Work Text:
Jayce still couldn’t believe all of it was real.
The soft click of Viktor’s apartment door shutting behind them made it feel final, solid, like the end and beginning of something all at once. They had just been to their first proper date. Seven years of working together, of stolen glances and unspoken feelings, of skirting around the inevitable, and now…
Now they were here. Together.
As in… together together.
He let out a slow breath, grinning to himself as he shrugged off his coat, hanging it by the door alongside Viktor’s. The air inside the apartment was warm, cozy, filled with the faint scent of old books, the sharp tang of graphite from some half-finished sketches scattered across the coffee table in the living room, and the lingering traces of burnt incense from the stick Viktor must have lit before he left, now nothing but a curl of fragrant ash on the entryway table.
“...and I swear, Jayce, if he emails me one more time asking for a revision on the same damn proposal I already told him was impractical, I am going to lose my mind.” Viktor continued his rant —the same one he'd been going on about ever since they’d left the restaurant— about Heimerdinger, one of their higher-ups at the company they both worked at. “I have tried everything: simple language, diagrams, an actual demonstration, and somehow, somehow , it is still not getting through his thick skull.” He sighed, his voice sharp with exasperation as he gestured with his free hand. He barely paused for breath as he made his way toward the small table, dropping his keys onto the wooden surface with a soft clink, all while still caught up in his frustration. “It is like talking to a particularly dense brick wall, only the brick wall would probably make fewer demands.”
Jayce huffed a quiet laugh as he toed off his boots. “Well, you know how he is. Heimerdinger is brilliant, but… not exactly the most adaptable. Guy’s been running things the same way for decades. He probably sees any deviation as a personal offense at this point.” Jayce rested against the wall for a moment, crossing his arms loosely as he watched Viktor with an amused expression. “But hey, cut the man some slack, you have a permanent job thanks to him, after all.”
Viktor shot him a dry look as he leaned heavily on his crutch, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair with a sigh. “Yes, yes, I’m aware.” He muttered, waving a hand. “Eternally grateful, forever in debt, etcetera, etcetera. But it’s getting ridiculous. I am starting to suspect he just enjoys watching me suffer. I swear everytime I see his name in my inbox I-”
Jayce smiled absent-mindedly as Viktor kept his enthusiastic ramble. He wasn’t really listening. Not because he didn’t care, but rather due the fact he was completely mesmerized. Viktor was an extremely passionate person once you got to know him, and seeing him like this, in the low glow of his apartment, still half-lit by the city outside, eyes sharp and expressive as he ranted about something so stupidly mundane that clearly infuriated him…
God. Jayce was completely head over heels for him.
“...if I have to sit through one more meeting with him breathing down my neck, I might actually commit murder. Or at least mild corporate sabotage. Honestly-” He must have been staring too obviously, because Viktor suddenly stopped mid-sentence, brow furrowing as he met Jayce’s gaze. “What?”
Jayce just grinned sheepishly. “Nothing.” He said, shaking his head as he stepped closer. “I just… I still can’t believe you’re my boyfriend.”
Viktor rolled his eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile playing at his lips, soft and just a little indulgent. He limped toward Jayce until he was leaning onto his chest, looking up at him with a smirk. “Hm-hm. Okay, loverboy.”
“I mean it!” He replied, wrapping his arms around his partner’s waist with a soft chuckle. “I’m really glad we’ve finally sorted things out… and, well, that we’re…” He shrugged, before finishing with a simple, “here.”
Viktor’s gaze softened while he nibbled at his lower lip, shaking his head as if amused by something unspoken. His free hand traced the line of Jayce’s neck with delicate fingers, and then, he was kissing him.
Jayce sighed into it, tilting his head, his arms stretching around his small frame to pull him even closer. The kiss was sweet, Viktor’s lips still carrying the tart, sugary taste of the lemon pie they had ordered for dessert, the flavor melting against Jayce’s own, leaving him breathless in the soft intensity.
When they pulled apart, Viktor’s lips twitched, his golden eyes narrowing as he reached up, tapping Jayce’s nose lightly with his finger.
“I’m glad too.” He murmured, and then, with a sly glint in his gaze, he gave him a light shove and spun on his heel, his tone turning teasing. “But please, don’t call me boyfriend. We are not fifteen.”
