have a prototype done by then. For backing.” He shifted his gaze to Jayce, a challenge in his eye. “Do you think we can manage it?”

And Jayce had to sigh, finding himself equal parts infuriated and equal parts utterly enamored.

So fine,

Viktor wasn’t in his bed and he wasn’t having fantastic sex with his mouthy, impossible, infuriating, perfect partner right now.

“Hand me a pen and my journal on the desk?”

Viktor rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated huff as he stood, leaning on his crutch for support. “Do ruts make all Alphas so bossy?”

Jayce balked. “You’re the one that barged into my room!”

But this was the next best thing.

your slightest look easily will unclose me
 though i have closed myself as fingers,
 you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
 (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

The competition was already off to a terrific start,

Is what Jayce would have said if he didn’t spend hours tightening bolts on the carriage to make sure the damn thing wouldn’t take someone’s eye out.

But after a few sleepless weeks, and a Rut that was cut short through sheer Beta intervention (“For Hextech, Jayce.” “Yeah, yeah, Our Hextech dream.”) Jayce found himself equal parts nervous and equal parts dreadinhatingscaredsickstressing of what was to come. Oh, and excited, he supposed. Yes, that was what he should focus on. That he was really excited to show the culmination of everything he and Viktor worked on

Going up on stage together,

As partners.

And show the world exactly what their dream, blood, sweat, and tears could accomplish together.

Jayce turned, seeing a crowd gathering before the prototype apparatus they built. It was hulking, but promising in containing the magical energy while powering an array of machinery of their own designs, and there were already a line of people just waiting for them to answer questions but—

Where was his partner?

Where did Viktor go? 

Viktor’s presence, or lack thereof, sent Jayce’s anxiety spiking immediately, and a protectiveness surged within him to ensure his partner hadn’t come to harm. Jayce excused himself from the judges, worry gnawing at his thoughts as he slipped through the crowds, calling Viktor’s name.

He ignored the whispers and stares, knowing that his presence there alone after being initially disgraced from the Council must have drawn curiosity and gossip mongers, 

And Jayce just hoped that Viktor didn’t get caught in the crossfire. 

But when Jayce found him, the sight was so—unexpected that he almost recoiled.

“Viktor…?” he asked tentatively. “Are you all right?”

Viktor, huddled in the dark, hugging himself, looking as small and fragile as can be, suddenly startled, clumsily trying to put himself upright before Jayce could witness any more. “I’m…I’m fine! A-Apologies, Jayce, I—”

He stumbled forward, the shakiness in his body causing him to almost collapse.

“Viktor!”

Jayce caught him, holding on to his partner’s smaller, thinner frame. Held against him like this, Jayce could feel just how much he was shaking. “I—I apologize, the–the crowd was much bigger than I—” he took in a gasp, knife-sharp that cut deep into Jayce’s chest as it came dangerously close to a sob. “I can’t—” he whispered, voice trembling, so different from his confident, brilliant partner. “I’m not—”

But…this was Viktor too. “Hey, hey…” Jayce gently cupped his cheek, brushing his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “It’s all right,” he murmured gently, trying to sound comforting, soothing,

Not at all fascinated by this rare show of vulnerability his headstrong partner was showing him.

“Did you—the apparatus and the carriage—”

“Yeah,” Jayce swallowed. He’d been watching him then. Watched as Jayce notched gears when the carriage started jostling their prototype. Watched as Jayce shrugged off his jacket and shirt from the blazing heat to work on ensuring their work’s safety. “Yeah, there weren't any issues.”

Jayce shouldn’t be thinking about that.

Shouldn’t be thinking of himself, preening himself at the knowledge his partner had been staring; not when Viktor was here, in his arms, looking so small he looked about ready to cave in on himself. 

“I…”

He was distressed.

Even with his light, mildly sweet scent, Jayce could find its bitterness bleeding into everything indicating that his partner was distressed. 

And Jayce couldn’t stand it. “Drink some water. There are some pastries over there—I’ll get you one, okay?”

“If I eat anything, I’ll just—” He looked green again, about ready to vomit.

Jayce held him. Rubbed his back as Viktor trembled. His partner needed him.

The Alpha in him stirred.

Purred in pleasure.

His mate needed his protection.

