Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Jayce had ever received a free drink at the club from a stranger, it was a nice surprise.

He was at Topside, an exclusive lounge down the street from Piltover State University. It’s always bustling with throngs of people on Friday nights. Named one of the few places where, no matter where you are from – Piltover, Noxus, Zaun, wherever – you could feel like you belong in the high-class society of one of the top-rated elite universities in Runeterra. 

And the half-priced green tea shots on Fridays were also a pretty neat incentive for you to waste your money.

Vi had reserved a table and top-shelf bottle service months ago when she and Cait finally pried out of Jayce what he wanted to do for his birthday. His twenty-fifth birthday, to be exact. 

A quarter of a century, and all he wanted to do was stay home, order take-out, and play video games until the sun rose the next day. It’s the one day he allowed himself to do so, as any other day was dedicated to his rigorous study schedule. 

Jayce really did not want to make it a big deal. It’s a birthday. He’s had twenty-four of them, and he’ll hopefully have many more. He’ll just entertain Caitlyn and Vi for a few hours and go home before midnight, he thought.

But when they confidently walked into Topside, and the bartenders brought him a bottle of Smirnoff Ice and danced around with sparklers while he got on his knees and chugged, he lost all hope of it being a “chill night with his favorite lesbian couple” like Vi claimed it would be.

Fat fucking chance.

An hour and a half into being there, Jayce was a Smirnoff Ice, two green tea shots in, and a free Cosmopolitan, riding on a fuzzy cloud of bliss. 

When he received a free drink a second time that night (from the same man who bought him the first one), it was still just as nice, if not better, than the first time. 

It began to raise suspicions, though. The motives – unclear. But then again, free drinks? What’s an in-debt graduate student like himself supposed to do when offered free things on his birthday other than say hell yeah?

Jayce gave the waiter who brought it to him a very hefty tip and drank that second Cosmo to its very last drop. When he caught eyes with the man who had bought him the drink – the slim, ash-brown-haired man with beautiful blonde highlights sitting by the barside – he raised the last of it in the air as a toast and tossed it back. 

The other does the same with his own drink, a charismatic smile pulled on his lips. Jayce was too far in to even care about the sticky liquid that trickled over his chin and down his neck as he chugged. He did, however, take in the fact that the man by the bar looked thoroughly pleased, which is why Jayce assumed he had bought him another drink. 

Twenty minutes later, the waiter appears out of thin air and places the fresh glass in front of Jayce. He swallows down the saliva collecting in his mouth as he stares into the cloudy pink liquid. 

Another Cosmopolitan. 

“Pretty boy over there bought you another drink?” Vi snorts. She had just taken down the last half of her ale like a champ, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She slides the empty mug across the table to the collection of other finished glasses dripping with condensation. “Well, ain’t he persistent. You know, if I were you, I wouldn’t let his advances go unnoticed. Drinks are pretty expensive nowadays.”

“Everyone knows Jayce is the center of attention right now, Vi,” Caitlyn interjects, swirling her wine glass in a circle on the table. Her eyes slide to Jayce with an arched brow. “They made him stand on the table and bang on his chest like a gorilla.”

“That was actually voluntary,” Jayce adds before picking up his glass.

Cait rolls her eyes back to her white wine. “Maybe he just wants to weasel his way into getting his hands on some free bottle service.”

Jayce hesitates as he holds it to his lips before tipping it back and finishing it in four big gulps. Vi hoots. Cait whistles. He drops the glass back on the table with a shake of his head. The liquor lingers at the back of his throat, and he tries to swallow it down as they continue their conversation about him and his so-called secret admirer without him.

It’s becoming easier with each drink to down them. He’s got to take a break. For now, at least, while he still has his stomach intact. 

“He would have done that by now. He’s obviously waiting for birthday boy here to make the next move.” Vi rolls her eyes before scooting closer to her blue-haired girlfriend. She throws her arm around Cait’s shoulder, giving it a gentle caress as she talks low and slow near her ear. “Cait, baby, when are you going to admit that my gay-dar is far superior to yours?”

Caitlyn is about to protest when Jayce nearly chokes up his drink. “Wait, wait, wait. Gay-dar? You think he’s gay?” 

Vi darts her head to him as if he interrupted their conversation. “No, I think he’s a serial killer and you’re his next victim.” She blinks a few times before finally exclaiming, “Yes, dude, he’s gay. He bought you three drinks! He’s clearly trying to get your attention.”

Jayce takes a chance and turns to look back at the pair of eyes that have not left his back all night. When the man captures Jayce’s gaze again, he straightens his spine and ever so slightly arches his brow. There’s a particular gleam in his eyes as they shift from the color of Vi’s half-empty beer to the dark whiskey bottle sitting on the shelf behind him. 

Jayce realizes he’s been staring for far too long to go unnoticed when the man tips his chin up, a welcoming, a summoning that needs no words. Shit. He turns back to the girls, scoffing as a warm rush of goosebumps trails down his spine.

“No way.” Jayce laughs nervously, settling back into his seat as both Vi and Cait raise their brows at him. He waves his hand between the two before crossing his arms. “He wouldn’t take the chance. I’m sitting with you guys.” 

Vi leans forward, dropping her elbow to the glass tabletop. “First off, cocky of you think I would be interested in…” She looks him up and down with the wave of her finger. “You. And two, you are sitting with two women who are very obviously your lesbian best friends. He has no competition.”

Jayce scoffs, personally offended by both statements. “There is plenty of competition! I pull girls!”

“Piltover State’s ASB president? She doesn’t count,” Vi deadpans. “You pined after her until you found out she had a sugar mommy and just wanted to hook up. Now you go to her apartment when you need someone to cuddle.”

“Yeah,” Jayce shrugs, “and now Mel and I are just good friends who do things that couples do. I pulled something at least.”

“Yeah, you pull on my nerves. Gods, I hate straight people.” Vi turns her head to Cait, who meets her with the same amused expression. “Should we just start making out in front of Gay-Lord over there so he knows this guy is open?”

“No!” 

Cait rolls her head back to Jayce and sighs. “It’s your birthday, Jayce. Your twenty-fifth birthday. Your prefrontal cortex is supposedly fully developed. Change is upon you! Now is the perfect time to be taking chances. You know, broaden your horizons.”

“‘Broadening my horizons’,” Jayce mocks, “is something I should have been doing four birthdays ago.”

“Well, you’re a late bloomer.” She shrugs, a teasing smirk pulling on her lips. “Now stop talking to your two lesbros, get off your ass,” she waves her hands to shoo him away, “and go talk to that pretty boy by the bar. Gay or not, don’t leave him hanging. The least you can do is say thank you.”

Jayce stares between his two friends for a beat until they give him another nudge.

“He’s not gay,” he insists. But now, he’s not too sure about it himself.

“Right, and neither are we,” Caitlyn says, rolling her eyes. “Now get out of here before Vi starts getting handsy.”

Jayce grimaces before staring daggers at his friends. If everything they said is true, and this handsome stranger by the bar is in fact gay… 

No, he just wanted to send him drinks! It’s his birthday, anyway. 

So she’s right. The least he can do is say thank you. 

Jayce pushes himself out of his chair, the stool scraping across the linoleum floor behind him. There’s a silent conversation with looks between Cait and Jayce, something they’ve picked up over the years of being family friends. She passes the last bit of her Chardonnay off to him, and he finishes it for her in one quick swig. Just to top off the liquid courage. He pushes the empty glass over with the others to be picked up.

He uses the mirror hanging on the wall behind the booth to fix the proper part of his hair and pulls on the ends of his cream button-down to straighten it out and tuck it back into his pants. With a reassuring smile, Cait and Vi wave him off as he turns to thread through the crowd to get to the bar.

Vi hollers obnoxiously before the music can deafen her voice, “See if he’ll get us another round while you’re at it!”

Jayce whips his head back to his table, blazing warmth lighting up his cheeks when he catches Vi pushing the tips of her pointer fingers together, and— oh my fucking god. Heat blazes on his face. He flashes a snarky smile and a very special hand gesture back at the cackling berry-haired girl before turning away again. 

As he pushes through the crowd of people mingling on the dance floor, eyes dead set on the man lounging by the bar, he takes a deep breath to gather his bearings. 

He needs to relax. He’s just going to talk to the guy. Have a simple man-to-man, bro-to-bro conversation, like he and Vi. Just two dudes chatting. At a bar. With a man who’s been giving him sultry eyes all night. He’s not asking him to fuck. 

Because that isn’t what buying someone three drinks means… right?

Right?

Even at twenty-five, Jayce doesn’t feel like his prefrontal cortex is fully developed. 

When he reaches the bar, there’s only one seat open — one over from the man. He swipes it before anyone else can. He leans forward to rest his forearms on the counter when his sleeves land in a puddle of lingering condensation. He shivers, pulling back and wiping the water off his arms in disgust. But he quickly dismisses it to turn his attention to the side.

The man, either pretending to ignore him or truly aware of the attention, sits with his back to the bar, legs crossed in front of him as he leans one arm against the counter behind him. His hooded eyes scan the crowd with a tiny, amused smile, observing drunkards slinking around on the dance floor and sweaty couples sloppily grinding against each other. 

Jayce traces his face as he looks amongst the crowd, taking in the beautiful, delicate features — the gentle blush and highlights to his high cheekbones, the beauty marks under his eye and above his lip, and the faint curl to the corners of his mouth. 

He lets his eyes wander further, over his slim figure. He takes in his attire — the satin purple blouse that hangs loosely off of his frame, tucked into black slacks, with finely polished dress shoes to pull the whole look together. Along with that, the sharp but subtle eyeliner drawn over his eyelids, and the half-up ponytail, he’s fit for the occasion here.

The person who once stood between them, a bubbly and energetic blonde girl, takes her leave, giving Jayce a better look at the man. And also leaving the spot next to the other one up for grabs. He slides one seat over without hesitation and positions his body to mimic the man’s. After a moment, Jayce faces him and opens his mouth to speak.

“It’s about time,” the man says.

Jayce, caught off guard, holds his breath for a moment. He drinks in the sound of his rich accent, and how just those three words were enough to raise goosebumps over his skin. Talking might be harder than it seems.

He chuckles through his nose, despite his nerves running haywire. “Three drinks?” 

“Eh, you didn’t answer after the first or the second.” The man shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he rolls his head to the side. Jayce catches a glimpse of those deep amber eyes up close, and he can’t seem to tear his gaze away. “It seems the third time’s the charm.” 

“I’m not used to having drinks bought for me. Or…” He looks around as he gestures to everything around him — the flashing lights, the heavy music, the colorful fog. And he can’t forget the soggy sleeves, the sour taste of Vodka sitting at the back of his throat, and the half-naked people on the dance floor. “All of this, really. I’m not one for Piltover’s nightlife.”

The other scoffs, but it’s void of anything rude. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Which part?”

“Not having anyone buy you drinks,” he says, almost surprised. He quirks an eyebrow at Jayce. “Not being one for the nightlife, eh, I can see that. But you’ve seriously never had someone buy drinks for you?”

“No.” Jayce tips his head down shyly. “Is that a bad thing?”

The man’s eyes rake over Jayce’s body, taking his time picking and pulling apart every little detail about his appearance. Jayce has suddenly become very aware of everything touching his body, including those eyes. 

The other looks back at the entertaining crowd. “I suppose not.”

Jayce settles back into his seat. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Viktor. And yours?”

“Jayce.” He flashes Viktor a charming smile. “So, Viktor, do you just hang out here by the bar, buying drinks for everyone but yourself?”

“If you suggest I should be on the dance floor…” Viktor reveals the cane resting at his hip, thrumming his fingers on the gold-capped handle. “This might make it a little difficult.” 

Jayce stiffens. He did not see that before. Maybe this is a really good reason why Jayce doesn’t talk to strangers. “No! No, I didn’t mean…” Great. He’s blowing it.

Viktor smirks. “Relax, Jayce. Maybe I should buy you something a little stronger to get you to loosen up those big muscles of yours.”

Jayce sighs heavily, much too occupied with his embarrassment to notice his use of words. “Allow me to return the gesture.”

The bartender, shuffling across the barline, finally makes his way toward the two at the end of the bar. He takes down their orders on Vi’s tab (birthday privileges) – Jayce a beer, and Viktor an Espresso Martini – and hustles back down to make their drinks. 

They sit side by side in silence for a moment, when Jayce looks to his side. He finds Viktor’s eyes still haven’t left his face or his lips. He sucks in a deep breath as the bartender returns with their drinks. The pungent smell of the beer is catching up to him, and he tries to hide the grimace he makes as he takes a sip and swallows.

“What are you here for?” He asks with his lips inches from the rim of his beer mug. “With friends or…?”

Viktor doesn’t look back at him as he says, “Same reason everyone else is. Your birthday, of course.”

His heart drops. He pulls his mug away from his mouth. “Wait. Really? Vi didn’t tell me–”

Viktor looks at him, his thin eyes widened for a moment. A small smirk graces his lips as he raises his brows in humor. “Kidding, Jayce.” 

Jayce shakes his head. He drags a hand over his face as he chuckles with him. “Ha, right. Sorry. I’m just a little…–”

“Inebriated?”

“Yes,” he huffs. 

Viktor hums, a smile pulling on his lips. “Well, if you should know, my friend told me that I need to spend more time away from school. Says I need to, eh, keep myself occupied with something else than lab work at the university. Seems I picked the right night to come out and waste my time and money.”

Jayce hums in response, turning in his seat to face Viktor. “Seems so. Mind if I waste my time and money with you, then?” He grins, earning a harsh chuckle from Viktor. 

“I’d be an idiot to deny the presence of King Kong.”

He groans, rolling his eyes. “Eugh. You saw that back there?”

Viktor lets out a boisterous laugh as he, too, turns to Jayce. “Everyone saw that. You were quite loud. I think even the drunkards in the alleyway knew it was your birthday.”

He winces and turns his glass around to occupy his hands. “Yeah, well, all it takes is a little liquid courage, and you can do anything you put your mind to. So, cheers,” he says flatly as he raises his glass and brings it to his lips.

“I wonder what else you can do with a little liquid courage.”

Jayce chokes on his drink. He whips his head to Viktor, only to find his eyes watching the tendrils of coffee brown liquid dance in his drink before sipping without a care in the world. 

He stays by Viktor’s side for the next hour and a half. They rack up two more empty glasses behind them as they sit at the bar, conversing about anything and absolutely everything.

He finds out Viktor goes to PSU. He’s twenty-six. He’s studying in the Biomechanical Engineering master’s program. He moved to Piltover seven years ago from some foreign country, Jayce couldn’t remember the name of it now, as a part of a study abroad program during his sophomore year of college, and just never left. Loved it so much, he said, that he stayed despite his family back home waiting for his return.

They found out they just so happened to take the same class together four semesters ago, Systematic Engineering, and both came out at the top of the class out of ninety other students. Both were too occupied with their studies to pay any mind to the other. 

They’re also homebodies with friends who tell them they can’t stay in and study for a hobby. 

He makes Viktor laugh, and Viktor makes him laugh even harder. 

Viktor is easily one of the most interesting individuals he’s had the pleasure of talking to. Well spoken, eloquent, with a charming sense of humor that Jayce is slowly beginning to understand.

After enough time at the bar, they find a booth on the exact opposite side from where Caitlyn and Vi would be sitting, hiding away in the corner. And while everyone is either on the dance floor shaking ass and kissing strangers, or at the bar taking more shots and making toasts, they’re in the shadows, drunkenly making eye contact, brushing fingertips, and making fun of everyone around them.

Jayce has long forgotten about his friends at the reserved table. At the same time, he can’t stop thinking about everything they had said before he left.

Vi might be right about Viktor.

Fuck, Vi might be right and Jayce refuses to tell her. He can’t. It’d go straight to her head. It would become the only thing he heard for a week.

Because that’s exactly what happened last time he told her she was right. 

It was over something stupid — whether or not Professor Heimerdinger had been a professional bodybuilder before becoming head of the Biological Sciences department at PSU. Jayce claimed it was all fake, a rumor some graduate students made just for the fun of it. A senior prank. Vi claimed it to be real. 

She found the evidence from a magazine dating back twenty-two years ago and rubbed it in his face for months. Months! That didn’t even have to do with him, and she still taunted him with it. He can’t stand to live with that kind of defeat. 

This is different, though. Maybe deep down, like really deep down in the depths of Jayce's consciousness, he knew all along. His eyes. His body language. His voice. Gods, his voice . But of course, Jayce is too in his fucking head to admit it, and he wasn’t sure why. Uncertainty? Embarrassment? 

Whatever it is, Jayce knows that Viktor is totally into him, and 60% of it goes to his head. 

The remaining 40%? Straight to his dick. 

Amidst their time together at the low-lit table in the corner, when words abandon them, and their eyes do most of the talking, Viktor lays his hand down on the dark red seat cushion. He doesn’t wait for Jayce to fully acknowledge it for him to slide up to the top of Jayce’s knee. He stiffens, his knees locking in place as Viktor’s hand, barely able to wrap about the curve of his thigh, snakes upward inch by taunting inch.

And Jayce, well, he just lets his eyes fall from Viktor’s to his lips. He notices everything about them at this moment — how soft they look, how soft they must feel, how flushed and moist they’ve become the more they drink. How there’s a very faint mole, so small it could go unmissed, right above his lip line. Even with the dim lighting, Jayce can see it. And he wants to see how it feels against his own.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What is he doing? 

Viktor starts leaning in, and Jayce panics. It’s like he’s read his mind. Alarms are sounding off in his head, but Viktor stops just before their noses touch and tilts his head. 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” he says, nearly breathless. 

Viktor pulls back, meeting Jayce’s eyes in the middle amidst. His eyes are saying a thousand words right now, and Jayce can’t understand any of it, can’t translate a single thing.

“I’ll see you in a bit?” 

Fuck, did he just…? Is that what that little eyebrow arch was? An invitation? 

“Okay.”

And when Jayce licked his lips and parted his mouth as he watched him get up, did he just agree to meet him in the bathroom?

Viktor disappears into the sea of people just like that, and Jayce’s body burns. It feels as though he’s the center of attention, like he was when he was on that tabletop, banging his chest like an animal. Everyone, and he means everyone, has to be questioning whether or not he’s going to make this risky move. No one can answer that question for him, either. Will he find Viktor in the bathroom, or will he go running back to his friend’s table with his tail between his legs?

When he looks around the bar at everyone in their own little intoxicated bubble, nobody pays him any mind. Nobody is watching him.

Nobody is watching him.

Which means… 

Fuck it. 

Taking his drink up to his mouth, he quickly throws his head back and downs the entire thing in two giant swigs. Without a second thought, Jayce is pushing himself out of the booth and dancing his way towards the bathroom through the outskirts of the dance floor. 

He makes it to the hallway and tries for the closest bathroom. Locked. He tries another. Also locked. He finds himself at the end of the hall, in front of the door next to the janitorial closet. He pulls down on the bathroom door handle. This time, unlocked. He sucks in a deep breath, his eyes fluttering up to the ceiling as he prays this is the right one.

When Jayce enters, he has to squint to see past how dimly lit the bathroom is. Fog from below the door has billowed in, creating an eerie effect on the rather spacious bathroom area. It’s just as bad, if not worse than outside where the rest of the club resides. 

Intentional graffiti spans the off-white wall panels, starting from the baseboards and leading up to the ceiling in vibrant neon colors – names, dates, and doodles. He can’t decipher most of the words in this lighting, except the blatant vulgarities.

Viktor is leaning against the sink across from the door, hands propped behind him and legs extended in front of him. His cane is hooked over the lip of the sink. He must have undone another button or two on his shirt, exposing the pale skin of his sternum even more. 

Hungry, predatory eyes follow Jayce’s every move as he quickly and quietly shuts and locks the door behind himself before anyone can see. 

“Did you get lost on your way here?” Viktor asks in a low, teasing voice. And the sound vibrates in Jayce’s ears before going straight to his gut. 

“Ha ha,” Jayce drawls awkwardly, his voice fading off into a nervous chuckle. 

He nearly tiptoes across the floor as he takes in more of the graffiti on the walls. There happens to be a lot more dicks drawn on the walls than he expected. Some are short, some are excessively long, and some just look like smiley faces or headphones. 

Either way, it almost feels like the universe had sent them to this bathroom on purpose. 

Very funny.

Viktor still doesn’t move from his spot against the sink as he nears. “You took longer than I expected. Second-guessing?”

Jayce can’t hold back anymore. He has to know, has to ask. Has to see whether Vi gets the chance to laugh in his face at the revelation, or he can spare himself his pride. 

“Why did you buy me those drinks?”

A sharp chuckle comes from Viktor’s nose. “Are you really asking me that?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Viktor moves with serpentine slowness, pushing off the sink and taking slow steps to close the distance. 

“I bought you those drinks,” he starts seductively. Jayce swallows hard. “Because I want you,” he leans close to Jayce’s ear, his voice low and sultry, “and you followed me into the bathroom because you want me too…”

Jayce’s breath catches in his throat. His vision goes fuzzy, senses muddy, as slim hands make contact with his chest and snake up to the curve of his shoulders. Viktor’s fingers curl around the nape of his neck and gently pull him down to his level. Only then does Jayce register what is happening as Viktor leans in closer and closer and so much closer than before…

Jayce jerks his head back at the last second. “I have a confession.” 

Viktor stops in place, pretty lips still pursed, brows furrowed as his eyes find Jayce’s. 

“Don’t tell me you’re married.”

Jayce stiffens. He shakes his head as he steps back from the other, giving them an inch of distance in this spacious bathroom. “No! No, I just…” he hesitates, “I’ve never kissed a man before.” 

A particular look strikes Viktor’s eyes, one that Jayce just cannot read. Disappointment? Humor? Intrigue? 

Whatever it is, he feels like a guinea pig in the hands of a scientist toying with his senses. And Jayce is embarrassed to admit that he actually kind of likes it. It might even turn him on in just the slightest, the growing bulge in his pants as damning evidence.

Jayce’s own eyes deceive him by dropping down to the exposed skin presented in front of him. He’s no better than a shameless sinner, dragging his eyes over the faint beauty marks that sparsely cover Viktor’s neck, and further, past his collarbone and into the depths of his blouse. Even more moles cover the expanse of his smooth chest, and… is that a tattoo? 

Jayce’s face grows increasingly warm. He exhales so heavily that it almost comes out as an audible sigh.

Alcohol. It’s all because of the alcohol. Yeah, that’s it. 

“But you’ve kissed a woman before, yes?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

“Good. It’s all the same before you take off your clothes.”

Viktor’s hands resume their venture to Jayce’s scalp, nails barely raking through his undercut. The sensation nearly makes Jayce’s knees buckle until he sees Viktor close his eyes and lean in again.

“Wait,” he heaves even heavier this time. 

Inches from Jayce’s mouth, Viktor answers in a flat tone. “Yes?”

“Are we going to,” he raises both brows, “you know?”

Viktor pulls back to look at Jayce dully. He tilts his head. “No. I don’t know.”

“Hook up?” Jayce grits.

“Well,” Viktor nods his head side to side, “I was just planning on sucking your dick, but if you want to take it further…”

“No!” Jayce stammers and immediately backtracks. “I mean, I’m not entirely opposed. It’s just I’ve never—” 

“Kissed a man.” Viktor arches a brow. “I know. Which means you’ve likely never had sex with a man either. I am all caught up, no?”

Jayce’s shoulders slump, and his chest deflates even more than before. “Yeah, yeah, that’s… pretty much it.”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. This time, there’s not an ounce of sarcasm or attitude laced behind his words. He must take consent very seriously. 

“Yes,” Jayce says after a moment of contemplation. And just like that, Viktor is leaning in before he can even finish. “Wait–”

“Oh, Janna.” Viktor steps back down to the flats of his feet, his hands dropping from around Jayce’s neck and falling to his hips.

Jayce slices his hand through the air as he catches his breath. “No kissing.”  

This is all happening so fast, so efficiently, so seamlessly. But even he knows that the moment he crosses that line and kisses Viktor, he is going to lose himself in his lips… and mouth… and hands… 

Viktor’s face drops. “No kissing. What – are we in middle school?”

“Kissing just makes things complicated. You don’t want it to get complicated, do you?”

Viktor rolls his eyes and nods after a beat of silence. “I suppose not. No kissing then. Any other requests?”

Jayce ponders the question for a moment. “Nope,” he pops the P.

Viktor cocks his head to the side, his hands falling back into place on Jayce’s chest. “Can I suck your dick now, or are you going to keep using me as your confession booth?”

He can feel himself practically melting under his fingertips as they gently graze over the material of his shirt, slipping from his pecs to his abdomen. 

“I’m done. I think.” Jayce keeps his eyes locked with Viktor’s fingers as they drag over the lip of his belt one by one. “Yeah, yeah. I’m done now.”

Viktor lets out a soft breath from his lips before using leverage from Jayce’s belt to help him slide down to his knees. His hands make quick work of his belt buckle. Jayce tries to remain as steady as possible, slamming a hand down on the sink and gripping it for dear life. He locks his knees as he leans his hips forward to help Viktor shimmy the belt loose. 

He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to watch, but instead, listens to the clinking of his belt and the zipper of his pants and lets out a shuddered breath. This is getting really intense, really fast, and Jayce doesn’t know how to stop the rapid beating of his heart or stutter in his breathing. 

He’s had his dick sucked before. He’s had sex before. With multiple people, too. Not at the same time, though! No, just with other people at different times. 

But he’s not a virgin, for fuck’s sake! So why is he acting like he’s never been touched before? It’s like Viktor said – it’s all the same before you take your clothes off.

Before Viktor can hook his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, he stammers, nervous laughter spilling from his lips.

“I’m not gay, by the way.”

Jayce knows what he is. He knows what he likes. He knows what he dislikes, too. He has to get that out, though. Clear the air. Set the record straight. Rule out any misconceptions.

His eyes fly open when he doesn’t hear a response. If it were anyone else, he’d imagine they would have stood up and walked out of there without a second thought. Would have probably laughed in his face before they left, too. Maybe Viktor is different. Maybe he just really wants to suck his dick.

That’s just cocky, Jayce. Twenty in the Douche Bag jar, per Caitlyn’s rules.

But his declaration seems to get a rise out of Viktor because he looks up to him from down on his knees with a humorous glint in his eyes. A cheap chuckle comes from below.

“This is… this is just me broadening my horizons, you know,” Jayce adds, just to be safe. “Drunken fun is all.”

“Broadening your horizons,” Viktor says flatly. “Whatever you say, birthday boy.”

Jayce is cut off from saying anything else by Viktor tugging down his boxers with one hand and grabbing his throbbing cock with the other. 

The sensation of Viktor’s cold hand is enough to pull a strangled gasp straight from Jayce’s throat. He throws his head back, eyes fluttering up at the ceiling as Viktor’s hand fully curls around his shaft and drags down to grip the base. He moves his hand up again, swiveling his thumb over the bead of pre-cum seeping from the tip and back down at a painfully slow pace. 

It must be the alcohol that makes Jayce’s legs feel like twigs or his stomach feel like jelly. Or maybe it’s the feeling of having another man’s hands on him in places he’s only ever shared with himself and the women he’s had sex with. 

Hell, he wouldn’t know. His senses have lost themselves, fallen subject to whatever sick and twisted experimentation Viktor is conducting on him right now. He is but a man whose sexual desires have betrayed him.

Jayce tries to focus on anything but the coil already tightening in his gut from the way Viktor’s hand tightens around his pulsing cock. He dares to open his eyes to the ceiling, but he can’t look there because he’s just made eye contact with himself in the mirror hanging above him. 

There’s a fucking mirror. On the ceiling. And he can see everything — Viktor’s hands around his dick and roaming up and down his chest, his face flushed from the alcohol and raging hormones.  

He drops his head down to face the graffiti wall. Which is fine at first, until he notices even more comically large penises drawn over names and quotes people had written on the walls. He’s been in this bathroom maybe once or twice before this moment, but he’s never spent long enough in there to count all the dick drawings that covered the walls. Right now, there’s an astronomical amount he wasn’t aware of before.

Jayce’s last option is to look down. Which is the biggest mistake he could have made because his eyes instantly lock with Viktor’s. Those beautiful hooded eyes are staring at him, into him, into his soul, and Jayce feels almost as though he’s just clutched his lungs with that free hand of his and squeezed the breath out of him in the best way possible.

Jayce’s dick twitches in his hand, and a curt smile tugs on Viktor’s thin lips. “Did you mean to tell me you’ve never gotten your dick sucked before?”

“I have,” he defends, his voice rising a bit louder than anticipated. “I have, just… not in a bathroom before.”

Jayce opts to close his eyes. That’s his best option right now. That leaves him with the back of his eyelids and the coiling sensation sitting in his gut.  

“You can touch me, you know,” Viktor mutters from below. “I am not going to explode.”

He won’t, but Jayce certainly feels like he will.

So far, he’s been able to occupy his hands by holding on to something. One hand still handles the sink with a vice grip, while the other balls into a fist and falls to the surface in front of him, caging Viktor in between his frame and the wall.

“What?” Jayce seethes.

“It might ease your nerves a bit,” he offers, tilting his head. “Eh. Gives you a little more control over the situation.”

His head falls, capturing Viktor’s eyes from below. “Li-like how?” 

“Like this.”

Viktor takes the hand resting on the sink’s ledge, comparably larger than his own, and guides it to his face. Jayce watches as his hand makes contact with Viktor’s cheek, softly, carefully at first. Hesitant to ruin anything with his hands alone. He uses his thumb to skim the sculpture of his cheekbone, grazing over the beauty mark right below his eye. 

Viktor’s eyelashes flutter in response, nestling his head into his hand and just barely teasing his lips against his palm. Gaining more confidence, Jayce uses his thumb to pull his cheek taut, parting his mouth in the process. Viktor’s lips are inches from the tip of Jayce’s cock, his breath fanning over its sensitive head, causing it to flinch. 

Viktor acts swiftly, moving his hand to Jayce’s wrist and guiding it further until his fingers sink into the highlights of his hair. He drops his hand, ultimately passing the reins over to Jayce. He settles his hand on the side of Viktor’s head just how he imagined he wanted them to be, fingers curled around the back of his scalp. 

He slowly pulls Viktor’s mouth onto his cock, giving him enough control to change his mind if he so chooses. 

But Viktor is compliant. He willingly drops his open mouth on him, using his tongue to swipe up the remnants of pre-cum from the tip. Jayce’s dick pulses against his mouth, and Viktor looks up at him with a look in his eyes that sends his heart racing a million beats per minute. 

Viktor keeps his eyes locked on Jayce as he wraps his lips around his cock, hollowing his cheeks out as he sinks further, and further, and further until he’s halfway down and gagging on it. Jayce’s jaw unlocks, and his mouth parts, his hand clenches in his hair as he watches Viktor pull back to the tip with an exaggeratedly loud slurp. 

Finally, Jayce brings his other hand to Viktor’s face, combing back the loose locks that had fallen from his haphazard updo out of his face. His fingers plunge into his hair and perfectly cup Viktor’s head with both hands. 

He’s in total control, he realizes. A lot of power for someone whose never had his dick sucked by a guy before. Girls, yes. But never a guy. Viktor has allowed him to use his mouth however he pleases until he’s gotten what he wants. Even so, he lets Viktor take the lead, giving over the handles and praying he survives this temptation. 

Viktor’s eyes drop to the base of Jayce’s cock. His lashes flutter as he slides his mouth back and forth on Jayce, saliva coating his shaft with the bounce of his head. He bobs his head methodically, rolling the backside of his dick against his tongue and at the same time, moaning, sending vibrations that rattle throughout Jayce’s entire being. 

He doesn’t entirely hear the sounds Viktor makes, mind much too cloudy to register anything audible, but fuck, can he feel them, like magma in his veins and lightning in every nerve of his body. 

Each time his head hits the back of Viktor’s throat, a violent shudder wracks throughout Jayce's entire body. He can viscerally feel it from his head to his toes. He has to take a hand from Viktor’s hair and slam it against the wall to stop himself from caving in over Viktor like a house of playing cards. His body towers over him, like a looming shadow, and Viktor looks up to Jayce with fierce confidence that could easily make him fall to his knees. 

“F-fuck, Viktor,” Jayce gasps, his jaw falling slack.

He doesn’t know what to say in this situation, really. He’s not even sure if he’s allowed to say his name like that, but Viktor seems to respond well to it anyway. 

He sinks his mouth even further than before, thought impossible by Jayce until his lips kiss the hilt of his cock. He pulls back for air only to confidently dive right back in. He works his tongue into the motion now, curling the muscle around his shaft, and Jayce can’t stop the pathetic whine that barrels out of his throat.

Jayce can see it in Viktor’s eyes. His tough-shelled facade is breaking down more and more as he uses his mouth to fuck Jayce. Seemingly arrogant and sexually confident all the way up to the moment he began drooling on Jayce’s cock. His eyebrows furrow at the center of his forehead, and Viktor can barely stand to look up at him without tears breaking at his waterline, his clean-cut eyeliner bleeding at the corners of his eyes.

Jayce’s entire body falters even harder when he sees Viktor’s eyes roll to the back when he shoves him deeper into his throat. His jaw drops as Viktor holds it there, his throat contracting around him in violent pulses.

“Sh- shit, Viktor,” he growls. “Please, please. You’re getting me so close.” 

He takes a hand out of his hair and uses his thumb to wipe away the saliva dribbling down his chin. He uses that same thumb to drag underneath his eyes, clearing off the eyeliner that’s beginning to smear.

That only seems to drive Viktor forward, because he reels back to harshly slide Jayce back into the tightness of his throat without hesitation. Jayce’s gut coils as he does this again, and again, and again, until he isn’t sure who is dragging him back down for more — Viktor or himself. 

All coherent thoughts have abandoned him. The only thing left to think about is Viktor’s mouth and hands and the insatiable grip both have on him, like shackles to his ankles, chaining him to the ground. He’s honestly surprised how long he’s made it without exploding on sight.

Jayce seethes through his teeth as Viktor’s mouth closes around him even tighter. “You — fuck — you feel so fucking good.”

Shamelessly now, untamed, Jayce uses his hand plunged into Viktor’s hair at the back of his head to guide him along his cock. He starts slow at first, hesitantly, following the motion he’s set forth to test the limits. He adds a little pressure in here and there, listening to the sounds he makes from around him. 

When Viktor successfully breaks past well over the halfway mark without gagging, taking him in until his nose is pressed against the neatly trimmed curls at the base of his cock, Jayce dares to push even further. He nudges himself into the depths of Viktor’s throat, making tiny little thrusts into the tight cavern until he’s panting under his breath.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, yes, yes, right there, Viktor. Right there,” he groans, the sounds coming out damn near like a whine. “You’re gonna make me come. Gonna make me come down your throat. That okay, baby? Can you take it?”