Jayce laughed, warm and breathless, watching as Viktor made his way toward the bedroom. He trailed after him easily, hands slipping behind his back. “Is ‘partner’ better, then?”
Viktor hummed in consideration. “Mmh. You have been calling me partner for years now anyway, so… yes. That will do.”
Jayce grinned, following him into the dim light of his room. “Partners it is.”
Viktor sighed as he stepped into his space, tossing his bag onto the floor with little ceremony, before slowly sinking into the faded green single-seater armchair near the mirror and resting his crutch on the armrest. His shoulders slumped, and his fingers instinctively found the aching spot at the base of his neck, kneading it with practiced but ultimately futile effort.
Across the room, Jayce collapsed onto the bed with a heavy exhale, his body sinking into the mattress as though he’d been waiting for this moment all night. He watched as Viktor rolled his shoulder with a grimace. Jayce's fingers twitched into the bedsheets, eager to help, but he knew better than to offer outright. Instead, he let his eyes follow Viktor’s movements as he reached for the buttons of his shirt, his motions slow and deliberate.
His back brace came into view as the fabric parted, hugging his torso in a way that looked more constricting than supportive. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and scowled, a sharp intake of breath betraying his discomfort.
“That bad?” Jayce asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
Viktor flinched slightly, as if only now remembering Jayce was there. His eyes flickered toward him before he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Just tight.” He mumbled, fingers working at the last buttons.
Jayce watched as Viktor maneuvered the fabric off his shoulders with a kind of careful detachment, every movement calculated to minimize the exposure of his skin. It wasn’t exactly rushed, but it was precise—efficient, even, as if he’d trained himself to do this quickly, to be seen as little as possible.
Jayce tilted his head. “You know you don’t have to do that, right?”
Viktor didn’t even look up. “Do what?”
“Act like you're not allowed to be looked at.”
His hands hesitated for just a fraction of a second before moving to undo the straps of his back brace. “I simply prefer not to be.” His voice was quieter now, more clipped. He muttered something under his breath as he struggled with one of the clasps, his fingers trembling slightly from exertion.
Jayce frowned. He understood why Viktor felt that way. His body had never been kind to him, had given him nothing but pain and exhaustion in return for all the effort he put into keeping it functioning. It made sense that he wasn’t really fond of it.
But Jayce was.
He thought Viktor’s body was beautiful. Every scar, every sharp angle, every mark that spoke of years spent enduring and surviving. Jayce wanted Viktor to see himself the way he did, wanted him to understand that every part of him, every imperfection, was something worth admiring, something worth loving. He knew it was a lot to ask, but he hoped that, somehow, Viktor could begin to believe it.
Without thinking, Jayce pushed himself up from the bed and stood behind the armchair. He reached out, his hands settling gently on Viktor’s shoulders, giving a soft squeeze that made the man let out a low hum. Then, his fingers trailed down, just over the brace’s clasps, silently asking for permission.
Viktor went still. His fingers flexed against the fabric of his shirt before he exhaled sharply through his nose, his hands dropping to his sides in reluctant surrender as he leaned slightly forward to give Jayce better access. His expression was mildly irritated, but there was something else there too—an unspoken understanding, perhaps, or maybe just exhaustion.
Jayce took his time undoing the clasps, careful and steady, feeling the way Viktor’s breath hitched when the brace finally came loose. A quiet, relieved sigh escaped him as he shrugged it off, carelessly letting it fall onto the floor right beside him, as if he was irritated with the object itself.
Jayce barely noticed, though. His attention was drawn to the marks left behind, deep red imprints pressed into Viktor’s skin from where the brace had clung too tightly. Without thinking, his fingers traced the lines, feather-light, following the ridges of irritation and tension.
Viktor stiffened, almost shuddering under the touch. But he didn’t pull away.
It wasn’t the first time Jayce had seen him like this—bare, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with his sharp wit or guarded demeanor. But it was definitely rare, and Jayce intended to savor it. His fingers wandered, tracing the ridges of Viktor’s spine, the curve of his ribs, the faint vertical scar across his back…
He leaned forward, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the nape of his lover’s neck. Then another to his shoulder, lingering as he glanced up, catching Viktor’s reflection in the mirror.