“I’ll go up there. I’ll talk to them, okay?” Jayce kept his voice even, even as his stomach churned at the thought of going up on that stage, after he’d been humiliated, blighted by the very city he sought to change with his dreams, his vision—

But Viktor was here, looking up at him with frightened, miserable eyes and Jayce’s partner, his Viktor, should never look that way, should never have to face something that made his particular, pedantic, and perfect partner look so small. “Jayce, I…”

Jayce held him in his arms, nuzzling softly at his neck, rumbling out in comfort and consoling. “It’s all right, Viktor.” Don’t look so upset, don’t look so disappointed in yourself. 

I want to take care of you.

“I’ll take care of it. You’ve already done so much for us.” 

None of this would have been possible without you. 

“I want to do this. For Hextech—for us.”

.

.

.

Viktor wondered just how far he’d fallen.

Things were so bright, once upon a time. Working side by side. Working in unison, in harmony.

But Jayce got a taste of the spotlight and he’d lost their vision completely.

Viktor wanted to deny it, of course he did, Jayce was his closest friend and possibly the only person he’d ever let close to his heart, despite the terrible pains it brought Viktor over the years.

Viktor slowed his steps as he approached the Hexgates, to where their research took off and with it, Jayce’s time and attention away from everything they sought to create together.

…strange.

There was usually a group of Enforcers patrolling the area, yet another hurdle for Viktor. He had simply hoped to bypass the issue with his identification—unless Jayce had gone so far as to banish his own partner and co-creator from their own work,

(But he’d done that already, hadn’t he?)

But there had been no one to stop him. No one to greet him or turn him away at the door. 

Viktor wasn’t allotted many blessings in his life. The ones he had, he had neither chance nor time to think twice about it.

He entered the building, the familiarity of the structure already clearing his mind and sharpening his focus. He didn’t know how much time he had here. He had to make every second count to make a compelling case,

To save his partnership,

And perhaps his life.

.

.

.

He thought he was learning Viktor.

He thought that Viktor had rebuffed his advances when he approached with traditional courting. Had thought that Viktor had no interest in displays of physical affection, had no attachment to traditional sentimentality, had no desire for banal sweetness and fancies of grandeur.

He thought Viktor a practical man with practical wants and with an impractical desire (shared by an equally impractical Jayce) to change this world for the better.

And so, Jayce courted him in that manner.

Courted him by sleepless nights in the lab; loved him through sharing his notes, new journals they filled out together (signing every collaborated page with JT + V at the end), finishing equations Viktor left on the board after sleep deprivation got the better of him; cared for him with a cup of sweet milk on his desk every morning,

And protected him, guarded him by suffering through every investor meeting, every gala, every press conference, braving the sea of judging faces, the whispers and cheers for progress, of condemnation—

He’d remembered being lost in a haze of his own darkness, an endless replay of the insults flung at him at the hearing, bartering and begging the Kirammans. His mind, running on fumes and desperation, in a doomed cycle of fabricating what ifs had he only kept his mouth shut and listened to Professor Heimerdinger, had he laid down before the Council and exposed his uselessness like a guileless fool—

It was laughable, for an Alpha. A Dominant, at that.

His nature deemed him a natural leader, defaulted him to positions of power and esteem and with scrutiny that he’d abuse it and would be ultimately deemed a threat.

But Jayce hadn’t wanted any of that.

Jayce thought he was finally doing this right. That he was taking care of Viktor the right way. Courting him the right way.

Maybe Jayce had it in his mind that if he showed Viktor that he could provide for their dream, protect Hextech (provide for Viktor, protect Viktor), then he’d be seen as a worthy Alpha, a worthy mate, and not just

Not just a partner.

But things had stagnated over time.

As Hextech became synonymous with Progress, with Piltover, making its mark on the map from all over Runeterra with the creation of the Hexgates,

Jayce became synonymous with Hextech. A Dominant Alpha of Piltover bearing a name, a House, and a title.

And where did that leave Viktor?

His name, scrubbed clean from papers, patents, presentations, invitations.

And Jayce was here, rotting in galas and fine wines while his partner, his mate in all the ways Jayce longed for that Viktor was unaware, his health deteriorating to the point of his spine and joints requiring braces, spending long hours in the lab and sleeping in that terrible cot that was even more terrible for his back,—

Jayce mentally added that to the never-ending list of things he needed to deal with.

Five years in,

Lingering touches,

Averted gazes,

Viktor wearing his scent,

But never scenting Jayce back,

Had he simply imagined it all?