Viktor groans around him in response, approving, encouraging. Jayce claws at Viktor’s head, fingers squeezed around thick locks of brown and blonde as he fucks himself into his mouth like a feverish animal now. 

And Viktor, fuck, Viktor is taking it so fucking well. Not a single complaint, not even stopping to gag. Just looking up at him with those big amber eyes, like pools of warm whiskey, and unlocking his jaw for Jayce.

Jayce himself is a whining mess. Each time his head hits the back of Viktor’s throat, his tongue drags against the underside of his shaft, and a little pathetic sounds slip from his lips. 

He’s mere moments from spilling himself into Viktor’s mouth when his phone rings from his pocket.

Both men stumble back, startled, Viktor gasping for air when Jayce releases him. A string of saliva connects Viktor’s lips to his cock, and he uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. 

Jayce has to catch his breath to realize what’s happening. He rummages through his pocket, pulls his phone out, and checks the caller ID. Caitlyn Kirammann.  

He groans before punching the red decline button and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Sorry,” he hisses. 

“S’fine,” Viktor says hastily before clamping his hands to Jayce’s hips and sealing his lips around his dick again, unhanded.

Just before they get back into it, Viktor’s tongue lolled around his dick, Jayce’s phone rings again. 

He waits a moment to see whether Viktor notices and if they can just keep going or not. Sure, it’s annoying the hell out of Jayce. But if he can ignore it for just a few moments, it’ll finish, and hey, maybe he can, too, finally.

When Viktor pulls off of him with a loud pop, his eyes slide up to Jayce with a twinge of annoyance. He starts reaching for his phone.

“Are you going to take that, or just let it ring?”

Jayce declines the call — Caitlyn, again — clicks the ringer off, and shimmies it back into his pocket. “Don’t worry about it.”

As Viktor is mid-opening his mouth to take him down his throat again, Jayce’s phone incessantly rings for a third fucking time. As if she didn’t even wait a single second after the second one to try again. Fucking hell. Can’t a man broaden his horizons in peace?

Viktor finally pulls off of him with a hiss of annoyance. “Just answer the phone.”

Jayce grits his teeth. He finally slides his thumb to accept the call. 

“It better be the end of the fucking world.”

Music competes against Caitlyn’s voice on the phone. “Jeez! Sorry, birthday boy,” she says very unapologetically. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s late. Really late. Vi’s about one drink away from blackout, and I’m ready to leave.”

Jayce can’t hide the twinge of annoyance in his voice, mostly deriving from being cockblocked rather than at her. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here. Can’t you take her for a walk or something?”

Vi shouts through the phone, “I’m not a fucking dog, Talis!”

Caitlyn scoffs, ignoring her and his suggestion. “Well, can you get out of the middle of that something?”

Jayce raises a hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He huffs in frustration, and he doesn’t doubt that it’s not audible through the phone. “Love you, but I would really appreciate it if you’d kindly fuck off.”

“Yikes, who got your panties in a wad?”

Vi’s voice comes into range from the background, evidently slurred, “He’s totally getting laid right now. Lucky bastard.” There’s some fumbling on the other end until he hears her voice more clearly. “Let’s go, birthday boy. It’s a quarter past one, and I want a street hot dog from those little stands outside PSU.” 

Jayce pans down to the floor, where Viktor kneels at his feet. He feels rather deserving of the bored stare he’s receiving right now as he tries his damnedest to get off the phone.

“I am begging you to hold on for, like, ten more minutes.” Viktor quirks an eyebrow up at him. His lips form the word five and Jayce’s face falls. Cocky bastard. “Okay, five. Five minutes, please. Street hot dogs on me, promise.”

Caitlyn comes back into range, “Whatever it is will have to wait, Jayce. She’s got one thing on her mind, and there isn’t anything we can do to stop her. Now, are you really going to let your small and innocent college-age female friends walk home all alone in the dark?”

Small? Innocent? Yeah right. Vi easily takes him down when they play fight like they’re kids again, and he’s not proud of it. Besides the point.

Viktor is already using the sink to help him rise to his feet as Jayce lets out an aggravated sigh. He’s still painfully hard and wet, not even sure he can stuff himself back in his slacks without it being blatantly obvious. 

Alas, the mood has been more than ruined by this point. There’s no point in fighting for it any longer. Especially when Viktor is facing the mirror and wiping his mouth clean of the evidence.

“You owe me big time. I’ll meet you outside. Don’t leave without me.” Jayce hangs up before she can get in another word. 

He juggles his phone in his hand while hastily shoving himself back into his pants, just in case they decide to call and bug him again. He zips and buckles his pants back together as he throws Viktor an apologetic look. 

“Look, I’m…” Jayce blows raspberries as he tucks his shirt back into his waistband. “I’m sorry for this. I…”

“Don’t be,” Viktor says sharply. He finishes dragging his hand over his mouth to get rid of the excess saliva from his face. He pivots to face Jayce, head cocked to the side. “You’re hardly the first person to cut me off mid-blow.”

“Oh.” He isn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel any better or the opposite.

Viktor lays his hand out, palm facing up. “Give me your phone.”

Jayce’s eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

Viktor takes matters into his own hands and snags Jayce’s phone right in front of him. He barely gets the chance to protest before he’s swiping away at the screen. Jayce tries to peek at what he’s doing, but his fingers move quickly.

“What’re you doing?”

“Giving you my number,” Viktor deadpans as he furiously types away into Jayce’s phone. “Use it or don’t. It’s up to you if you’d like to finish this.”

“I…” Viktor cuts him off by placing his phone back in his hand and pushing it to his chest. He gives his hand a simple pat before meeting his eyes again.

“Happy birthday, Jayce.” Viktor’s lips curl into a hint of a smirk before he turns away, taking his cane in hand and striding to the door. 

He leaves the bathroom without bothering to look both ways and closes the door behind him. Jayce stares at the bathroom door for what feels like an hour, disguised as a few mere minutes before he makes any other movement. The evidence of their escapade remains painfully hard, throbbing against the seams of his slacks. Any movement to it sends a jolt through his body. 

What the fuck just happened? 

Was that real?

Was Viktor even real?

He turns around to the mirror, capturing his ruddy cheeks and drunken eyes. He takes a hand to his face, dragging it over the edges and curves as he stares into his reflection. He can’t stare for too long due to the haze and lights blurring together. It probably doesn’t help that he’s at his peak in drunkenness at the moment. 

Especially when his eyes scan the walls around him and he feels personally offended by the writing left above on the hand soap dispenser, reading: ur gay. 

Fucking hell. Who even is Jayce anymore?

His phone begins vibrating in his hand, knocking him back to his senses. He answers before it can ring again. “All right! I’m walking out right now!”

Chapter Text

When Mel invited Viktor to parties hosted by her sorority and the adjoining fraternities in the college neighborhood, he rarely went. And by Viktor’s definition, rarely really just means never.

Mel, like the thoughtful friend she is, would extend the invite to him, give him all of the information – the who, when, where, and why – even offering to be designated driver if it just so happened to be off campus. And Viktor would nod his head, smile at the courtesy, and insist he would arrange his night accordingly to attend. 

But oh no! He has just come down with a terrible ache in his leg that has him bedridden for the remainder of the night (or at least until the party is shut down by campus security). Sometimes, he wouldn’t have to lie about the pain, but even if he was, it was a damn good excuse that she refused to counter argue with. It worked like gold every time. 

Mel stands in front of the library’s reception desk, flipping through pages of the book rentals that have just been delivered from the return cart. A few hefty stacks are lying on the counter nearest Viktor. All he has to do is scan, stamp, submit, and repeat – the simplicity of his job. It would hopefully keep him occupied for the remainder of his shift, making it go by in a breeze. That is, if Mel doesn’t browse through every single one of them as if it’s her Instagram feed. 

Viktor’s relieved when she gives up on her skimming in the middle of a textbook, The Art of Public Speaking. The pages are at the end of their lifespan, old and outdated, just like the contents of the book. She slams it closed with a huff, likely blowing clouds of translucent dust in his direction before pushing it back toward the stack. She leans over the counter and rests her face in her hand as she looks down at him.

“Viktor,” she declares his name with intent.

“Mel.” 

He doesn’t bother looking up as he slams the bright red stamp on the inner cover with a loud click. Shut it, slide it, repeat.

She slumps forward with a groan. “If you’re to come to any of the parties that I invite you to, please let it be this one.”

He quirks a brow at the woman in front of him, still maintaining his focus on the dusty textbooks. “And what makes this one in particular so special?”

“I’m the one hosting this time,” she shares proudly. She splays a hand to her chest, her gold rings glinting in contrast to her white tube top. “I know all of the other parties I’ve invited you to were boring and stupid and obnoxious. But now that I have been so graciously re-elected as your Associated Student Body president, I’m honored to be hosting a welcome back to the fall semester.”

Viktor’s eyes slide up to hers, pausing mid-stamp. “It’s the end of July,” he deadpans, “school doesn’t start for another month.”

“Yeah, but there are still classes going on. So it’s kind of like an end-of-the-semester celebration too.” 

He resumes his work, stamping even louder than before and pushing it even further down the line. “Or an excuse for half of the university to get drunk out of their minds in the middle of the summer,” he mutters as his eyes roll back to the next book.

Mel huffs. Granted, Viktor wasn’t always easy to convince of things. Hence why inviting him to go out feels as close to pulling teeth for both him and the other party. But he has logical reasoning behind his gunfire answer of no. 

Mel does push him to go out, but it’s he who chooses to intermingle with people outside of his cohort of peers when he wants to, how he wants, and how often he wants. And he never dares tell her of his social adventures. 

Going to Topside, he can get away with it as his voluntary means of socialization. At least there he can buy himself a drink that isn’t low-shelf liquor or the bottom of a keg. He doesn’t have to worry about people he knows wandering in and sparking up a conversation. And he especially doesn’t have to worry about merging his school life with his social life.

Being in unfamiliar territory, he can be a version of himself that doesn’t have to worry about the repercussions of indulgence. If he truly wants to, he can hook up with hot strangers and not worry about running into them the next day on campus. Because temporary, fleeting relationships are what Viktor prefers. He can simply take what he wants, engage in a little mutual exchange with no strings attached, and vanish in due time. 

It’s predictable. Predictability works for him. 

Unpredictability does not. And that is all that comes from the college parties that Mel invites him to. 

“You can take it as you want, but it is an excuse to get you out of your dorm to socialize.”

Viktor finishes the stack of textbooks closest to him and opts to treat himself to a break. He props his elbows on the computer desk and drops his head in his hands, brushing his hair away from his eyes. When he brings his head up again, he gives Mel a redundant look.

“I socialize plenty. See,” he waves his hand between the two of them, “I’m even doing it now.”

“Not good enough,” Mel sings. As if she weren’t already in his personal bubble with a circumference of six feet, she leans a hand over the counter and waves it around. “Your version of socializing is checking out books and charging these poor college students for their late returns. Have some sympathy for the people!”

Viktor’s eyes glint up at his friend. “I’m the face of the library when there are late fees and holds on textbooks that they want. You underestimate how many geriatric students I have to teach how to reboot a computer. It takes a lot of explaining. My job is very socially taxing.”

Mel huffs again, more begrudgingly. But it takes quite a lot for The Mel Medarda to be stopped. “You’re making it really difficult to advertise a work, school, and life balance here.”

“I hate to break it to you, but it is not your job to keep the university happy. You will only exhaust yourself if you focus only on the general population, rather than who really matters.”

“Perfect example, Viktor.” Mel grins flatteringly. Now he’s really done it for himself. He’ll never hear the end of it. “As your friend, I will make it my responsibility to get you out and into the world. So, please come. Whether it be making fun of drunkards or beating everyone at niche card games only you know how to play, you’ll have a good time. I swear. And the moment you don’t, you can leave, and I will never ask you to come to another one for the rest of the year.”

That piques Viktor’s interest. He narrows his eyes at her. “A year. Really.”

“Swear it.” She raises her hand and crosses an X over where her heart lies in her chest. “Scouts honor.”

Viktor leans back in his chair, and it gives way to his body, swaying as he crosses his arms. “The school year, or the remainder of this year?”

Mel folds her lips in a tight line as she contemplates between the two. Finally, she settles with, “The school year.”

Viktor sucks in a deep breath, lodging it in his throat until he grunts, “Fine.” 

And this time, when he says fine, he actually contemplates it for a moment without turning it down immediately. Even Viktor debates on why he had this sudden change of heart.

Mel grins brightly, beautifully. Her happiness makes her face all the more radiant. Before she can reach for Viktor’s hands in a celebratory hug from over the counter, a library guest interrupts them. An older woman, likely mid-fifties, comes peeking around Mel with a kind smile. 

“S’cuse me, dearies,” she calls out in her feeble voice. “But could one of you come to take a look at this computer for me? I keep clicking the mouse but it won’t turn on,” she chuckles cutely, waving her wrinkly hand their way, “ol’ reliable technology.”

Viktor looks from Mel to the elderly woman, gracing her with his softest faux customer service smile. “I’ll be right there to assist you, ma’am.”

She graces him with a polite nod and “thank you” before turning back in the direction she came from. As the woman waddles away, Viktor darts his head to Mel. He shoos her away with his hands and a stern gaze, but she knows he’s only teasing. 

“Out of my library before I change my mind.”

Mel only responds with a wiggle of her fingers at him as she turns to dash away. “See you tonight!”

Viktor shakes his head as he watches her leave, waiting a few seconds before reaching for his cane and heading in the direction where he’s needed. He can’t help but chuckle under his breath. 

“Not a chance.” 

Viktor stares at the door of Mel’s sorority house as it vibrates against the frame of the house.

Maybe it was guilt that led him here. Maybe it was his pure exhaustion from his work that convinced him he just needed to step away and take a breather. Maybe the fact that, while his friendship with Mel isn’t determined by the number of parties they attend together (Viktor can count that number on one hand), or how many mutual friends they shared (none), it does dictate the effort he puts into their friendship. 

It hasn’t been very long since they became friends, originally as academic opponents. But at Piltover State University, Viktor was technically an opponent to everyone. Nobody stood in the way of him and his academic success. He put every fiber of his being into his studies.

When his research papers on the future of Biomechanical Technology were used as examples of exemplifying work for his classes, or his 3-D models of realistic adaptive prosthetics prototypes were displayed in the university's technology gallery, he took great pride in it.

Until he and Mel happened to cross paths in his undergraduate studies in a Politics, Power, and Technology course in his junior year. 

He was no longer the only one being acknowledged for his diligent work, no longer the only one raising his hand during lectures, no longer being praised when he answered complex questions others struggled with. Because Mel had a knack for competition as well, and this course, with heavy debates between politics and technology, was right up both their alleys.

So after months of battling it out in socratic seminars and group presentations, the two came to a stalemate. They found that, contrary to their beliefs, working together had benefited both of them more than working against. 

Although Viktor still secretly takes everything as a form of competition – and likely Mel as well – they found a middle ground between rivals and colleagues, and at the same time, formed an unlikely friendship. Viktor won’t openly admit it, but going head to head with Mel in that class was the most entertaining semester for him, to say the least.

It was a friendship founded on truces and conditions. And for the last three years, it’s what made things in life like this amongst all the unpredictable, well , predictable. 

What had been unpredictable about it, though, was the fact that he showed up tonight without sending that can’t make it – leg is killing me :( text. It surprises the hell out of him, and certainly surprises the hell out of Mel when she spots him in the large entryway.

She pushes through the sea of people to get to him, sharing a few smiles and greetings along the way before stopping in front of him. “You made it,” she says breathlessly, too happy to will any sarcasm into it.

He takes in her rather formal attire – a yellow top with a matching white skirt, florals decorating her outfit. He can’t help feeling as though he stands out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the people here. Everyone is either wearing some type of revealing summer clothing that was rather flattering to their form, or something utterly exposing; he couldn’t really call it an article of clothing. 

Viktor, on the other hand, opted for something more neutral compared to his usual outing attire — clad in a loose plain white tee and black jeans, and of course, his handy cane. Nothing compared to what he would wear on a night out on the town.

Even as off-putting as he feels, Mel, as beautiful as ever, smiles at his presence. It’s a look that Viktor appreciates whenever he is graced with its presence, one that makes it feel like coming here, despite his distaste for parties like this, was worth it. 

“Well,” he raises a brow at the woman, “this is my one and only social event of the year, so might as well make it count, no?”

She scrunches her nose with a chuckle. She seems to be one of the few people who understood his sarcastic humor the best. “Funny. Actually, I’d like to revise my former statement and see if you’d potentially consider coming to this event—”

“Absolutely not.”

A giggle slurs from her lips, a sly smile following. “Can I offer you a drink to ease the tension?”

“Yes, please.”

Mel loops her arm through his, and together, they walk at a leisurely pace to the kitchen, where the crowd seems to dissipate. Luckily, with her as their guide, he doesn’t have to knock out any ankles on the way there. She gets to work with stealing two red Solo cups from the top of the stacks and shuffling around the kitchen as he stands off to the side. Viktor steals a moment or two to cast his gaze through the window above the kitchen sink and across the crowded backyard. 

“Here.” She breaks his train of thought by shoving a very full Red solo cup in his direction. 

Viktor takes it in hand and peers inside with a questioning look. Murky orange liquid stirs inside, with only a few melting ice cubes floating up to the surface. 

He tries to hide the disgust in his voice, “What is this?”

“Just try it.” Mel flicks her eyebrow at him. “It’s fruity.”  

His eyebrows flatten. “Ha ha.”

He grimaces at the thought of what this could contain. Kitchen sink water could be a likely ingredient. But he trusts Mel, and broadening his horizons seems to be the perfect saying for this moment. The pungent orange liquid is enough for him to suck in breath when he takes a sip. He holds it on his tongue for a moment, letting the clashing flavors and alcohols battle it out in his mouth before he roughly swallows it down.

He coughs to cover up his gag. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s jungle juice,” Mel says after finishing her sip. Even she has to take a second to recover from drinking it. “You’ve never had jungle juice before?”

“What kind of juice?”

Mel winces. “It’s like a concoction of different fruits, liquors, and candy.” 

Viktor sucks in a deep breath, hoping that would work well enough as a chaser. “Delicious.” 

Quite literally the most disgusting creation ever made. Frankly, he would rather stick to his martinis, maybe a whiskey on the rocks, or even water over this, but college students these days don’t care for things like that. His palette might have matured well past his age group, or others’ taste buds might have died during undergrad. 

Mel gestures toward the outside of the kitchen and back into the congregation of people in the living room. He follows closely behind her as she searches for a corner to burrow into and observes, heading for the hallway that sections off the dining room from the kitchen. People at the dining table play an intense game of makeshift poker behind them, where playing chips are replaced with various brands of beer bottle caps or quarters.

Music deafens everything in Viktor’s ears, until the only sound that remains is the chatter amongst the university students filling this cramped living room and the poorly mixed soundtrack. Loud music isn’t a problem for him; it’s poorly made loud music that steers him away. 

“So,” Viktor tries to break into small talk, “what is there to do at these things?” 

Mel doesn’t quite hear him at first, gaze still cast across the crowd, until he nudges his shoulder toward her. She looks back this time and leans her ear in.

He huffs before speaking up again, “What do you do during parties?”

“Uh, mm,” Mel laughs awkwardly before letting her eyes dart around the living room when trying to think of something.

Viktor clicks his tongue. “Do not tell me you come to these things just to get drunk–”

“No, no. I do things. I watch Beer Pong. I talk with friends. Mingle about and stuff,” she tries to defend herself, but the look Viktor gives proves she’s not convincing. 

“You don’t know everyone here, do you?”

“Gods, no.” She blows raspberries, and the curly strands of hair framing her face fly. “Do you really think I can find the time to talk to all these people and remember who everyone is? I’m lucky if I even remember their names after we talk.”

Viktor hums as he leans his back against the wall. He hooks the handle of his cane over his arm before crossing them, keeping his drink hand on top. “So socializing is just a word you use to get drunk and pretend you care to hear what they have to say.”

“More or less,” Mel bobs her head side to side. “Oh, but there are a few people I know here.”

“Is one of them the girl you’ve been dating?”

“Woman, and not dating,” she corrects. Viktor sarcastically raises his hand in defense. “She’s too old for this scene. Her words, not mine. Besides, all she gives me are mixed signals, and I’m not going to wait around for her to make up her mind. I’ll do what I want. But there is this guy I’ve been,” she raises her eyebrows at him, “you know. He’s here tonight.”

Viktor’s eyes glint at his friend. “Am I supposed to know what ‘you know’ means?”

Mel utters under her breath, “Hooking up.”

“Scandalous, Mel Medarda,” he rolls his eyes as he goes to take another sip from his drink. The faster he can finish it, the faster the effects will hit him, and he can find something new to sip on. “This guy you’ve been sleeping with, eh, is he new?”

“We’ve been friends for a while, but the sex is semi-recent.” Mel chuckles cutely, eyelashes fluttering as she speaks about him. Her hand comes to thwap against Viktor’s chest as she goes on, “Which, by the way, he might be a little nerdy, but he can fuck. I’m surprised he decided to take a break long enough to come here without excessive persuasion.”

“It is possible he believes there’s an incentive to coming to this sort of thing.” Or likely made the same mistake he did, got convinced into coming out tonight by Mel Medarda. Viktor whips his head to Mel, “And, excuse me, I am beginning to take offense at you throwing around the term nerd so easily. You are generalizing that a particular group of people who simply appreciate their studies cannot–”

Mel takes her hand to his shoulder, clasping it firmly and giving it a solid shake. His drink sloshes from the motion, and he tries his best not to let it spill on his fingers when it does. A feathery gasp sounds in his ear. “There he is. Three o’clock. Black tee. Tan skin. Hazel eyes. Cute butt.”

“The lighting is shit in here,” Viktor grumbles under his breath as he turns his head to the right. “I am not going to—”

Viktor chokes on the air he breathes.

Jayce, the Jayce from Topside, the bathroom-blow-job Jayce in the flesh, is emerging from the hallway that people are filtering in and out of. He’s mid-conversation with a dark-haired girl, the same girl Viktor recognizes from the bar, with her pink-haired girlfriend attached to her hip. The trio shares a laugh, likely over something the pink-haired girl blurted out as they break into the crowd. And in his and Mel’s direction.

No fucking way.

“Him?” Viktor tries his hardest to hide the surprise in his voice. “You’ve been hooking up with him?”

He keeps his eyes locked on Jayce. He watches him smile, loudly, freely. His eyes crinkle as he shakes his head at whatever stupid joke the pink-haired girl must have said based on her prideful smirk. His laughter, although audible across the room, sounds like it’s being whispered down his back. 

“Yeah. He’s cute, or whatever,” she says so casually. She shrugs, and her hand slides down from his shoulder as she turns to stand side by side with him again. “But we’re just friends. Had to break the news to him that I wasn’t ready to lock into anything unless it was with… well, her.”

Viktor looks down at his cloudy drink. “Right. You prefer your older women, anyway.” 

Can’t say it’s strictly the same for Jayce, though.

Mel whips her head to Viktor, and again, grips his arm that holds his cup to his mouth. He tries to prevent the drink from spilling onto his lips and chin, but fails. 

“Wait, I just remembered. You’re in the engineering department; so is he. I should introduce you guys.” She grins confidently as Viktor’s blood starts to drain out of his body. “Talk about networking as a student council representative. If Professor Shoola could see me now, working off the clock.” 

She spins back to face the crowd and waves her hand in the air. “Jayce! Jayce, come here!”

Viktor tries to avoid this interaction as much as possible by holding his drink up to his face and taking down two, three, four hefty swings. He’s surprised it didn’t come back up in the process. 

It takes a few moments for Jayce to pinpoint the direction of his name being called, but when he does, that smile appears again. Only to be very quickly replaced with those hazel eyes of his, growing three times in size. 

Viktor can see, no, he can physically feel the tension Jayce exudes from across the room as his broad shoulders scrunch. There is no doubt in his mind that Jayce has made the same connection that he had. Now, he just needs to wait and see how this will play out. 

Mel captures Jayce’s attention again as she waves her hand, coaxing him over. Jayce has nowhere to hide now that she’s summoned him. But he points to himself anyway, as if he’s not the only six-foot something trunk of a man standing in the middle of the living room. Viktor can’t help but chuckle at his attempts to avoid the situation. 

Mel doesn’t give up, however, nodding her head until finally, Jayce waves off his friends and pivots to push through the crowd. He releases a heavy breath from his chest as he stops before them, his shoulders sloping when he does so. Viktor makes note that he’s trying extra hard to avoid making eye contact with him, and only him. 

He looks at Mel, eyes softening when he does. “Hey.” 

If Viktor didn’t already know the two were hooking up, he would have clocked it by now. 

“Hey, stranger,” Mel hums sweetly. “I’m happy you ditched the nuts and bolts for a little social life.” 

Jayce rolls his eyes, but puts on his charming grin again. Viktor can’t help scoffing. 

Mel swings her hand toward him, as if presenting him like a doll on display. “Jayce, this is my good friend Viktor. He’s a part of the Engineering department at PSU, too.” She turns her hands to Jayce, but Viktor has already taken his time looking him up and down, noting the change in appearance. “And Viktor, this is Jayce.”

Viktor likely looks different compared to how he normally dresses when going to Topside — casual, simple, nothing fancy. But even Jayce has forgone the formal button down, opting for the plain black tee that pulls at his chest marvelously and tight blue jeans that hug his hips and thighs. And Mel was right, even Viktor can see from here his butt does look cute. 

Mel pops her hand back on her hip. “You guys are probably going to be in the same graduate classes this upcoming semester, so I figured I’d introduce you to each other. I consider this my second successful networking event here at the PSU.”

Jayce still hasn’t budged. He doesn’t say anything, only giving Viktor a brief, tight-lipped smile, the raise of his thick brows before looking around at the people surrounding them. Like there is a better place to be than in front of the guy who willingly sucked his dick in a club bathroom.

Viktor extends the courtesy first by offering his free hand to Jayce. A casual smile pulls on his lips, one he shares with anyone worth meeting. “Are you in Biomechanical Engineering, by chance?”

Small talk. They’ve done this already. He’s moments from finding out how Jayce will go about their encounter in front of him. How Jayce responds will determine a lot of things for him. Viktor might even be able to make a little game out of this. Here is to making his own entertainment at a stupid college party. No, not stupid. Just not his personal interest. Sorry, Mel.

Jayce sucks in a deep breath before taking Viktor’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Uh, no. Civil Engineering.”

Viktor bows his head in a form of acknowledgement. “Ah, well, Jayce. It is good to meet you,” he says, traces of familiarity laced in his voice. If that doesn’t give it away, this will. “Again.”

Jayce’s eyes flutter open as Mel perks up in interest. She jerks her head back before her eyes dart between the two, landing on Viktor last. “Wait, Vik. You know Jayce already?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Jayce blurts out at the same time.

Well shit. 

They stare at each other. Hard. Jayce’s lip twists into his mouth, but his eyes narrow on him. If he’s trying to communicate with him using his eyes, Viktor is not understanding any of it.

Jayce squints. “No…?” 

Viktor gives him the same look, a pushback. A challenge, almost. “Yes.”

“Okay, well,” Mel scoffs out a humorless chuckle. “Guess I didn’t need to acquaint you then. You could’ve told me. How do you guys know each other? Did you take classes together?”

“No.” Jayce snaps quicker than Viktor can jump in to answer, keeping his eyes on him. “No. We don’t know each other.” His eyes flash over to Mel. “I mean, we do. But not really.”

Mel narrows her eyes at the two of them, and it almost feels maternal. She is not amused. 

Viktor will be the first to say that this is stupid. Utterly stupid. Denying that they don’t know each other, likely over the fact that in the first few hours of knowing each other, they nearly had sex. He has seen this all before, and it’s no surprise that it is coming from the same man who gave him a whole speech on how straight he is while a gay man sat on his knees with his dick in his hands. 

He assumes it’s because he’s embarrassed. And maybe a little bit confused. But mostly embarrassed.

Despite this, Viktor jumps in for Jayce’s defense, even though, truly, he couldn’t care less about saving him from Mel’s wrath. “What he meant to say is we have very recently just met. I ran into Jayce at his birthday party the other day at Topside. If you want to see his best impression of King Kong, give him a Smirnoff Ice. All the entertainment you will need for the night.”

Mel glances at Jayce with a brow quirked. “I thought your birthday party was exclusively for you, Caitlyn, and Vi. You know, the Lesbros,” she mockingly drops her voice an octave.

“It was!” Jayce laughs nervously. Viktor’s heard that laugh before. He knows exactly what it means: Oh, shit. The attention is on me, and I’m getting overwhelmed. “Viktor just so happened to be there at the same time. In the same place. He very briefly saw what was happening from a very far distance.”

Too much. Viktor nudges his elbow against Jayce’s bicep, and he can viscerally feel Jayce’s arm clench next to him. Shit, he’s tense.

“Okay,” Mel says warily, but luckily she doesn’t press any further on the matter. “It sounds like a fun night, then.” She pans over to Viktor and offers a hand out. “Why don’t I get us a refill while you two chat about nerd stuff?”

Jayce grunts, likely at the thought of being alone with him. Viktor contemplates knocking his ankles to get him to shut up. He is not making this easy for either of them. 

Mel ignores him as she glances at Viktor. “Any requests?”

Viktor shrugs, passing her his empty cup. “Just none of that tropical cesspool.”

Both Jayce and Mel respond. “Jungle juice?”

“Yes, not that. Anything but that.” 

He can feel his stomach disagreeing with it already. The idea of that giant tub filled with sugary juices, sweet liquors, and sour candy sounds utterly repulsive. Just another reason why Viktor preferred top-shelf cocktails at Topside. Or frankly, anywhere but a college party. 

“Got it,” Mel nods before glancing between the two, flashing a parting smile, “be back in a few.”

Viktor watches as she holds up the two red Solo cups above her head, threading through the sea with a precision that must have taken years of practice. She’s always been good in crowds. In the off chance that Viktor does show up to events that she hosts at the university, she never fails in clearing a path for him and side-eyeing people who get in the way of him and his cane. It was either that, or he starts making a path of his own and taking out ankles in the process while she watches horrified. 

It isn’t until she’s disappeared around the corner and presumably into the kitchen that Jayce pivots to Viktor, one hand clutched to his arm.

“What are you doing?” he asks roughly. Stress has taken over the charming features of his face.

Viktor furrows his brows, shrugging. “Attending the party that my friend invited me to. What are you doing?”

“The same thing. But I mean, what are you doing?” Jayce deadpans and drops his hand. “Saying all that stuff about the other day. Nobody can know what we did.”

Viktor can’t help the scoff that slips from his throat in the form of a cheap laugh. “What makes you think she will find out?”

Jayce takes his hand back to point his finger at Viktor. “You have a terrible poker face. You keep making those eyes.”

“What eyes?”

Jayce’s voice drops as he grits, “The bathroom-blow-job eyes.”

“Perhaps if you stopped jumping every time I touched, or even looked at you, she won’t notice how often you bite your bottom lip,” he bites back.

Jayce’s jaw drops. Something that sounds a lot like surprise slips out. “It’s a nervous tick. I do it when I’m nervous.”

“Does talking to her make you nervous?” He puts on said bathroom-blow-job eyes. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Stop it,” he practically breathes out the words. 

It’s kind of cute. Pathetic, but cute. Maybe Viktor is teasing him too much. Or maybe not enough, seeing as he was going to deny ever meeting Viktor at all. It would explain why he didn’t call or text him after the last week or so.

Viktor doesn’t have to live with the guilt of meeting him in the bathroom and blowing him. As a ‘straight man’, Jayce does. And there is a good chance he may or may not regret it. At that point, there is nothing he can do to change his mind or persuade him to continue what they had started. 

Like he said before, Jayce is a straight man. Who just so happened to have gotten his dick sucked by gay man in the bar bathroom. Someone is in denial, and it is certainly not Viktor.

“Just,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “act natural, okay? From this point on, neither of us has done anything incriminating together.”

Viktor frowns, his eyebrows pulling together in the middle of his forehead. “What about our romantic moments the other night at Topside? Did my bathroom blowjob mean nothing to you?”

Jayce huffs, his lips folding in a tight line. “Very funny.”

“All right, all right. We can act, whatever you call it, chill with each other. But are you really so concerned that she is going to find out about your birthday?”

Jayce pinches the bridge of his nose as he nods his head side to side. “Yes. I am.” He flashes his eyes at Viktor, taking on a more serious look. “Listen, I don’t know how close you two are, or what you know about us, but… we—”

“Let me guess,” Viktor deadpans. “You have sex?”

“Yes,” Jayce exhales, relieved almost. “And recently, it’s like,” he runs a hand through his hair and drags it away from his face, “like a switch has flipped for us. Things have been good. Really good. I want to keep it that way, you know?”

Viktor scoffs. “You are lucky I do not have many friends because you’re oversharing a lot.”

Jayce winces, hands dropping to his sides. “Sorry. Too much?”

“No. State your case.”

His shoulders drop, and what seems like only a brief weight has passed. “She’s a good friend of mine, someone I really care for, and I don’t want to mess things up…” 

“Well,” he crosses his arms, “she is a good friend of mine, too, so I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t ruin things, either. But I also wouldn’t want things to get complicated later on if you so choose to ignore what’s happened between us.”

Jayce’s brows flatline. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Viktor raises an eyebrow at him. “You don’t think there is a slight possibility that our encounter may have something to do with your sudden spike in libido?”

He squints. “No…”

“You know, Jayce, I conducted a voluntary research project just last semester on the human sensory faculty and its connection to the brain. On how it could translate between pain and empathy. More specifically, how our inclination to feel a particular sense can become so profound that our brains will mimic the feeling. It seems your situationship has just proven my theory.”

“And what is this theory of yours?”

“The placebo effect can be transferable between two individuals,” he states matter-of-factly. He hums with pride like he has just proven his theory. Because, in a way, he has. “Both you and Mel are feeling the powerful side effects of having sex with a gay man.”

Jayce’s eyes widen. “You’re having sex with her too?”

“No. I am talking about your sexual relationship with Mel improving because you had sex with me,” he gestures with his hands, “a gay man.”

A sarcastic laugh breaks from Jayce’s lips. It sounds condescending and mean, but Viktor isn’t bothered by it. Jayce, however, is very adamant about his statement from before. It seems like he needs to set the record straight, quite literally. 

“I told you, I’m straight. I’ve slept with women. That makes me straight.”

“And one man,” he adds.