“It’s a shame.” Jayce murmured against his skin. “Because I love looking at you.”
Viktor’s hands curled into loose fists on his lap, his posture a bit rigid. He met Jayce’s gaze in the mirror, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Huh.” Then, after a couple of seconds, he sighed, his shoulders losing a fraction of their tension. “Aren’t you a smooth talker?”
Jayce let out a quiet laugh, his lips brushing the curve of Viktor’s jaw as he kissed him lightly. “I try my best.” Viktor chuckled along with him, rolling his eyes as the weight of his frustration began to lift.
Jayce pressed another slow, lingering kiss to the man’s neck. Viktor let out a sharp exhale, a bit shaky and uneven, as his head tilted just slightly. Encouraged, Jayce brought a hand to his partner’s cheek, cupping it gently, his thumb stroking along the sharp edge of his cheekbone, and he leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously, his eyes fluttering shut as Jayce’s lips continued their slow exploration of his throat.
Despite what it might have looked like, the gesture wasn’t sexual, nor was it meant to be anything beyond a simple act of reverence, of complete adoration. Each touch, each kiss, was worshipful, a silent language between them that spoke more than words ever could. Viktor had always made Jayce soft.
And the best part was, Jayce had the ability to make Viktor even softer in return.
After a moment, Jayce shifted, pulling away and moving to be in front of his seat. He kneeled, settling himself between Viktor’s legs, his own palms sliding up the length of his thighs with deliberate slowness, feeling the warmth of his skin even through the fabric. When Viktor opened his eyes, Jayce was already looking up at him, his expression open, tender, but filled with something deeper—careful and almost reverential.
“Let me take care of you?” He whispered.
Viktor hesitated. Not out of reluctance, exactly, but out of something unspoken, something Jayce could only begin to guess at. Still, he didn’t protest. Didn’t push him away, didn’t try to cover himself or deflect with a sharp remark. He only looked at him for a long, measured moment before nodding slowly.
Jayce smiled, soft and understanding, as he gently reached for the brace on Viktor’s right leg, carefully unfastening it with practiced hands. He had done this a couple of times before, always mindful of Viktor’s discomfort, and each time, it felt like an intimate ritual, a small, tender act of care. Once the brace was set aside, he let his fingers dip beneath the waistband of the man’s trousers. He expected some resistance, some hesitation, but to his quiet surprise, Viktor let him. No tensed muscles, no last-minute excuse—just a small, resigned exhale as Jayce eased the fabric down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his underwear.
And God, Jayce couldn’t help but take a moment just to enjoy the scene before him.
Viktor had always been beautiful to him, in every way—his sharp angles and soft edges, the marks that mapped out the history of his body. But like this, so vulnerable, open and practically naked, he was absolutely breathtaking.
His hands moved instinctively, gently cradling his partner’s bad leg, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin of his calf. The muscle beneath was tight, stiff from strain, and Jayce worked his fingers into it with careful pressure. The reaction was immediate—Viktor let out a quiet, breathy sigh, his body melting just a little deeper into the armchair. His head tipped back against the headrest, and for once, he didn’t try to fight it. Didn’t try to hold himself together out of sheer stubbornness. He just let himself feel it.
Jayce smiled to himself, continuing to knead slow, firm circles into the muscle. His fingers traced over the familiar ridges of tension, over the red lines of irritation that were also present on his leg. Every touch was deliberate, meant to soothe—though the sound Viktor made when Jayce’s thumb pressed into the softest part of his calf sent something hot curling in his stomach.
It wasn’t often that Jayce got to see Viktor like this, after all.
Not just undressed, though that in itself was rare. He was painfully aware of Viktor’s trust issues, of the deep-seated insecurities he carried. Especially when it came to his own body. Vulnerability seemed to be a complicated thing for him, something guarded, slow to be given.
Technically, they’d only been officially dating for two weeks now, but Viktor had his reservations when it came to intimacy, and Jayce wasn’t about to pressure him. He was being patient, giving him time, letting him set the pace. So far, furthest they’d gone was some admittedly intense dry-humping and frotting over their clothes. Not that Jayce had any complaints about that, of course...