Jayce tried to not to be too sullen at yet another ignored invitation, another dodged request, yet another denied proposal for Viktor to join him at a gala. A promotional event. A speech.

Anything.

“You should be up there with me. You’re my partner.”

“No…not in front of them.”

It was as if being around Jayce made something recoil within him. It was as if being seen near Jayce made him shrink further into the shadows where no one else could reach. Not even Jayce himself.

A part of Jayce despaired. The Dominant Alpha within him paced, growled, and demanded why he hadn’t made Viktor submit to him, why he felt ashamed to be around him, his claim, his courting—

Why Jayce had taken so long just for everything to run into dead end after dead end.

“Mr. Talis.” Mel Medarda greeted him, glamorous and gorgeous as ever, a flute of champagne in her hands. “How good to see you this evening.”

And maybe it would be this beta. That if this Beta wasn’t suited for him.

“Mel,” he greeted, downing the last of his drink, hoping it would sweeten his despair and finally, finally help him see what he might have been blind to all this time. “It’s just Jayce, you know that.”

Then maybe someone else would.

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

Viktor must have imagined it then.

The…tenderness. The affection. The lingering touches, averted gazes, Jayce covering him in his scent.

He denied it, of course. Hope wasn’t a thing with feathers, but a bitter beast with teeth and claws that hid behind soft warmth and aching familiarity. Viktor knew better, at least, he thought he did. Jayce might have hailed him as an equal, a partner, but,

No one else did.

A gala. A promotional event. A speech.

Where Viktor was ignored; sent little more than disinterested smiles or disgruntled looks at his presence. Even his contributions were dismissed, his name scrubbed clean from everything Viktor’s ever touched, ever created. Nothing at all like the presence Jayce projected. Nothing at all like the attention Jayce commanded. Nothing at all like charm and charisma an Alpha of Piltover exuded.

Jayce wanted Viktor by his side, but all it would do was make a mockery of them both; Viktor, an ugly stain, better to be ignored if it couldn’t be fixed, next to the shining Man of Progress, 

What use was Viktor there? His place was in the lab.

Jayce’s place was…

Among the Piltover elites. With the investors and Councilors.

He should have known. After all, what did Viktor have to offer in exchange?

Perhaps, his work. Perhaps, his intellect. Perhaps the long hours in a lab that Jayce never seems to have time for between promoting, courting investors, and most (least) of all,

Courting Councilor Mel Medarda.

Viktor tried to deny the blow it made to his chest, feeling his ribs emptied and hollowed out. 

This changed nothing.

It’s not like he was one for the rose and pearl.

Viktor shrugged off the soft blanket he’d kept wrapped around his shoulders. The one with Jayce’s fading scent. He returned it to Jayce’s chair as he sought to regain his focus on the one thing he was good for,

Knowing full well that Viktor had no right even dreaming.

He ignored the tickle at the back of his throat, the heaviness in his chest, and the creeping malaise in his body. Heartbreak ought to stay confined in his chest cavity.

or if your wish be to close me, i and
 my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
 as when the heart of this flower imagines
 the snow carefully everywhere descending;

In the beginning, Viktor thought his symptoms were the result of losing and longing and suffering and just dying a bit whenever Councilor Medarda came to their lab.

It was, in fact, simply just Viktor dying.

The feeling in his chest slowly grew, insidiously piercing the soft flesh there with thorns and nails and spikes, hollowing his bones and draining the color from his cheeks—

The Gray.

He coughed up little specks of red, so tiny on the pale of his palm but ran a deep, rosy color when he tried to wipe it off.

Jayce wasn’t there.

His absence echoed in the walls of their lab.

He was out at another gala. Another meeting with investors. He’d left an hour ago.

Viktor took a look around the lab. The impressive structure created at the base of the greatest achievement they’ve made thus far. The very achievement created to put Piltover on the map and did little more than fatten the wallets of Piltover’s economy,

While Zaun deteriorated.

Viktor held the first prototype of the Hexgemstone in his hand. They’d only just begun trying to achieve the first piece of their goals, of bringing Hextech in the hands of workers in the mines and fissures. To make their lives easier, safer. To bring Hextech to the common people, just as they’d always dreamed.

But along the way, their priorities shifted.