“Half-sex,” Jayce grits. “It was half-sex.”

A few snickering giggles can be heard from behind him, a trio of gossiping girls who had been there well before Viktor and Mel had claimed their spot along the wall that just so happened to have dropped into the conversation at the wrong time. Jayce’s face immediately flushes red. He sucks in a deep breath, loading another counter-argument in his throat, but Viktor jumps ahead.

“All right, all right.” He waves his hand in acceptance, anything to ease the tension growing over Jayce’s body. “You had half-sex with a gay man, so that makes you as straight as a board. Does that sound better?”

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” Mel announces her appearance with impeccable timing.

Both Viktor and Jayce are startled by her sudden presence, but play it off as naturally as they can. Jayce shoots Viktor one final glance, a plea for his cooperation. He doesn’t bother giving him a response before turning to his friend.

“Hardly,” Viktor teases. 

She juggles two very full Solo cups of another foreign substance in her hands, and Viktor takes the one she passes to him to relieve her of the stress. He brings it to his nose to give it a quick sniff. Beer. Much better.

Mel takes a long sip from her own drink as she sways back and forth to the music. “What were you guys talking about?”

“School,” they say in unison. They glance at each other, and relief seems to overcome Jayce’s expression. Seems like they can finally agree on something.

“Nerds,” Mel spits again. Viktor rolls his eyes. “Can you talk about something other than school since we’re out right now?”

Jayce interjects with, “Summer classes are still occurring every day until the last week of July.”

“And we’re not exactly out of school,” Viktor adds. “We’re actually still on campus. The neighborhood is connected to the university.”

Mel rolls her eyes and shakes her head again, like a disappointed mother. “You two really know how to start a party.” Then, she’s nodding her head toward the backyard. “Come on. I’d like to get free entertainment from watching the basketball players go against each other in Rage Cage.”

Mel turns to the sliding glass door to the backyard, and Viktor fixes his cane to the ground to follow. He’s about to charge forward in tow when Jayce steps at the same time as him, in the same place. They nearly collide into each other, Jayce’s hand bracing out to stabilize him if needed. But if they had gotten any closer, he’s sure Jayce is likely to combust from whatever wild implications he thinks it gives off. 

They try again, both stepping in the same direction, on the same panel of the wood floor as if there isn’t an entire floor to step on too. They’re about to do it again until finally Jayce gestures his arm out. 

“After you,” he says, followed by a curt smile.

Two can play at that game. Viktor cuts him off, sass laced in his voice like venom. “No, no. I insist.” He bows his head as a gesture for him to go first. Jayce is about to take the offer when he mutters, “Let the disabled man be the caboose.”

Jayce halts in place as his eyes fly open. “I, uh–!”

A boyish whistle echoes to the back door, followed by Jayce’s name. Both turn to the sound. 

The pink-haired girl from the bar, loud and enthusiastic as ever, is waving her friend down from the kitchen. She swings her hand up, thumb and pinkie in the air while mouthing shots, shots, shots in an encouraging mantra. She’s probably his version of how Mel is to Viktor – goading him into going to college parties and drinking cheap liquor from an empty shelf in the kitchen. 

Before Jayce can turn around and say any parting words, Viktor has left to weave through the crowd and find Mel.

Viktor quickly grows bored with Rage Cage within five minutes of sitting by the poorly woven lawn chair.

They’ve watched PSU’s basketball team fumble the ball and let it roll into the pool too many times to count, until finally, they’ve given up and just jumped in, clothes and all. It doesn’t take long for everyone to join them, splashing water onto every dry surface within its vicinity, including Viktor and Mel. She had gotten caught up in conversation with a friend, Elora, and the one thing that pulled her out of it was being splashed by the people in the pool. 

When they had convinced her to jump in, that’s when Viktor took it as his cue to escape. A chance for him to make a break for it. He carefully crosses the hardwood floor after he makes it back inside the sorority house, his Converse squeaking with each step he takes. He just hopes they’ll dry soon enough so he doesn’t have to worry about slipping around all these people. The last thing he would want is to cling to the arm of someone random at a party where he knows no one.

The fact that he’s made it so close to the front door without Mel catching him and luring him back out to the party is a surprise to him. She had said if he wasn’t enjoying himself, he could leave, but… it made her happy he was there. And maybe, just maybe, a little part of him felt intrigued by seeing Jayce there, too. 

Before heading to the front door, he pivots right, taking down the narrow hallway in search of the bathroom. It’s void of any groups, a good amount of people migrating out to the backyard where the pool is now occupied, or taking up the kitchen for drinks, or the dining room for more card games. He’s able to slip down the hall and turn to find the bathroom. The door is closed and locked, so he waits for his turn to the side. 

Viktor pulls out his phone from his pocket, which thankfully was left unscathed by the water. He turns it on. No messages from Mel so far. He’ll wait to send the text when he gets to his Lyft, till he’s halfway down his street and far away from the party so he doesn’t feel bad and end up going back.

That’s the thing. It’s not that he hates parties, it’s that… people have their groups, their people. They converse, they entertain, and they enjoy each other’s company. And Viktor has his person. Mel, in all her intelligence and wisdom and eloquence. They can converse just as easily together, entertain one another, and enjoy each other’s company, even if half of it is in tandem silence. He’s sure of that with Mel. Except, Mel can do that with others, too.

He has his best friend. And she has him, as well as many others. 

Viktor clicks his phone off. He shoves it back in his pocket, and when he looks back up, Jayce is standing in front of him. He fights a stutter that takes his breath at the suddenness of the man’s presence. 

Viktor stares at Jayce. Jayce stares at him. They don’t say anything. Despite the muffled sound of the toilet flushing in the background and the faucet, it’s most likely the only quiet place in the house, quiet enough to hold a conversation. But Jayce chooses not to use words. No. He just raises his thick brows and nods his head to the door, to inside the bathroom, with what Viktor assumes is the invitation for them both to go in. Together. 

Viktor’s mouth parts. He mouths, Now?  

Jayce nods his head, insistent. 

Viktor rolls his eyes, turning his head away from the bathroom door as it swings open. He tries to ignore the previous occupant, but from the corner of his eye, he watches Jayce stiffen as a bubbly blonde girl exits. She turns and instantly lights up at the sight of him. Viktor doesn’t bother watching the two say their faux hellos, and how are yous, and all their boring small talk as he turns into the bathroom and closes the door. 

Only a few seconds pass before the door is opened again after Viktor has settled himself against the bathroom sink, facing the mirror. Jayce managed to slip through the door without attracting any more familiar stragglers and closed it just as fast as he had opened it. Viktor can hear the clicking of the lock and the weighted exhale that leaves Jayce’s lips once he’s taken another step inside, nearly towering behind Viktor. 

He starts with, “We have got to stop meeting in bathrooms like this.”

Viktor looks up at him from the mirror with an arched brow. “You followed me in here.”

“I know.” Jayce takes another step, coming daringly close. “It’s the only place I could think of where we could have some privacy.”

Viktor flips from the sink, throwing his hands back to prop himself on the ledge. Jayce is even closer than it looked from the mirror. The tips of their shoes nearly touch, and Viktor has to shuffle his feet back to gain some distance. He extends his bad leg out to the side, though, giving it a break as he nestles his hips against the counter for support. 

“You could also just text me. Might look a little less suspicious than two men just chatting it up in the bathroom.”

Jayce’s throat bobs. “I don’t really think texting would work for this conversation.”

Oh. Viktor arches a curious brow. “You’ve come to finish what we started?”

“Yes… No.” He exhales, heavy. His eyes squeeze shut. “Okay, yes. But not right now.” Jayce’s eyes open to find Viktor’s pressing stare, and he allows his shoulders to slope, his chest falling. “Let me explain… Okay, maybe I don’t really have to explain. But you know how Mel and I, we… you know .”

Viktor stares harder. “No,” he says flatly, “I don’t know, Jayce.”

Jayce must get nervous when he’s been drinking. All his mumbling and sighing and eye fluttering and lip biting. Or maybe it’s only when he’s in the bathroom with another man. Viktor probably isn’t helping ease his nerves, either. It must have taken a lot from him to come into the bathroom already.

Jayce blows out his cheeks and lets out a deep breath, trying again. “Yes, you do know.”

Viktor jerks his head back in playful defense. “I’m not interested in a throuple. Unless you asked after a few more drinks. But you have to make a really convincing argument.”

“No! No.” Jayce seethes through his teeth before he starts again, trying to sound collected. “Mel and I, we’re just good friends who have sex.”

“Are you sure you’re aware of that?”

“Yes,” he deadpans. “She made it clear that’s all we are. But the sex we’ve had lately… I’ve never had sex like that ever before. I have no idea how this came to be or what I did to deserve it, but…”

Jayce looks at Viktor. Viktor looks at him. By this point, Viktor has heard more about Jayce and Mel’s sex life than he’s ever been willing to share his own with anyone. He keeps things like this — sex with strangers or people he’d considered good friends — rather reserved. Keeps judgment to a minimum and reduces the chances of unpredictability, like connections and miscommunications, for example. 

“I think it has to do with the other night in the bathroom,” he finishes.

For Jayce to come to him with this, it must have been sitting with him for a while.

Viktor squints at him again. “These are two different encounters.” And he was kind of bullshitting him about the theory. “And I wasn’t serious about the theory.”

Jayce sighs through his nose. “I know, but… hypothetically, that theory of yours. The one about the shift in my sex drive. I…” he bites his lip and meets Viktor’s eyes after a moment of wandering away, “I want to test it. I wanted to see if you would let me try again. I wasn’t as engaged in the bathroom at the club as I wanted to be, so I want to give it another shot. This time for both of us. We can… start something based on equal exchange.”

“Well,” he chuckles, almost teasingly. “I thought you did rather adequately, considering you were the one receiving. But do you think I am just going to let you fuck me so you can please some other woman?”

“It’s not like that,” he pleads, voice rising suspiciously high. Viktor gives him that look again, and he seems to pick up on what it means, too. A language of Viktor’s that he’s beginning to learn. “Okay, maybe it’s like that a little. You get something out of it, too, though. It’s mutually beneficial.”

“Let me get this straight.” Viktor clears his throat as he follows Jayce’s eyes closely. “You would like to spark up a purely physical and mutually beneficial relationship with me to improve sex with your situationship, even though you believe having sex with a gay man will tamper with your public image?”

Jayce blinks, and without skipping a beat, “Yes…”

Viktor looks away, saving Jayce from having to watch as he contemplates it. He’s certainly contemplating it.

This does, thankfully, fall into the criteria of predictability. He can set ground rules, enforce boundaries, and when he gets bored or Jayce gets the desired results of this said theory, they can call it quits. Besides, he can test his end today. See how good Jayce’s version of equal exchange really is. If it’s good, it doesn’t hurt to give a little to get a little in return. Hence, the equal exchange.

He comes to his conclusion and signals this by pushing himself away from the counter’s ledge and shoving his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. “Well, you’re lucky you’re hot and I don’t have any plans right now, apart from leaving, so …” 

Jayce’s eyes widen. “Wait, wait, wait.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut before he can get a glimpse of anything. Viktor wasn’t going to flash him, but what other way could he show that he’s serious? It is honestly quite interesting watching Jayce jump back and forth between how deep into this forbidden territory he’s willing to go. Suggesting starting up a friends-with-benefits, he can get behind. Seeing Viktor’s penis, slow down, apparently.

Viktor cocks a brow. “Already backing out?”

“No,” Jayce breathes out, heavy, “no, let me…” He looks around the bathroom, first to the door. “Do you think this is fine?”

Viktor exhales through his nose before he removes his hands from his pants. He unhooks his cane from over the lip of the sink. He swings it toward the door, shoving the handle underneath the knob. It won’t hold in case of a real emergency or intrusion, but maybe it will give Jayce some peace of mind while he’s stuck in the bathroom with him.

He turns to Jayce again. “Better?”

Jayce looks to the wall adjacent to the door. “And the window?” 

It’s half of a full-sized window, if you could even call it that, cracked just enough for fresh air to ventilate through the screen and to hear the party only growing louder outside. It drowns out the rest of the house with sound.

Viktor looks back at him, making a scoff that sounds close to a chuckle. “We’re not going to experience a burglary.”

Jayce is still staring at the pathetic excuse for a window. “You never know the things people do when they’re drunk–”

“Jayce.”

He looks at Viktor, eyes immediately softening. “Hm?”

Viktor lays his hand on Jayce’s shoulder. Jayce doesn’t flinch or tense under the weight of it, but his eyes drop down to Viktor’s hand. The black tee he’s wearing, a piece of cloth that has miraculously remained stitched together by the seams, stretches as he sucks in a deep breath, air filling underneath Viktor’s palm as it moves across the expanse of his chest. 

He can feel the steadiness of his breath give way, his heart thumping, growing in speed. His hand moves, again, this time up to the column of his throat, fingers hooked around his neck, grazing his bobbing adam’s apple before his thumb finds his chin. He uses it to guide Jayce’s attention back to him.

A soft, barely there smile curls on Viktor’s lips, and Jayce’s eyes refuse to leave it.

“Just fuck me already,” he says, almost impatiently until, “please.”

Jayce’s mouth parts, bottom lip staggering, before he nods slowly. Viktor doesn’t have to say anything else before he, with that unwavering gaze, slowly drops to his knees in front of him. Viktor’s hand follows him all the way down, until it’s cupped to the side of his face, feeling the fire-like heat building on his cheeks as Jayce reaches a hand out to Viktor’s leg, his weaker one.

“Is your leg okay like this?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. 

Viktor looks down for a moment, specifically at the hand that cradles it almost entirely. Jayce’s thumb rotates over his pant leg back and forth, as if the motion would soothe the ache that was bound to radiate down his calf in due time. The gesture is nice, yes, but Viktor isn’t used to this kind of… politeness when it comes to sexual exchanges.

Viktor swallows. “Don’t worry about it,” he utters under his breath as Jayce’s eyes flutter when he turns his head more inquisitively. “I can manage.”

Jayce nods again, silently. Unsure of what to say or do at this point besides let his hands crawl up, up, up, and curl into the loose waistband of his pants. 

This, for Viktor, is kind of new, as much as it is for Jayce. He personally couldn’t remember the last time he had been on the receiving end of sexual encounters like this. While he does often receive some sort of payout from the strangers he hooks up with, he’s not usually the one enjoying it the most. It’s never in his favor.

It had been a while since he’d had sex, actually. Before his final exams in May. Some fleeting one-night stand, a stranger he had met at a gay bar on the opposite side of town. He had sucked the guy off, too, but not nearly as feverishly and toe-curling as he did with Jayce. He had dealt with the grubby fingers combing through his hair, the rough bully of half-naked hips, the thick hand jerking Viktor against the cold porcelain sink until he finished.

It had done the trick. He got what he wanted from the guy and moved on. All he needed was a quick stress relief. But he had to put in more effort than would be deemed an equal trade-off to get it — having to get himself drunk enough to enjoy it, to talk to the guy enough to convince him, to fake everything enough to inflate the guy’s ego so Viktor had the chance to finish, too. All that work, and he wasn’t even one receiving most of the time. 

So, yeah. So far, this is different. Way different than before. And Viktor doesn’t know what to do as Jayce sits on his knees in front of him, moments from taking a dip into his questionable sexuality as he pulls down his pants. 

Jayce struggles getting his pants over Viktor’s growing hard-on. His hands fly up, fingers quickly and nervously fumbling with the button and zipper. When he manages to bunch them down around Viktor’s knees, Jayce just… stares, blinking at his clothed erection. Not quite in awe. Not in fear. But a sort of… uncertainty.

“I’m not sure if this was what you were expecting,” Viktor says slowly. “But it won’t change, no matter how long you stare at it.”

“Sorry, I just—” Jayce shakes his head, “—I don’t know what I was expecting, either.” 

Viktor tilts his head, a look of confusion cast over his face. “Did you think I had something other than a penis in my pants?”

“No. No, it’s not that. It’s just…” his eyes flash up to Viktor’s, “it’s bigger than I anticipated.”

It takes a lot for Viktor not to let out the chuckle bubbling in his throat. Instead, he offers him a playful smirk. “They come in different shapes and sizes. Credit to evolutionary diversity.”

“Duly noted.” He immediately backtracks his words. “Just in this context, though. ‘Cause I’m not—”

“Not gay,” Viktor cuts him off. “Yes, I’ve been made aware.”

Jayce looks back down again. His hand travels up his thigh until it’s splayed over the meatier part of Viktor’s hip, fingers wrapped around the curve, and his thumb pressed into the fleshy part of his pelvis. Not touching him just yet, but enough to get familiar with feeling hands in foreign places. On parts of Viktor where they would not normally go on others. 

“You’ll have to be patient with me,” Jayce says, almost shakily. “I’ve never done this before.”

“You can start slow, Jayce,” Viktor breathes, hoping the softness in his voice would ease his nerves, even just a little. “There is no rush. Just your hand is fine.”

Viktor remembers his first time. It was with a guy he met in one of his classes his freshman year at PSU. He was nervous, too, like Jayce. Shaky hands and fluttering eyelashes. Also like Jayce. Talking just out of pure nervousness, anything to remind his racing heart that he was still in control. And unlike how it is with Jayce right now, Viktor’s first time ended in messy, rough, and quick. 

He had discovered through trial and error that it gets easier the more you do it, and the more confident you are with your mouth. Viktor won’t put Jayce through that to learn how to adapt.

Jayce doesn’t take heed of his words, anyway. No. He leans forward, eyes still panned up to Viktor, getting cut off by his lashes. His mouth opens, and his tongue darts out as he leans in toward Viktor’s clothed cock. When his lips encircle his throbbing head, Jayce breathes into the moist material separating skin from skin, and Viktor clutches his hand to the sink tightly. 

Jayce’s wet tongue flattens over his dick through his boxers, and Viktor is the first to make a sound. It’s a pathetic sound, honestly. A half-whine, half-groan that comes from deep in his throat. A sound of mourning, of how long it’s been since he’s been touched like this.

His mouth is warm, so incredibly warm. And wet. With how much he had been talking on and on and on about how not gay he is, how nervous he has seemed, he would’ve thought it would be as dry as a desert. But Jayce’s mouth soaks his briefs as he slowly, pathetically mouths at the round head. It’s all he seems to know how to do, really. Just to lave at it and fondle it with his lips, as if it would kiss back. As if it were a pussy. As mouthing at it would give him the same reactions he’s used to.

His eyes have fluttered shut now, brows furrowed at the center of his forehead, his jaw moving in a stroking pattern as his lips move around Viktor from the outside. Not being able to see what he’s mouthing probably gives him the illusion that what he’s doing isn’t really as gay as it seems. Viktor will entertain it for the time being. He moves his hand from the side of Jayce’s head, raking his fingernails over the fresh fade of his scalp, and drawing him in slightly, testing how far Jayce will go.

Jayce accepts, parting his mouth even more to cover his clothed cock. He sighs into it, more audible than just a breath, and Viktor feels the sound vibrate against his cock and into his gut. He has to hold back the sound that nearly barreled from his throat. 

It’s because of his briefs, he thinks. Yeah, the briefs. Unnecessary friction is getting in the way of the real, raw sensation. A mask to what’s really there. But the thought of it being that for the first time in a while, he’s the one getting sucked, and it being by the hands and mouth of, in sexually identifying terms, a gay virgin, might be a bit of a turn on. Maybe Viktor takes pride in being Jayce’s first.

His boxers gather the saliva soaking from Jayce’s mouth like a sponge, making the feeling of his tongue feel even stronger than before. Jayce’s tongue curls upward, on the underside of his shaft. And he strokes, and strokes, and strokes, as if he thinks he can lick away the cotton parting them from bare skin, until that sensitive strip of his cock is raw and tender and in need of air. 

He’s an amatuer at this, mouthing at him like he has a fucking pussy, and yet, it’s enough to make Viktor weak in the knees.

“D-don’t be shy now, Jayce,” he mutters under gritted teeth. “You can put it in your mouth, now, can’t you?”

Jayce, still void of any words, doesn’t pull away as he pinches his boxers in his hand, shimmying them down in pathetic little tugs until those too are bunched by his brace. He backs his head away as Viktor’s dick, red and aching and glistening with pre-cum, springs from between his legs and right in front of him. That’s when he stops, staggers for a moment, his eyes flying up to Viktor for confirmation.

“You don’t have to. You know that, right?” He nods before gently caressing his thumb over Jayce’s temple.

Jayce’s eyes flutter back down to his cock, and Viktor watches as his breath shudders. He loosens his hand from the side of his face, hovering almost, giving him the chance to back away if he so chooses. But he doesn’t. 

He’s incredibly committed to testing out this bullshit theory Viktor made up that he takes his dick in hand, which feels oddly small in comparison to the size of his palm. He holds it as if he hadn’t held one before. It’s cute, in a way, Jayce being almost gentle and nurturing with it. It’s not like that for long when he squeezes his eyes shut and closes his lips around his tip. So slowly, so hesitantly, he drags his mouth down about halfway, getting used to the feeling of fullness. 

When he pulls back, his teeth ever so gently graze against the underside of his cock, and Viktor hisses. “Shit, use your tongue. Please.”

Jayce stalls for a brief moment before flattening his tongue again. His cock wedges better this way, giving it more room to breath, but still enveloping it in that tight, wet heat. Then, Jayce is moving in a stiff, uniform pattern back and forth, and going down as much as he can without pushing too far. It’s a slow, brutal pace, dragging pleasant shivers through Viktor’s body in waves, rolling all the way down to his cramped toes. 

“F-Fuck,” he groans. 

He stifles a grunt, clenching his jaw as he tips his head back. Every swallow of his cock in Jayce’s mouth, it’s like he’s trying to literally suck the soul of him. It feels great, amazing, even.

“Th-that’s it, Jayce, ” Viktor hushes under his breath, facing the ceiling. “Easy now. Not too hard.”

Jayce pulls back slowly, a soft pop coming from below. Viktor looks down, capturing the way his mouth hovers over the tip, his lips coating in a sheen layer of saliva, and oh fuck. He wants to lick the flavor off, taste it in his mouth, share it with him. He wants to kiss it off his lips, suck on them, bite them. 

He gently cups his other hand to Jayce’s face, holding the sides of his head. “You do not have to go far. Just take what you can.”

Jayce’s voice tumbles out of his mouth. “But… I want it to feel good.”

He grazes his thumb over Jayce’s cheekbone, which still burns red. “It will.”

Jayce moves forward again, this time with much more determination blazing in his eyes than before. He closes his mouth around him and drags it down, down, down, until he’s blinking quickly to adjust to the length his cock is reaching. He pulls back again, then, keeping those eyes on Viktor without fail, he surges forward even more, and takes in as much of him as he can.

Viktor’s brows thread together, and his lip curls between his teeth, sharp enough to draw blood. He can feel it, fuck, he can feel the sensitive head of his cock wedge itself inside the tightness of his throat. He knows Jayce has never had anything breach this far; he can tell by the way his throat contracts around him, tight and suffocating. 

It chokes a breath out of Viktor. Jayce retracts, gagging as he does, but doesn’t back down. He draws his head forward again, Viktor’s cock disappearing inside the depths of his throat, and he has to swallow the sounds threatening to come out.

Just like that, Viktor’s orgasm is soon approaching. It takes a few minutes longer than normal for him to finish, but Jayce is a fast learner. An ambitious one, at that. He works himself on Viktor in a new, improved way each time he drags his mouth down, taking Viktor further and further, until he’s hitting the back of his throat without so much of a cough. What he can’t fit in his mouth, he strokes with his free hand. 

Viktor has to card a hand through Jayce’s hair. “You-you should get off–”

Jayce hums in question as he continues to swallow him whole. Viktor forces Jayce’s face away as his orgasm peaks. He cups his fist over his cock, stroking himself in quick, frantic motions until he’s coming into the palm of his hand. He pants and whines so much, yet so quietly, he thinks, no, he knows he sounds feral. But Jayce watches him the entire time, never daring to look away from his leaky cock or his ruddy face.  

Viktor manages to catch his breath, his gut uncurling. He shudders as he slowly drags his hand down, lathering his own come down on his quivering cock. Quicker than he can deny him, Jayce is leaning forward, tongue darting out and laving up running beads of hot, white stickiness trickling down his knuckles, brushing up to the tip of his cock. Viktor lets out a broken groan, jaw locking at the raw sensation. Jayce gathers it with the swipe of his tongue and drops back down to his haunches as he tastes him.  

Viktor’s back slumps forward as he comes down from the overwhelming sensation of that orgasm. His breath is still catching up to him as he says, “You didn’t have to–”

“I know,” Jayce says, face flushed. He takes a fist and uses it to wipe his mouth as he stands. “This is just testing the theory.”

Viktor chuckles sarcastically, weakly, though. He looks around at what to use to clean himself off, opting for the box of tissues on the shelf above the toilet to wipe himself dry for now until he can get home and rinse. He swipes a couple tissues, cleaning his hand first, then the remaining stickiness on his dick. He tosses the soiled bunch in the trash can beside the toilet.

“So…” Jayce tests, trying to occupy his hands while Viktor tucks himself back into his boxers and zips up his pants. “Should we maybe plan something for next week, or…?”

“Hold on,” Viktor says sharply as he turns to face the sink, flipping the faucet on. He washes his hands while maintaining eye contact through the mirror, “If we’re going to be doing this, we need to lay out some ground rules. I may have been willing to fuck you in the bathroom on a whim, but if we are to be doing this, I would prefer not to catch anything. We should both get tested, just to be safe.”

Jayce nods, not an ounce of hesitation or reluctance in his voice. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. Better safe than sorry.”

“Good.” He pivots from the sink, using the nearby towel to dry his hands. “And if you’re having sex with Mel, you’re not allowed to fuck her and then me, or vice versa. Just because you have two cookies, it does not mean you get to have them both at the same time.”

“Yeah, okay.” He’s still nodding. It’s like he’s never stopped agreeing. “That’s fine. One at a time.”

Viktor pauses a moment, dropping his hands to the ledge of the sink again to ease the weight of his legs. He stares at Jayce, gauging whether or not he can throw one final condition into the mix. “And this is merely sex, not a strip show. There is no need to get naked for each other. We’ll meet up to get the job done, and that’s it.”

“Got it,” Jayce answers, not bothering, or likely willing, to fight with him. “If you’re laying out some ground rules, I’d like to as well. And that’s no more bathroom meet-ups. I can’t keep doing this if it’s not in a bed. So, either mine or yours next time.”

Viktor shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Eh, I’ve had it in worse locations than this.”

Jayce arches a brow, pressing for an explanation.

“Don’t worry. It will only make for interesting pillow talk.”

Jayce hums, but moves on to the next ground rule that comes to mind. “We’ll stick to not kissing each other, too.”

“Ah, this again,” he answers with a sarcastic chuckle. “Shall we discuss the successes of our research while we fuck instead?”

“I’m intrigued, but no .” Jayce mimics Viktor’s position, crossing his arms and leaning against the door beside him. “You said it yourself, it’s just sex. Kissing makes things feel more emotional than they need to be. It’s a rule I follow with… Mel, for the sake of our friendship. Keeps things from getting too intimate.”

“I think the sex might be what makes your friendship a bit intimate, but I digress.” Viktor shakes his head to ease his worries. “You do not have to worry about intimacy with me. Besides, I prefer not to stick around for what is it called… aftercare? Spooning?”

Viktor watches the words take their hit. Jayce struggles with hiding the disappointment on his face as he folds his lips in a tight line, tipping his chin down. 

“You like to cuddle,” he deadpans. It’s a statement, rather than a question. 

Jayce clears his throat and straightens his spine. “New rule – we’re not just having sex, then leaving immediately after. We have to at least stay with each other for a little bit. Talk about our day. Check in with the other. It feels unnatural for me to just abandon someone like that.”

Viktor inhales, his chest expanding. He holds on to his breath in protest before he finally exhales, the words tumbling out. “Fine. We can mock domesticity, just for your conscience’s sake. Maximum five minutes, then we part.”

Jayce frowns, shaking his head. “Uhm, no. I say fifteen.”

Viktor jerks his chin back. “Seven,” he refutes.

“Twelve.”

“Four.”

Jayce gives him an incredulous look. “That’s even lower than before!”

“Fine,” Viktor huffs, “nine minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Nine and a half.”

“Are you really counting seconds?”

“Science is about precision, Jayce. You should know this. Shall we test for eight minutes?”

“Nine and a half minutes,” Jayce settles, shoulders dropping. “No earlier, no later.” 

“Good.” Viktor’s brows rise in victory, a smug little smile tugging on his lips. “Anything after that, and you might fall in love with me.” 

Jayce blinks. 

He raises his hands in defense. “I’m kidding, Jayce. Jeez.”

“Right. Yeah. You know,” he gestures to himself, “straight.”

“As anyone can be,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes. 

Jayce doesn’t fight him on it any further, instead letting the room fall to silence. Or as close to silence as it could get with the sounds infiltrating from the backyard through the window above the shower and down the hall from the living room.

This is the part that Viktor is unfamiliar with. What happens now? He usually just leaves by this point. No need to linger around longer than necessary. He never entertains the concept of aftercare, either, or even just chatting with the other when all you have in common is your mutual sexual attraction. Viktor just looks down at his feet, using the tip of one shoe to move around the knotted laces on the other. 

Is this how things like this — friends with benefits, fuck buddies, frequent sex exchanges, etc. — are made? By meeting a stranger willing to test some theory for the sake of his sexuality, making terms and conditions for having sex with one another, arranging times to meet up, and following through? This has to be a unique experience for both of them, Viktor thinks. He doesn’t do consistent things like this, but even he knows this has to be new territory. 

Viktor clears his throat amidst the silence, looking around for anything else to say. He and Jayce make eye contact. “Any other requests?”

“No. No, I think that’s it,” Jayce says softly, almost tiredly. 

Viktor nods his head toward the sound vibrating against the small glass pane window. “You should get back out there, then. Your other purely physical and mutually beneficial transactional partner probably wants some company by the pool.”

Jayce folds his lips with a stifled chuckle. He rubs the back of his neck as he looks Viktor up and down. “What about you? Are you going to come back out?”

“Eh, this isn’t really my scene.” He waves his hands as he reaches for his cane hooked under the door knob. “Just tell her that my leg was bothering me, and I decided to catch a Lyft home.”

This time, the leg excuse really is true. He fought through it enough, but now he can use it as his ticket to get back home and stay off of it. Mel would be proud of his withstanding of being here, he thinks. He hopes.

“Okay, well,” Jayce stands up straight, his hands falling to his sides again. He gifts Viktor with a faint smile. “Thanks for tonight.”

Being thanked after a quick blow job, which he didn’t even do, is certainly a first. Viktor holds back his chuckle. “You’re welcome, Jayce.”

They move at the same time. Jayce has his arms outstretched to envelope Viktor between them, whereas Viktor’s hand stops him from moving in further. They stop, they stare at one another, they shuffle awkwardly as he tries to find the right parting gesture, when Viktor just gives up and welcomes Jayce’s embrace. It’s a bit awkward at first. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, even given the sheer size of Jayce’s back. But he opts for a simple pat on the back before pulling away. 

Jayce flashes him one last parting smile before turning and reaching for the door handle. He cracks the door open, peeking outside for anyone lingering in the hall, then he’s stealthily slipping out without another word. Viktor stares at the closed door for a few passing seconds before pulling his phone out to call for a ride home and text Mel goodnight.

Chapter Text

Contrary to his performance in the bathroom at Mel’s party the other night, Jayce had learned the practice of purely physical, mutually beneficial relationships in his first year of college. 

Piltover State University. Fresh eighteen-year-old undergrad with the bright memories of high school far behind him and his equally bright future twinkling ahead of him. 

Jayce proudly walked through the doors of PSU with his chest puffed and a little pep in his step. He was ready for what college had to offer him. Guys quickly befriended him. Pretty girls sweet-talked him in the halls. Everyone adored him and his charm. And just as easily as he was loved by all in high school, he was loved there, too. 

So when some brunette from his Biochemical Engineering class asked him if she could come over to his house so he could tutor her before their next exam, he happily agreed. 

Because, truly, wholeheartedly, Jayce believed it would be just like high school, where everyone would put their hand down and groan in relief when he raised his own to answer the questions on the board because they trusted him (they knew he just wanted to help them answer the question). He would be that guy. And he was… in his own way.

By then, Jayce’s father was out of the picture, gone, vanished, absent, and his mother had been at work that day, leaving the house empty for them to study. Jayce remembered everything his mother taught him, and he was a gentleman the entire time the girl was over — held the door open for her, put a snack together for them to share, and made sure she was comfortable. Hey, he even made her laugh! 

Together, they settled on the couch, textbooks splayed open on the cushions in front of each other as they bounced concepts off one another. Well, more like Jayce rambling about the material so passionately while she watched him with an intense stare. He enjoyed talking about things he was confident in; he could go on for days about his studies. 

Some time had passed, and eventually, she had closed her textbook and completely disregarded her notes. And when she had sunk from the couch to her knees in front of Jayce, tied her hair back, and put her hands on his thighs as he went on and on and on about oh-so fascinating metabolic regulation… he realized she might not actually care about biochemical engineering. Or him in the first place. 

Nonetheless, he let her unbuckle his pants and shut him up.

See, Jayce wasn’t (and isn’t) an idiot. He wasn’t a virgin then, either. His senior year of high school, he had christened his room with his first girlfriend, a classmate of his he had known for some time by then, which lasted about two minutes (the relationship itself lasted about two weeks). So, he knew what he was doing, how everything worked, and how to hide the evidence if, god forbid, his mother forgot about a little something called privacy.

But amid this so-called study session, between the girl using her hand and her mouth on him in ways he didn’t think possible, he did, unfortunately, make eye contact with that portrait of Jesus Christ hanging above the mantle in his mother’s living room. 

The same one that had been watching him since he was a little boy, a gift to his mother from his abuela. The same one she used to pray to when they struggled to put food on the table or pay rent that month. The same one he remembers begging to come on, say something, do something, when he was in the middle of being punished by his father, something that never seemed to end. 

And Jayce knew deep inside his gut, he would not be meeting any god or likewise being come his time. 

Nonetheless, Jayce pushed down his burning guilt, held back all the incriminating sounds that girl was pulling out of him, and tried to enjoy that high for the rest of the four minutes it took for him to finish.

That instance wasn’t the last time he experienced a purely physical relationship with someone. He never found anything to be meaningful or worthwhile after about a week or so, as much as he wanted to. As much as the hopeless romantic in him had wanted to make every heart-swooning gesture he could pull from the book, he never did. Maybe out of fear of rejection? Humiliation? Who knows.