But this? This was something else entirely. This was Viktor giving in, allowing Jayce to see him, touch him, care for him in a way he normally resisted.
And Jayce would make sure to take his time with it.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt ran through him when Viktor let out a low, breathy sound—something between a sigh and a moan, pure relief spilling from his lips. Jayce swallowed hard, trying to stay focused, but Viktor’s voice, hazy and loose with pleasure, was doing unspeakable things to him. His parted lips, the way his head lolled against the armchair, his brows slightly furrowed… It all was starting to make Jayce’s head spin.
“You’re good with your hands…”
Those few breathy words, coated in Viktor's deep, honeyed accent went straight to Jayce’s dick.
His stomach tightened as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. He cursed himself internally, frustrated that his body was reacting this way in a moment that was supposed to be purely about easing Viktor’s pain. Not about him. Not about that. This was supposed to be a soothing massage, nothing more. He didn't want Viktor to think he was some kind of degenerate, especially not when all he wanted to do was take care of him.
But to be fair, Viktor just had that effect on him—an effect that had only grown stronger over the past few weeks. And the fact that they still hadn't had proper sex, hadn't crossed that line yet, only made it worse. The tension in his body was unbearable, and no matter how much he tried to focus on the simple act of relief, it was hard to ignore the way his cock started to strain against his jeans.
Jayce exhaled shakily, feeling his face burn. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say, so the words just tumbled out before he could stop them. “Yeah, I’ve been told.” He cringed a little bit at himself, not sure if he meant it as a genuine response or if it carried an unintended double meaning.
Viktor cracked one eye open at him, gaze flickering with amusement before sharpening into something else—something playful, knowing. His lips curled, teasing. “Is that so?”
Oh.
Right there and then, something inside Jayce seemed to click into place, and the tension in his body melted away.
Despite his nervousness and the lingering fear that Viktor might notice his arousal and feel uncomfortable, it seemed to be… quite the opposite.
It took him by surprise, though it didn’t feel like he was imagining the spark of hunger behind those sticky sweet honey eyes. He wasn’t sure if Viktor was finally starting to break down some of his walls, or if it was the wine they’d shared over dinner speaking for him. Maybe it was both.
Jayce felt a spark of nervous anticipation run through him. He really didn’t want to assume anything. He wanted to tread carefully, to make sure Viktor was on the same page as him. So he forced a smirk, trying to keep up, without pushing, without anticipating. But the way Viktor was looking at him —an intense, dark stare, carrying something similar to hunger— was making it incredibly difficult to think straight.
His hands, almost on instinct, drifted higher, fingers pressing into Viktor’s thigh, and his partner hummed at the touch, stretching his legs out a bit more. “And?” He mused, tilting his head. “Are you good with other parts of your body too?”
Jayce nearly choked on his own breath.
He absently licked his lips, heartbeat hammering in his throat, and nodded slowly. “I- Yeah, I’d like to think so.”
Viktor’s eyes flickered down, and then —deliberately and unhurriedly— his opposite leg shifted, his foot gliding between Jayce’s thighs.
Oh.
Oh, damn.
Jayce inhaled sharply, his muscles going taut with surprise. A shiver ran down his spine, heat pooling low in his stomach as arousal flooded over him like a goddamn tsunami. He gulped, pulse thudding against his ribs, and looked up to meet Viktor’s gaze, now burning with amusement.
Slowly, Viktor’s foot nudged forward, gently pressing against his groin, the movement drawing a sharp, breathless gasp from the man beneath him. He leaned forward, his hand moving slowly to settle into his lover’s face, fingertips tracing over his jaw, and then, softly, yet teasingly, he murmured, “Would you show me?”
Jayce’s mouth fell open as he practically whined, nodding wordlessly without a second thought, because of course he would. He would show him anything, everything.
Whatever Viktor wanted, it was his.
The massage was long forgotten. The pretense of anything other than raw, aching need was gone now. His hips moved before he could stop himself, grinding forward against Viktor’s foot, chasing friction, chasing something to soothe the unbearable heat coursing through his veins.
Viktor hummed, low and thoughtful, his thumb gliding over the flushed skin of Jayce’s cheek before tracing over his lips. His touch was impossibly light, almost teasing, and Jayce —without thinking, without hesitating— let his tongue flick out to meet it.