Jayce carved out a space for himself among the rich and powerful of Piltover, the genius Man of Progress,

While Viktor became…distracted. By what he once believed were shared endeavors. By blindly following Jayce’s lead in managing and selling Hextech to the socialites and entrepreneurs of Piltover.

By his feelings. By little impossibilities that he had no right aching for.

Viktor stopped Ms. Young, just before she left the hospital room to inform Jayce.

“It’s all right,” he gasped out, sitting up and removing the nasal cannula, a weak show of defiance. “There’s no reason to inform Jayce.”

And oh, how he loathed the pitying look Ms. Young gave him. “But…Viktor—”

“It doesn’t concern him,” Viktor said, feeling winded as he made a valiant albeit feeble attempt at standing from the hospital bed. “I am sure he has other matters to attend to.”

And maybe Jayce would understand. Maybe he wouldn’t.

And maybe Viktor wasn’t ready to give yet another vulnerable, bleeding part of him to Jayce yet. Not when he’d just received his prognosis himself.

Not when there was work to be done. Not when he was the one racing against the clock.

.

.

.

The lab doors were wide open. The typical rotation of Enforcers he’d hired to guard the gates of the lab (and to inform Jayce immediately if Viktor had arrived unattended by him specifically) were—

Occupied, at the moment.

Likely attempting to untangle and unravel the onslaught of cruel and unusual schemes his partner utilized to sneak his way inside.

Distantly, Jayce thought maybe Viktor would enjoy another lab in their home. All his projects supervised by Jayce of course, locked up for the night with only supervised access at all times,

Or even just a slab of metal for enrichment for him to practice more intricate engravings, showcasing the Hexclaw.

He’d been practicing that sketch of Professor Heimerdinger for weeks for their upcoming product introduction.

But indulging him,

Indulging this,

Had been part of the problem, hadn’t it? Jayce had begged, pleaded with Viktor and accommodated him as much as he safely could given his condition, and he acted out like this? Lashed out,

Like this?

He and Viktor had always fit perfectly together, the teeth of his cogs meshing with Jayce’s. Why is it so different now? Why did their wants suddenly diverge?

Were they truly so incompatible this way—

Jayce shook his head, hastening his steps. His control was slipping right between his fingers. Viktor was slipping right between his fingers.

.

.

.

It was always a dangerous thing when Mel opened a conversation with compliments. 

“I admire you, Jayce.” Even more so when she’d lead him to a secluded location with that charm of hers, devoid of her usual warmth and teasing. Right. It was either for business, “For your innovation. For your brilliance. For your kindness—”

Or something else entirely. Jayce had long learned it was among her arsenal of traps, bewitching and bewildering others to catch them off-guard. “Are you breaking up with me?” Jayce joked. He was swiftly silenced by Mel’s averted gaze. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh,” she sighed, leaning against the balcony.

The moon shone bright between them, and Jayce felt himself lost at the admission. Or perhaps, that was simply the mask he chose to cover the fact that despite the hollow pit in his stomach, there was not much else he felt at all.

“You are all what I said and more, Jayce,” Mel said, drawing his eyes from the waning crescent hung in the sky. Bright tones of gold, as gorgeous and radiant as the sun itself. “But where you and I differ, is your conviction.”

Jayce huffed out a laugh, startled by—the sheer absurdity. “My—my conviction?” He shook his head. He had no idea where she’d even gathered the gall to speak of such. After all, Mel had been front and center of the very trial where Jayce nearly lost everything, and now stood at her side, the Man of Progress. “You and I were together for—for months, known each other for years before then. And you think it’s not working out because of my conviction?” He snorted, feeling the sting of pride more than the hurt of the sudden severance of their relationship. “You know, a simple goodbye would have sufficed—”

“It’s Viktor, isn’t it?”

That was what Jayce both admired and was cautious about Mel.

Despite her diplomatic nature, her command and grace, she was ever a Warlord’s daughter.

She’d simply traded blades for words as her weapons of choice. Her words, simple—cruel. To the point.

Cutting, aimed lethally,

Straight to the chase.

Her eyes narrowed. “The one you’ve been pining for. The one you gave up on halfway through.”

There was an accusation there.

If Jayce had the heart and time, he’d parse through her words and identify where he’d aimed his affections like a weapon too,

And struck just as cruelly when they’d both known his heart had laid elsewhere.