He also knows he just didn’t have the time to entertain it. When you’re as busy as he was — full-time university student, full-time finding whatever odd job he could to make money —  all he needed was a little help blowing off steam after exams. He learned that a quick meaningless fuck usually did the trick. Usually. 

Each time, it mocked the very first time he had engaged in something emotionless and mutually beneficial. He had seen the look in each of their eyes — that sultry gaze as they bobbed their heads up and down on his cock, or the way they threaded their brows together and parted their lips in a perfect O as they rode him to the awaited finish line. And after a while, that look in their eyes stopped haunting him the next day. He didn’t usually think twice about it. 

But days later, post-party blow job, all he can see, all he can hear, all he can fucking think of is Viktor. His hands, his mouth, his voice. Just fucking Viktor.

Maybe it’s the guilt boiling inside of him. The burning eyes of Christ Almighty that had somehow followed him from his childhood home to the comfort of his bed as he palms himself to the thought of Viktor’s lips around him, the thought of his lips around Viktor. But it’s been well over a week since it happened, and it still haunts his waking thoughts.

Jayce imagines this is what it feels like to do drugs. Like really hardcore drugs. It’s the closest comparison he could make based on the very little experience he has in doing them.

And he is so done for. 

There’s no going back now. He’s consumed it and unknowingly opened a door to what may have become a very, very bad habit. He’s had a little here and a little there, and boom, just like that, he’s aching to hit up his dealer for his next hit.

Jayce sits at the end of his bed, having just gotten done with homework that he had been pushing off, and wiggles his thumb over his “dealer’s” contact. 

Viktor (Topside)

Viktor had put his number in his phone for a reason. Granted, it was before their encounter at Mel’s party, but it was still there for him to use. To finish what they started, which Jayce knows they still have yet to do, but also to commence the beginning of… whatever they are. How else would they be able to engage in their mutual exchange if all they did was wait and wait and wait for the other to call or text?

Would Jayce be the one to break the silence? 

Hypothetically, if he opened his iMessage and typed out the text, it would only remain a text message and not an invitation so long as he doesn’t press the send button. If it just stays typed in the message bar, never to be sent, then it’s fine, right? If he waits long enough… would Viktor initiate first contact?

It’s a foolproof plan… until Jayce realizes that he never gave Viktor his number.

Shit. Well, the ball is in his court. Now it’s all about figuring out how. He tries typing out a couple of messages to potentially send. 

I want to see you again.

Way too forward. Delete. 

When can I see you again?

Too passive. Delete again.

What are you up to?

What, are they in middle school now? About to play 21 questions? Delete, delete, delete.

Think, Jayce. He needs something simple. Something that says, “this is a normal text between two men with no underlying sexual tension,” something… that sounds like Jayce.

You up?

No, that’s not it either. It’s 7:20 PM on a Friday, of course he’s up.

But he instinctively presses the blue arrow anyway, and feels his gut sink as he watches the delivered message appear beneath it. Fuck. Okay, there. He sent it. He might not have meant to send it right away, but he sent it. No turning back now. 

Jayce feels like a maniac, sitting at the end of his bed and staring at the idle screen. As if burning his eyes into his phone would give him the power to un-send the message from both his and Viktor’s phones. 

It’s not a big deal, really. It’s just a text message, a simple code sent through the infinite cloud of technology. Plus, he might not have even given him the right number. He’ll just have to wait it out and—

Delivered turns to read. 

Jayce shuts his phone off and chucks it across the bed, watching it land on top of his pillow. Then, he instantly regrets it as he sits at the end of his bed with his face in his hands, wondering what Viktor will respond with. If he’ll even respond with anything. He wouldn’t blame him for ignoring him. It was such a half-assed opening message. 

His face burns at the thought of Viktor’s reaction. Of him, wherever he is — at the bar, out with Mel, in his bed. In his bed. Opening the message, that short chuckle he does when he’s humored—

Jayce’s phone begins to violently buzz on top of his pillow. 

He whips his head back to find the screen lighting up, a grey background with Viktor (Topside) scrolling across. He doesn’t think twice before climbing over the mattress and reaching for the phone. He swipes his thumb over the green accept button, stands up straight, and holds it to his ear as he begins pacing in front of his bed.

“Hello?” His voice cracks. Fuck. Why did his voice crack? 

He swallows and squeezes his eyes shut as he awaits his impending doom.

“What do you want?” Viktor rasps from the other end, unbothered and unhurried.

Wait a minute, Viktor called him. 

“Wait, why did you call?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end. “Why did you text?”

“Why did you give me your number?”

Another extended pause followed, Jayce stopping his pacing, and now he’s considering the possibility that this really isn’t Viktor’s phone number and he just you up? texted a random person. 

Viktor’s accent is undeniable when he finally asks, “Who is this again?”

His shoulders drop. “Jayce,” he answers flatly, “from Topside.”

There’s a low hum from the other end of the phone, almost in surprise. “Hm. For a while, I didn’t think you’d ever text me.”

He resumes his pacing. “Well, I am now. That’s what the number is for, I think. Besides, we have an agreement, don’t we?”

“Is that what you want?” Viktor asks, although it sounds like he already knows the answer. “To cash in?”

Now that it’s being aired out over the phone, it’s becoming more of a real thing than it was before. Plans are being organized, moves being made, motives questioned. 

Jayce chews on his bottom lip, an anxious tick. “When you say it like that, it almost sounds like prostitution.”

A sarcastic chuckle comes from Viktor. “Sorry for my crass terminology,” he says unapologetically. “Are you ready to wine, and dine, and possibly 69?” 

There’s an awkward pause that holds up both ends of the phone. 

Jayce finally asks, “Where did you learn that from?” 

“I don’t know,” Viktor mumbles under his breath. “Undergrad, I believe?”

Jayce stifles a short chuckle as he moves on, continuing his light pacing in front of his bed. “Well, yeah. I do want to see you again. But we’ll warm up to that last part, if you don’t mind,” he sighs, his chest deflating. The words are out; no going back now. Except when he doesn’t hear a response from Viktor, his nerves fire off again. “If-if that’s all right. I’m sure you’re busy and all—”

Viktor’s answer is short. “What time?”

“Oh,” Jayce can’t hold back the surprise in his voice, “you meant tonight. Uh, I’m not sure.” He pans over to the clock on his nightstand. “Maybe eight PM? I can go to yours if it’s easier. I’ll bring something to drink. Coffee? Tea? Wine—”

He cuts him off with a curt, “Send me your address. I’ll be over at eight PM.”

The call ends before Jayce can say anything else, leaving him to stare down at the idle screen. 

Just like that. He and Viktor made plans to see each other as if it were as easy as scheduling an appointment. No dramatic courtesies, no accommodations, no compromising. Just simple and straight to the point. If it was always that easy to set up something to boost his sex drive, maybe he should have tried this thing — this experimental sexual relationship — a long time ago. 

Soon enough, after enough time spent overthinking, Viktor’s text appears underneath Jayce’s.

Viktor (Topside): I’m on my way

That’s when reality sinks in. Jayce is on the couch, a pathetic excuse of a loveseat in the middle of his front room. He shoots up from the sunken-in cushions when his phone dings and the message banner appears. The text itself is enough to send a surge of anxiety coursing through his body. Not because of the arrangement, but the state of their meeting place.

He takes a look around his living room, which is connected to his half-kitchenette, and also his bedroom. Stale mugs are scattered on almost every open surface, notes and various textbooks paired with them, a recipe for late-night studying sessions, and his laundry hamper is topped to the brim. And he can’t even get started on the pile of shoes near the front door. Seriously, how many pairs does he really need?

Jayce is up on his feet in seconds, collecting all of the half-filled mugs left on nearby surfaces and rushing them over to the kitchen sink. Then, he’s piling his notes together, not caring for the mixing of finished and unfinished pages, and slipping them between the pages of his textbooks for later use. The laundry will have to wait until tomorrow, when the laundromat is open, so the basket finds a new home in his closet. But the shoes he’s willing to tackle right then before he forgets. 

He gets halfway into scrubbing rings of dried tea off of the various mugs left in the sink when his phone begins to buzz from his pocket. He manages to dry his soapy hands off and pull it out of his pants before the ringing ceases. He reads the caller ID — Mom.

Damn. Now, out of all times she decides to call, she thinks now is the best time?

He’ll never ignore a call from his mom, but her timing couldn’t be any worse than this. When he’s literally moments from opening the door to his… what could he even call Viktor at this point? Bathroom hookup? Sex partner? Blowjob buddy? 

Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t need to know anything about what he’s doing with his free time right now. He’ll answer the call, chat for a few minutes, then end the conversation before Viktor arrives, which could be any minute now.

He swipes the answer button and clears his throat. “Hi, ma.” 

“Hi mijo,” his mother’s voice, as always, sounds so soft and so dear. Even as a kid, he couldn’t ever recall hearing her ever raise her voice at him or anyone. “Are you well? I missed hearing your voice.”

Jayce can’t help the soft smile that curls on his lips. “It’s only been three days since our last phone call, you know.”

His mother clicks her tongue. “Oh, I know that. You just sound so… old now.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, thanks. Is that why you called? To tell me I sound old.”

“Oh, no. You know I don’t mean it that way. You sound handsome as ever, always.” She sighs, almost somberly, through the phone. “I just wanted to call and talk with my son whom I haven’t seen in, how long has it been, weeks now?”

Jayce’s chest deflates, and he props a hand beside him as he leans against the counter. “I know, ma. I’m really sorry for not visiting. I’ve been… busy this summer. With work and getting ready for grad school, and all. I haven’t had the time to take the drive.”

His mother hums, seemingly disappointed. “You know you can always stay the night. I have your room ready and everything. Just how you left it. And I always have the ingredients to make your favorite. You just tell me when you’re on your way, and I’ll take the chicken out of the freezer.”

Guilt is burning him alive. He squeezes his eyes shut as his voice softens. “I know. And I appreciate it. Really. I promise I’ll try to visit soon. I’ll take you out to dinner to make it up to you, too.”

“Maybe this weekend you could come?” she offers, light hopefulness filling her voice. “You know your cousin, Esmeralda, she’s having her baby’s baptism at the church on Sunday. You should come. See the family. Tus tías siguen preguntando cuándo seré abuela,” she sings the last part.

The timing of her questioning couldn’t be any worse. His mother is asking about when she’s going to be a grandmother, when Jayce can’t even settle down, let alone find the time to get a partner. It probably doesn’t help that he’s sleeping with Mel, and now Mel’s best friend, too. Gods, what a mess he is.

There’s no chance he could bring either of them home to satisfy his mother’s worries. Bringing Viktor is off the table — one, he barely knows the guy, two, they’re only hooking up, and the biggest part, three, he’s gay. Nope. Not even an option. Mel is, unfortunately, also off the table — they may be fuck buddies, but the moment Sevika decides to commit to her, they’re back to being just friends. His mom knows Mel, loves her, but she’ll see right through their little scam.

“Grandchildren? Really, ma?” He tries to sound surprised, although they have this conversation quite frequently. And he can tell when his mother is exaggerating, the silent tone over the phone as evidence. “I’m sure this is just you talking. But if it is my tías asking, you can tell them you’re too young and beautiful to be an abuela just yet.”

She makes a sound of dissatisfaction at his answer, a small hmph. He wonders where she learned this sass from. “You can tell them yourself this weekend.”

Jayce sighs. “I’m really busy this weekend, but give Esme my best wishes.”

There’s a knock at the door, soft and quick. Jayce does a quick shuffle to look over the counter, peaking between the small crevices in the blinds. He catches a glimpse of brown and blond, and knows it’s Viktor. He slowly starts making his way over toward the door, giving himself enough time to part from the phone. 

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Oh,” she says, “okay,” she says softer. And it makes his gut churn just to hear it. “Are you hanging up so soon?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, the remorse in his voice evident. He’ll make it up to her. Eventually. When he sorts everything out in his life and… there’s no need to get into it now. He will make it up to her. “I have something going on right now. Te amo, mamá.”

He can hear the immeasurable disappointment in her voice as she mumbles her goodbye and hangs up. Jayce has to fight everything within himself not to call her right back and beg for her forgiveness. He knows he didn’t do anything wrong, because by some otherworldly power Jayce wasn’t sure of, she would somehow know when he did. Maternal instincts. But it doesn’t ease his nerves thinking that he’s got to explain, but none of it he has the guts to admit to.

Jayce pushes all of this guilt away and shoves his phone back in his pocket. He straightens his shirt out and takes in a deep breath before he swings the door open.

Viktor looks up at the sound, and he sighs out a heavy breath, “Hey.”

He smiles in greeting, soft and sincere. “Hey.” 

Viktor looks… comfortable. He’s in a plain maroon crew neck with very minimalist embroidery of Piltover State University. The sweatshirt is paired with grey sweatpants and dirty brown slippers he seemed to have just slipped on to make his way over. His hair is different than what he’s seen. It’s undone and wavy, cascading down where blond ends curl over his shoulder. He has the front tucked behind his ears, but that doesn’t stop a few strands from falling into his face.

He snaps Jayce out of his staring with, “You could have told me there were going to be stairs.” 

Shit. Jayce’s shoulders slope, and he slides his hand down the door. “I’m sorry. Yeah, there are stairs.”

“No shit.” Viktor nods his head to gesture over Jayce’s shoulder. “Are you gonna let me in, or are we doing this on the balcony?”

“Right, sorry.” He steps back, extending his arm out toward the inside of his apartment. “Welcome.”

Viktor graces him with a simple nod as he passes through the door. Jayce closes it and uses it for a moment to compose himself before turning around and marching forward. 

He’s not sure why he’s so nervous, why his hands are clammy, why his heartbeat is rampant in his chest. It’s just Viktor. He’s seen him twice already, seen his dick once, and surely that’s enough to not be freaked out. But the sight of Viktor standing in the middle of his living room, looking around at all of his belongings —  books, figurines, collectibles, all the nerd shit he loves — he feels like he’s being exposed even more than he was in the bathroom at Topside. 

“Sorry,” he utters. He shuffles over to the side table next to the couch, tilting it a single degree toward the small portable TV on its stand, as if it would make the room feel less suffocating. “I don’t usually have people over.”

“It’s all right,” Viktor says, not bothering to look back at him.

Jayce’s apartment, like many others in the college neighborhood, is close to the size of a shoebox. Four walls, two full-size windows, a half kitchen, a bathroom, and a single wall separating the bedroom from the rest of the flat. It’s not much, but it’s what he can afford while working and going to school full time. And it’s not half bad. Apart from the smell of weed traveling up the vents and the couple two flats down on the first floor fighting and fucking loud enough for the whole complex to hear, he has a place to live.

Viktor inspects his flat almost as if he’s the leasing office. His eyes scan up and down the dingy walls that he’s tried covering up with various posters of his favorite movies, bands, or video games, or the spiderweb-like cracks in the ceiling, which unfortunately still have yet to be fixed. His landlord swore he would have a guy check it out soon. He doesn’t say much as he looks around, either, especially when he becomes transfixed on the Star Wars poster next to the TV.

Jayce clears his throat as he paces to the kitchen, if you could even call it that. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have coffee, tea, sparkling water…”

Viktor pauses for a moment, the clanking of his cane stopping in place before he glances back at Jayce with a soft smile, only the lines of his lips moving. “Tea is fine,” he mumbles, before moving on to the next poster.

“Tea.” Jayce nods and blows out a heavy breath. “Got it.” 

Viktor’s eyes rake over every detail in his apartment as Jayce brews up a double serving of his favorite tea, one he hopes Viktor would like. He pans over the potted plants lining the TV stand that Caitlyn gave him (“to lighten the room up!” she says, living up to the nickname Sprout) and the framed photo of him and his mother at his graduation for his bachelor’s. Decked out in the school's deep red and gold, cords and sashes and money leis weighing his neck down, smiling next to his crying mother clung to his side. It was a great moment, one of his most beloved. 

The picture is enough to pull a smile on Viktor’s lips just by looking at it. He hums softly as he turns to walk deeper into his flat, toward Jayce’s workspace. “Your place. It’s cozy.”

Jayce is drying off the recently cleaned mugs left to dry at the sink, one that reads in dark red “Science: It’s like magic but real”. A personal favorite. “Yeah, well. It’s just me and my research here. I don’t have people over very often, anyway. Not like there’s much space here.”

Viktor nods. “I recall you mentioning.”

Jayce watches Viktor’s hand trail over the rough edges of his desk. It was a workbench from home, something his dad left behind in the garage where he did most of his handiwork. Jayce took it for the sake of having a big enough space for blueprints, tools, and his prototypes, and because it would have been sent to the junkyard otherwise. 

Viktor picks up one of the projects he’s been working on, a minor piece to an entirely bigger and more intricate project that doesn’t quite fit on the desk. But it does, however, fit in his closet. He brings it close to his face and squints at it, nose scrunching when he does. Jayce watches him.

“I do my work from home. A lot of independent studies,” he adds. He takes the squealing kettle and pours the hot water into the mugs, watching the rich earth color spread out from the tea bag.

“I see,” Viktor hums, putting the trinket back down on the workspace. He turns back around, gesturing with a hand to the crowded space, a small smile playing on his lips. “Your desk seems to take up more space than your bed.”

Jayce places the kettle back on the cooling burner, then takes both mugs by their handles. Viktor begins to walk toward the coffee table, B-lining toward Jayce. They sit on the couch across from one another.

“They don’t allow me to do research in the labs anymore,” he confesses. 

Viktor sets his cane against the side of the couch as he looks back at him, an eyebrow raised in question. Jayce catches his stare.

“It’s a long story. No need to bore you with the details,” he finishes as he hands over the warm mug of tea.

Viktor accepts it with a small smile. “Another time, then.”

“Another time,” he confirms.

They wait only a few moments, between blowing on the hot tea and letting their gazes wander across the room at anything to start a conversation with. Frankly, it’s awkward. Weird. Quiet. The first time they met, tipsy and flirty and handsy, they had everything and anything to talk about. It was simple, easy, natural. They could start with one thing and end up on a completely unrelated topic an hour later. 

But now… maybe it’s the fact that they know so much more about each other than before, that’s what makes it hard to talk about it. Do they talk about what they don’t know, or what they do know?

Viktor takes one final sip from his tea before reaching over and setting it down on the coaster on the coffee table. He clears his throat. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Jayce does the same with his own, except he savors the flavor on his tongue longer as he contemplates what to say. “I… I think we need to take it slow, you know. We’re not drunk this time, so we—”

“I wasn’t drunk last time,” Viktor states, his eyes glinting at Jayce. 

Jayce freezes. He realizes things like this, hooking up with men, come much easier for Viktor. And it always will. It’s a part of his identity. He’s come to terms with it, accepted it, embraced it. Jayce, on the other hand, has nothing to accept right now besides his inclination for sex. Because it benefits him. It benefits both of them, really. That’s as deep as it goes and as simple as it can be. 

“Well, I’ll admit that I had a few drinks,” he confesses, shrugging slightly. “Gave me a little confidence to follow through.”

Viktor hums, drawing his lips into a flat smile. “Liquid courage. Do you still want to do this, even without it?”

He texted him, not by using his brain, but using his dick. That he can acknowledge. But now that Viktor is sitting here across from him, and they’re not in public, and they’re not drinking…

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Viktor says once, and only once. He sits up straighter on the couch, twisting his body so he’s turned toward Jayce. At the same time, he takes the hair tie wrapped around his wrist and begins pulling his hair back off his neck into a low ponytail. “Would you prefer to top, or do you want to bottom? I’m not opposed to either.”

Heat blooms on Jayce’s face. He knows what that means, but the expression he makes probably gives off the impression that he doesn’t. It also doesn’t help that his eyes have drifted from Viktor’s, down his face, and over his now exposed neck. Clean, slim, and pale with two very distinct moles on the column of his throat. Jayce swallows down on nothing.

Viktor’s hands drop to his lap now that his hair is out of his face. Little wisps of hair still manage to frame his high cheekbones. And Jayce almost is tempted to pull it back behind his ear, or even, insanely enough, run his hands through that ponytail and mess up his hair beyond repair. 

His thoughts are soon interrupted. “I forget you’re new to this,” Viktor huffs, blowing those loose hairs away, “it’s whether or not you want to take it up the—”

“I’ll top, if you don’t mind,” he cuts in quickly. “And I’m not new, per se. Just… nervous.”

Viktor tilts his head slightly. “What are you nervous about?”

People finding out. People judging him. People rejecting him. His mother being disappointed. His father being right.

“It–” he swallows, shaking his head. He exhales heavily and begins again, slowly. “It doesn’t matter. I want to try this, I do. I’ll deal with my own… consequences later.”

Viktor’s expression softens before he says, “We can take it slow. Your pace, remember?”

Jayce breathes, finally, after what felt like forever. “Thank you.”

“Let’s start by establishing a safe word system,” he starts, his voice soft and sincere. “It will keep us from going too far or pushing any boundaries we’re not comfortable with. I don’t normally use one with the other people I have sex with since they’re often one-night stands. Do you have any ideas?”

Viktor isn’t exclusive, Jayce realizes. He gets around. He hooks up. He fucks. A lot, apparently. And it’s likely all with men. So this is much more normal to him than it will be for Jayce, regardless of his experience. It makes sense why he’s so understanding. He probably was the same way his first time sleeping with a man, too.

“Uh, well,” Jayce clicks his tongue to his teeth as he thinks, then offers, “maybe red light, green light? Green is obviously a given. Yellow means we slow down. And red means we stop.”

Viktor nods. “Yes, that’s good. What are some boundaries you’d like to have with that? Is there anything you don’t want to do?”

He glances around, face contorting in thought. He finally shrugs. “Nothing that will hurt, I guess.”

“So whips and bondage are off the table?” 

Jayce’s eyes fly open. 

Viktor’s eyes match his in size at the realization that his joke did not land well. “I’m kidding,” but the kiddish smirk on his lips wobbles, a chuckle slipping through. “I left that stuff at home.”

Jayce snorts, unable to hold back his laughter, and it comes from a genuine reaction. Hearing Viktor joke around makes things feel less serious than it really is. Like they’re just… friends. Just two friends who are just… trying things out. Testing theories and having sex. Nothing weird or intimate about that.

Viktor lets out a low chuckle, his eyes falling sheepishly to his lap. “Sorry, eh, poorly timed joke.” 

His words, they’re… soft. Genuine. Real. Beyond the facade of high-class confidence, it seems like a piece of Viktor that feels raw. Reminds Jayce that he’s human, that he makes mistakes, and he is as playful as he is this figmented sexual figure. 

“It’s okay,” he says, a light chuckle following. “It makes it feel… normal. Like we’re just friends testing a theory.”

Viktor arches a brow. “You’re really holding on to that theory thing.” 

“Well, yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “That’s what it’s for. If things go well here, they go well with Mel, too. We’ll feel good after. Win-win situation.”

Viktor rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically. “Ah, yes. Nothing I love more than being of service to you two.”

“I meant for you, too,” Jayce insists, “at least, if I do everything right.”

Viktor hums, shrugging lightly. “It’s not hard. Do you want me to teach you how this works?”

“I mean, how different could it be from—”

“Having sex with a woman?” he asks flatly. “Very different, Jayce.”

He mumbles, almost shyly, “I know that, but, I mean, anal. Everyone does it, yeah?”

Viktor narrows his gaze on Jayce. “Have you done it?”

Jayce shakes his head. He tried once. With Mel, actually, but it didn’t quite work out. It was also three in the morning and they were both horny out of their minds. Already having spent the night with each other after a study session together, they decided to just say eh, fuck it and try. He didn’t fit, neither of them finished, unfortunately, and both ended up taking a shower in the middle of the night and falling back asleep. But that was the first and last time he even got close to doing it.

“Not everyone enjoys it the same, not like you think they do,” Viktor begins, inching closer toward Jayce on the couch. “Women don’t necessarily enjoy anal like men do. They can do it just to try it, to say that they’re kinky. But for most men, it’s their only form of receiving penetration.” 

Jayce swallows down as Viktor sits up from the couch on his knees, shuffling over toward his side, where he goes to sit on his lap. He doesn’t protest, though. He invites Viktor on, his hands meeting the tops of his thighs and dragging them up until they settle on the angle of his hips. He places his hands on Jayce’s chest for stability as he lowers himself onto his lap. Not quite on his crotch, but close enough to where he can certainly feel his blood warm his dick into a boner. 

Viktor’s head tilts slightly as he looks down at him. “I am very different from a woman, Jayce,” he explains slowly, sensually, sending shivers over Jayce’s body from where his fingers toy with the wrinkles of his shirt. “I have different anatomy, and I like things different — probably very different compared to any other woman you’ve been with.”

Jayce leans his head back and settles comfortably into the couch cushion, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “So, tell me what you like.”

Viktor’s hips angle downward, closer to the junction of Jayce’s pelvis. “Are you asking so you can learn, or to just please?”

Jayce’s face falters slightly. “Both?”

“The pleasure comes from learning,” he says. He settles closer on his lap now, no restraint between them. He sits his ass on top of the tent in Jayce’s pants while his hands inch toward the curve of his broad shoulders. “You won’t know what feels good to me, or whoever you’re trying to please, until you learn how to do it the right way.”

“Isn’t that just setting me up for failure, though?” He tilts his head, eyes hung low as he looks up at Viktor with intrigue. “If I don’t know the right steps to get there, then I won’t be able to make it feel good.”

“It’s a good thing we’re scientists,” he says, almost playfully. “We are not unfamiliar with trial and error, no?”

“Right,” Jayce nods, “just plain old trial and error, then.”

Viktor’s hands find their place at his neck. Jayce wonders if he can feel how rapid his heart is beating right now, like he just took a hit off of something toxic, sending him into damn near cardiac arrest. He almost begins praying that he can’t. Viktor’s thumbs graze over his jaw, his fingernails curling at his undercut, nearly sending a wave of goosebumps down his spine.

“You said kissing was off the table, yes?” Viktor utters in a low voice, his face nearing closer to Jayce’s.

Jayce swallows. His eyes skim from Viktor’s down to his lips, then back up. He nods. Viktor dips lower, and Jayce holds on to his breath as he anticipates his next move. 

“What about this?”

Viktor’s tongue meets the skin of his neck, a small kitten lick at first, before flattening over the column of his throat and dragging it sensually. Jayce has to fight the shudder that consumes his body as he cranes his head back. It’s not one of disgust, not at all. He’s incredibly sensitive on his neck. Frankly, he’s sensitive everywhere, but he’ll be damned if he mentions a thing about it. 

So he bites his lip as Viktor licks his neck, while at the same time rocking his hips in a back-and-forth motion. Jayce’s hands follow Viktor’s hips as they roll against him, aiding the sensations in both his neck and groin. Viktor moves his mouth down, over his bobbing adam’s apple. He mouths at the skin, licking and nibbling and sucking. His teeth sink into his neck, harder than before and unexpected, and a startled groan stifles from Jayce’s throat.

“Not too hard,” he utters weakly. There’s a pause between when his words slip out and when Viktor retracts slightly. Jayce’s eyes flutter open, and he glances up at him, capturing the distant look in his eyes. “I don’t want anyone knowing I’m sleeping around.”

“A hot, single, twenty-five-year-old college student abstaining from sex,” Viktor lets out a faux gasp. He rolls his eyes when Jayce gives him a particular look. “No hickeys. Got it.”

Thankfully, it doesn’t stop Viktor’s eagerness. He leans forward with his head over his shoulder, grabbing onto the back of the couch for support to continue rocking against him. Jayce is already fully hard, painfully so. Viktor could probably feel it before through his sweatpants, but now, it’s undeniable, and almost unbearable as he rubs his ass against Jayce’s bulge. 

He can’t stop rolling his hips up in turn, his hands snaking from Viktor’s hips to slide his fingers down past the waistband of his pants, briefs included. Viktor’s neck arches, back bowing, his mouth parting for a breath of air that sounds close to a moan as Jayce’s fingers sink into the skin of his ass. He huffs, and Jayce takes his chance to open his mouth against Viktor’s exposed throat. 

His teeth graze first, dragging over the smooth, thin parts of his neck until he drags over the two moles. He stays there, his tongue darting out and tasting the skin, as if it would have a distinct flavor. And it does. Like skin, and man, and a hint of tea, surprisingly, leafy and light. Maybe cologne? Natural musk? Whatever it is, Jayce wants more. 

“Lube?” Viktor mumbles between the sounds of heavy breathing, the shifting of pants, and the faint squeak of the old couch.

Jayce breaks away from his neck but remains within a hair’s length, throwing a hand over to the side table, his fingers barely reaching. Viktor reaches with him, and together, they stretch and knock over a few items on the table as they pull on the tiny drawer attached below. Viktor can grab the bottle of lube before Jayce can.

He smirks as he holds it up between them. “A bottle of lube in the living room? I can’t tell if you’re over prepared or just plain horny.”

Jayce chuckles through his nose. “The former?”

They adjust, Viktor climbing off of him, but sitting beside him with his legs thrown over Jayce’s. He shuffles so his back is to the couch, head propped up by the armrest, and Jayce follows. He wedges himself so he’s in front of Viktor, and he watches as Viktor kicks off his shoes and pulls on the hem of his sweatpants. Jayce helps, pulling those off, as well as his boxers, watching out for his knee brace.

It’s slow and careful, almost hesitant, as if he hasn’t seen what’s inside his pants before. He still lets out a staggered breath when he sees his bare waist, not because his face is inches from his dick, but because… Viktor looks pretty. 

Is that an acceptable thing to say to about his fuck buddy? 

It’s the truth. It’s the little features he didn’t pay attention to in the bathroom that stand out. His waist, partially cut off from his sweatshirt, is creamy, smooth, clean. It’s littered with beauty marks, though, like constellations mapping their way around his hips and down his legs. There’s a soft patch of curls just above his cock, neatly trimmed with minimal hair on his thighs. 

Jayce’s eyes are trailing down further to his legs, about to skim over his knee brace, when Viktor calls him back to the center. 

“Have you ever done this before?” His voice is fainter this time. Still confident, but gentle.

Jayce meets Viktor’s gaze and shakes his head.

He looks at him closely. “Not even to yourself?”

Heat surfaces on his face as he shakes his head again.

“I’ll let you practice on me,” he says so openly. “Then, if you’re ever inclined, you can try it on yourself. Don’t worry; it won’t make you gay.” He shrugs. “Maybe.”

Viktor hikes his legs up off the couch. He takes his bad leg by the hand, manually raising it and laying it over Jayce’s hip so he can settle in between. He drops his other leg on the couch and plants his foot into the cushion. He slides down just enough so he can angle hips upward, his cock laying strew and semi-hard on his stomach, his hole is exposed. He doesn’t seem phased by his openness, so Jayce tries not to be phased by it, either. 

With shaky hands, despite knowing how to do this, he flips open the bottle and squeezes a hefty dollop of the gooey liquid on his index and middle finger. He lets it run down his fingers before he drops his hand down to Viktor’s entrance. Using one hand to spread him open, he makes contact with the other, the cold of the lube contrasting with the warmth of his body. Viktor’s dick twitches, and there’s a tremble in his thigh as Jayce presses the first finger into his tight warmth.

He sinks his finger in knuckle deep, his eyes locked on the way Viktor’s body swallows him in. His own cock throbs in his pants as he pulls out, only to be welcomed right back into the warm heat. From then on, he moves on autopilot. His hand moves like it has a mind of its own, sliding in and out with ease as little helpless breaths and grunts fall from Viktor’s parted lips. 

“You okay?” Jayce’s eyes flash up to Viktor.

He swallows deeply. “Keep going. I can take more than that.”

And Jayce believes him. So he slips a second finger in, and Viktor just takes that one so fucking well. His tight ring squeezes around his fingers, contracting with each thrust of his hand. Jayce gets so into the feeling that he doesn’t even notice himself speeding up, trying to draw whatever sounds, whatever feeling he can from this. Like it’s Viktor’s approval. Like it’s his pride. He can’t stop himself from rocking his hips forward into the air, getting whatever sensation he can from absolutely nothing.

“Sl-slowly,” Viktor grits, an exhale escaping his lips, “You’re not trying to make me come; you’re just trying to get me ready.”

Jayce doesn’t look up. He licks his lips as he nods. “Okay.”

He picks a relatively slow speed, not too fast to wind him up, but enough to edge him, enough to spread him open, enough to keep him on the precipice of pleasure. He keeps thrusting, hand moving instinctively, and making it all the easier to slip in a third finger. Jayce’s mouth hangs open when he does, and he watches as Viktor’s hole engulfs his three fingers down to the knuckles. He only imagines what it would look like to see cock replace his hand. How it would feel to be squeezed like that, to fuck Viktor. 

“Just like that. Fuck, your hands,” Viktor grunts.

He starts rolling his hips to meet Jayce’s knuckles. They clash at the same time over and over again, like a crashing wave — his hand and Viktor’s hips, meeting in a grand collision of pleasure. It draws a sharp moan out of Viktor, causing Jayce’s breath to stutter.

He looks up to Viktor for a brief moment. “Does it hurt?”

“No, they’re just,” he arches his neck, “big. Gods, Jayce. You’re doing so good.”

His cock throbbed at the words, at the hoarseness in Viktor’s voice. He’s still thrusting his hips into nothingness, aching to be in something, in Viktor. “I think I wanna— fuck. Can I put it inside?” he heaves, breathlessly, “please?”

No hesitation. “Yes – fuck – just do it.”

Jayce pulls his hand out and immediately starts undoing his pants. It doesn’t take long for him to kick them to the floor and stake his knee into the couch cushion, gently pulling Viktor’s leg back over his thigh. He glances up to Viktor for a quick confirmation as he drags a dollop of lube over his cock (maybe too much, but better safe than sorry) before moving forward. He receives an eager nod, and when he hikes his good leg closer to his chest, making more room for him between his legs, Jayce continues.

It’s a mixture of pleasure and pain for the both of them as he pushes his aching cock into his ringed muscle, a tight fit. Viktor squeezes him – instinctively or not, Jayce doesn’t know – as he sinks in until he can’t anymore. Until he’s aching to thrust forward and feel the same tight sensation all over again. 

Viktor gasps, mouth dropping as a strangled gasp fights to become audible. His eyes widen in surprise? Pain? Pleasure? Jayce isn’t sure, but Viktor isn’t stopping him, so he pulls back and follows the same motion over and over again until he’s bottomed out all the way.

And holy fuck. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. It’s tight, and suffocating, and all around addictive. So much so that it sends him reeling, his hips back and throwing them forward in the same sharp motion, sending more of those shattered gasps from Viktor’s mouth. There is absolutely no resistance from Viktor in letting Jayce pound into him again, and again, and again.