Something shifted in Viktor’s expression, dark and intent, as he took it as permission. His thumb slipped past Jayce’s lips, pressing down onto his tongue, and Jayce welcomed it with no resistance, no shame—just an eager, desperate need to have, to take, to give.
He sucked on it without being told, tongue sliding along the pad of Viktor’s finger, his breath hitching as his grip tightened on the man’s thighs. His hips rolled forward once again, a whimper caught somewhere in the back of his throat as he sought more, more, and more.
And, thank God, Viktor didn’t stop him.
He simply watched, looking utterly satisfied with himself while he dragged his tongue slowly over his own lips, his lashes lowering as his gaze flickered over Jayce’s flushed face. Then, with quiet, deliberate intent, he murmured, “Good boy.”
The reaction was visceral, almost instant. The man’s hazel irises rolled back into his skull, a helpless, broken sound escaping around Viktor’s thumb, as heat pooled in his stomach like molten metal. The praise wrecked him more than he cared to admit; sent something deep and primal flaring to life inside him.
Viktor huffed out a soft, almost breathless laugh before finally pulling his finger from his lover’s mouth, his foot retreating from between his legs. The sudden loss of contact was almost painful. Jayce whined in protest before he could stop himself, his hips stuttering forward in a futile chase for Viktor’s touch. But then Viktor shifted, his legs parting as he slid his thumbs beneath the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down and off with a practiced ease.
Jayce stilled.
Every ounce of need, every flicker of frustration over the sudden lack of friction evaporated, replaced by something sharper, something way hungrier. His pupils blew wide as Viktor leaned back against the armchair’s cushion, thighs spreading open—inviting, tempting, utterly devastating.
Jayce was practically salivating at this point. It was the first time he had seen Viktor like this, and it was better than anything his imagination had ever conjured. He allowed himself to enjoy the view; pink flushed skin impatiently soaking the fabric of the cushion where he was seating, adorned with soft, dark curls that contrasted beautifully against his pale, moonlight skin.
His large hands found Viktor’s thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft skin as if to confirm that this was real, that this was actually happening. His mind scrambled to catch up, to process the sheer, breathtaking sight of him—lean, elegant lines, mole constellations and pale skin kissed with faint scars.
He had always thought Viktor was beautiful. But like this? Like this, he was absolutely devastating.
Still, he hesitated, just for a second. His eyes flicked upward, searching for confirmation. And what he found there —those amber eyes, bright and dark all at once with impossible want— stole what little air he had left in his lungs.
A delicate pink flush had spread across Viktor’s face, creeping down to just beneath his sternum. His hands clenched the armrests, knuckles white with the pressure, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. Jayce couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt —once so carefully unbuttoned to avoid revealing too much— now hung loosely past his shoulders, the fabric cascading around his hips and caught at his elbows, a forgotten garment no longer concerned with hiding anything.
“Well?” Viktor’s voice was a low purr, somewhat challenging but with just the slightest tremor in his tone, betraying the nerves he was trying to mask. That small crack in his control, the vulnerability beneath the teasing, made Jayce feel a little better, as if the tension and nervousness between them wasn’t entirely one-sided. “What are you waiting for?” And then, as his fingers tangled in Jayce’s hair, he murmured, “Show me.”
The weight of Viktor’s words pushed Jayce immediately forward. He shifted, settling comfortably on his knees, and gently lifted his lover’s legs, placing them over his own shoulders. Then, he leaned down, lips brushing the soft skin there with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the heat between them.
His kisses, soft at first, slowly trailed down the inside of Viktor’s thigh, with the gentleness of someone trying to memorize each curve and indentation. His breath hitched as he noticed a tiny mole there, and he pressed his mouth against it too, as though he couldn’t help but touch every part of Viktor that called to him. His teeth grazed lightly over the skin where the leg brace had left its trace, a sort of unspoken apology for the pain he had to endure. He felt Viktor’s hand in his hair, giving it a subtle, yet impatient yank, and without needing another signal, Jayce took the hint.