“I didn’t give up on him,” Jayce insisted, knowing it would be futile to deny his feelings altogether. “I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and really wishing he weren’t having this conversation right now. “He didn’t share…” Not with Mel. Anyone but Mel. “He didn’t feel the same way.”

Especially knowing he’d hurt her.

He cared about her,

And he hurt her.

“Are you certain of that?” Mel asked, demanded.

At the very least, it seemed like Mel was just as determined to put salt on the exit wound. “You don’t think I’ve been trying, Mel?” he hissed, feeling equal parts mortified and equal parts foolish. “For years?”

Mel raised a brow., the same way she did whenever Jayce waffled around a deal, a negotiation, hemmed and hawed and looked at it from all the wrong angles, needing a Councilor’s touch and industrialist’s eyes. “And yet. He doesn’t bare your mark. Your bond. Your collar.” Jayce flinched, Mel listing his shortcomings as coldly as if ticking off shortages on a ledger “He hasn’t scented you in return, though he constantly bears your scent claim.”

Jayce remained silent in this scathing performance review.

“In Noxus, strength is everything. Strength of power, strength of mind, strength of heart.” And before Jayce was no longer the woman he’d shared his heart with (a piece of it, selfishly, he’d always held on to too much, knowing it was meant for another), the woman that helped get his dreams off the ground with her support and investments, the wealthiest woman in Piltover and Councilwoman,

Who stood before him was a tactician, and commanding officer, examining the flaws of his strategies “You’ve wavered.” Her words burned with disappointment.

Jayce gritted his teeth. “I already told you—”

“You disappoint me, Jayce,” she said, words digging even deeper into the soft, vulnerable flesh of his heart. “It is one thing to face the humiliation of learning this, it is even more so to learn that you hadn’t even the courage to try. If you want him, earn him.”

In a scathing way,

This was Mel giving her support. It was particularly brutal and blunt, but it was her support, nevertheless. Even if she were masking her true feelings of the matter with bleeding pride,

Jayce could find no hatred in her eyes. Irritation, maybe. And disgust, yes. “Give us both some honor and learn to ask for what you want and take what’s yours instead of second-guessing.”

When you’re going to change the world, don’t ask for permission.

But Mel presented her faith in him. Even when Jayce didn’t fully believe it himself. “And if you’re wrong?” he quietly asked. “If I’m wrong?”

It could all go sideways.

Viktor wasn’t just his coworker, he was half of Hextech and—yes, half of Jayce’s heart. The other half that Jayce had been far too much of a coward to ever fully surrender to Mel.

And somehow, Mel understood.

Understood as they stood beneath the moon together, her farewell, parting words, and advice to Jayce diplomatically and deftly melded into one:

“Sometimes, the circumstances necessitate to seek forgiveness rather than permission.”

.

.

.

“I just wanted to give magic to the world.”

“That’s rather broad for a mission statement. But…maybe, just maybe, we could. We could bring magic to everyone. Unite us to make progress together as one.” Viktor chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be something?

To bring Hextech to the hands of all people.”

“…Who are you?” Viktor asked.

A girl—a young woman— with wild blue hair in braids that nearly fell to the floor, tilted her head, her gaze staring right past him. Contemplating. Deliberating.

Listening?

Then she giggled. Then cackled: a spell broken between them as she suddenly stood, animated and amused right in front of him. “Whoops, you weren’t supposed to be here!” 

That makes two of us.

Viktor shifted uneasily at the—Zaunite in front of him. She rounded on him, circling him with wide, blue eyes, a gun strapped to her hip as she languidly, playfully, tossed the Hexgemstone into the air and catching it in rhythmic motion. “Word on the street was that Mister Man of Progress went cuckoo and got hitched with his lab assistant and left this place abandoned.”

Viktor grimaced. So—

It was true, then. Their engagement had been made public. Their research has crawled to a halt.

All by Jayce’s command. “You need to leave. Immediately.” Viktor gritted his teeth as the young woman rolled her eyes, giving a disparaging giggle. “You don’t have much time—” he persisted, eyes widening as the woman feigned almost dropping the Hexgemstone between her fingers. “And give that back! That material is still undergoing full testing to ensure proper safety and—”

Her eyes brightened, bringing an almost manic glow to them. “Oh? Ohohohoho…you’re him, aren’t ya?” Her lips curled to a grin as her gaze flickered to the collar on his neck. “So, the Man of Progress got himself a little Zaun bride—”

There was no denying it now. 