Viktor takes his hands to Jayce’s waist, sliding over the ridges of his torso until he’s covering the two dimples at the small of his back. He pushes him in at the rhythm of his hips, goading him into plummeting inside of his tight hole. Viktor’s hands on him alone are enough to keep him going.

Jayce drops down so his forearm is parallel to the armrest of the couch, and he’s hovering over him, Viktor’s legs bending in turn. His head drops down to the crook of his shoulders where he breathes so deeply, so loudly, so wantonly. He’s unashamed of the grunts coming from his throat and into Viktor’s ear, noises he didn’t think could be conjured. Any other time, he’d be mindful of the sounds he’s making or even how tightly his hand had wound itself around Viktor’s hips, but Viktor obliges. 

Hell, he welcomes it — legs hiking further up his sides to bring Jayce even closer, his hands clasped to his back, fingers tugging on his shirt as if he’s going to rip it right off of him. Viktor, too, is at a loss for words, moans falling from his mouth with each rock of Jayce’s hips, but much quieter, much more contained. Although he’s not as expressive as Jayce is, the tiny hip thrusts up to meet him halfway is an indicator enough of his neediness.

This foreign feeling becomes all too overwhelming, far too fast. Jayce gut tightens so violently he thinks it’s a cramp, and then his hips are stalling with his cock sheathed to a hilt, and every muscle in his body is clenching, and his breath is shuddering and—

Jayce comes. He comes hard, and loud, and recklessly.

Fuck.

Jayce remains frozen in place. Just like that, like it was nothing. A few measly strokes in and he came inside of Viktor like he was in a fucking race and he was dying to win. Shame floods his body as he just breathes against Viktor’s neck, chest to chest. He doesn’t dare move first. He just stays buried, feeling himself deflate inside, knowing that it’s a matter of seconds before Viktor registers what’s happening. 

Viktor’s breaths out from the weight on his chest. His voice comes out weak, short. “Wh-what’s wrong?” There it is.

Jayce uses the couch’s support to push himself off his forearm and onto Viktor. His hips remain glued to Viktor, keeping himself contained inside. He catches only a glimpse of what it looks like down there and shit, it’s a mess. There is no chance of his playing this off. 

Viktor pushes himself onto his elbows and looks up at him, blissful confusion cast across his face. Jayce keeps his head dropped low, squeezing his eyes shut when Viktor tilts his head at him. He can’t bear seeing the disappointment surface on his face. Not after they had been cockblocked once and in poor company another time. 

“I came,” he confesses, so pitifully. Embarrassment flushes his face, and neck, and back, and hell, his entire body in a wave of heat. Throw him in a fucking pit and leave him there. Anything would be better than this. 

“Oh.” It’s not an oh of disappointment, or frustration, but of… concern? Intrigue? “It’s all right,” he says, softly, sincerely. He almost doesn’t believe him until he says it again, “It’s okay, Jayce. Really. It’s your first time. It can be overwhelming.”

“I…” He looks up, catching Viktor’s eyes. Nope, he can’t stand to face him. He closes his eyes again and sighs. “Yeah… It was nice for the twenty seconds it lasted.”

“It doesn’t have to end right now, you know,” Viktor says quietly, and Jayce’s gut curls. He opens his eyes again, finding that once gentle smile now morphing into that of a smirk. “I can already feel you getting hard again.” 

It’s true. He only has his stamina to blame. Jayce sucks in a deep breath as he pulls back, peering down between them. White stickiness coats his cock and the surrounding areas on both him and Viktor. His mouth parts with a shuddered breath, only for it to snap shut, biting his lip. He slowly eases forward, joining their hips together again, but that doesn’t stop Viktor from glancing down below. He knows that Viktor can see the mess from the way his eyes light up. 

“Hah, you surely filled me up,” a breathless chuckle slips from his lips, curling deeper into a smirk. “It’s almost as if it’s a pussy, hm? Like you closed your eyes to pretend you were inside one.”

Jayce clenches his jaw, trying to maintain his composure. Because not once did he think he was inside one. No, he knew exactly what he was inside of, and he knew who, too. There was a distinct difference between the two. That’s what made him come so fast, he realizes. And that’s what worries him.

Viktor takes his heel to Jayce’s back, using it to make sure that whatever of Jayce’s cock is left outside of him is now fully lodged inside. His eyes glint upward, and his voice drops low. 

“But I’m no woman, Jayce,” his accent thick and sharp with his words, “so this time, don’t fuck me like one.”

Now, Jayce is known to be well-mannered, managing to hold on to his inhibitions quite well. But Viktor’s words alone are all it takes for him to release them. He’s not going to sit around and act like he doesn’t know how this works, let alone let Viktor make him think so. So he’ll show him. 

Jayce takes both hands, large and powerful, to Viktor’s hips and forces them up. A sound of surprise comes from Viktor, quiet and quick, but even Jayce knows that he saw this coming. He wanted this. Hell, he asked for this with how arrogant he had been with his words. The smirk on his lips is proof enough. Pulling out until only the head remains, Jayce uses his grip around his waist to pull Viktor down on his cock, at the same time thrusting forward. 

A gasp breaks from Viktor’s chest, sounding close to whine, “Shit, Jayce, fuck—” 

Jayce doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even stagger for a second as he hammers himself into Viktor with an urgency he didn’t think he had in him. Their hips snap in a sharp motion, the collision sounding louder in the room than their moans, Viktor’s louder than Jayce’s. Each thrust of his was accompanied by a sharp grunt, followed by something that sounds like a pitchy groan.

“This how you like it, Viktor?” Jayce pants as his body towers above him. He finds Viktor’s heavy-hooded eyes watching them closely as if trying to read his thoughts. “Fast and rough?”

Viktor’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Jayce almost thinks he’s going too far, too hard on himself, that maybe he should ease off. But then his brows thread together at the center of his forehead, his lips curl into almost a delirious smile, and his expression dissolves in pure sexual ecstasy, and Jayce takes it all back. 

He scoffs, void of anything demeaning. “What — can’t use your words now?” He leans forward, nearly bringing Viktor’s knees to his chest in the process. “Cat got your tongue?”

Viktor huffs a laugh in response, almost condescending. “You sure— hah,” his words come out in quick whines from his throat between thrusts, “know how to make love.”

Jayce gives Viktor one last smug grin before leaning his weight off of him. Instead of giving in, he grasps his waist again, more securely, and maneuvers them backwards, so that he’s lazily sitting back on the couch, bringing Viktor to be on top. Viktor, though surprised, moves with him, pliably, managing to keep them conjoined through the transition. He settles back to where he was before they began, sitting on Jayce’s lap with his knees on either side of him.

Viktor’s brows furrow, and his voice comes out curt, “What are you doing?”

Jayce’s eyes flash up to him. “You think you can fuck yourself better?”

Viktor shoots him a cunning smirk — he doesn’t think, he knows. But Jayce is just as stubborn in proving himself as he is. Jayce’s hands find their way back to his hips, moving Viktor back on top of him more comfortably. He settles further onto the couch, anchoring his feet down after kicking away the pile of pants on the floor. 

He tips his chin up, his lips curving. “Go on, Vik. Show me how to do it.”

Begrudgingly, with those low-hung eyes locked on Jayce, Viktor throws a hand back to his propped knee, the other finding stability hooked around his neck. Without hesitation, his hips are swiftly rising and falling with the same rhythm that Jayce once held. Except Viktor moves methodically. He moves with the grace that Jayce had abandoned, in a pace that both draws out the sensation and intensifies it beyond what he had thought possible. 

It doesn’t take much for both of them, admittedly, to grow sensitive to the raw feeling. Of course for Jayce, but undoubtedly for Viktor, too, as he uses Jayce’s cock to draw on his own pleasure with each bounce of his hips. He keeps his eyes on Jayce the entire time as he does so, never wavering even for a second. Jayce watches, and a coy smile grows on his lips as he refuses to break eye contact.

Viktor takes his hand from around his neck to cup his jaw. His thumb, grazing over his chin, toys with Jayce’s bottom lip, and surprisingly enough, Jayce let him continue. When Viktor’s thumb parts his lips and slips between his teeth, Jayce even closes his mouth around it. 

He hums in delight, watching with intrigue as he slips his thumb further onto his tongue. “Since you’re, you know, not using your mouth right now.”

His eyes lighten as Jayce not only clasps his lips around it, but laps his tongue around it and sucks. The sounds coming up from Jayce’s throat become muffled, each moan and stifled grunt vibrating around Viktor’s thumb. He doesn’t stop, even as Viktor replaces it with his two forefingers and Jayce is laving at those until they’re heavily coated with his saliva, and Viktor smiles in satisfaction. 

All while he watches Viktor’s composure break down with each little jerk he makes to meet his mid-thrust. Viktor’s face contorts with a pleasure Jayce hadn’t seen in him before, even when he was on his knees in that bathroom, sucking him off. The helpless, fucked out expression overcoming his face grows more and more desperate the longer he rides him without reserve. 

This is all he needs, Jayce thinks to himself. All Viktor needs is to be fucked, and that menacing attitude of his dissappears. 

Jayce has no room to talk, though. His stamina is breaking, his orgasm steadily approaching. Not quite there yet, but nearing too soon. He’ll be damned if he lets himself come again before Viktor does. With one hand still aiding Viktor as he rides him, the other moves to shove his shirt up and out of the way, his stomach lying bare. He takes his abandoned cock in hand, gripping in firmly and slowly jerks him off. Viktor arches his back when he does, a sharp whine falling from his lips as his hips begin to stutter.

Things become overwhelming fast. Very fast. Jayce can barely manage what he’s doing. Between trying not to come inside of Viktor again while also trying to help him come and not to choke with Viktor’s fingers in his mouth, he kind of just… loses it. His own thrusts become sloppy and hurried, his hand is moving too quickly, and the moment he feels the coil in his belly snap, he’s coming again before he has the chance to pull out. 

He clenches and at the same time, bites down to stifle the moans coming from his mouth. Viktor curses, something thick and foreign and even louder than he is, and rips his hand from Jayce’s mouth, rightfully so. But neither of them address it as they both reach their peaks, unable to think of anything else. It’s long-awaited for Viktor, and Jayce weakly finishes through for him, his hand trembling as it becomes coated in his come. 

Orgasms having passed, Viktor’s body weakly slumps, using Jayce’s thighs for support. They both manage to catch their breath for a moment before Viktor pulls himself off of Jayce. It’s quiet as they move to clean each other off. Jayce reaches for the tissue box left on the coffee table (yes, a little overprepared) and passes a few tissues to Viktor, although he’s going to need a lot more than that.

Once Viktor is clean and fully dressed again, he’s tossing away the soiled tissues in the trashcan next to the side table — filled with pencil shavings, paper scraps and shit, a condom Jayce forgot to toss out. He catches Viktor staring at it for a moment longer than normal before he discards his trash. Neither chose to say anything. And when Viktor finally sits back on the couch, Jayce reaches for Viktor’s hand, gripping his wrist. 

Jayce’s finger runs over the red dash marks embedded in his knuckles. “Your hand,” he murmurs under his breath, “I’m sorry.”

Viktor doesn’t protest; he just kind of stares at him as he pulls his hand closer, before pursing his lips and pecking gentle kisses to the throbbing redness. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until—

“What happened to no kissing?” 

Jayce blinks. Is this technically kissing? Shouldn’t he know since he made the rule?

His eyes flutter up, taking in the look on Viktor’s face. He always has an array of emotions that he portrays in his own special way that Jayce has to decipher. It both drives him crazy and intrigues him to no end. Someday, he’ll learn it. Hopefully.

He pulls Viktor’s hand back slightly. “I bit you,” the words brush over his fingers, “hard.”

“Yeah,” he says, pulling his hand back from Jayce’s grasp entirely. “That is what will happen if you stick your hands in places that have teeth.”

“Does it hurt?” 

Viktor scoffs, laced with humor. “What, are we children?”

“Does it hurt, Viktor?” he asks, much softer this time.

Viktor stops. And he stares at Jayce for an extra long time before finally saying, “No.”

As satisfied as he can be with that answer, Jayce nods, sitting back on the couch again. Viktor does the same, not saying much after either, as they both fall into an awkward silence. Well, Viktor not so much, but definitely awkward for Jayce. He tries to think of anything he can ask him in the time that they have. He should have thought of something, seeing as he was the one who came up with it, but now that he’s here… what? 

How was your day? What was this like for you? Did you enjoy it? (Does he even want to know the genuine answer to that?) What interests do you have in this? What do you do in your free time? What are you like when you’re not having sex? Who exactly are you, apart from who you want to be?

Great conversation starters. And you know what Jayce chooses to say instead?

“Upgrades,” Jayce chuckles awkwardly.

Viktor turns to look at him, exhaustion evident on his face. “Hm?”

He meets his eyes with a humorous glint. “We’re not in a bathroom this time; we’re on a couch. I’d say it’s one step closer to a bed.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little intimate? The bed?” Viktor teases.

They share a half-assed laugh, and the conversation dies after that, never to be revived. And there’s no chance of saving it now, as Viktor is standing up from the couch, shoving his feet into his shoes and reaching for his cane that had somehow toppled over in the middle of sex.

“It’s been nine and a half minutes.”

Jayce sits up, stretching his neck side to side as he watches Viktor move about with a sort of urgency. “Has it really? I hadn’t even noticed.” 

He had noticed. He had just hoped that maybe Viktor would have forgotten, so he could have more time to think about what to say to him to start an actual conversation.

Viktor shrugs. “Roughly. I had to improvise since your wall clock doesn’t have a seconds counter. You were too busy dozing off to count seconds, anyway.”

“I wasn’t dozing off.”

Viktor starts walking around the couch, B-lining toward the door. And kind of fast. “First time having gay sex, and I put you to sleep. That is certainly a first.”

Jayce is up on his feet just as fast, though, careful in trying not to bump into the coffee table as he climbs over his pants around the couch. He speed-shuffles to meet Viktor at the door at the same time, despite only wearing his boxers.

“One, I think that was my doing. And two, I’m not tired,” he protests, almost petulantly, “I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I just still can’t believe you timed the nine minutes.”

Hand itching for the doorknob, Viktor turns and offers him a measly shrug. “We had a deal. And I’m not a cuddler.”

Jayce crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe opposite Viktor. “Is the thought of cuddling really that unappealing?”

“When neither of us has showered, yes,” he states flatly. “Plus, I kind of have your come in my ass, so.”

Jayce is so preoccupied with his former statement that he doesn’t even think to react to the latter. He has a feeling it doesn’t really have to do with the showering part. He said it himself — he’s had sex in worse locations than a bathroom. There’s something more to it, something deeper. But too deep for fuck buddies to hash out. He supposes he will just have to find out why Viktor’s so opposed to the physical interaction at a later date. 

“I promise I won’t be so awkward next time,” he says softly, almost hopefully. He reaches for the door, opens it, and exposes them to the summer night air. 

“It’s okay. It’s kind of cute,” the words must have tumbled out of Viktor’s mouth faster than he anticipated, because his eyes widen for a moment before he clears his throat. “But eh, yes, thank you for a great fuck,” his voice lowers as he ducks his head, “goodnight, Jayce.”

Jayce smiles softly, tiredly. “Goodnight, Viktor,” he murmurs, and watches him take his leave. He doesn’t close the door until Viktor disappears down the staircase. 

And Jayce is asleep by nine PM that night. 

Chapter Text

Jayce is kind of a freak. 

Well, by his own definition, he thinks he’s a freak. For whatever reason he’s too embarrassed to admit, it’s just simply how he feels. Maybe it’s the best way for him to describe the way it feels for him to be so out of touch with himself. 

Caitlyn said that it happens to people in their twenties often. A quarter-life crisis of some sort. She also said this on her twenty-first birthday, wasted out of her mind after sneaking off with her best friend to her favorite childhood hiding spot, tucked away in the garden behind the pool at her parents’ brilliant mansion in Piltover while her own birthday party roared on inside. 

Her mascara ran down her face as she told him how she felt out of touch with herself, too. Said she couldn’t recognize herself in the mirror anymore. Questioned when she became a mirage of the girl she once adored, when she lost sight of everything she wanted. And told him that every time she tried to find it, find herself, her mother came and erased all that she had found. And guilt, ruthless guilt, began to eat her alive for even wanting anything in the first place. 

What an exhausting way to exist — to be constantly living in shame for having such a universal emotion.

Six months later, her quarter-life crisis had ended when she started dating Violet Warwick, a girl she met at the gym at Piltover State University.

Whatever it is — quarter life crisis or just downright freakish behavior — it’s stuck with him. Everything feels unnatural, and everything out of tune, and nothing feels normal. But then again, he’s always felt this way. Not just at twenty-five. 

Why is that? And why is it he that's riddled with this emotional disconnect? Was it something he had said or done unknowingly, causing a shift in the course of his timeline that left him confused as of late?  

Anyways, besides the point. 

Jayce has just gotten out of the shower after the gym, his body still steaming, water droplets dripping from his hair as he combs it back away from his forehead. He walks back into his bedroom from the bathroom with his towel snug to his hips, heading to his closet. Normally, around his little studio apartment, he wore as little as just his boxers, a t-shirt if he felt like being modest. Since he plans on probably sitting at his workbench and trying to tinker with his latest robotics project for a little before bed, he opts for a basic tee and lounge shorts.

He’s particularly horny tonight, however, his boner from under his towel serving as a painful announcement. Being that he had plans to work on his project and only work on his project, he tried to ignore it. But as he slips his shirt over his head and drops the towel, he can’t hide the fact that it just will not go away. And it probably won’t unless he does something about it, like masturbate and move on.

So he does exactly that. Well, he starts doing that. Legs parted slightly as he jerked himself off, back propped against the pillows at the headboard, shirt hiked up over his chest as he took in quick, shallow breaths. And it had been going really well, until he started thinking about the last time he and Viktor had sex. 

The thing is, Jayce had already been thinking about it. It’s what’s been edging him on, parting his legs ever further and rolling his hips up into his hand. More specifically, he remembers what Viktor said the last time they hooked up: “Then, if you’re ever inclined, you can try it on yourself,” followed by, “don’t worry; it won’t make you gay. Maybe. ”

He’s thinking about fingering himself. Which, in itself, isn’t even the freakiest part for him. 

Jayce stops. He goes to sit up slightly, hand still wrapped around his cock. He looks to the nightstand and reaches over to the drawer, pulling it out and rummaging around in it until he pulls out the bottle of lube he has stashed inside. Before he does anything, he sets it on top of the nightstand. And stares at it. For a really, really long time.

It’s not that he thinks it will turn him gay. He knows that’s not how it works. It’s… the thought of what it means for him. If he does this, will it make him want more? Will he want Viktor to do it for him? Will he want to bottom with Viktor the next time they hook up? They’re not dumb questions to ask, especially when he’s already questioning anything and everything that has to do with this whole… experimenting slash theory testing situation. 

But what does he know? Just in these last few weeks of going back and forth from having sex with Viktor and Mel and Viktor again, he’s seen things in himself that he’s never seen before. Done things he would have never thought he would do previously. He’s a changed man, he’d say. 

It’s not that he didn’t think of doing some things before. He’s never fully admitted to it himself, the thoughts he’s had about having sex with a man, and being submissive. But thinking about it is different than acting on it. And being straight and having sex with a gay man is different than being gay and having sex with a gay man… right?

If he sits here too long thinking about it, asking himself morally challenging questions about sexuality and identity, he’s going to psyche himself out of it, and there, boner ruined. So, Jayce does what he thinks he does best — says fuck it and vows to deal with the consequences later, whatever may come of it. 

Jayce takes the bottle in hand, shaking it before dropping a hefty amount of lube on his hand, and pushes himself back onto the bed. He lies on his side, hiking a knee up to give himself more access. He isn’t sure what position would be best to avoid his hand cramping or to ensure the whole appeal of the entire experience, and he doesn’t dare look it up on the internet in fear of being flashed with more than what he’s willing to see right now, so he figures this will have to do. 

He moves his hand down, brushing it over his hole and shuddering as the cold lubricant touches the part of him that’s never been touched before. He swallows a breath, continues to rub the lube over himself until he’s sure no part of it is uncovered, and he’s practically shivering. He squeezes his eyes shut as he presses the pad of his finger inside, and gasps at the pressure building between his legs and in his gut. 

Then, when his shakiness subsides and the ungodly levels of horniness persist, he presses his middle finger in to the first knuckles. And fuck, this is nothing like he’s felt before. He only uses that finger for now, because Viktor’s right, his hands, specifically his fingers, are bigger than average. It also just takes longer for him to get used to it because he’s never done this before and— fuck, he’s never done this before. Why hasn’t he done this before?

At this point, with just one finger, he’s whining and writhing from his own touch. He’s gone deeper this time, almost to his last knuckle, and sinking further. He groans each time he pulls it all the way out, just like he would when he did the same to Viktor, and groans ever louder when he slips it all the way back in, so deep that he brushes against his walls and everything becomes heightened tenfold.

He takes his other hand to his unattended cock, gently wrapping a few fingers around that and stroking slowly, slower than the speed of his other hand. He can’t help the tightening in his stomach or the locking of his jaw when he does. It’s not because he hates it, but because it amplifies everything he had felt before, beyond what he thought possible. 

He thinks about how he did the same thing to Viktor just last week and tries to mimic the motion. He can only marvel at how well Viktor took him then, seeing as Jayce himself is squirming around his middle finger, barely even two knuckles deep. Then, Jayce is pressing his ring finger to his rim and pushing inside. His fingers meet and bottom out to his knuckle. He feels so full, and it’s only two fingers. Holy, it’s only two fingers.

Now he’s thinking about Viktor. About how this would all be if he were the one doing this to him right now. Those long, delicate fingers plunging so deep inside of him that he nearly sees stars. The little comments he would make about Jayce pathetically arching his hips upward, further into his hand like he is now, because Jayce knows he would. Or the way Jayce’s voice is rising higher pitch than normal with each thrust of Viktor’s hand, and how he’s taking even just these two finger so fucking well.

Or how he’s taking Viktor’s cock so well. Fuck, this is… this is certainly something.

First off, would Jayce actually let him do it? Let Viktor fuck him? Would Jayce actually be able to take him, the sheer size of Viktor? He can barely even take his own fingers, whining and squirming around him like so, but if he wanted to… would he let Viktor top him? Is Viktor even into topping? 

Just the thought is making Jayce’s head spin in revolutions too fast to count. All he can think about is how unbelievably horny he is right now. And this isn’t even the part that makes him feel like he’s a freak, by the way. It gets worse.

He starts to thrust his fingers in further, so much deeper than before, that he has to turn his face into his pillow to capture the sounds breaking free from his mouth. It’s almost unbearable, but he can’t seem to stop. It’s on the precipice of a burning stretch and a bliss he’s never felt before. He moans louder, more pitchy than he even thought possible from himself. 

Shameful heat finds its way to his skin. His body shakes, quivering almost uncontrollably as he feels himself tighten around his fingers so unbelievably tight that it hurts. His hand gripped around his cock stutters, and he’s unable to even finish as he has to rip his hand from inside of himself to stop this unfamiliar, but pleasurable tightness in his gut from bursting. 

He stops, the air trapped in his chest coming out as a deep breath as he rolls to his back and stares up at the ceiling. His body tries to recalibrate itself from whatever he’s just done, because… what did he just do? What the fuck was that? He’s never felt like that before, and well… he kind of likes it. Kind of is actually an understatement. 

This isn’t going to be enough. Not nearly enough for him to finish and be sated.

So that’s how he ended up with his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, swiping through his contacts in search of Viktor’s name. 

Jayce has officially changed his contact to just Viktor and even managed to find a contact photo for him sometime last week. He had found his Instagram at first, but there was nothing on there to work with. He had the default profile photo uploaded, with 0 posts, 374 followers, and only 144 following. Their only mutual being Mel and Sky Young, another peer whom he had also met at Mel’s elaborate social mixers. He followed him on there, but still hasn’t received a follow-back.

Jayce checked Viktor’s tagged photos, but failed to find one out of the seven photos he was in where he was facing the camera, or looking even remotely pleased. Then, he tried Mel’s account, scoured her collection of photo dumps and collages of friends, family, and her rigorous activist posts to find that in the same post of him and Mel at their undergrad graduation, there was another one of Mel, Sky, and Viktor all together. They were two photos apart this entire time.

Each of them is decked in their red and gold caps and gowns, hugging close to each other’s sides — Sky on one end, Mel in the middle, and Viktor next to her. The sun is shining brightly in their way, but their smiles shine even brighter. It’s one of the few photos where he’s seen Viktor smile, a genuine, pure-hearted smile. Not that devious little smirk he does when he’s being a tease, or the satisfied curl of his mouth when he gets what he wants. But something entirely different. 

All three of them look so well acquainted, too, like they had known each other longer than the four years they had together in university, despite Viktor only living in Piltover since he was nineteen. Time doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to affection. It surprises him that, though never having crossed paths, they may as well have been walking side by side to each other the last couple of years of their lives. It also partially bothers him knowing that someone was on the level of acquaintance with Viktor that he wanted to be. And yet, Jayce can barely hold a conversation with the guy when they’re not having sex. 

Again, besides the point.

With shaky hands, his thumb hovers over Viktor’s contact for split second before he finally just utters a fuck it and presses on the call button. He shoves it between his ear and shoulder as he listens to the dial tone ring three times before Viktor answers. 

“Jayce,” he says softly. Partially relieved, partially surprised.

“Viktor.” Jayce has to swallow his breath as it staggers in his throat, sounding much too inconspicuous. He looks down at himself, cock gripped in hand, twitching at the mere thought of the person on the other end of the phone. His entire body heats like a furnace. “Hey.”

Viktor responds almost hesitantly, “Uh, hey.” He clears his throat and tests, “How are you?”

“I’m…” Impossibly horny. “Good. Just…” Suffering with the visceral urge to fuck you, or probably get fucked by you, who knows. Not too sure myself. “You know, just at home.”

“Fun.” It’s filled with pure sarcasm. Classic Viktor. “I am also at home. Trying to draft out this, uh, this thesis.”

And of course while Viktor is doing very productive things with his time right now, Jayce is making split decisions with his dick. “Ah, fun. Yeah, very fun. So would you say you’re busy, or… ?”

Viktor hums nonchalantly, “Not necessarily. I have been working on this for quite some time now. Just haven’t been able to piece together or make sense of my studies.”

“Talk to me about it.”

What on earth is he talking about? Of course he wants to hear about it, but maybe not when he’s got his dick in his hand!

“You called to hear about my work?” Viktor’s voice is soft, hopeful. Sweet. As if Jayce’s question was a surprise to him.

It’s true that he does want to hear about his work. Despite having his dick in his hands, he’s interested in what Viktor has to say. He’s very interested. He’s also just very horny. But he doesn’t want to miss out on this opportunity to hear about it, so he’ll take any chance he can get.

“I want to know what you’re working on,” Jayce says honestly, truthfully. Wholeheartedly. And he hopes Viktor believes him.

“Okay, well…” He clears his throat, “I, uh, did this experimental design back in undergrad. It was a series of 3-D printed models of prosthetic prototypes that were engineered to be more adaptive in both agility and mobility. As for my thesis, I have to…”

The entire time Viktor is talking about his studies, Jayce is fully intrigued. He listens to every single word that falls from Viktor’s mouth, soaks in every bit of information from him as if Viktor is a teacher, Jayce his pupil. Even being partially distracted, he still follows him closely, keeping an interest in his thesis questions and hypotheticals. 

And he even feels himself growing harder and harder in his hand, more than he was before. He didn’t think it was possible, but it is. He is living proof.

This is the part he regrets the most. This is going down in the list of top ten most embarrassing moments of his life, and top five darkest places his horniness has taken him (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but in the heat of his embarrassment, he has the right to be). He starts stroking himself, slow enough so that the sound of the movement goes unnoticed, but just enough to make his breath hitch, and his toes to curl, knees locking. 

But at this point, it is noticeable. At this point, there’s no hiding it. And at this point, he is beyond help.

“Jayce,” Viktor calls out abruptly, stopping to see if he was still listening. He is. He is just also looking down at his cock and imagining Viktor’s mouth was around it right now.

“Hm,” he nods, although Viktor can’t see, “yeah?”

Viktor speaks low and very slowly, “Are you masturbating right now?”

It’s as if he had just been dumped into a bucket of cold water. 

It’s confirmed. Jayce is a grade-A freak.

“No.” A helpless sound, an incriminating one, falls from his lips. “ Yes .”

“Oh.”

Heat now simmers on every surface of Jayce’s body. He didn’t mean for it to get to this, for him to get caught, for him to even call Viktor in the first place. But he just couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him! 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I, uhm, I tried doing what you said. You know, trying it myself…”

He hums, unamused, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Viktor, Jayce has noticed, is very particular about details.

“Fingering myself,” it feels like the words are being choked out of him right now. He sharply huffs before he continues, “It felt really awkward at first, but then it surprisingly felt really fucking good and—”

“I told you it would.”

“—and then it got really overwhelming that I stopped, but I was already horny, and really fucking hard that I didn’t want to stop. So I called you to see if maybe you could, fuck,” he catches his breath, “if you could come over, but you seemed like you were busy, and then I wanted to hear about your thesis since it seems you rarely talk about your personal life besides sex, which is fine, but then I kind of just got ahead of myself and—”

“You were edging yourself to me talking about my thesis?”

Yeah. Certified fucking freak.

“No. Yes. Fuck,” Jayce groans, loud and exaggerated. He takes his hand away and slaps his forehead so loud he’s sure Viktor can hear it through the phone. He drags his hand over his face and groans into his palm. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing, Jayce—”

He sighs heavily into the speaker. “Like fucking hell, Viktor. What am I doing?”

“I don’t know,” he says once. He says it again, softer this time, “I don’t know, but… I can tell you what you can do right now. Would that help ease your mind?”

Jayce squeezes his eyes shut, as if the static behind his eyelids could give him comfort from his embarrassment. “Mhm. Okay, yeah. Yeah. What is it?”

Frankly, he doesn’t know what to expect next. Viktor has been one to say out-of-pocket things, but maybe, just this once, he might be willing to spare Jayce some philosophical, life-changing, minimally worded sentence that would make him snap back to reality and encourage him to make better decisions with his time. 

“You can either finish in your hand by your lonesome right now to the sound of my voice. Or you can wait twenty minutes for me to get over there, and you can finish somewhere else,” he practically sings the offer in Jayce’s ear like a calling from a siren.

His eyes fly open. He pauses. “Okay.” 

Jayce doesn’t say anything else. Viktor doesn’t either. There’s an awkward silence that passes over the phone for a few solid moments.

“Well?”

“Oh, I get to choose?” Jayce heaves out a heavy breath. “Fuck, the second. The second option, please.” The last part comes out close to a whine. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic!

“Okay, but on one condition,” Viktor adds. “I choose when and where you come.”

Jayce swallows. He’s really done it for himself now, hasn’t he? He covers his face again, shame still painting it in the color red. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs.

“Take it or leave it, Talis.”

“Just come over already. Please .”

“So demanding,” Viktor chides, a low, reverberating chuckle buzzing through the phone. The sound alone sends shivers down Jayce’s spine. “I will be there in twenty. And don’t come yet. I’ll know if you do.”

Viktor hangs up the phone without another word. And that was it.

Jayce slumps into his bed, phone and dick both fall from his dropped hands. This is what he gets. This is the price he will pay for being a freak.

Jayce had cleaned himself up (you know, lube and all ) and tidied up his box of an apartment enough before Viktor came up and knocked. He had gotten dressed too, more than he already was, throwing on a pair of gym shorts and unwrinkling his shirt as he shuffled to the door. Before he opens the door, he manages to fix his somewhat damp hair, check his appearance, and do whatever else he can to ensure he looks as put together as he can.

That won’t last, and he knows that.

He swings the door open, and there Viktor stands, looking as casual as ever. Sweatshirt, sweats, and some random pair of slippers. Hair down, damp, and wavy. He dressed in the type of comfortable that someone would be dressed in when going to the corner store to grab a drink or two and go back home. A quick trip, a pit stop, a…

Damn. Is Jayce technically Viktor’s booty call? Or since he called him, would Viktor be Jayce’s?

Jayce steps back, and Viktor enters, no need for formalities or overly extended greetings. His cane thumps against the hardwood floor with emphasis as he finds the back of the couch just a few paces away. He uses it for support as he breathes out almost tiredly. His eyes look heavy, and his body moves in a particular slowness that could only match one of exhaustion. 

Jayce notices and is right behind him. He lays a hand on Viktor’s back, just between his shoulder blades, and leans forward, trying to get a read of his face. 

“I’m sorry about the stairs,” he says quickly, as if it was he who had picked having the second-story unit, or decided to put stairs instead of an elevator. “Are you okay?”

“S’fine. M’fine,” Viktor utters, quick and sharp. His hand shoots down to his braced leg, rubbing it up and down. 

“Can I get you water? Advil?” Jayce tilts his head inward, trying to get the answer off his face. 

Viktor nods. No words, no sounds. Jayce is on the move again, quick, speedy steps toward the kitchen, immediately going for the cabinet holding his limited supply of medicine. He pushes through random pill bottles and whatever else he’s shoved into his medicine cabinet — allergy relief, Pepto Bismol, Tums, and— there. Advil. He grabs that bottle, shaking it to check if it still has something in there. When he hears the rattle, he slides it on the counter across from him toward Viktor.  

Then he’s sorting through his assortment of drying mugs left near the sink. He chooses a different mug than he did last time, a black and white mug with the periodic table pasted over it, one he thinks (hopes) Viktor would like. He swings open the fridge, shoving the mug toward the Brita filter spigot, and when it’s nearly filled to the brim, he swings the fridge door shut again to find Viktor not at the couch, but instead on the other side of the door. He nearly drops the mug at Viktor’s sudden appearance, but manages to hand it to him before he does. 

Viktor already has two Advils popped in his mouth, and he clasps the mug to his lips, drinking it slowly, but in big gulps. Jayce watches him drink it, too, satisfied as he watches the way his eyes flutter with each sip, the way his lips curl around the mug, the way his adam’s apple bobs each time he swallows, and—

No fucking way. You’ve got to be kidding. 

Jayce presses his front to the countertop in hopes of hiding the boner forming in his fucking pants. He clears his throat, shaking away whatever impure, dirty, freakish thought that threatens to cross his mind at the mere sight of Viktor, this innocent man just trying to drink his water in peace. Jayce should be serving some sort of time for this. This is criminal level horniness.

“You know,” he crosses his arms, trying to compose himself as proper as ever, “we don’t always have to come here. I am more than willing to go to yours next time.”