His mouth fell open and, without preamble, he pressed his tongue against his partner’s sex. Jayce felt Viktor choke on his own breath as his tongue slowly flicked upward, gathering his slick on it, savoring the warmth of his skin, getting drunk on his flavour.
Viktor’s entire body jerked violently, his elbow knocking against the base of his crutch where it rested against the armchair. The hollow clatter of metal striking the floor barely registered—neither of them so much as flinched, too lost in the haze that was consuming them.
Jayce just hummed in satisfaction as he felt Viktor's hands in his hair tighten. He licked another slow, long stripe across his slit, the intoxicating smell of his lover making his head spin in utter devotion.
The man above him let out a shaky whimper as his hips bucked forward, his fingers digging into Jayce’s scalp, desperately pulling him closer. “Mhah- Fuck.”
Oh.
Well, that was a first.
Jayce hadn’t expected Viktor to be the type to say anything during sex, especially not curse. Knowing him, and based on the experience they’d had just a few days before on Jayce’s bed (when they’d simply grinded fully clothed against each other until they came, any noises muffled against each other’s mouths, since they couldn’t seem to stop kissing each other to save their lives), he had imagined Viktor to be the quiet type. The kind who would hold back any sounds, only letting out stifled gasps while biting his lip, trying to keep his composure.
But here he was now, frantically holding onto Jayce, his body trembling above him, as if he’d completely abandoned any restraint. And that small, unexpected sound —shaky and desperate— made Jayce’s heart race. It was a far cry from the composed, reserved Viktor he thought he knew.
And it only made Jayce crave even more.
He focused, tightening his grip on Viktor’s thighs, pushing himself further as he groaned against his lover’s wetness. He let himself indulge into the touch, and slipped his tongue inside of him, as if testing his limits.
The sound Viktor made sent him reeling.
A broken, loud whine tore down his throat, crying out as his back arched against the cushion. He melted into Jayce’s mouth, his body responding with every touch, every movement, the series of moans that slipped from his lips becoming a sweet melody that drove Jayce wild.
“Fffu-” He gasped, his body tightening, toes curling against his partner’s back as the words spilled out. “That’s it. So good, Jayce, so-” He panted. “Keep mnh- Yes, stay there, stay-”
Holy shit.
Whatever Jayce was expecting, it surely wasn’t this.
He looked upward, watching Viktor’s face contort with pleasure, thick eyebrows knitted together into a whineful, almost pleading expression, breathless gasps escaping his parted lips, soft strands of brown hair tumbling across his forehead...
God, what a vision.
Jayce practically growled, burying his face deeper in between the man’s thighs, his tongue sliding in and out, licking him open, turning him into a complete wreck and taking pride in every little sound that came out of his pretty mouth.
All of it was dizzying, too much and not enough at the same time. Viktor’s broken voice caressed his eardrums in a delicious way, driving him mad, pulling him into some sort of magic spell, like he was suddenly part of a delirious wet dream.
He pulled Viktor down into his mouth, dragging his tongue up to curl around his small, swollen cock. His boyfriend yelped, one of his hands flying up to his mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the raw sounds breaking the insides of his throat. Jayce groaned in annoyance, reaching up to grab his wrist and pull his hand aside. Viktor looked at him through damp eyelashes, golden irises completely consumed by big, shiny pupils.
“No.” Jayce simply hummed against his cunt, the word blunt and mandatory. “Wanna hear you.”
Viktor’s head fell back, a desperate whimper escaping his lips as his body writhed beneath Jayce, lost in the intensity of it all. Jayce couldn’t help but grin, a thrill running through him as he watched his reaction, feeling himself unravel just from the angelic sounds spilling from Viktor’s mouth.
He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged as he took in the sight before him, spreading Viktor’s folds with both of his thumbs. His vision swam, his mind hazy, every nerve in his body alight with something too intense to name. He felt like he could collapse right then and there, lost in the dizzying high of it all.
“God, V...” The words slipped out, dragged and slurred like a man drunk off something far stronger than alcohol. “So, so pretty…”
And then, as if possessed by something beyond himself, as if his own body had been ensnared by some wicked enchantment, he gathered spit on the back of his mouth, and he spat. Immediately after, his tongue darted out again, tracing a slow path, following where the slick warmth already marked its claim.