“Jayce is coming. To the lab. Likely to find me.” Viktor gripped the handle of his crutch as he pleaded. “Whether you’re working for the Chembarons, Silco or the Firelights, it’s not important right now.” Viktor kept glancing behind him, half-expecting Jayce to come barreling through the door at any moment. “What matters is…is that I am working to get those gemstones to Zaun. We are working to get Hextech to the hands of the people.”

Because that was what all Zaunites truly craved, wasn’t it?

Whether it was the Chembarons’ greed,

Silco’s lust for power,

Or the Firelight’s pursuit of peace amid the chaos and corruption in their ‘Undercity,’

It all came down to survival. And the different interpretations of it. “They’re meant for all of us—Zaunites, Piltovans—”

Her laughter ricocheted within the empty space of the lab. “You know that’s a load of shit, right?”

Viktor winced. He wanted to argue, he’d had the same arguments with Jayce in the past—

Sponsorships. Investors. Backing. Stockholders.

The necessary evils they courted for even an ounce of possibility. Building the Hexgates to fulfill that promise of expanding economic growth and Piltover’s wealth,

While Zaun continued to crumble before Viktor’s eyes.

Viktor understood the system he was enmeshed in. He also understood that right now, in front of a Zaunite looking at their lab, built within the Hexgates, the towering presence of Piltover’s iniquity, 

That he was an active participant in. All in the name of progress. “I wouldn’t be risking my life. Everything that I am, everything that I have suffered for, if I didn’t believe in it.”

“Then why come up here?” she challenged, tossing the gemstone high in the air and catching it with amble ease, despite the way it made Viktor’s insides curl with anxiety. “Why are you sitting in your cushy little lab instead of actually doing something down where it matters.”

“I am, that’s why I’m—“

“Pfft. Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Hoping it just trickles down? Like the rest of Topside’s runoff?”

Viktor sighed. At the heart of it, Viktor understood. The longer they ignored Zaun’s flares of violence, treating it as commonplace of a condemned and damned spit of land instead of treating it as a cry for change, the more ruinous the disparity between the two cities.

There would be no bridging it through words.

After all, Viktor always left the speeches up to Jayce.

“If you don’t want to take my word for it…why don’t I show you?” Viktor turned, knowing it was both horrifically foolish and stubbornly naïve of him to turn his back against an intruder as he hobbled towards his workstation. “You’re interested in stealing highly experimental technological products, then I must believe, in good faith, that you have a vested interest in our line of work.” Viktor unraveled the blueprints while laying the Hexclaw on the table. “What is your background, Miss—what’s your name?”

Hesitation. “…Doesn’t matter.”

Yet a small step forward.

That was all Viktor needed. He turned back to his work, powering up the Hexclaw for demonstration. “…Miss Doesn’t Matter, then. How adept is your knowledge of circuitry?”

.

.

.

“Is…everything all right, Viktor?” Jayce shifted uneasily as he squinted in the dark room.

Viktor had been…particularly inspired these past few months. That much hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jayce. Designs and blueprints were strewn across the lab tables, a stark difference from his meticulous partner’s usual fashion.

The past few months had strained their relationship—that much Jayce was aware. A part of it, Jayce was well aware, was his own cowardice of facing Viktor while he was courting Mel. But a part of Jayce too, found Viktor keeping more than silence between them. They weren’t quite walls that Viktor built around him, but something softer, something furling over Viktor protectively, enough to obscure what was happening beneath, but not so impenetrable that Jayce couldn’t reach out to him.

Wretchedly, the observation that this silence and distance grew from his time with Mel, Jayce wondered if their time apart fostered seeds of jealousy that confirmed his suspicions and his hopes. 

But that wasn’t all.

Viktor throwing himself into his work was one thing, however; but the unnatural pallor of his cheeks, the slowing of his steps, and gasps in his breath were something else altogether.

Viktor looked up from his position, poring over detailed notes and hand-painted diagrams, and Jayce could trace the sleeplessness beneath his eyes.

“Fine, Jayce. Another late night, that’s all.”

That’s not all.

The voice of your eyes tells me otherwise,

But you’re not ready to tell me,

Not anymore.

Something in Viktor had closed itself to Jayce in the past months, but as Viktor passed the designs to him the latest of his countless innovations, Jayce held hope in his heart that he could change things, make them right again.