Viktor pulls the mug away, now halfway full, lips moist and pink. He raises it to glance at the design. He smiles, a small thing, letting out a light chuckle. Jayce also smiles at his approval. 

He shakes his head softly as he sets the mug down on the counter. “No. No, this is just fine. A couple of stairs won’t kill me. Besides, my place is small.”

Jayce’s eyebrows rise. “Smaller than this?”

Viktor nods with the same look on his face. “Smaller than this. And I have a twin-sized bed. And it’s in the student accommodations. I know for a fact that you don’t want to be seen having gay sex there.”

Jayce doesn’t argue with that. Not because of the last statement, he couldn’t really care any less for that, just because he’s not worried about it as much anymore. But now he’s just trying to imagine what Viktor’s room is like. Do they share the same taste in novels left on the nightstand? Similar, if not identical, posters on the wall or video games stacked by his TV? Maybe they use the same cheesy STEM mugs that his friends have gifted over the years for different occasions? 

His imagination can only take him so far. It’s cut short when Viktor takes one last sip of the water, setting it back down on the counter. Jayce takes the mug, pretending to make an effort to clean it by sliding it to the sink before gesturing out of the kitchen. 

Breaking into the corner he calls his bedroom, as if it were any different from the rest of his studio apartment, Viktor goes to take a seat on the edge of the bed, resting his cane beside him. Jayce doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he was on it earlier, committing heinous activities and leaving behind the bottle of lube on his nightstand and the wrinkling sheets as unmistakable evidence. It’s nothing Viktor hasn’t seen, anyway. 

Jayce sits next to Viktor and places his hands in his lap. He doesn’t say anything when he does. Neither does Viktor. His head is too busy being on a swivel, looking around at all the things that decorate Jayce’s bedroom. It looks as though a teenager was given too much creative freedom and got to fill his space however he pleased. 

Posters are plastered over the walls, the nightstand is covered with a stack of books, and the top of his dresser is home to his favorite collectibles. Things he’d normally be embarrassed about. It’s what makes it feel more like a home to him. But Viktor’s small, barely there smile remains.

Now that he thinks about it, this is the closest they’ve made it to his bedroom. Last time, they had fornicated on the couch. Now, they’re actually sitting on the bed. Maybe Viktor was right. The bed is getting extra intimate right now. Like there are just a few more layers pulled off between them, leaving them, Jayce in particular, more exposed than before.

Viktor starts off first, breaking the awkward silence with, “So…”

“ So… ” Jayce repeats. Stupid. So awkward and stupid.

Viktor rolls his head forward in a nodding motion, oh-so casually, or as casually as he can. “You tried fingering yourself.” It sounds like a statement rather than a question.

“I– yeah,” he sighs, almost disappointed. He shakes his head. “I– we don’t have– You don’t have to. Help, I mean. You don’t have to do anything, really. It was stupid of me to even call.”

Viktor shrugs and turns to face Jayce. He falls back onto his hands, propping himself up. “That’s the whole point of our arrangement, though, no? You call me for sex. We have sex. You feel good after sex. We don’t talk about sex—”

Jayce reaches a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You know, I don’t really know how you do it. Every time you try to explain our situation, it sounds more and more like prostitution.”

“You are not paying me, so it’s not,” Viktor states matter-of-factly, which still doesn’t ease Jayce’s mind. “It’s okay, you know. Sex, and everything that comes with it. The strong emotions, the random urges. The visceral need to fuck something on a random Tuesday. It’s all natural. Biological human desires.”

“I know that,” Jayce says. But does he, though? Because Viktor doesn’t seem to believe him by the look he’s giving him, an arched brow, scanning his face for any inconsistencies. He doesn’t really believe himself, either. He insists further, “Yeah, I know that. It’s just… It’s just complicated.”

Viktor’s expression softens. “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

Jayce’s voice drops lower than anticipated, “Why does it feel like it is, though? For me, at least.”

“Because…” Viktor starts, and he tries to find the right words to say, Jayce thinks, when he just settles with, “I think maybe you’re holding on to some things that are preventing you from letting go and enjoying it.”

The conversation dies off there, and they don’t bother picking it back up. They sit beside one another, hands in their lap — Jayce picking at his nails, Viktor toying with the handle of his cane. Trying to think of something, anything, to ease into a conversation again. They both know what they want, what Viktor came here for, but—

Okay, wait. Viktor is moving now. He takes his cane and props it against the bed on the other side of him. Nothing stands in the way between him and Jayce now. Jayce turns slightly to face him at the same time, and their eyes meet. Soft. Viktor’s eyes are watching him softly, not in concern, but in interest. With care.

“How many fingers did you use?” Viktor asks, breaking the silence that once upheld them.

Jayce reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Uhm, two. Just two.”

“Just two is still impressive for a beginner,” Viktor says, and it sends heat surfacing to the planes of Jayce’s face. “And you used lube, yes?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “maybe too much.”

“Well, it’s best to use more than not having enough…” Viktor hums. His eyes trace Jayce’s figure, moistening his lips as he does so. “I can… I can help you, you know,” he says. “Don’t worry, this isn’t some conversion thing. I could use a breather after trying to organize my thesis all night. Something that doesn’t have to do with prototypes and designs. Plus, I promised you an orgasm on the phone. I wouldn’t hold out on you.”

Jayce chuckles, looking down at his hands fumbling in his lap, “Well, it’s a good thing I called you then.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m glad you did,” Viktor says softly.

He then turns his body slowly, so slowly, toward Jayce, his knee coming up on the bed to sit better. Jayce watches his every movement, eyes the way Viktor’s hand hesitantly inches toward his lap, his fingers slightly shaking on their own as he waits for something, anything telling him he needs to stop. Jayce wouldn’t be the one to do it. No, not tonight. He wanted this.

Viktor’s hand lies flat on Jayce’s thigh, right at the edge of his shorts, his fingertips brushing over the hem. They slip underneath one teasing finger at a time. They sneakily wiggle their way in, Jayce watching as they find the end of his boxers and toy with the stitching. They slip beneath his boxers, too, but don’t dare to move any further until he looks up at Jayce. 

Viktor speaks low, again, with a leering slowness that only he can possess, “Do you trust me, Jayce?”

“Trust you?” It nearly comes out as a breath, the next words even softer, “Yeah, yeah. I trust you.”

“I don’t mean with your dirty little secret,” he says with just as much secrecy in his tone. As if speaking it into the near-empty room was too revealing itself. “I mean, do you trust me… in this?”

In this, whatever it may be. In his room, in his space, in all of his uncertainty. In their arrangement, in their mutual exchange. 

Viktor makes Jayce feel comfortable in his own skin. Makes him feel like no matter what goes on in his head, frantic thoughts racing, his mind ablaze with a million possibilities, there can be a constant. Things can remain normal. Despite every part of their friendship, or whatever this is, being far from normal, they can be normal together. 

Because what defines normal? Is it what Jayce is used to? Things he’s familiar with? Is normal what he knows, and not normal being what he doesn’t know?

Jayce nods, honestly, truthfully, because he does. He trusts Viktor. And not even a minute later, he’s pushing himself onto the bed as Viktor follows. 

He scoots back until his head is propped against the wall behind his bed and his back is supported by the pillows. As Viktor gets closer, his hands skate up Jayce’s thighs and assist him in pulling his shorts and boxers down. His aching cock, already leaking with precum, springs free, now resting against his stomach. He kicks his bottoms off his feet and tosses them aside as he lets his knees bow to the bed.

He feels more exposed than ever before, but then again, with Viktor, it feels like he’s always been exposed. With how much helpless fumbling and nervous rambling and inexperienced hands he’s had to witness from him, Viktor could take it all and run with it. Could make banners showing off how the notable Jayce Talis is just an amateur kid with some crazy levels of horniness that have led him to some dark places (specifically to public bathrooms for blowjobs). 

But he hasn’t. And Jayce doesn’t think he will. 

Viktor crawls between his legs, making himself comfortable there. His hands trail the innermost part of Jayce’s thighs, the strip of his legs that rarely ever gets touched. It’s so sensitive that his cock twitches against his stomach when Viktor’s index and middle finger mark a trail right up to his base before clasping it in hand in full.

He smiles almost coyly as he takes his other hand and hooks it under Jayce’s other leg, hiking that onto his shoulder. Now Jayce really feels more exposed than before, but Viktor tries to soothe it by lowering his head to his thigh and leaving behind a wet trail with his lips up, and up and up. It’s not quite kissing, but it’s also not as innocent as it seems.

Jayce is ready to chide him, “Vik–”

“At least I’m not kissing your lips,” he quips so cunningly, “I am simply prepping you.”

“Prepping me— fuck,” the words leave his mouth in a breathy moan when he feels Viktor’s lips leave wet kisses on his balls, causing him to clench entirely. 

Viktor hums in satisfaction when he does. He lets his mouth lead now, his tongue moving over the seam as his other hand begins stroking his cock at a painstakingly slow pace. 

Fuck, giving Viktor this much control might actually be the death of him. Maybe he’ll get payback for last week when he made Viktor fuck himself on his dick for his little attitude. 

Viktor continues to suck on his balls one by one, never failing to give both of them the same dedication, even as Jayce feels himself squirming in his grasp. He’s not used to having this much attention down there, but Viktor seems to know how to work his mouth on Jayce to the point where his thoughts escape him and words fail him. 

Jayce’s mouth parts. “V-Viktor, you don’t have to—” 

Wet and slobberishly, Viktor moves his tongue from his balls and up to the hilt of his cock, flattening it around the circumference of him and dragging upward toward his leaking head. Shivers roll down every exposed part of Jayce’s body like a wave, a tsunami, and it silences him completely. 

Viktor puts his cock in his mouth without hesitation, with an eagerness he hasn’t seen in anyone before. He closes down around him, bobbing his head down and back up in a slow, teasing motion until Jayce’s legs are quivering on either side of him. Jayce’s free hand reaches out to the top of Viktor’s head, his nails sinking into the thickness of his hair, while the other purchases a chunk of the sheets in a tight fist.

He could come right now, just like this, with his dick stuffed in Viktor’s mouth, and he’d die a happy man just like this. But just as soon as he begins melting into the mattress, Viktor pops off of him.

“Lube,” he commands, and Jayce is right there at his summoning. 

He reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, careful not to fumble and drop it with nervous hands, and flips it open. He squirts what looks like an absurd amount onto Viktor’s extended hand and fingers, and watches almost curiously as he takes his hand away and brings it to Jayce’s ass. Jayce tries to relax as he does, throwing his head back on the pillow and swallowing down. Viktor lathers it over the area at first, covering his once lubricated hole some more to be thoroughly prepped before he’s pressing the pad of his finger against him lightly. 

Jayce gasps at first, feeling the pressure building from down below. Then, within the same motion, he melts into a puddle all over again when Viktor covers his cock with his mouth. He’s so enthralled by Viktor’s mouth that he doesn’t notice when he slips the first finger in. It feels familiar, like when he did it to himself, but much more relaxed. Much, much better here than he did before. Viktor’s experience pays off every time.

Then Viktor is stroking him, while sucking him off, while also fingering him simultaneously, until he’s a writhing, whining mess in his hands. It becomes too much, too fast, but it feels too fucking good to have him stop. 

“F-Fuck, Viktor. Your mouth feels so-so good, so fucking good,” he moans, loud and guttaral, “Wanna come, gonna come .”

He feels himself practically throbbing inside Viktor’s mouth, moments from exploding down his fucking throat with no control, until Viktor’s pulling off of him and the feeling ceases entirely. Until the bubbling sensation in his gut simmers down to a hum and his chest heaves as he chases after his breath. Until Viktor is pulling his fingers out of his ass and looking up at him with the cockiest grin he’s ever seen from the man.

“If I recall, it took you three times to finally notice me trying to get your attention from across the bar.” There’s an intriguing glint in his eyes as he lowers his mouth toward Jayce’s throbbing cock. “Seems only fair I get to edge you too, no?”

Wait a damn minute. He wants to do this two more times. Fucking hell. Maybe this will be the death of him. 

Rest in peace, Jayce Talis. Cause of death: prolonged orgasm, edged into oblivion.

Before Jayce can say anything, Viktor’s mouth is back on his cock and resuming his work. The motion of sucking him off and fucking him with his fingers repeats. He’s bobbing his head again at the same tempo, with the same enthusiasm. His other hand finds its way back down to his ass, which by now has clenched from the intensity in which his orgasm was approaching. He still manages to slip his moistened finger into his tight rim. In fact, he slips two fingers in, and little by little, pushes them in until fully inside of him. 

Jayce feels a gasp being choked out of him from the fullness of it. His back bows off the bed at an angle he didn’t think possible for him. His hand launches down to Viktor’s head again, carding his fingers into his hair. His awaited orgasm approaches even faster this time, almost unsuspecting, simmering below him and threatening to be unleashed. 

This time, Viktor is unrelenting. He gives his absolute all, every fiber of his being, into every ministration he uses on Jayce. He can see it in the way Viktor’s eyes flutter shut, brows furrowing in concentration. He uses his mouth to suck him in ever deeper, Jayce’s cock hitting depths of Viktor’s throat that send him choking on his own moans. 

That, paired with the crook of Viktor’s fingers pressing against the innermost sensitive spot inside of him, sends him spiraling back into a state of pure orgasmic bliss. He’s trembling so wearily that he has to throw his other hand down and clasp it around Viktor’s wrist to stop him.

“Fuck, yellow! Yellow light, please,” he gasps. 

He shouts yellow light, thankfully not red, but Viktor stops anyway, pulling his mouth off of him completely. His eyes immediately grow with worry, pulling his fingers out of Jayce at the same time and going to lay his hand on his thigh in a soothing manner. Jayce can’t help the strangled whimper that leaves him at the withdrawal, something that sounds so out of character even for him. 

“Are you okay?” Viktor’s voice is filled with concern, a softness to it that Jayce hasn’t heard from him before. “Sh-shit. I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” Jayce breathes out, his voice light. “It’s okay. I promise.”

Exhaustedly, he throws his head back to the pillows, his eyes falling shut as he throws his arm over his forehead. He tries to catch his breath as he feels the coil in his gut loosening once again, another orgasm lost. He can feel the bed shift slightly under the weight as Viktor crawls up toward him on all fours.

“Was I too much?” he asks softly. 

“You were,” Jayce huffs humorously, fluttering his eyes up to Viktor’s curious stare, “ fucking amazing. ”

A few seconds pass, Viktor blinking down at Jayce before he says a quiet, “What?”

Jayce is immediately using what little strength he has right now to push himself up onto his elbows. His face warms as he begins helplessly rambling, “You just– I just– It felt good, you know. It felt amazing. You made it feel amazing. I couldn’t keep up with it. With you, is all.”

Viktor’s shoulders slope slightly. “I have been told I can get carried away sometimes. I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry,” Jayce says softly, insistently. He offers him a weak but hopefully reassuring smile. “We don’t… have to stop, if you still want to keep going. I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

He raises a wary brow. “You still want to have sex after this?”

Jayce nods, almost a bit too eagerly. “I’ve wanted to have sex with you since you came over. And I want to come,” he swallows, “I need to come, so yes.”

Viktor smiles. “Okay,” is all he says.

They move with a fluid cohesiveness this time. Like they know where to go, how to place themselves, how to maneuver their bodies with one another. Like two working parts built with compatibility. The awkwardness between them had been dissolved, now replaced with a practiced familiarity. They’ve switched positions this time without much of a conversation needed. Viktor drops onto the bed as Jayce pushes himself up and makes room for him, sitting on his folded knees between Viktor’s legs. 

Viktor inches toward the head of the bed and assumes Jayce’s place, propped back on his elbows. Jayce helps him out of his sweats, careful as he slides the waistband over his knee brace. 

“How do you want me?” Viktor asks after Jayce tosses his sweats to the floor, which leads Jayce to look at him curiously.

Oh, right. He didn’t mention anything about switching positions. He doesn’t think he has the confidence to, either. 

Viktor looks up at him as they pause their movements. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to take it up the ass today, if that’s what the look you’re giving me is asking. You nearly cut the circulation to my fingers; I wouldn’t want you to cut my dick off.”

Jayce’s face falls flat. “You couldn’t have worded that a little differently?”

“Sorry,” Viktor rolls his eyes, his voice softening. “Personally, I didn’t think you were ready for me to take your precious flower tonight–”

“Oh, fuck off .” 

Laughter erupts between the two, light and playful. When it dies down, Jayce clears his throat and nods his head to Viktor. “Get on your hands and knees.”

He raises a brow at Jayce. A test? No. A challenge. It’s always a challenge with Viktor. 

“Now,” he says a bit rougher, sounding a bit too out of character for his liking. He follows up with, “Please. If you can, and if your leg is okay.”

Viktor’s eyes flicker, as does the corner of his mouth. He rolls over on the bed, making an effort to keep his eyes locked on Jayce as he positions himself on his knees, turned away from him. He makes it known the tease show he’s giving him as he hooks his thumbs into his boxers, shimmying them down his hips and thighs until they bunch down at his knees. He makes an extra effort to present his ass to Jayce as if it’s a trophy, a prize he had just won. Dangling the treat right in front of his eyes almost tauntingly. 

It works, because at this point, Jayce’s dick is panging with each passing second he isn’t shoved so deep inside of Viktor that he can’t breath. 

Viktor leans forward onto his hands, and Jayce grabs the lube, flipping the bottle open and lathering another heaping of the liquid on to his dick, coating himself thoroughly. He gathers some of it on his fingers and massages the lube onto Viktor’s hole, watching the ringed muscle flutter just from making contact. Jayce feels his gut sink low, oh-so low. Fuck, he’s so unbelievably turned on from this. 

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks, almost shakily. He tilts his head in question. “I mean, should I prep you, too?”

Viktor whips his hair to one side and cranes his neck back to look at him. “It’s fine, Jayce,” he answers, arching his hips up even more. He’s just as eager as Jayce is, if not more. “I’ve taken far more than this.”

Something indescribable burns inside Jayce’s chest, but he pushes it off as he chooses just to put his thumb to the first knuckle, watching as his rim clasps around it almost perfectly. He uses his other hand to spread his cheek apart, giving him a better view of his ass. Jayce gathers saliva on his tongue and leans over, letting the glob drop to Viktor’s ass. It lands with a particularly loud splat! And he can hear Viktor let out a soft gasp at the same time. Fuck, he can’t take it anymore.

Pulling his thumb out just enough to spread him open, he lines his cock between Viktor’s cheeks, rutting his hips forward and gathering saliva on the underside of his dick before he arches forward and prods inside. They both let out a pitchy moan at the breach, before Jayce slides right in, slowly and carefully. Just like the first time they fucked, it takes a few preparatory thrusts to wedge himself inside fully before they’re bouncing against each other with accelerating speeds. 

“Fucking hell, Vik. You’re so,” Jayce huffs, “so fucking tight,” he hisses, feeling himself being pulled right back in each time he tries to escape. 

Viktor gives him no chance to recover, as he’s slamming his hips back each time Jayce reels away. There’s a wet smack of skin to skin accompanying each thrust between the two, and Jayce can see, can feel the moist stickiness between their conjoined hips growing more and more obscene. 

It fuels him forward and deeper, giving him the chance to slide his cock into the far, nearly untouched parts of Viktor that he’s made it his goal to hit. And only him. If they’re doing this, he wants to be the only one who can reach that spot inside of him that has his toes curling, back arching. It’s almost maddening to think about, gods forbid he even dare to say something so possessive. But it doesn’t stop him from trying with all his might to bring Viktor to the precipice of burning pleasure. 

“Sh-shit, Jayce, you —” Viktor can only utter unintelligible words as Jayce slams his hips forward, his cock lurching inside of him.

He’s surprised he’s managed to take control of the situation, rendering Viktor pliable and needy. He pulls his hips back with a controlled slowness, only to throw them forward so hard, and so deep that he’s absolutely sure he’s hitting the right spot. Viktor throws his head back, his back, although he can barely see due to his sweatshirt, bows so far that he didn’t think it was possible to bend in such a way. He certainly can’t mimic it, not being nearly nimble or lean enough. Just watching Viktor’s body move like so, sends his gut dropping even further, building on that bubbling explosion forming below. 

Jayce’s hand reaches forward, skating across the arch of Viktor’s back until it reaches the base of his neck, tangling in with his loose and wild hair. Just to feel, just to touch. To familiarize his fingers with threading through his waves. He twirls his fingers through Viktor’s hair, a tangled mixture of ashy brown and blond until it’s secured within his grasp. Then he pulls, not too hard, but just enough to summon control. Viktor gives it to him. The sound that comes out of him is filled with pure bliss.

His hips refuse to relent now that he’s gotten hold of Viktor. They snap forward with an urgency he didn’t know he could possess. But he’s been edging himself for nearly an hour and a half, the tether to his patience having been tugged and yanked and pulled on for far too long. He needed to let go of his inhibitions, of anything holding him back. It wasn’t a want anymore to fuck Viktor into oblivion until he was trembling and weightless, it was a need. A need to fuck him so good and so fully that they were both run down with exhaustion but completely spent with pleasure. 

Jayce’s other hand roams free from his hips. He had nearly punctured the skin of Viktor’s hips so hard, it was bound to leave marks. Now, his fingers inch over the hem of Viktor’s sweatshirt, slipping underneath and brushing over the unmarked territory of his back. 

He wants to touch him. Jayce realizes that’s what you normally do when you’re having sex. It’s impossible not to. But he wants to touch Viktor. Everywhere, all over. Until his skin would be replaced with the marking of Jayce’s fingerprints. Until there’s not an inch left that he hasn’t touched. Until Viktor has forgotten what it felt like not to be touched by him.

Jayce’s hand slides forward, almost fully underneath his sweatshirt, to the dip of Viktor's back and just below his protruding ribcage. The angle of his back makes it more prominent, making it easy for Jayce’s thumbs to slide beneath them with ease. A shuddered moan leaves Viktor’s mouth, and Jayce’s hips almost falter at the sound. He recovers, however, as his eyes jump to pinpoint each mole marking Viktor’s back, like a trail on a map begging to be followed. 

His hand continues to move, until it’s sliding under his sweatshirt and hiking it up further. Just briefly, can he see the discoloration of skin, markings on his spine. Scars made in a uniform pattern that could only be from something operational, surgical. It only makes him want to see more. See more of Viktor, see more of his skin, see more of his history marking his body, even the parts of himself he wants to hide.

But Viktor is pushing himself up off the bed before he can seek out more of his bare skin. With Jayce still fully sheathed inside of him, Viktor rises from the bed as Jayce’s hand slides down to his waist. His back meets Jayce’s chest, and he can feel the size difference between them now that they’re pressed together. Viktor’s hand reaches back to Jayce’s hip bone, sinking his fingernails in and moving along with the motion as Jayce resumes his thrust at an upward angle.

Holy fuck. This just unlocked a whole new angle for them both, sending their breaths trembling and voices shattered by natural sound. Jayce is fucked, so unbelieveably fucked now. He’s lost control of any of his senses at this point. 

Jayce drops his head against the crook of Viktor’s shoulder, right into the depths of his hair. He finds a new place for his hands, the one previously on his back now moving to his front, to his abdomen right above his bouncing cock. He reaches down and bites further and clasps his hand around it, stroking Viktor in short, frantic jerks. 

His other hand, sunken into his hair, uncurls it from his fingers and lets it slide over his other shoulder and across his chest. Like this, pinned within his arms, Jayce is able to hold Viktor’s body as he fucks himself up into him without restraint. 

“Fuck, Vik–” Jayce whines so pathetically right into his ear. He can’t even get a full sentence out, let alone think of one. He’s just rambling curses under his breath and hoping something, anything that comes out makes any sense.

“Jayce,” his name sounds like it’s nearly being choked out of him.

Viktor leans his head back, dropping it to Jayce’s shoulder. Jayce’s eyes slide over to him, to his exposed neck, to his parted lips and fluttering eyes and reddened cheeks. 

God, he looks absolutely delicious. He can’t think of another word to describe the beauty of Viktor’s fucked-out expression right now. Almost out of control, acting on pure instinct he isn’t aware of, Jayce tilts his jaw toward Viktor’s neck, letting his stubble rub against his raw skin. His tongue darts out, flattening over his neck and licking a strip upward to his earlobe.

A breathless chuckle leaves Viktor’s parted lips, “No kiss—”

“Not kissing,” Jayce huffs, his hot breath warming the wet skin of his neck, “just tasting.”

And he tastes him again, and again, and again, until he’s practically mouthing at his neck feverishly, hungrily. His teeth drag over the exposed skin connecting his shoulder to his neck, and he can viscerally feel Viktor tighten around him, nearly squeezing this long-awaited orgasm right out of him.

“I wanna— fuck,” a helpless sound, a loud and unabashed sound rips from Jayce’s throat, “I need to come. Please, Viktor, please. I’ve been waiting all fu-fucking night. I need to come.”

“Mmgh,” is all Viktor can manage to get out. 

Not enough. If that was permission, it wasn’t clear. He needs to know it’s okay. To know he has permission. To know he’s been good, and he’s waited long enough to finally let go. 

“Please, Viktor.” Any longer now, and the tears forming at the corners of his eyes might break free. “Can I please come? Please, let me—”

“Come, Jayce,” Viktor finally manages to spit out between thrusts. “Co-come inside me. I know you want to.”

Viktor finishes his sentence and immediately drops back down to the bed, his body collapsing on top of the mattress. Jayce practically mounts him. He ruts inside him with an almost painful neediness, his chest pinned to Viktor’s back, forehead centered on the nape of his neck. He fills him up, so quickly and so deeply that he knows it’s going to be inside him for at least a very long time. Good, Jayce thinks so greedily, unashamed. Let it stay in there.

Jayce finds Viktor’s cock trapped between the mattress and his hips, giving it a few weak pumps before his orgasm follows shortly after. Viktor comes, all over Jayce’s hand, his own shirt, the sheets, but Jayce doesn’t care. He keep rubbing his hand over his throbbing cock until Viktor is shaking against him, humping into Jayce’s hand and the bed. 

His voice cracks, and a moan rips from his throat, something higher and more open, vocal than Jayce had ever heard from him. Jayce continues whatever the fuck he’s doing just to chase that sound and whatever others he can pull from Viktor until he feels himself falling limp. Jayce heaves a breathless whine as he pulls out of him, falling back onto his haunches as he looks down between them. 

Is there a normal way to say that Viktor looks absolutely breathtaking like this? 

Folded over his own legs with his back arched, glancing over his shoulder at Jayce with this helpless, yet satisfied expression on his face. Rings of white cover his cock, and even more stickiness coats the inside of Viktor’s legs and backside. And his ass, pale and plush, with moles sprinkled across his skin like stars and burned with incriminating red fingerprints like comets. His body is like an unexplored solar system, with its own set of beauty marks and scars that Jayce is itching to discover little by little.

Fuck, honestly, he could probably come again if Viktor commanded him. Might even do it twice more if Viktor begged just a little. 

“Remind me not to edge you,” Viktor mutters weakly as he pushes himself up on his hands and knees again, “or else you’ll go ballistic on my ass.” 

“Sorry, I…” Jayce blows raspberries as he tries to compose himself. “I have no idea what came over me.”

Viktor rolls himself over onto his side, legs shaking as he does so. He pans down, his eyes immediately locking on the white streaks left on the bed, right at the center of where he was lying. Heat surfaces his face in a light dusting of pink.

“Shit, I–” Viktor shakes his head, eyes flutter in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Normally, I am a lot better at controlling, eh, this .”

Jayce tilts his head in confusion. “Controlling your orgasm?” He chuckles lightly. “Come on, Viktor. It’s okay. With all the lube and shit, it probably needs to be washed anyway.”

Viktor reaches a hand up to his head, brushing the loose strands of hair from his face. He huffs out a breath in the process. “Let me help you take it to the wash, then.”

Jayce climbs off the bed, reaching for his discarded boxers and shorts from the floor, both in two different directions. He starts hopping on one foot as he slips those on.

“It’s all right. It’s downstairs. You can stay up here and relax.” He nods his head toward him. “Also, your shirt kind of got caught in the crossfire. We should probably throw it in the wash, too.” 

Viktor looks down at the streaks of white smeared on his sweatshirt, an incriminating sight. They made quite a mess together. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it.”

Jayce stands at the end of the bed, fully clothed now, hands on his hips. “Are you serious about going to walk out with that on?”

Viktor offers a measly shrug. As if that was going to pass as a real answer.

“I would hope not,” he says. He nods his head toward the door, in the direction of the laundromat downstairs, as if Viktor would know where it is. “Let me toss it in there really quick, and I’ll lend you one of mine. When it’s done, you’re free to leave. It will only take, like, fifty minutes max. They’re speed washing and drying machines.”

Viktor sighs in defeat, although he doesn’t sound as disappointed as Jayce thought he would.

They move efficiently now, Jayce passing Viktor his cane, Viktor using it to go to the bathroom and wash up the best he can (Jayce plans on doing the same later), while Jayce finds him a shirt to wear in the meantime. When he returns from the bathroom now with his pants on, Jayce strips the bed of the sheets, leaving just the mattress cover, and watches Viktor change into the shirt he lent him from the corner of his eye.

Viktor’s shirt is off. He’s bare-chested, a rare sight to Jayce, and he feels as if he’s committing a crime, like what he’s trying to see is taboo. It’s just another man. He could even say his friend. There’s no need for him to make it weird. But this is Jayce, and sometimes, he can’t help it.

As he’s folding the sheet into a bundle to take downstairs, he can see a tattoo on Viktor’s chest, something he had recognized from the first night they met, and he had caught a glimpse then. Before Jayce can get a better look, Viktor is tossing him the soiled sweatshirt with a smirk and shooing him away to his apartment’s laundromat as he puts on the new shirt. 

When Jayce returns five minutes later, Viktor is fully dressed again and skimming his finger over the books stacked on his nightstand. Jayce is quiet as he steps in and returns to the bed, but he knows he’s not quiet enough that Viktor wouldn’t hear him. 

“Find anything incriminating?” 

Viktor doesn’t cease his investigation. He looks through the variety of textbooks, whatever comic books have held his attention at the time, and his specialty as of late, at the top of the stack, Mother of Learning, an engaging novel series about mages, science, and Jayce’s favorite aspect of the story, a time-loop. Viktor seems to take a particular interest in it, picking up the first edition of the series and flipping to the page where Jayce last bookmarked.

“Besides the fact that you have a physical copy of Mother of Learning just lying on your nightstand, not much,” Viktor says, a small chuckle coming from his nose. “Leaving this out in the open should be a crime. That, and still being stuck on book one.”

Jayce smiles, watching as Viktor's eyes trace over the words printed on the page. He reads them with an intrigued smile of his own. He must be familiar with it. “This is my third read-through, actually. You’re a fan of Mother of Learning?”

“Fan is too light a word.” Viktor closes the book and sets it back down in its former place. He smirks as he looks back at him. “I prefer avid enthusiast. I remember reading the series on the online forum. Just recently, I have only been able to secure a physical copy of the second and third books, though.”

Jayce sits down across from Viktor, sliding his leg on top of the mattress and watching as Viktor gets comfortable on his side of the bed. “I’ve only been able to get hold of the first and fourth ones. But that copy is safe and secure at my mother’s house. I didn’t trust having it mailed here.”

“That means together we have a completed set,” Viktor says softly. “If we were to combine our collections, that is.”

Jayce’s smile grows softly, fondly. “We do.” 

Viktor lies down, and Jayce does the same. They both lay on their respective places, hands lapping over one another as they clutch the pillows by their heads on their sides of the bed. It’s a full-sized bed, but it’s noticeable that Jayce favors one side over the other by how the mattress gives way to his weight, and the way the pillows are piled in that direction. And Viktor is lying right on it. Viktor’s head on his pillows, his hair messily fanned out, his skin touching the same sheets he sleeps on every night. 

Once comfortable on the bed, Viktor arches his neck, turning back to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand. When he faces him again, he offers him a half smile.

“You have nine minutes and thirty seconds starting now, by the way,” he announces.

Jayce furrows his brows humorously. “You’re still keeping track of the seconds part?”

Viktor meets his gaze with the same playful glint. “A lot can happen in thirty seconds, Jayce.”

Jayce snorts first, a loud and childish sound. Then he laughs. Viktor joins him, and it’s soft, sweet, playful, like they have nothing in the world to worry about. Jayce almost wishes he could hear him laugh more, that they had met under circumstances where Jayce could hear him laugh first. It’s a relieving thing, honestly. It makes things feel normal, or as close to normal as they are to each other.

When it simmers down, Jayce tries to start the conversation again, this time pushing away his nervousness to ask, more so say, “You have a tattoo.”

Viktor nods. “I do. And you?”

“Do I have one?” He folds his lips and shakes his head vigorously. “No. I think my mom would kill me if she ever found out I got a tattoo.”

He shrugs. “So would my mother. Alas, she is not here to punish me for it.”

Oh shit. Jayce’s mouth parts, and his eyes flutter as he tries to look as sympathetic as he can be after just now hearing this news. He’s about to fumble out an apology he isn’t required to say, or something, hell, anything to ease the conversation from becoming oddly morbid when Viktor's eyes grow in size.

“She’s not dead, Jayce. She’s just back home.”

Viktor laughs first this time, and Jayce joins him, although quieter. Both because he’s nervous and because he wants to hear that sound coming from Viktor a little better, a little clearer.

Jayce questions further, “Your tattoo, is it words?”

Viktor nods again. “Per aspera ad astra.”

“What does it mean?”

“Through hardships to the stars,” he answers. Partially hopeful, partially shy.

“It’s beautiful,” Jayce murmurs under his breath, unashamed of his own awe. It really is beautiful, as he imagined it would be. Is he allowed to say that? Well, if Viktor had heard Jayce’s compliment, he chose not to say anything. “What made you want to get it?”

“Eh, it means something to me,” Viktor says with a half smile. “Makes me feel like everything I have been through is worth it for something in the end. I fight through hardships every day to reach the stars, or whatever that may be.”

“Those hardships… Are they the scars on your back?” Jayce immediately withdraws when the words fall from his mouth. Shit. Fuck. Think before you speak next time, damn it! He can see the way Viktor’s expression falters from it, too, shrinking slightly at the intrusion. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t really know why I just asked that.”

Viktor shakes his head, his expression morphing into something more unreadable. “It’s okay. You’re just…” He shrugs. “Curious. I can’t blame you for it. But yes, Jayce, they are the reason for the tattoos. Some of my disability was operational, hence the scars on my back. And some of it wasn’t, hence my handy cane and brace. It’s something I’ve lived with it everyday. I like to think that my perseverance must be for something greater than myself. A little childish, I suppose.” 