Viktor’s eyes flew open, wide with shock, his entire body going taut above him. A raw, almost inhuman sound tore from his throat, as if his mind couldn’t quite process what just happened. His fingers scrambled for purchase against the upholstery, grasping at nothing, as he choked out, “Ohmygodohmygod-”
Jayce’s own cock ached inside his pants, throbbing with each loud whine, each soft cry. He was certain he could come just like this, getting high on Viktor’s scent, on his taste, on the sound of his screams. He then pressed his hips against the surface of the armchair, a sharp, almost relieved groan escaping him, mingled with a deeper eagerness.
Tears of sheer pleasure spilled down Viktor's flushed cheeks, unbidden, his lips parting around a breathless, broken string of words. “ Jayce, Jayce, Jayce…” Hearing his name on his tongue made Jayce's ears buzz. “Oh, please, please…!”
It wasn’t what Viktor had said, but the way he’d said it—vulnerable, almost pleading. Jayce felt something feral stir deep within him, jerking his hips forward with increasing urgency.
He pulled back again from his now designated spot, licking his lips and trapping the remnants of his partner around his mouth. “Please what?” He managed to ask, his mouth half open, as he kept rubbing himself off against the tight strain of his jeans. “What do you want?”
Viktor trembled above him, his hands finding the armrests and digging his nails into the fabric, as though trying to anchor himself. “I…” He gasped, swallowing hard. “Your- Your fingers, I want your fingers.”
“Fuck.” Jayce choked, feeling every shred of his sanity slipping away.
Without giving it much thought, his hand flew up and he easily slid two long fingers inside of his partner, drawing a sharp cry out of him. Jayce let himself indulge in the sensation of Viktor swallowing his fingers down, tight and hot and impossibly wet.
“Jesus, you’re soaking.” He mumbled, mesmerized by the sight.
“Your fault.” Viktor replied back, biting hard on his trembling lip.
A subtle, sly smile crept onto Jayce’s mouth, as he curled his fingers, trying to find the perfect spot, his mouth returning to where it had always meant to be. And of course, Viktor melted into his touch, one of his hands roaming up his own chest, fingers gently curling around his throat, as he let his head fall against the backrest.
It was endearing, in a way—this man, usually so composed and calculated, coming undone like this, completely lost to the sensation. It almost was like some sort of prize, and Jayce felt a vertiginous rush of power take over him.
Viktor, the most brilliant, intelligent man he knew, reduced to a babbling, crying mess.
All at his mercy now.
Jayce continued his steady rhythm, each movement of his mouth, his fingers, and his hips blending together in a feverish pursuit. Then, without warning, he found the perfect spot, a place that made Viktor's body jerk and writhe in his seat.
“Jayce!” He moaned, each syllable of the name rolling off his tongue in the most mesmerizing way. “Fuckfuckfuck, right there, just- God, please…!” Viktor was mumbling now, his voice ragged and fragmented, trembling as his lover’s tongue continued its persistent movements. His legs were shaking, heels pressing bluntly into Jayce's back. “Please, don't stop. Please, please, I’m gonna-”
Jayce moaned against his partner’s sex, movements becoming increasingly fluid, a rhythm he couldn't even control at this point. His head felt light, his body thrumming with something dangerously close to delirium. He felt spellbound, like every ounce of his free will had been stripped away, leaving only instinct, only need—only Viktor. And he wanted that. Wanted to give in, to let himself be swept under, to lose himself completely in him.
Jayce's fingers pressed deeper while his own hips instinctively matched the beat. His left hand flew to his own clothed erection, and he palmed himself through the fabric of his pants, the feeling achingly sweet.
The tension built, and suddenly, in an instant, his thoughts blurred into a maddening haze, his hips jerking involuntarily as he felt the wave of his own release crashing over him, the fabric at the seam of his jeans dampened by the sudden warmth.
Without even letting the shock of his own climax wash over him, Jayce continued for a few more seconds, his mind fuzzy and drunk on the feeling of Viktor’s cunt against his mouth. Finally, the man above him let out a strangled cry, his shaky hand threading into Jayce's hair, tugging him closer as his opposite one kept clutching desperately at his own throat. And finally, his body reached its peak, trapping Jayce’s head in between his trembling thighs.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing, filling the space like something tangible, thick and charged. Viktor’s legs, still shaking, slowly loosened their hold around Jayce, his body sinking back into the seat as if his bones had turned to liquid. Jayce sat back as well, exhaling heavily, his lips parted, chest rising and falling with every labored breath.
Neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other, wide-eyed and dazed, pupils blown, as if trying to make sense of what had just happened. Seconds stretched, turning into what felt like minutes of silence, neither of them daring to break it, their minds still struggling to catch up with their bodies.
Then, finally, Viktor let out a breathless, “Wow.”
Jayce blinked. A second later, a small, incredulous chuckle escaped him. Viktor huffed a short laugh as well, rubbing a hand over his flushed face before fidgeting slightly with the cuff of his sleeve, his fingers twitching with nervous energy.
“Wow.” He repeated, sounding almost disoriented, then cleared his throat. “I- Yes, sorry. Give me a moment and I’ll- eh, return the favor.”
Jayce felt his face go up in flames. His stomach flipped violently, embarrassment washing over him as he suddenly became painfully aware of the undeniable, sticky evidence pressing uncomfortably in between his legs.
He swallowed thickly, his hand instinctively flying to cover himself as he wiped his mouth with the back of the other, muttering, “Oh- No, I- I mean, thank you, but you don’t have to. I just… I wanted to make you feel good.” He shifted awkwardly. “And, uh. It won’t be necessary anyway.”
Viktor, still slightly out of breath, frowned at him, puzzled. His gaze flickered downward, following the movement of Jayce’s hand. And then-
“Oh.”
Realization hit him. His expression shifted from confusion to amusement to something dangerously close to delight. Slowly, almost too slowly, a grin curled at the edges of his mouth, something wicked glinting in his eyes as he clamped a hand over his lips, barely stifling a laugh.
“Did you-?” He said, voice breathy and amused, his shoulders trembling with the effort of holding it in.
Jayce squeezed his eyes shut for a second, groaning softly before letting out a nervous chuckle. “Don’t laugh!”
“I’m not laughing!”
“You’re totally laughing.”
Viktor did, in fact, start laughing, shaking with it, a breathless, delighted snort that sent heat crawling up Jayce’s neck. He hiccupped slightly, pressing the heel of his palm against one eye as if that would help contain himself. “Oh, God- I’m sorry, I just-” He gasped, still giggling. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Jayce exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but a small, sheepish grin tugged at his lips nonetheless. He groaned, looking down at himself. “Jesus. I ruined these pants.”
Viktor, still grinning, let out a dramatic sigh, waving a hand dismissively. “Take them off and leave them in the bathroom. I’ll throw them in the wash later.”
Jayce hesitated for a moment before nodding, murmuring a shy, “Thanks.” After a brief silence, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “Uh. So… good?”
Viktor rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yes, Jayce. Good. Really good.”
A surge of undeniable pride swelled in the man’s chest, and he grinned, nodding. “Right. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” His voice was still a little breathless, but the satisfaction in it was unmistakable.
Viktor huffed out another laugh, adjusting his shirt loosely over his shoulders. “You really are good with many parts of your body.”
Jayce chuckled, as he shifted to stand. “Told you.” He rolled his shoulders, stretching his legs with a low groan before turning—and then freezing.
There stood the full body mirror of Viktor’s room.
It had completely slipped his mind.
Wide-eyed, he whipped his head back to his partner. “Wait. Were you-” He started. “This whole time you were…?”
Viktor blinked at him. His face, already flushed, turned an even deeper shade of red. He averted his gaze, shifting slightly in his seat as if trying to make himself smaller.
Jayce gawked at him before suddenly bursting into laughter, warm and incredulous. “Viktor!”
“Oh, leave me alone!” Viktor groaned, covering his face with both hands. “God forbid a man enjoy the view!”
Jayce laughed harder, tilting his head back, the sound filling the room. And as Viktor peeked at him through his fingers, still very much pink-faced but now grinning despite himself, he couldn’t help but think that if all it took for Viktor to enjoy looking at himself in the mirror was having Jayce in between his legs…
Well, Jayce really had no complaints about it.