No, better than right.

Make them how they were meant to be all this time.

“This—this is brilliant, Viktor! With the potential stabilization, we can go on to really test the Hexgemstones and get started with the next phase of Hextech—”

Viktor nodded, a tired smile on his face as his body swayed from Jayce’s enthusiastic clap on his shoulder. “…To bring Hextech to the hands of all people.” He gave a laugh (and Jayce pretended that it didn’t break his heart hearing it; having gone too long without hearing it). “I wonder what new merchandise this grand reveal will spawn of you this time.”

Something turned in Jayce’s stomach at that. “I mean…you were at the core of the stabilization process. Maybe they’ll make matching mugs of us!”

Viktor scoffed and Jayce found he had little to add to that.

Outwardly, it wasn’t a sore point for Viktor—not anymore. He claimed it was to Hextech’s benefit that matters of scientific discovery were left untouched by political dispute. In other words, he was willing to sacrifice the erasure of his name, his legacy, and his contributions, all to pacify investors. Viktor had the opportunity and honor to invent for Hextech, to build and create and discover technological and engineering feats previously unknown. He’d maintained that as long as their contributions reached the common people, he’d be satisfied with leaving the speeches and parties and merchandise to Jayce.

But that wasn’t enough.

Not for Jayce.

Not when Jayce found Viktor here, at the hours of dawn, foregoing sleep and likely adequate nutritional intake to finish his notes alone, to push their dream forward. When he’d been at the helm alongside Jayce in every step of creating the Hexgates, the very invention that placed Piltover on the map, only to have the submitted proposals remove his contributions, leaving Jayce as its sole designer.

Time and time again.

Jayce laid his hand on Viktor’s thin shoulder. “You should get first authorship,” he said. “This time around.”

It was an old promise that had still yet to happen.

Viktor shrugged out of Jayce’s touch. “Sure. One day.”

One day.

Jayce found himself looking at Piltover and its antiquated designs and found there was if there was one thing they would bend to,

It was tradition,

Wrapped in a letter of red and declared in scarlet ink.

“VIKTOR!?”

Viktor was broken from his thoughts by a scream cutting through the air. Jayce. Reflexively, Viktor sought to respond, to calm his friend and reassure him that he was fine—

“VIKTOR— VIKTOR!” 

Viktor felt his throat close, collapsing the air in his chest as a primordial, instinctive fear crept through him. He tried to wave it off. He peeked behind the trunk of the tree he’d rested against, fully intending to call out to Jayce, make his presence known, tell him he’d scouted ahead and found a shortcut. Viktor was a man of logic and science, this was his partner, his partner who was obviously worried and believed the worst to have befallen him, and—

“VIKTOR.”

He sounded utterly infuriated. Viktor watched as Jayce strode to where he sat, the Hexclaw taken apart into its bare components,

As a shadow slipped to the far corner of the room, as Viktor kept Jayce’s eyes on his (trembling) form.

“Hello, Jayce!” He feigned a clumsy chuckle. “Oh. There’s my notebook! I was looking for this all over the place—”

“Viktor.”

The air grew heavy around him, and Viktor, against himself, already felt it difficult to deny the instinctive demand to submit.

Viktor cast his gaze to the side,

The prototype Hexgemstones back in their place. It was a magnanimous feat, breaking free of Jayce’s gaze, his influence, his control,

His fucking pheromones.

Gingerly, Viktor closed the safe. He reset the passcode. “I was simply performing a routine assessment on the Hexclaw. Our review with the Professor is fast approaching.”

Jayce remained quiet and his silence, above all else, terrified Viktor the most. Viktor gave a hard swallow. “I…also have something to show you. I was making observations on how its stable form provided a continuous energy to a solitary rune, or circuit in our case, but what if it could do more?”

Please,

Please.

Just listen.

“I’ve been developing this theory for some time—the expansion of what Hextech could be capable of!” Viktor opened a page of his notes, laying out the design and loose-leaf pages inscribing detailed theorems and mechanisms in a proud display. “All this time we’ve been limiting ourselves, bound by these single function combinations. But what if we could find a way to utilize Hextech more freely, like Mages can—a mechanism that could alter its function, adapt to its language, adjust to the needs of the one who wields it—it could revolutionize the way we—”

“Come home, Viktor.”

Viktor froze. His heart sank to the pit he carved in his stomach.

It was just as he’d thought.