“Not childish,” Jayce answers honestly, although he fears he may have already screwed it up his chances at redemption. “It’s admirable.”

Viktor sucks in a deep breath and gives him a half-hearted smile, not bothering to respond to that last part. He moves on, following up with, “Well, now this seems like an unfair trade. Tell me something about you. Something interesting that not a lot of people know.” He nods his head up, gesturing to his face. “Like that scar on your eyebrow.”

First, Jayce notices the fact that Viktor had just told him something that not a lot of people know about him. Then, he notices what he’s asking him now.

“Oh, this?” He reaches a hand up to rub at the scar that nearly cleaves his eyebrow in half. A stupid mistake he had made, and the evidence it left behind. “It’s kind of a long story.”

Viktor raises a brow. “You have me in your bed for another,” he arches his neck to the clock again, grunting as he turns back, “seven minutes and fifteen seconds.”

“It might take longer than that,” Jayce tests. 

Viktor rolls his eyes, but it’s void of any sarcasm. “Okay, fine. I can excuse the time constraint just this once.” He gives Jayce a pointed look. “This better be a good story.”

Jayce breathes out in relief before he begins. “Remember how I said I’m kind of, sort of not allowed to use the labs on campus anymore?”

He was hoping Viktor had forgotten about it by some chance, but he smirks knowingly. “Oh, now I get to hear this story. I’m intrigued.”

“It was a project I had been working on for my Introduction to Materials Engineering class,” he starts. “It was a miniature prototype for a self-operating waste distributing system based on building material. I had it functionalized and everything to work just like it would at full size. It was almost ready to go; I just needed a space to test it. When I was taking Professor Bolbok’s course my senior year, we had access to late-night lab hours that we could use to come in and put in our final pieces to our projects for the class leading up to finals. Seeing as I live in a literal shoebox here,” he gestures to his room, the pitiful thing he called home, “I needed a place to work on my in-class project, so I brought it to the lab hours one night.”

Viktor raises a brow as he listens closely.

Jayce huffs, “It was supposed to work. Everything was meant to work. But, of course, it’s nine PM, and I’m alone, or so I think, and I’m testing it out on some loose scraps I had found lying around the classroom when it malfunctions. The sorting code or something trips out, and it sends things flying. Metal scraps and wood chips were being flung in the air.” He gestures to the scar on his eyebrow. “I ended up getting hit with some of the broken shards. I got lucky that it was only my eyebrow, because it could have been my eye.”

“There is more to the story, isn’t there?” Viktor asks. 

Jayce continues, “Well, yeah. Some of the scraps also hit the emergency fire sprinklers before I could shut it down. The sprinklers went off and ruined all of the stored projects that had been left in the classroom. And to my luck, they also happened to go off in Professor Bolbok’s office. Which he was in.”

Viktor winces.

“Next thing I know, I’m sitting in the dean’s office at ten PM, patching up my eyebrow as I wait to hear about whether or not I had to pack my bags and go back home. Luckily, they let me off with a slap on the wrist so long as I kept all my destructive inventions at home. It’s in the past now, and Professor Bolbok won’t let me into any of his classes, so I have to take them with Hoskel instead.” Jayce sighs heavily. “It was a stupid project that I swore up and down to the school board that I wouldn’t touch on school grounds again.”

“Wow,” he says, and Jayce is ready to defend himself on his motives when Viktor continues with, “Frankly, I don’t think it was that stupid, really.”

“What?”

“I mean, sure, your execution was idiotic, using scrap materials for testing.” Viktor shrugs casually, as if Jayce hadn’t told him one of the most embarrassing stories from his undergrad. “But I think your motive itself was quite clear,” he says rather calmly. “You wanted to test a prototype, and every engineer needs to experience a failure or two before they can truly get their projects to work, no? It’s simply part of the scientific process.”

“Yeah,” Jayce murmurs, nodding his head slowly. This is the first time someone has actually tried to see it from his perspective. This isn’t a trick, right? “I guess, yeah. I think they had expected that much from me, anyway. Failure and all. I mean, my father was the same way. The man, practically the voice in my head, telling me to give it all up despite him not being in my life since I was, what, seventeen .”

Instead of chastising him, instead of teasing him about being terrible at listening to his superiors or whatever backlash he’s used to receiving, Viktor says, “I take it your father doesn’t approve of your career choice.”

“Doesn’t,” Jayce shakes his head, taking back his choice of words, “didn’t approve of anything, really. It’s… weird.” He holds on to the breath in his throat before letting it out as a sigh. “I haven’t seen him or heard from him in nearly nine years now, and yet… so many of the choices I’ve made, he somehow had a hand in each and every one of them.” 

Viktor doesn’t respond to him, but his expression does soften to something close to sympathy. He still hasn’t looked away, and Jayce feels an unbearable amount of embarrassment flood his face in heat just from realizing he might have overshared. Guess they’re even now.

Jayce clears his throat, opting to roll to his back from his side to avoid watching Viktor’s expression change. “I don’t really know why I said that. Sorry.”

Viktor doesn’t look away from him, though. Jayce can see him watching his every move, feel him inspecting his face from his peripheral vision, despite his gaze being locked on the ceiling. 

A few seconds pass before he asks almost hesitantly, “Why aren’t you with Mel, Jayce?” 

Jayce folds his hands over his stomach, shrugging. “I don’t know. I think she’s running some fundraising event tonight down at the art gallery.”

“No, I mean with her. You two seem quite smitten with each other. Why not upgrade the relationship from fucking to love making?” 

Jayce assumes curiosity finally hit him hard enough for him to ask. He must not have gotten the answer he wanted from Mel, seeing as they’re best friends, and decided to ask Jayce himself. 

“Because it’s not like that,” Jayce answers. “Besides, she’s really into Sevika. I wouldn’t dare get in the way of that. I like to think that we love and care for each other, but not in the way that calls for a relationship. And even if we did, I wouldn’t be able to give her everything she deserves. A real relationship, you know?”

Viktor raises a brow at him. “You don’t think you can be a man of commitment?”

Jayce shrugs. “How could I commit when I don’t really know what I want for myself?”

He rolls to his back as well, mocking the same position Jayce lies in. His eyes gently flutter shut as he hums, unamused, “Well, I bet you’ve been quite the heartbreaker in your time, Jayce Talis.”

Viktor doesn’t seem to think twice about his statement, aiming for something more playful and light-hearted. Jayce, on the other hand, can’t stop himself from whipping his head toward the other with his brows furrowed. A sarcastic chuckle slips from his mouth, a bit snarkier than he intended. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Viktor settled further against the pile of pillows behind him, unfazed. He crosses his arms over his chest, his legs doing the same at his ankles. 

“Frankly, I think you know what you want, but you’re too attracted to having a challenge to admit it.”

Jayce’s brows dig further. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugs. “Well, for one, you wanted to have sex, so you ended up having sex with your best friend. Not the greatest choice in my opinion, but I digress.” 

“What does that–”

He passes a quick glance in Jayce’s direction before continuing, “You wanted to improve at sex, so instead of, I don’t know, practicing with the person you want to get better for, you found the guy who sucked you off in a bar bathroom to help. You wanted to experiment, so now you hook up with a gay man once a week to test some theory. It’s counterintuitive, comically so. It seems like you use one challenge after another as an excuse to avoid getting what you truly want.”

Jayce pauses, nearly stunned. His chest is sinking and expanding with his breath as he feels himself running all of Viktor’s words through his head at a million miles a minute. It’s dizzying, almost, that he nearly forgets his place. Something about challenges, excuses, avoidance. That doesn’t sound like him. No, it can’t.

His eyes track over every feature of Viktor’s face to see if there happened to be a playful gesture coming. No. Nothing. Viktor’s expression doesn’t stray away from a particular nonchalance that Jayce can’t seem to grasp.

“Well, you’re no better,” he counters, almost petulantly. “You agreed to have sex with me for the sake of our mutual exchange.”

Viktor turns his head, and the expression on his face never wavers, even when his voice softens. “Because I have nothing to lose from this, Jayce.”

The words hit Jayce nearly like a freight train, barreling into him at high speeds and colliding with his chest, despite him already being fully aware of all that he could possibly lose from their arrangement.

“I’ve lived through prolonged stares, pathetic sympathies, whatever stupid treatment comes from being different, well before coming out. I’ve given up on being what everyone expects me to be, feeding into things that bring me no true satisfaction. I suppose the question for you is, are you able to do that? When your brilliant plan to please the world and yourself at the same time blows up in your face, are you going to be able to handle it?”

Jayce swallows hard. Viktor turns his head back to the ceiling, not bothering to take another glance at the hopeless expression cast on Jayce’s face. Good, he thinks. Because he isn’t too sure how he looks now. Stupid, he imagines. 

“It won’t be like this forever.” He hopes. “I’ll know eventually.” He hopes some more, so pathetically.

“I hope so,” is all Viktor says, unapologetically. 

Jayce doesn’t say anything. He has nothing to say. He just lets the words sit with him longer than Viktor had likely intended them to. Viktor doesn’t seem to know how to respond either, leaving them subject to the silence in the room. In an attempt to change the subject, Jayce turns his head, his body following to lie on his side again. 

“Why don’t you tell me about your thesis some more? We have the time, I think,” he murmurs before he glances at the clock over Viktor’s shoulder. “One minute and 30 seconds.”

This time, Viktor smiles, a weak smile, before he turns back to Jayce again, lying on his side. Then, he fills the room with talk of his studies once more.

Jayce wakes to the sound of the door slamming downstairs. The collision against the doorframe causes the walls to vibrate, startling him awake to find the morning light pouring in from the window. 

It was a common occurrence for the downstairs neighbors to slam their front door early in the morning. Late at night, too, but more often in the morning. If he was leaving to make it to a morning lecture, sometimes he’d catch the last half of it — the girlfriend storming away after slamming it shut, or her kicking the boyfriend out on multiple occasions when he’d come home in the early hours of the morning. 

Jayce often kept up with what the reason was, seeing as if he and the rest of the apartment complex were often updated each time one of them left, he might as well know why. However, he woke up this morning without a single care about the latest drama from downstairs.

He jolts up, his eyes flying open, and even in his half-sleepful state, he is still expecting to find Viktor lying across from him like he remembered falling asleep last night. But he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the other side of the bed looked as though it had been untouched, even. 

Jayce rolls over to his stomach, props himself up on his elbows, and cups his face in his hands. He drags them over the planes of his face as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. He didn’t even remember what time he had fallen asleep. He only remembers the events leading up to both he and Viktor being in his bed. He also remembered lying across from each other and talking, and remembers continuing the conversation, even with their eyes closed, as they waited for the timer on Jayce’s phone for the laundry machine to go off. And then now, in his empty bed.

Viktor had probably left right after he closed his eyes, not even bothering to stick around for the clothes to be done. And he wouldn’t blame him. It would make sense. Jayce was a manic mess for one half of the night, and a pathetic, horny freak the other half. That being said, Viktor had no obligation to stick around longer than needed. 

Jayce tries to brush it off, shaking his head out and brushing back what he could of his bedhead before pushing his chest off the bed. Sitting back on his haunches, he stretches himself out, and still, so stupidly expecting maybe Viktor to have slipped to the bathroom. For him to wander back in with that smirk on his face as he crosses his arms from the doorway. At least, it would have been better than waking up knowing his bed had been occupied when he fell asleep, and vacant when he woke up. 

When Jayce turns to look at his phone on his nightstand, instead of the display time, he’s met with a note. A yellow square sticky note with writing on it that looks like it could have been stolen from his workbench. He reaches over to pick it up, completely ignoring his phone.

That was longer than 9 ½ minutes. 

You owe me. 

— V

Jayce can’t fight the smile pulling on his lips as he looks down at the note before leaving it on the other side of the bed where Viktor last lay.

Chapter Text

There’s a part of Viktor that knows he should feel guilty for hooking up with Jayce, and it all comes down to two distinct reasons. 

One: Jayce is a straight man. (He has to remind himself of that sometimes.) 

Jayce is a straight man. And of course, Viktor is a gay man. Polar opposites of each other. Every indicator within society has warned him that, in terms of sexuality, they are absolutely incompatible. 

And yet. And yet… There is no one more like Viktor, as outcasted and particular as he is, than Jayce.

Every time he sees Jayce, he forgets their indifference. He forgets about the fact that they are worlds apart sometimes, yet somehow within the same cosmic pull. He forgets that they are incompatible until that little ping goes off in the back of his head every time he gets The Text, the are you up?, and when Jayce opens the door to welcome him into his apartment and his bed with open arms, and when Jayce is so deep inside him, pressing against the angle in Viktor that makes him sees stars. He forgets like he has the memory of a goldfish.

And he forgets that every kind gesture Jayce does for him – the aftercare, the reassurance, the icebreaker questions for the nine awkward minutes they have together that mean so much to him – it’s just out of basic human decency. That’s okay, he thinks.

Because two, Viktor doesn’t do relationships. (He has to remind himself of this, too.) 

Viktor doesn’t do relationships because they’re unpredictable, and people can change their minds at any given moment without so much as an explanation or a goodbye. He has accepted already, long ago, when he realized it’s easier to sex-first-talk-later, that he is incompatible with every single person he’s ever crossed paths with. 

Everyone except for that tiny, insignificant fraction of the population that is Jayce.

Jayce is a straight man; he always has to remind himself. Every fucking day, unfortunately. Like he’s waiting for the moment when he can say, “I told you so,” to himself. Because, yes, when he is with Jayce, he does forget. And yes, he does think he should feel guilty for hooking up with a straight man when he knows that it’s only a matter of time before Jayce realizes that he is as much of a straight man as the sky is green.

But there’s one thing about Viktor — he will never, ever feel guilty for giving into things that make him feel good. And hooking up with Jayce Talis makes him feel like he is on top of the fucking world. He may crash and burn before he denies himself the pleasure that he’s denied himself for his entire life.

It’s especially obvious that he does not feel an ounce of guilt as he sits across from Jayce at their reserved booth in The Last Drop, one shoe planted to the ground, the other rubbing tauntingly against Jayce’s calf and trailing upward.

Jayce says he is a straight man, but gods, is it just so much fun watching him try to back up that statement as he looks like he’s a thread away from breaking his composure. 

Viktor happily sits with a shit-eating grin curled on his lips from behind his cocktail glass. They are gathered at some local bar close to campus that all of the university students like to go to. Viktor didn’t for that reason. Too many peers to run into, too much cheap alcohol, too loud and too messy and too packed to the brim with nineteen and twenty-year-olds with their fake IDs that just can’t wait those last few months to get in. 

Oh, and by they, he means that he is sitting in a booth with Jayce, Mel, and Sevika. Yes, quite the awkward combo as of right now. Everyone is practically sleeping with everyone at this point.

Jayce, amidst his distraction, is trying to occupy himself by watching the foam in his beer dissipate bubble by microscopic bubble. Anything to conceal himself from the burning heat at the back of his neck rising as does Viktor’s foot. Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system, or his newfound ability to withstand Viktor’s teasing, but Jayce’s grounding is stellar tonight. Or maybe, he’s getting off on Viktor’s own frustrated glint in his eyes as he tries to test him. His will is iron-strong.

Mel whips her head to Jayce, neatly plucked brows centered to her forehead in question. “Jayce, you remember that?”

Jayce’s heavy hooded eyes rise in response, snapping him out of his daze. 

“Hm?” He hums in question, eyelashes fluttering as if he were just woken up from a dream.

“That one time at the bar?” Mel waves her hand in his direction as she tries to recount the scene that he was not listening to. “Where Vi punched through the punching machine and broke the record. Broke the machine, actually. That girl has a killer right hook.”

“Oh, yes. Yeah.” Jayce nods more enthusiastically, unaware of the creeping foot inching closer to his groin. “Yeah, that one. Good one, huh?”

Viktor’s foot makes it to the center of Jayce’s seat, and he presses down without warning. Bullseye. Jayce grunts, and his knees hit underneath the table. The whole tabletop wobbles, drinks included. Even Viktor loses his composure when Jayce grabs the foot planted at the apex of his thighs and grips hard.

Mel looks at Jayce, concerned. “Are you… okay?”

Jayce clears his throat. “Amazing.” 

Well, not inconspicuous at all.

Viktor frowns, already bored now that his foot has been captured. It’s the first time he’s been able to get Jayce’s attention since he had arrived at the table. Fashionably late, even after claiming that he wasn’t going to go. But when he had found out Jayce had planned on attending, his interest had piqued. His guest appearance surprised Mel, herself, especially since she lied to Viktor. 

“You said no more parties,” he had rebuttaled. 

“No more parties,” she sang, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she sat across from him at the librarian’s counter. “This is to the bar. Not a party.” 

He should have known better to read the fine print when making deals with Mel Medarda. Alas, he went anyway. For her. And also for Jayce. 

Sevika speaks up for the first time that night. “Your friend – is she a boxer?”

She, too, didn’t seem all the most interested coming out tonight with others besides Mel. Neither did she seem inclined to converse with them, just observing, although this event was for them to meet the woman in person for the first time. Which makes Jayce and Viktor honorary friends.

“Mixed martial arts, actually.” Jayce nods.

Sevika nods. Then silence. She doesn’t ask any more questions. So much for making conversation. 

Mel must have noticed the conversation dying out, as it has been for a while, so she slaps her hands on the table top. The liquid in each of the semi-full glasses ripples in her wake as she shoots up from the booth. 

“Okay, that’s it. Less talking, more dancing.” She pans a hand over to her partner. “Care to join me, Sev?”

Sevika nods. Wow, she’s really not much of a talker. Or maybe it’s Jayce and Viktor that are terrible at making conversation. 

Viktor manages to wiggle his foot out of Jayce's grip and drops it before they start weaving through the booth to free themselves of the confines. When they both make it on the other side, Mel pivots back to the two still sitting in the booth and sticks her finger out at them, waving between the two.

“See you both out there soon, right?” She looks back, a brow raised with her striking green eyes pining them both down. It sounds more like a statement than a question. 

“Very soon,” Viktor says, giving a small wink and a nod. Although Mel knows it might not be as soon as she’s expecting.

She gives one more passing glance to Jayce, a stern reminder that her statement includes him, too. He nods, flashing her a thumbs up before she hums in satisfaction. Then, hand in hand, she and Sevika head toward the center of the crowded dance floor. Viktor watches them weed through the people and disappear from his field of vision. He whips his head to Jayce, whose eyes are wide, emotions unrecognizable.

“Careful next time,” he hisses across the table. “You know I need at least one working leg, foot included.”

Jayce’s expression softens almost immediately. “Sorry. Did I grab you too hard?”

“No.” Viktor smirks, a humorous glint sparkling in his eyes in the dim lighting. “Are you too hard?” 

Jayce’s eyes roll. He leans back against the cushion of the booth and folds his arms over his chest. “Ha ha. Very classy.”

Viktor copies his position, his feet extending across the table so that their legs are crossed over one another. He can feel the heat of Jayce’s leg pressing against his. “So, are you done pretending I don’t exist?”

He sighs, reaching a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinching. Remorse, or shame, or some awful-sounding noise drowns in his voice. Something genuine, something real. 

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s just we’ve never hung out outside of… you know.” He drops his hand back to the crook of his folded elbow. “So if we look like we’re suddenly best friends, it will also look like something is up between us.”

“Because something is up.” Viktor raises a brow. “Are you afraid that your past friends-with-benefits is going to be upset that you have a new friends-with-benefits?”

“No. Mel and I both know that we sleep with other people. What she doesn’t know is that–”

“It’s a man,” Viktor interrupts. “And it’s me.”

Jayce’s lips fold into a thin line, his eyebrows rising with a particularly soft look — one targeted toward Viktor. “Yeah.” 

He feels bad, at least. Bad, or he feels embarrassed to be around him, and he won’t admit it.

“Do you think she would actually care about that? She knows I’m…” Viktor gestures a hand up and down at himself, insinuating the gay part. He expects, or rather assumes, Jayce wouldn’t be too inclined to say it out loud himself.

“I’m not,” Jayce announces, like a god damn broken record.

Right. Duly noted. Just another reminder.

Viktor doesn’t say anything, just makes some careless expression that reminds Jayce, too, that he knows this. He fills the silent void between them, despite the loudness of the bar, by taking a lengthy sip of his drink. Jayce, in the middle of this, can’t seem to feel satisfied until he asks:

“Are we friends, Viktor?”

Hm. Friends.

Viktor swallows his sip. “Sure, we are friends. Weirdly enough. Why? Are we not considered friends in your book?”

Because I want us to be more than friends. More than whatever this is. 

And yes, it surprises Viktor to even think this. Where is this coming from? He’s usually fine with not being friends with any of his sexual partners, no matter how attractive they are. He’s used to a quick fuck and dump, usually the dumping coming from his end, so he doesn’t have to worry about facing repercussions. It’s easier that way.

But thinking this, speaking it into the universe, it doesn’t make a single thing easier. And he knows this. He knows this so well, has felt the consequences of friends and anything in between, or more than what this is. So he refuses to say anything else. In hopes that so long as he doesn’t manifest it, it can’t harm him.

Jayce fumbles, answering the question he asked so poorly. Credits for answering; minus points for the lack of believability in his own words. “Y-yeah, no. Yeah, we’re friends. We are, I just… you know.”

“I know.” He nods. Does he, though? He solidifies his answer, anyway. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry.” Jayce leans forward, resting his forearms on the table in front of him.

“What for?”

“For making you feel like we’re not friends. ‘Cause we are.” Which, frankly, wasn’t the issue in the first place. Jayce’s eyes soften again, this time into something more intimate. Something he’d see in the bedroom. It throws him off. “We’re just a special type of friends. And I, surprisingly, don’t have a lot of guy friends to gauge how normal to be about this, I guess.”

Viktor laughs out loud, in very poor timing. “Jayce Talis, who seems to be friends with half of the university’s population—”

“They don’t really know me like you do,” he says quickly. His voice drops, and despite the volume of the bustling bar room, it feels like Jayce is whispering it right in Viktor’s ear. “They don’t get me like you do.”

Viktor stares at the man across from him for a few solid moments. He leans forward, mocking the same position the other is in. He looks up to him now, into his hooded eyes. Jayce’s frame is poised, unbelievably tall in the booth due to his impeccable posture, and Viktor feels himself slowly crumbling under his resolve. 

“It is because I… understand you,” he answers quietly, a small smile pulling on his lips. A smile not of that sharp sarcasm he wears as armor, but of sincerity. “Probably more than you know.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, soft – so soft, it’s almost pathetic, “yeah. You probably do.”

“Jayce! Viktor!”

Mel appears out of thin air. Her hands slam on the table top, rattling their half-empty drinks. She looks between them, an exhausted, but glittering look in her eyes as she has likely just come back from sweating her heart out from dancing, or suffering from the suffocation of the crowded floor. 

“Now would likely be the best time for you two to come out to dance,” she announces, almost out of breath. “I convinced the DJ to play Maneater by Nelly. You know, my favorite.” Mel bats her eyelashes as her eyes slide over to Viktor first, staring him down as she waits for his answer. 

Viktor’s eyes grow wide when he realizes why exactly she’s looking at him. “Oh! Oh, I appreciate the offer, but you know how it is — my leg,” he blows raspberries, “all cramped up right now.” 

He reaches down to rub the tender spot of his calf where it normally would be in excruciating pain, but it seems the painkillers he took this morning have lasted longer than they would have any other day. Oh, the irony.

“Oh, you little– okay, fine. You have a valid excuse because I respect your autonomy.” She swats her hand to dismiss him. “Jayce, you come out then. You know how much I love this song.”

Jayce, without hesitation, points his thumb over to Viktor. “I don’t want to leave Viktor alone.”

Great job, Jayce. What happened to not letting her know? He’s practically hinting at the fact that they’ve had each other’s cocks in their mouths. 

Her shoulders slump. “You guys are looking really lame in front of Sevika right now.”

Both men look over Mel’s shoulder to see if they are even within Sevika’s field of view. They find her off to the side of the crowd, eyes scanning across the dance floor. She’s just waiting for Mel to get back. Viktor doesn’t think she really cares too much about him and Jayce, but… 

Mel huffs, her head cocking to the side in frustration. “Jayce.”

Jayce puts his hands up in defense. “I will come out if Viktor comes out. Leave no man behind. Remember that?” He wags a finger at her. “That’s what you used to say when we would go out.”

Mel then whips her head from Jayce to Viktor, and her brilliant green eyes grow a size or two. 

Oh no. No. He’s seen this look from her plenty of times before. Like that time in the library when she convinced him to go to that party back in July. In the slight discomfort of his own job! And now she’s got him cornered in this booth.

“Oh, put those eyes away. I’m not falling for it this time,” he grumbles, though not as begrudgingly as he anticipated. 

From across the table, a set of bright hazel eyes are also pinning him down.

Viktor tsks at Jayce. “You too? Ridiculous!”

Mel tilts her head to the side, and her glossy bottom lip juts out.

He throws his head back and slams a hand on the table. “You two are the worst,” he groans, and finally, “Fine, fine, fine. I will shuffle out there in my own misery.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Mel begins sliding away from the table while pretending to lasso both Jayce and Viktor out of the booth and drag them onto the dance floor. She chants her celebration as she backs away, a smile pulled across her face. When she’s disappeared back into the crowd, Viktor whips his head to Jayce.

“Can’t believe you convinced me out of this booth.”

“Come on.” Jayce gives him a lofty smile. He stands to initiate their eviction from the booth. “It’s for Mel. You know that’s why we're here. I mean, look at her.” He nods his head in her direction.

They both pan over to the woman at the center of the crowd. And from here, she looks absolutely stunning. Happy. Energetic. Free. Shining under the colorful lighting. Right now, she’s swaying side to side with Sevika in front of her. Both their hands are intertwined in front of each other, fingers sliding in and out and back together again in perfect fluidity. Even Viktor knows, just based on her demeanor and from similar experience, Sevika wouldn’t normally dance unless Mel was there with her.

Here, with Mel in her arms, Sevika is moving with her, spinning her in circles, making her smile brighter than ever. It was more than her two lame friends who had their asses stuck to the booth could do for her. Mel has the magnitude to bring out the most authentic version of someone. Viktor would know. 

Maybe that was the thing. With Viktor, his and Mel’s friendship worked as it did because they were opposites of each other. Introvert and extrovert. Calm and energetic. Difficult to get along with and easy to talk to. They were each other’s opposites. And Jayce, he lies right in the middle of that. Viktor has discovered that in what time he’s known Jayce that he’s most comfortable, most himself when he’s not shoved in front of the spotlight, placed on display. Probably why he and Mel work so well together, as do they.

Jayce turns back to him, a small smile tugging on his lips. “You ready to go out there?” 

Viktor sighs heavily, but eventually nods. “Yeah. Just for this song.” 

Together, they finish the very last drop of their drinks, savoring the liberating taste before they sober up enough to realize what they’re doing. Jayce passes Viktor’s cane as he pulls himself out of the booth, lending a hand that he declines when he slides out. 

And now stand in the crowd surrounded by sweating bodies and dim lighting, closer to one another than they had been all night. They give Mel and Sevika enough distance to enjoy each other’s company, while still being close enough for her to talk to them. Smoke and haze and body heat engulf them completely as they rock their head back and forth, tapping their feet, doing whatever slight movements they can to make them look less lame than they did before. This was, unfortunately, their best attempt at dancing.

The song changes, and an uproar comes from the crowd. Maneater by Nelly Furtado, just as Mel has requested. Next thing he knows, Jayce is placing a hand out in his direction, palm up: an offering. 

“What is this?” Viktor looks down at the hand warily, as if it were about to grab him and take him spinning around the dance floor anyway. “I hope you are not planning to twirl me around like Little Miss Twinkle Toes over there.”

Jayce snorts. “No. It’s in case you need it.”

He takes his free hand and shoos it away. It’s his way of showing him he’s fine on his own, and Jayce knows this by now. “I’m fine, Jayce.”

He shrugs, then shoves both hands into the pockets of his dress jeans. “Don’t say I didn’t try to help you out.”

Viktor rolls his eyes. “Such a gentleman.” 

Eyes wander. Jayce hums. Viktor chews on his cheek. They do anything to pass the time as they figure out what to do with their bodies. This is the closest they’ve been within their vicinity without ripping each other's clothes off as of late. It’s almost weird to stand in front of one another without touching in some form. It’s not a requirement, certainly not mandatory, but maybe an ache? As if it feels weird not to be in contact with one another. 

And that’s a revelation for Viktor. He’s never been fond of any of this. Wanting to be touched, wanting to be within his vicinity, wanting to have his attention on him. It is certainly… odd. What’s changed? Or better yet, had he always been this way, just waiting for that part of him to realize it until suddenly Jayce came around?

Viktor hadn’t noticed until now, not until he looked in Jayce’s direction and realized… he’s dancing now. A very small, side-to-side shuffle. But he’s dancing, awkwardly confident and exactly how Jayce would be dancing to a Nelly Furtado song.

He snorts. Loud, and honestly, unexpectedly.

Jayce snaps his gaze over in his direction, as if he wasn’t already waiting for Viktor to catch him. He laughs with not a single care in the world. “What?”

Viktor shakes his head as his eyes trail up and down. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m…” Even Jayce has to think about it. He looks down at the movement in his legs, silly and half-assed, and shrugs. “Dancing. I don’t know.”

“With bugs in your pants?”

“It’s ants in my pants, actually,” he corrects with a pointed stare. Viktor gives him a sarcastic look of surprise. “And hey, I just know how to dance at quinceañeras, and it’s been maybe ten years, so… This is the best you’re getting from me.”

He tilts his head to Jayce, a small, crooked smile pulling on his lips. “Well, I imagine it’s been a while since then, no?”

Jayce hesitates, then shrugs. “I suppose I’ve grown rusty in recent years. But I know I can spin you, if you’d like?”

Viktor laughs, louder than he anticipated. Louder than Jayce had expected. But he smiles with him regardless. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, I don’t see you dancing yet.”

“That is because I can’t.” Viktor holds up his cane as proof. “You know, this fancy stick I bring with me everywhere. It is certainly not for decoration.”

Jayce arches a brow. “What about that shuffle you were hyping up at the table?”

Viktor purses his lips and shakes his head. “Nonexistent.”

Jayce tilts his head in that same pleading manner that Mel did at the table. This time it’s paired with a light-hearted smile. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he says, “Humor me, Vik.”

Viktor’s shoulders drop as he sighs heavily, dreadfully. Alas, he is convinced enough as he rolls his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath and kisses his dignity goodbye as he starts to move his feet to one side, then to the other. And it becomes a simple pattern that he follows. It’s a minuscule thing compared to the dramatic dance moves happening around them. But it’s something, and it makes Jayce laugh, forcing a hand up to cover his mouth as he crosses an arm over his chest. 

Viktor groans as he stops. “I told you. It is horrible.”

“No, no,” his laughter softens into a chuckle as he shakes his hands in front of him, “It’s not that. It’s cute. Like a granny.”

That seems to pull an unfamiliar laughter from Viktor, Jayce soon to join him. They look like two laughing maniacs on the dance floor surrounded by a cluster of unaware people. They’re too wrapped up in themselves. Even Mel and Sevika are much to occupied with each other and the passion between them that they don’t seem to notice the two in the center of the crowd, who just minutes ago didn’t want to even be in the crowd.

Though for a brief moment, Viktor notices that neither of them seems to notice themselves, either. They are so pulled away from their own embarrassment by just being in one another’s company that they don’t seem to care how loud they are or how stupid they look. No one is paying attention to them.

Except for each other. 

When their laughter simmers down, and Jayce finally brushes the hair from over his eyes, he meets Viktor's gaze in the center of it all. Time seems to slow down. It falls into a rhythm of tiny, microscopic seconds that feel like minutes, hours, even. It seems they are the only ones who have defied the physics of time.

And for another moment, a fleeting one, Viktor feels like he belongs here. Like he belongs in this moment with Jayce. Like… being with the real Jayce is a privilege only he is allowed.

“Well,” Jayce interrupts the moment with a small chuckle, “at least we’re not embarrassing her.”

Breaking out of his daze, Viktor glances over to Mel and Sevika. They both find that she, too, has found that sweet spot of unaware bliss that makes moments like this even better. She’s dancing with the purest of energy that neither of them could match. Except for Sevika. She could, she has, and she is. 

“That is true,” he answers softly.

Jayce responds just as quietly. “I don’t think I could ever keep up with her.”

He shrugs, gesturing to his handy cane. “I couldn’t even join her…” 

It looks like she found someone who can.

Moments later, their conversation is dispelled by a force so sudden that it sends Jayce’s front nearly colliding into Viktor. Jayce manages to catch himself before they both go toppling over each other, swiping a hand behind the small of Viktor’s back. It sends an immediate flurry of warmth over his body, like he had just touched the sun and double dipped. Jayce holds him there for a brief moment until he is sure their footing is solidified. 

Jayce gives him a nod, a confirmation to Viktor that they’re okay, that he’s okay. But Viktor, as sheepish as ever because this is the closest they’ve been in public (and not in a public bathroom), his eyes fly down, and he can’t help staring anywhere else besides the peeking collarbone from his button-down shirt. His face feels like a blazing tomato; he must look like one, too. 

It’s as if he hasn’t seen the man’s dick before! Why is he all of a sudden acting like a helpless school boy with a burning crush for his classmate? This is…

Jayce is then standing up straight and spinning around with the same speed they nearly fell with before Viktor can address anything.

A loud, feminine voice yelps as soon as Jayce turns. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

Jayce’s frame shrinks a size or two, that brooding intimidation disappearing almost immediately at the sight of the girl in front of him. “Oh,” he says softly, kindly, “That’s okay. We’re okay."

Wait a minute. Is it okay? Are they okay? Because just a moment ago, they were about to land on top of each other right there in the center of the dance floor, and Viktor was sure to say goodbye to both legs in that moment. 

The girl’s hands shoot out, shaking frantically. Her voice is shrilly, but certainly slurred. “Ugh, I am just such a clutz!”

Surely, this is a regular occurrence for her if she has to make an announcement as exuberant as this one.

Viktor is expecting the conversation to die down, for them to say goodbye and move on. But Jayce continues to converse anyway, despite Viktor standing right behind him. 

“Hey, it’s not a problem, really. Are you okay? I mean, are you sure your feet are going to be okay in those heels?”

It’s not that he cared that Jayce was making friendly small talk. Hell, he’s great at it. Better than Viktor could ever be. But by the sound of it, his small talk was turning into big talk. Who cares who Jayce talks to? It’s not like they’re in any way exclusive. Jayce could spend hours talking to a trash can, and Viktor’s world would still rotate on time every day.

“Oh my god!” Really? Again? Nobody is going to answer her the second time around, either. “They look so tacky, don’t they? I told my friends I wasn’t going to wear them, but they convinced me, anyway.”

“No, no. I think they look great,” Jayce stammers, a hand coming to cup the back of his neck. “They match your dress, too.” 

Okay, this is Viktor’s cue to leave. They’re moments from them swapping names, but he doesn’t stay long enough to hear it. It couldn’t matter less to him. All it is is his new excuse to vacate the dance floor like he had wanted to do since the very beginning.

He manages to make it through the crowd the same way they came without getting trampled or tripped. He tries for their original table, but that seems to have already been claimed by a new group. So he pivots directions. If he can’t sit right now, he’ll find a spot where he can get the fastest drink. Then, he’ll sit. He heads to the bar, managing to find a spot that had opened up right in the center. He snags it before anyone else can.

It’s an immediate relief to sit down. Not just on his legs, but facing away from the dance floor. He doesn’t have to see Jayce and his horrible flirting and kind gestures and… Viktor dares himself to take a peek over his shoulder. At the moment, Jayce has long forgotten about him and is now tangled up with introducing himself to that random girl and her friends, only for the girl to snake her arm around his neck and—

Viktor turns back around and scoffs, unashamed. The bartender comes back just in time for him to order a drink and patiently wait to drown himself due to sheer embarrassment. For both himself and Jayce.

Whatever. It’s honestly not a big deal. Jayce is a free-willed individual. He’s allowed to talk to people, dance with people, and be disgustingly cutesy with them. And it doesn’t have to be with Viktor, either. 

But maybe it’s the fact that he was all talk at the table, preaching about friendship and understanding one another when clearly Viktor doesn’t seem to understand him one bit. Sometimes he feels as though he is just as confused as Jayce is.

Who is Jayce, beyond the walls of his comfort? Who is he when he has nowhere to hide? 

Again, whatever. It’s not Viktor’s problem to help Jayce discover his long-lost identity that he’s been searching for. Lingering at his side like someone who’s begging to get in his pants is not going to be his look tonight. Jayce might be a good fuck, but Viktor refuses to look desperate.

The bartender slides by with his long-awaited martini glass. Finally. Viktor raises his hand to flag him down, but before he can grab the drink—

“Right here,” the man next to him claims it before he can.

Viktor watches as he trades the bartender cash for the drink, letting him keep the tip, which, by the looks of it, was a hefty amount to have given away. Oh… 

The man glances in his direction from his interception. Shit. He needs to pay more attention to what’s happening in front of him instead of the half-drunk, mindless Jayce in the center of the dance floor, who’s now got an army of Barbie dolls giggling and crowding around him.

“Sorry,” Viktor says softly, shaking his head, “I thought it was mine.”

“It’s all good,” the man next to him turns from facing the bar, martini glass in hand. He leans his back on the edge of the bartop, slightly facing Viktor’s direction. Potentially an opening to start a conversation? “I’m assuming you got the same thing?” 

Bingo. 

Viktor nods. His eyes find the bartender again, watching as he gathers the ingredients from the countertop to make the second Dirty Martini. He doesn’t notice that the first glass has been set back down and now passed in his direction. It looks just as it came, untouched. Viktor looks at the swirling cream and brown liquid, then to the man who had just slid it in front of him.

“Another will come soon enough,” is all he says. He shrugs, gesturing it an inch forward. “You look like you need it more than me.”

Viktor doesn’t know whether to be offended or to just accept it. He opts for the latter, grabbing the glass by the stem and taking two hefty swallows. It’s just what he needed — a little distraction in the form of a bitter drink. He sets the glass back down and licks his lips. He glances over at the man next to him briefly, eyes narrowing.

“Is it really that obvious?” 

“Eh, I like to think I can read people pretty well,” he announces, almost arrogantly. 

But Viktor is used to that at this point. The asshole confidence that usually comes from guys at bars. He gives the man a questioning look, opening the floor for him to explain. 

“You’re probably here with your friends. You really didn’t want to come out tonight, but you also didn’t want to be the only one out of the friend group that stayed home, so you came anyway. During the night, you ran into an ex. It was probably recent. Running into them was fine at first, but it went south fast. Really fast. So now you’re here, looking for some alone time at the bar full of strangers, who are also here for the same thing.”

Viktor snorts, and it’s neither rude nor pitiful, but actually humorous for how badly he failed. “No, actually. Not even close.”

The man sighs, a bit dramatic, but with a playfulness to find good company from. “I should give up then, huh?” 

He nods. “Save your time. Find a new profession.”

The man laughs. Thankfully, he laughs, because Viktor’s humor only ever reaches a certain audience, and even then, it’s tricky because it can either be taken as condescending sarcasm or just him sounding like a straight asshole. But not now, not with him. 

“Okay, then, why are you here?”

Viktor entertains him for the time being. What else is he to do? “My best friend wanted me to meet her new girlfriend.” 

The guy rocks his head side to side. “That’s one reason. Then who was the guy you were with?” He nods to the crowd, and Viktor knows exactly who he’s talking about. 

“Her friend,” he scoffs. 

Though he didn’t intend for it to be as harsh as it came out. Other frustrations are bleeding into his voice, nothing really that has to do with being abandoned by Jayce, per se, but something deeper. More underlying than what he’s willing to hash out. He’s not nearly drunk enough to, at least.

“And I’m guessing that’s the other reason?”

Yep. Exactly that. 

Viktor shrugs, rolling his eyes. “Eh, it is… complicated.”

Moments pass before the barstool next to him scrapes against the tile floor. He takes a seat, props an elbow on the marble bartop, sliding a fist on his cheek as he looks back at Viktor with an intrigued gaze. 

“I can handle complicated,” he says, a small smile following his statement. It's a genuine smile, if he’s ever seen one. Or maybe a hopeful one. Hoping that he’ll get laid at the end of his heroic sacrifice for listening to Viktor talk about his long-term complicated situationship. 

Viktor brushes him off with a wave of a hand. He shakes his head. “I would prefer to talk about something else.”

The man tilts his head further into his hand. “Well, we can start with your name?”

His name. What is this, a date? 

Usually, he doesn’t even get to the name part of this… interaction (if it’s as predictable as he thinks), nor does he ever entertain talking about his complications with a stranger. This is certainly different from his usual interactions. As it was with Jayce. 

But Jayce… he’s a different story on its own. A whole different book, even. One that Viktor has barely been able to dissect.

Maybe he’s trying too hard to find the answer when it is right there, etched into the words on the paper. Nothing hidden between the lines. Maybe he’s been searching for something much deeper within this story, only for it to be as simple as it is. That maybe, just maybe, Viktor is thinking about it too fucking hard for what it actually is — nothing more than a mutually beneficial transaction for both of them. 

Viktor decides that tonight, he can put that book down. Lay it to rest until it comes calling for him again late at night in a perfectly punctuated text. He’s already beginning to predict the ending to it, anyway.

A new, brimming martini glass is passed toward the other man. Again, he takes out his wallet and pays for that drink too, leaving behind a generous tip without hesitation. Viktor’s mouth quirks slightly as he watches the other turn to him and raise his glass in the air. For them, for each other.

“Sure,” Viktor says, raising his glass to meet the other, “It’s Viktor.”

Three drinks in, and Viktor hasn’t thought once about Jayce.

He’s spent the last hour or so talking with… what was his name again? Fuck. Something with a D? Oh well.

Viktor listened more than anything (obviously not that well to have forgotten his name). Listened to the man talk about his big boy job, consultant at some solar tech company that brings in pretty big bills, about his latest project car that he usually spends all weekend on, about his hobbies of golf and swimming that he does besides the car, and about anything that he could think of while they finished drink after drink at the bar. 

Viktor didn’t bother sharing as much. He didn’t mind the conversation, or the way his lips moved when he talked, and the way he subtly bragged about his job, but at this point… he was enough drinks in to not care about anything but finding that little pick-me-up in the crowd. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to search that far because he’s right here, paying for his drinks and laughing at all of the poor jokes he makes.

Maybe Solar Tech guy wants the same thing. Maybe he understands Viktor’s opposition to anything complicated. Maybe he’s willing to fill that void for now, and Viktor’s ready to accept it.

Ha, maybe.

He’s facing the dance floor as the man next to him talks to him about his latest golf trip with his friends. Viktor doesn’t know the first thing about golf, but by now he’s tuning in and out anyway. Preoccupied, still watching all of the people on the dance floor grind and grip on each other like their lives depended on it. 

To him, it’s humiliating. He’s always been the type to keep his sexual intentions behind closed doors, even if he likes to tease the hell out of Jayce when they’re in public. But he doesn’t understand dancing so provocatively in front of people like that. Or maybe it’s that he can’t. He’ll be the one embarrassing himself, and everyone else who’s able to do it is just embarrassing themselves, too. 

But the one person who isn’t embarrassing themselves right now, surprisingly enough, is Jayce. 

He stands to the side of these girls that he’s just made acquaintances with, smiling with those pretty white teeth of his, his eyes crinkled. He’s not dancing, but he’s also not stagnant. He’s kind of swaying side to side, loose and carefree. It could be the lighting or that he’s had a few to drink. He can see it in the rosiness of his face and the fluidity of his movements. Yeah, he’s definitely had a few more to drink, Viktor thinks. 

And then he’s looking in Viktor’s direction. Not quite looking at him, but in the general area. Seeking, searching for someone. Mel, probably. A peer, just as likely. But no. His eyes land on Viktor, at least he hopes, because it feels as though he has, and his body suddenly feels like it’s turning up a few degrees. The song shifts, and the crowd seems to ease into it smoothly like honey. It slows down, as does time for another time that night, as do Jayce and Viktor. 

And this time, Viktor savors it for as long as he can, until it speeds back up again and it’s just… gone. 

Jayce is staring right at Viktor. That sweet smile has faded into something softer, yet stronger. It’s morphed from a smile of laughter into one of a particular fondness that belongs to Viktor. And only him. Because he’s seen that smile before. In the bedroom. During their nine and a half minutes. In fleeting moments when they’re together, but not alone. Something he’s begun to claim as his own. 

And there stands a Jayce not clouded by judgment or insecurities. A Jayce with no worries. A Jayce that is just as he is—his Jayce. 

Viktor hears a sound in the distance, and he hums to something, to someone, not sure if it was an agreement of some sort or the lack thereof. Then, there’s a hand on his shoulder, and the man from earlier, Solar Tech guy, leans in and whispers against the shell of his ear.

“Gonna head to the bathroom,” the man mumbles, and it sends a warm rush down his neck. “Will I… see you in a bit?”

Viktor pulls back, meeting the man’s eyes. “Okay,” he answers, followed by a soft nod, and then smiles briefly before he turns away from the stool and veers to the right, toward the bathroom. 

As soon as he’s gone, his eyes flash back to Jayce. And he watches him like he hasn’t got a single other thing to watch in this building. He’ll blame his lingering gaze on the drinks, and the pang in his chest when he watches Jayce wrap a hand around that girl’s waist on the drinks as well. 

Before he realizes it, Mel has come from the depths of the crowd and is slinking her way over to the open stool next to him. She sashays cat-like, turns around, and hops onto the cushion. She leans over, snuggles in close to Viktor without a second thought for boundaries. She rests her head on his shoulder to look out amongst the crowd with him, though her gaze is fixed on the entire club, and not just the giant standing in the middle of it.

Her baby hairs are curled and matted to her forehead as sweat glistens on her rich brown skin. He smiles at her, a weak thing, but still as sweet as ever for her.  

“Tired from dancing yet?” he asks. A giggle comes from below and reverberates against his shoulder.

“Nope.” She grins tiredly, yet happily. “I got my dancing shoes on. A couple more drinks in me, and I can go all night, baby.”

He chuckles, “I’m sure you can.” And there’s no doubt about it.

She hums, waiting a few moments before she asks softly, curiously, “Why aren’t you with Jayce?”

Right. The same one who got dragged away by a bunch of girls just for flashing those pretty whites and saying hi. It’s not like Viktor was the one doing the ditching.

Viktor scoffs. “Am I supposed to be babysitting him?”

“No,” Mel says, a bit surprised. She mutters slightly, “I just thought you guys would want to hang out since I’m with Sevika. You know, like bros.” She says with a masculine tone, likely mocking Jayce. Sounds like something he’d say and sound lame for it.

“We are,” he answers quickly. His voice immediately softens as he shakes the frustration out of his voice. “I mean, we were. We just got a bit distracted with other matters at the moment, is all.”

Mel’s lashes flutter upward, looking at Viktor with a sly smile, pulling on her pretty mauve lips. “With that cute guy?”

Viktor shrugs. Though the smile that creeps onto his face is unavoidable. Way to be subtle.

Her lip twisted after another brief pause. “What about Jayce?”

This again? Why is the an immediate correlation with him? He’s his own person. Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he has to be attracted to the first other male to show him affection. Doesn’t she know this? 

“What about him?” The frustration in his voice seeps back in, undeniable.

Mel raises her head, staring at him with narrowed brows. “I mean, you like him, don’t you? Is that a thing, or am I just shooting in the dark?”

Viktor laughs, loud and sharp. Louder than he would have been sober. And it’s hard to tell if it’s solely from her assumption or if it’s because she’s partially right. (Keyword: partially. He is still deciding for himself.) “You are a dancer and a comedian tonight? An ace of all trades.”

Mel tilts her head to the side. “Jack,” is all she says.

Viktor looks out to the crowd again, avoiding her stare. “His name is Jayce,” he mutters.

“No. It’s a jack of all trades, babe.” Viktor mocks her words, only ever playfully (she knows this), but he stops in his tracks when she starts to say, “And you know you don’t have to act like that with me. You know that, right?”

He glances in her direction, a particular softness growing on his features. “Like what?” 

“Avoidant. Closed off. Brooding.” She gestures her hand to him, to his brooding posture, and the brooding look on his face. She crosses her arms, almost as if to give herself more comfort. “Vik, you can tell me things. You’re my best friend. I want to feel like I’m yours, too.”

That seems to hit Viktor right in the gut. It was never his intention to make her feel otherwise; it’s just something that he’s trained himself to take to the grave, to hold things in. It’s what he does. It saves him from his own embarrassment and manifesting, even if his worst fears come true. 

“You are, Mel. It’s just…” What is it that’s stopping him from sharing any of this? Fear of rejection, disownment? He’s already experienced these things, but for some reason, when it comes to Jayce, it’s different. Oddly, and frighteningly different. “Jayce is… straight. I don’t like straight men.”

“But you like Jayce.” He's moment from correcting her again when she raises her hands in defense. “Yeah, I know, I know. You don’t like straight men. But maybe,” she takes one of her raised hands and waves toward Viktor’s chest, “somewhere deep in there, you like Jayce. I mean, he’s Jayce. Not to put him on a pedestal or anything, but he’s one of the few people who makes me feel… important. Noticed. Even with all the people here. I’m just saying, he’s a great guy to keep around.”

“Yes, a spectacular man.” Even though he completely abandoned him out there on the dance floor. Though Viktor doesn’t have the energy or heart, really, to back up his sarcasm. “What was the whole plan with Jayce, then? Just sleep with him until Sevika becomes available for you.”

“For one, it just kind of happened.” Mel shrugs, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I think we just have a friendship that makes us feel comfortable with one another. And the biggest thing was that we both felt good from it. I finally felt like I could have the things, desire the things I wanted, and not suffer from it, you know?”

Viktor’s gaze drifts off. To want, to desire, and not feel remorse for things that make you feel good. Sure, what a nice thought. That seems to be his problem, though. He’s always felt guilty for the things that made him feel good. And now that he’s ready to finally abandon that god-awful guilt, he’s stuck at the part where he has to fight to keep it around, to hold on to it while he can.

But at least he doesn’t need to feel guilty about it, even if it’s fleeting.

“We’re not sleeping together anymore,” she says.

Viktor rips his gaze from the floor, and it lands on Mel. “What?”

“Me and Jayce,” her voice softens, “I haven’t told him yet, but Sevika wants to be exclusive now,” she says this with a smile, with beautiful pride. 

Viktor is happy for her, for them. And he tries his best to show it, but this means two things for him, too, right now. She’s ending things with Jayce, and that’s fine; it really is. But then Jayce will either end things with him as well now that he has nothing to honor their experiment for (despite how pitiful the whole thing was to begin with). Their theory could be put to rest if they so please. If Jayce so pleases. This is exactly what he imagined would happen. He had already prepared himself for this.

Or maybe, he might keep things going. He won’t cut them off from the one thing they enjoy doing right now. And if he does keep this going, it might mean something to him, something more. To Jayce. It’ll be more than just testing a theory. More than a ploy to test his sexuality. 

Or maybe they’re not just sleeping with a friend.

He smiles and looks over to her with a soft look in his eyes. Happiness grows in his chest for his friend. “I hope things work out for you, Mel.”

“Thank you, Vik. You big softie.” 

She lightly bumps her arm against his. Then, she hugs him, throwing her arms around his frame and laying her head back on his shoulder. She squeezes him, hard and close, but he can feel the love radiating from her like a furnace. He brings his hands to her arms and cups them, feeling how clammy and warm they are, despite the cool down she’s taken.

“You are so sweaty,” he utters quietly, his eyes sliding to her. 

She groans, making a long, exaggerated sound. It dwindles into a playful giggle as she rubs her arms like she’s smearing it over him. “It’s just all my love soaking onto you.”

“Truly disgusting,” but he says it with a smile on his face. He really is a big softie.

Together, they look out amongst the crowd again, and sure enough, Jayce is there in his field of view. He stands tall enough to poke out from the crowd, like always. Except, instead of hanging around like he was before, he’s broken out into a dance. Much more than the quinceañeras dancing he was trying to do earlier, apparently.

Oh, he is dancing so terribly. 

“Oh goodness,” Mel whispers, as if she couldn’t keep it inside anymore. 

“Goodness, indeed,” Viktor answers with a snort. “It is like bugs are in his pants.”

“Ants, Vik. It’s ants.”

He groans, loud and dramatic. “You Piltovians never let me win.”

Minutes pass as they stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s endearing arms and watching all of these strangers dance around like no tomorrow. Except they can’t forget about Jayce in the center of it all.

“Hey, Viktor,” Mel murmurs up to him, soft as ever.

“Yes?”

Mel pulls back from his shoulder to look at him, her eyes meeting his. She opens her mouth to speak, but a whistle comes from behind. They both look behind her to find that Sevika had returned from the bathroom with a hand out, a welcome back into her arms, and into the dancing crowd again for Mel. Viktor looks at the group that’s exploding on the floor, which happens to be even more people than before. He knows he is not making it back in there, even if he wanted to. 

Mel places a hand on Viktor’s arm, drawing him back to their conversation. She stands from the stool she once occupied, and her eyes soften as she gently rubs the spot she holds. “Just… have fun, okay?” 

He nods, mouthing a soft “okay” before she turns away and heads over toward Sevika. Reunited in her arms, she smiles and cuddles in close to her partner as they turn back toward the floor. Before they disappear, though, Sevika gives Viktor a subtle nod, an acknowledgement, probably the first one of the night, but he doesn’t mind. He simply nods back and watches as the two vanish into the sea of people for good.

Viktor leans back in his seat again and sighs. Now that he’s alone, and he’s noticed how long Solar Tech guy has been gone, it feels like a good time to leave, despite Mel’s parting message. He’s had enough fun, and the person he was having the fun with is no longer available and hasn’t been for a while. Even if he wanted to keep going for the night. 

He turns back to his drink, takes his last sip, and leaves a good tip underneath his cup before grabbing his cane and slipping away from the bar. Viktor manages to slip through the exit, past the bouncers guarding the exit, and the group of girls huddle behind them waiting for their own ride. He finds his way onto the sidewalk and begins down the path. The night air is cool, surprisingly. Summer hasn’t been too unbearable, and when nights start to cool down, Viktor knows fall is just around the corner. 

He only makes it a few paces away before he hears the door behind him abruptly swing open. He turns back to the sound, and there Jayce is, tripping over his own feet down the steps to get to the sidewalk. 

Great. Way to finish out the night.

Jayce stumbles his way up to Viktor, stopping just before he’s about to topple over him with a smile. 

“Hey,” he breathes, so heavily. It’s laced with the particularly strong scent of alcohol. “Where, uh, where are you going?”

“Home,” Viktor mutters as he stares up at him. “Where are you going? What happened to playing pretend with Barbie?” 

Jayce laughs weakly at his joke, a breathless thing. “Well, I wanted to come with you.”

Viktor arches a brow. “To my place?”

“No,” he draws out the O, “to my own place. But I just wanted to watch you make it home first. Not trying to be creepy. I just want to make sure you get there safely.”

“Well, my knight in shining armor,” he says with a sarcastic flutter of his eyes, “I will be fine. You, on the other hand…” He traces his uncoordinated figure up and down. Jayce is… undeniably close to wasted. His shirt is rumpled, his hair tousled, his cheeks bright and red, and his eyes are heavily hooded. He’s even leaning to one side like the Tower of Pisa. He’s certainly not getting behind the wheel tonight, and neither was Viktor. Looks like it’s Uber for both of them. 

Viktor pivots in the direction of the sidewalk, heading away from the bar without giving it a second look. “We were only separated for a little bit. How much have you had to drink?”

Jayce catches up with Viktor. “That girl, uhm, Barbie,” he chuckles to himself at the reuse of his joke, “she wanted me to take shots with her and her friends. And I did. And then they wanted to get drinks, too, so I did. And then… yeah.”

Viktor nods, rolling his eyes as he continues down the sidewalk, Jayce close in tow. They’re walking side by side at Viktor’s pace as they look for an open spot to sit down along the way to wait for an Uber. At least, that’s what Viktor’s doing as Jayce happily tags along. He’s keeping his pace with Viktor, clumsily walking along the sidewalk and smiling to himself. 

He said that the first time they had first had sex, he was drunk. He must have been over exaggerating because Viktor doesn’t remember seeing him like this when they were going down on each other in the bathroom. And he certainly doesn’t think that if Jayce were sober, he would be putting his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, sliding it from the one closest to him, over the nape of his neck where his baby hairs rest, and curling it on the ball of his other shoulder. It sends an immediate flurry of warmth from his body, even as the cool summer breeze dances between them. 

Then his shoulder is being tipped down, and gravity begins increasing tenfold on Jayce. 

Viktor throws a hand around Jayce’s waist, fingers clenching around his side for stability. “Don’t lean all your weight on me, you drunk fool.”

Jayce lets out a sharp yelp, jerking to the side when Viktor grabs him, then he giggles. He fucking giggles. Oh dear gods above, save him now.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jayce says frantically. He lessens the weight on one side, but starts to lean to the other side, taking Viktor with him. 

“And don’t you dare fall, or we’ll both go down.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jayce insists. He stops in place to prove it, causing Viktor to stop as well. He breathes. He looks at him with a calm smile. He hums lowly, “See? Perfectly fine.”

Viktor stares at him for a few passing moments before he rolls his eyes and continues walking ahead. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

He can hear from behind him, “Wait, Vik! I’m serious!” 

“I know,” he shouts back, still facing forward, “That’s why I said I’m sure.”

Then Jayce speedwalks to catch up to him, his breath audible as he gets closer. “Hey. Look at me,” he pleads so pathetically. When Viktor doesn’t respond, he whines, “Look at meeeee.”

Viktor is stopped in his path when Jayce grabs his hand. Viktor pivots, ready to pull it away and see just how fine he really is when he turns and is suddenly inches from Jayce’s face. When did he get so close? Jayce's hand comes up into his peripheral, cupping it underneath Viktor’s jaw and holding it in place, like he didn’t want him to leave. Viktor’s eyes grow wide at the sight.

His breath shudders as he murmurs, “Jayce.”

Jayce smiles, then exhales softly at the sound of his name. “Viktor.”

Before anything else can be said, Viktor pulls his hand away, stepping back. He clears his throat and uses his cane to point to the curb. “Sit down here. I’ll have the Uber pick you up here.”

Jayce doesn’t put up much of a fight, nor think twice about what just happened as he plops down on the red-painted curb. 

Viktor stands behind him, pulling out his phone and opening the Uber app. First, he’ll order one for Jayce. Get him home and out of here before he can fluster Viktor even more than he already has. Then he’ll order his own and be done for the night, and hopefully, this will be the last time he has to go out for a social event for… forever. He’s done his time and served his sentence. He deserves a break from drowning in social settings from now on.

Viktor types in all the information needed to book the ride, and looks the other way when he has to send the payment through to confirm because, unfortunately, prices for rideshare in Piltover hurt, especially in the city. But when it all goes through and he gets the checkmark of approval, he checks for the time of arrival.

Nine minutes. How ironic. 

“Your chariot has been booked,” he mumbles from above.

Jayce looks up from the gutter and over to Viktor, hooded eyes meeting his. “Are you going to wait with me here?”

He clicks his phone off and shoves it in his pocket. “Yes, why?”

Jayce looks back down sheepishly, almost like a petulant child. “Because I thought you were, I don’t know, mad at me, I guess.”

Was Viktor mad? He didn’t think mad would be the best way to describe it. No, it was a limbo between being upset in a gut-churning way and jealousy in a way that he shouldn’t be? No, not jealous, because jealousy was childish and not very friendly. He wouldn't say he was jealous.

He was just… confused at this point. Confused as to why Jayce all of a sudden cares for him now that he’s not in the direct eye of the public. Hence, the complicated part of what was supposed to be their uncomplicated situation.

“Why does it matter?” Again, the questions sound like he is mad, but he isn’t. 

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he murmurs, almost child-like.

Viktor huffs, leaning on his cane further. He kicks a stray rock from the sidewalk into the gutter, landing near Jayce’s fancy dancing shoes he chose for tonight. “Well, I’m not, so…”

“Then, can you sit next to me?” He turns his head, squinting up at Viktor. “And stop brooding?”

Brooding? He’s not–

Well, okay. Maybe he is brooding… just a little bit. 

He sighs, using his cane and Jayce’s shoulder to lower himself to the ground. It’s the one time he’ll ever let him help, and Jayce does it with honor. When he’s down, finally off his leg again now that the pain medication from earlier starts to wear off, he settles into his concrete seat next to Jayce on the curb. Even being a few inches apart, Jayce is warm, incredibly warm. Like a furnace. It’s nice in contrast to the cool air of the summer night.

Jayce breaks the silence between them, still looking down at the rock that Viktor had kicked into the gutter. “Who was that guy you were with?”

Viktor shrugs, not giving it a second thought. “I don’t know. Some guy that I met when ordering a drink.”

“What did he want?”

“I didn’t really get that far.” Viktor glances over at Jayce, an eyebrow quirked. “Why does it matter?”

Jayce continues to stare ahead. “It doesn’t,” he mutters lowly. “I was just… wondering.”

Viktor smirks. “Were you jealous?”

Jayce scoffs. “No. He’s just some guy. I couldn’t care less.”

He huffs a smug laugh, thoroughly intrigued. “You seem like you care a little bit.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

Jayce scoffs again, with even more attitude. Whatever front he was putting up, it wasn’t very strong. “Whatever. Yeah, sure. He looked like an idiot, anyway. With his stupid goatee, and stupid chain, and-and stupid ponytail.”

Viktor gives him a dull look. “Jayce, I also wear my hair in a ponytail.”

Jayce looks at Viktor, then at his hair pulled back into a loose bun behind his head. Hairs spring free from the bottom of the updo look, ones that are too short to be pulled in with the rest. He doesn’t usually pull his hair back, preferring to keep it unbound, but today felt like a good day to keep it off his neck, especially inside the cramped bar.

“Yeah, but I like your hair.” 

Jayce's hand comes up to the back of his neck, this time higher than they had grazed before. His fingers reach for the bottom of his head and gently rake his fingers through the loose hairs resting out of his hair tie. Granted, not inappropriately for being in public, but the thoughts that raced through Viktor’s head because of it were certainly not PG. 

Jayce’s voice drops low, “I like these little curls back here. The ones that don’t quite make it into the hair tie.” When he seems to realize what he’s doing, he takes his hands away and shakes his head. “But I don’t like his. He looks stupid.”

Viktor has to take a few seconds to recuperate from this. But soon enough, he snorts, shaking his head. “Okay. So you’re not jealous, just judgmental.”

Jayce sighs, and it seems like one builds up from frustration. Maybe Viktor went too far with the teasing; he tends to do that sometimes. But if he really did go too far, why is Jayce turning to lean his head on Viktor’s shoulder?

Viktor can’t help freezing in place when he does. Jayce’s head, slightly heavy but nothing compared to the near-trust fall he tried earlier, smells like his shampoo, a strong, earthy wood scent. His hair also tickles his neck, but Viktor is too stiffened to do anything about it.

Why is he so uptight about this? Mel does this all the time to him. Hell, sometimes when she’s feeling extra sappy, she gives him a peck on the cheek and hugs him like they’re an old married couple, nothing big. Besides, Jayce and Viktor have done more than enough to warrant this, but Viktor just doesn’t know how to properly accept it, at least not from Jayce. And certainly not when they’re sitting on the side of the road in the middle of PSU collegetown.

“I think you’re right,” Jayce says, particularly soft, silencing Viktor’s internal thoughts.

Viktor swallows, hoping it isn’t too loud from where Jayce’s head lies. “Right about what?”

“About always giving myself a challenge. Putting myself through obstacles to get what I want.”

This isn’t as out of the ordinary as it may seem. Especially after their conversation at the table. 

Viktor’s voice softens, “What makes you say this?”

“It’s just…” He bites his tongue, holding back his words before he says reluctantly, “I was nice to that girl, but it’s not like I wanted to really hang out with her and her friends. I think she thought I was doing it to get with her. That’s obviously what she wanted, so I kept talking to her. But it’s not what I wanted. The more I talked to her and her friends, the more I wanted it leave. I just got stuck. I just wanted to be… to be with you.”

And it probably didn’t help that Viktor left him alone as soon as he felt uninvited in that moment. He also believes that if Jayce isn’t drunk right now, he’d probably never hear these words, so there’s no point in him saying anything to begin with.

“Why do I do things that I don’t want to do?” Jayce looks up to the sky and asks. Asks the world, asks the universe, asks Viktor in hopes the answer comes barreling from the stars in a revelation. “Why can’t I say no and let myself be happy?”

“Because…” Viktor thinks about it, biting down on his cheek. “Because for you to be happy, it likely means disappointing others in the process.” He says, as if he isn’t answering these questions for himself as well, “And you, Mr. People-Pleaser, cannot fathom doing that.”

Jayce’s head tilts, eyelashes flutter up to Viktor. “Mr. People-Pleaser?”

“You spend too much time worrying about others’ happiness and appeasing them, and not nearly enough time on yourself. You need to learn to forget about everyone else and just do what you want.”

Jayce blows raspberries. “Oh, yeah, sure. Sounds so simple. And how do I do that?” 

Viktor shrugs, moving Jayce along with his shoulder. He answers as bluntly as he can, “Not care about what people think of you.”

“What makes it so easy for you to do it? Do you not care?” He mutters.

“Easy?” Viktor looks down at their legs extending out in front of them. “Not a single part of it was easy. The hardest part was realizing I was different and accepting that I can’t change that.”

“Because you’re gay?”

Viktor looks at his leg, the one tangled up in a brace. Then he looks over to Jayce. He’s already staring up in his direction from on his shoulder, big hazel eyes waiting to hear his answer.

“No,” he says softly, weakly. “Because… I’m me. I’m gay, and disabled, and a foreigner, and I’m… honestly hard to love. I’m not very personable. Not like you, at least.”

It’s quiet for a long moment when Jayce turns his head back down, resting heavily on his shoulder again. Viktor almost feels like he shouldn’t have said anything. Now it just sounds like he’s thrown himself the world's most pitiful party. 

But then Jayce hums, quiet and barely there. “Well, I beg to differ.” There’s a pause before he turns his head to look up at him again. “I like you, Vik. I really like you. Maybe a little too much, but... maybe it can counter it?”

And for a brief moment, it does counter it. It counters everything and anything Viktor has ever felt, opposite to what Jayce said. He will hold on to that moment, that sweet moment in time when things worked out in his favor, for as long as he can. Until it was pried from his fingers in the same moment that Jayce came to the next morning.

“Sure,” he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice that goes unrecognizable. “For now, it can.”

Moments later, Jayce’s Uber pulls up, saving them from any more drunken conversations to be forgotten overnight. The driver calls for Jayce’s name, and he stands to answer it. Jayce helps Viktor up from the ground, clutching hands and arms to pull him up, then reaching for his cane to hand to him. This time, Viktor doesn’t fight him because of it. Just this once.  

Before Jayce climbs into the open car door, he looks back at Viktor. “Thank you for the ride. Text me when you get home safe?”

Jayce is getting the ride home, and he’s being the considerate one? Classic Jayce Talis move.

Viktor nods. “And you do the same.”

Jayce nods in return, then, when he’s run out of things to say or do, he does finger guns. The regret on his face is evident the moment he does it. He pulls himself into the car before he can embarrass himself further, though it was kind of endearing, closes the door, and Viktor watches him leave, all the way until the red lights of the car disappear in the distance. Then he sighs, pulls his phone out, and calls for his own ride home. His fingers dance across the phone before a figure breaks into his peripheral vision.

“Heading home?”

Viktor looks up and over to the man from earlier walking in his direction, hands shoved in his pockets. He nears closer to Viktor and waves a hand out, an asking to join him. Viktor grants it, turning his body to give the man his attention. 

They stand within a quiet distance before Viktor says awkwardly, “Sorry, I didn’t say anything about leaving.”

The man shakes his head. “It’s all good. You had your friends to attend to. Besides, I figured if I was meant to see you again, I would.”

Viktor chuckles, hiking his cane underneath his arm further. He shrugs. “Well?”

“Well?” The man smiles proudly. “I guess I’m good at predicting some things.”

Viktor rocks his head side to side. “Just don’t quit your day job.”

They laugh together, and the sound drifts into the night air. It eases into a comfortable silence now as they stand side by side. 

The man says, “If you’re looking to get out of here, I am too. Maybe we could finish our conversation from earlier at your place?”

Viktor opens his mouth to respond, to probably find a way to weasel out of it, until his phone pings. He looks down at it as the notification appears on his home screen. From Jayce.

Jayce Talis (not gay): Thank you for listening to me tonight

Jayce Talis (not gay): Talking to you makes me feel a little bit normal 

Jayce Talis (not gay): You’re a great friend

Viktor stares down at the message, probably a bit too long to go unnoticed. He scoffs lightly, shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket before turning to the man once more.

The corner of his mouth crooks up, and all of his thoughts from earlier are pushed to the back of his mind. “Let’s go to yours instead.”

Just this once.