No matter how much Viktor didn’t want to admit it.

Didn’t want to see it.

“Let’s go.”

His vision blurred. He half-feared he was about to collapse from exhaustion, from heartbreak, and from illness; the other half feared it was from tears. “This is my lab too,” he hissed. “My work, too. You cannot tell me that I don’t have a right to be here—”

How—

“I’m your partner, Jayce.”

How did it come to this?

Jayce turned away from him. “…I’m waiting.”

It was the dismissal that broke something in Viktor.

And Jayce continued to keep his gaze from Viktor. Was it because he felt as though—as something Jayce now owned, Viktor had no right to it? Or was it the weight of his words, the weight of his betrayal, that didn’t—couldn’t allow him to meet Viktor’s gaze.

Despite it all.

“It’s your choice, Viktor,” he said, even though they both knew that there wasn’t really a choice at all.

Viktor took a steady step forward, despite how his legs feel weighed down with lead.

The path before him stretched and stretched, near-endlessly as Viktor lumbered along, drawing a silent stare from the unseen onlooker in the shadows. His vision began to blur and his legs began to wobble.

Jayce took him by the hand, took him by the heart, his grip like a vice, his love just as entrapping.

“I’m doing this for you,” Jayce murmured, as if to absolve his own guilt. His own shame.

To justify his own callous, cruel behavior as Viktor fell into step with him, leaving the lab, and leaving a cherished partnership to lay in fragments, in ruins.

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
 and opens; only something in me understands
 the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
 nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

“I’m not used to working with a partner.”

That much Jayce could admit. Magic was a near-forbidden topic for those all of Piltover, especially in high society. Jayce had ambitions that seemed too great, too daunting for where he was, especially now,

Just barely clawing himself out of the hole he’d landed in after the explosion, after his expulsion, after his—

Exposure.

It was a perspective that trickled down from the city creator’s own bias, from accounts of how magic had shaped and ruined much of Runeterra’s history.

Nothing at all what Jayce had witnessed. Had seen with his own eyes. Had saved his life and his mother’s. Had shaped his dreams and future in a single moment.

It was different sharing something so personal to him with another—not when all his life, Jayce was mocked, teased, and discouraged from broaching the topic outside of his mother’s own indulgences at home.

Different…but not difficult. Not when it came to Viktor.

As long as Viktor wasn’t willfully testing Jayce’s boundaries. “That much is certain,” he said, continuing to scan the pages despite Jayce’s irritation. “You’ve kept this project to yourself for years.”

Safeguarding it, jealously hoarding it. It went unsaid, but Viktor’s eyes didn’t share his silence.

But his words were laden with something not-quite like sympathy. “It was necessary, given what others might see when they lack your perspective, the crux of your research.”

Not like you, Jayce thought. You understood.

You believed,

In me. Viktor nodded, handing Jayce back his notebook. “I understand keeping oneself…guarded.”

It wasn’t quite an apology, something veering off from a compromise. “Maybe that’s why we work so well together.”

Maybe it was collaboration.

“I don’t have one, by the way,” Viktor said, resuming his scribbles in his own loose-leaf pages. “A last name, “ he elaborated.

 “O-Oh?” Jayce said, voice tight.

You can have mine—

“It’s not too common in Zaun. In the…Undercity.” His new partner shrugged, imparting information so personal, so sacred, that Jayce would have scribbled it down that very second if Viktor weren’t still talking to him, holding his gaze, his attention, so effortlessly.

“It’s just Viktor.”

.

.

.

interlude

“Where have you been?”

Silco could barely see the telltale leg, lazily swinging back and forth as Jinx rested above the rafters.

“Oh, yanno…Around…”

He sighed, leaning against his office chair to get a better view. “Were you seen?” She sounded distracted.

“Nope.”

That meant she was toying, tinkering, or both up there.

“Did you break anything?” he asked flatly.

Her laugh echoed through the empty space, the playful nature distorting to something cruel and mocking. “Only into a top-secret lab…”

Silco barely reacted as her face came inches from his view, hanging topsy-turvy as her braids fell in messy ropes all over his desk. “And a heart or two,” she sang, mightily pleased with herself.

“And?” he pressed, fingers steepled together. “Have you anything to show for it?”

“Maybe,” she cackled, clearly keeping a journal just barely hidden from view. “But I think I found something…someone way more…interesting.”