Work Text:
The laboratory had grown devastatingly quiet in recent weeks.
It was not in the literal sense… Machines still hummed and instruments still clicked and sparked with life. But Viktor felt it. The suffocating quietness. That kind of silence that echoed, that lingered in the spaces between breaths. The kind that reminded him that he was alone once again.
He was sitting at the desk, hunched over some blueprints, his fingers toying with the pencil in restless motions. He had long since memorized the rhythm of this kind of task, and yet he found no comfort in it today. The stool, the one he usually used, that unforgiving little thing with wheels that always squeaked no matter how often he adjusted them, sat abandoned a few paces behind him. Tonight, he sat on Jayce’s chair instead, for no particular reason.
He told himself it was because the lumbar support was better. Because it was at a better angle to reach the main workbench. Because it simply was there.
But the truth was, it still smelled faintly like Jayce. Like fake leather and iron and something warm and inexplicably sweet. Viktor’s hand twitched minutely on the edge of the desk. He stared at the blueprints but didn’t see them. Instead, his mind wandered to the way Jayce used to sit here beside him, legs sprawled far too wide for the small space, elbow knocking into Viktor’s arm every five minutes to gift him a devastatingly soft smile.
Jayce had always been louder than any machine. And certainly distracting as hell.
And Viktor missed him. In more ways than he was willing to name.
Of course, Jayce wasn’t gone, not really. He still worked with him in the lab from time to time, when he could. But it wasn’t the same. Not since he’d taken the Council seat. Not since all their late-night sessions had turned into quiet mornings with Viktor at the lab and Jayce halfway across the city in meetings that he hated.
They’d said it was for the good of Piltover. For the good of Hextech.
Viktor wondered whether that meant it was meant to be good for them, too.
The door clicked open without ceremony, pulling him out of his thoughts. He heard the sound of heavy boots against the tile, and then a groan—part frustration, part theatricality. He didn't even have to turn around.
“Gods.” Jayce’s voice cut through the silence, ragged and warm in a way that always made Viktor’s spine tense with something he’d rather not examine too closely. “How do people do this for a living? If one more councilor lectures me about diplomatic neutrality, I’m jumping out the window and hoping I land on something pointy.”
Viktor finally turned in his seat, slowly, arching a single brow in quiet censure, eyes narrowing just slightly. Considering the fact that the first night they had met, Jayce had nearly thrown himself off a ledge, he was far too comfortable making jokes about it, as if humor could sand down the corners of that memory and make it safer to touch.
Jayce caught the look and his expression faltered, flickering into something sheepish. He rubbed at the back of his neck, one shoulder rising in a loose shrug as he mouthed a silent, exaggerated “sorry…”, eyes rolling with a boyish twist of contrition that made Viktor want to be mad and soft at the same time.
He then proceeded to throw his coat rather than hanging it up like a civilized person. He let out a long sigh, rolling his shoulders as he strode forward. There were faint shadows under his eyes, and the tie that hung around his neck was loose, half-undone and uneven.
Viktor exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh, but close. “So I take it the meeting went well, then.”
Jayce huffed a breathless laugh, like steam venting from a pipe. “Oh, yeah. A stunning success. I managed not to strangle anyone, which I think is a sign of personal growth.”
Viktor tilted his head, lips quirking just enough to betray his amusement. “Astounding.”
“Mh-mh. It’s official.” He muttered, dragging a hand through his hair as he reached Viktor’s workstation. “I suck at politics.”
“Well, I could have told you that months ago.” Viktor scoffed, turning his back to his work again. “No offense.”
Jayce gave a short laugh and leaned in close, arms braced against the desk on either side of Viktor. The older man immediately felt his presence against his back, a gravitational pull he had grown too familiar with to resist.
“Yeah, well. But now I’ve got the receipts to prove it, I guess.” He murmured. His hand rose, almost idly, and then slid across the back of Viktor’s neck with the lightest pressure. Just a brush of fingertips, nothing more, but the warmth of his touch settled deep, uncoiling something tense in Viktor’s chest. “Hey. Are you sitting in my chair?”
Viktor didn’t turn, didn’t shift. He simply lifted one brow and said evenly, “I don’t see your name written on it.”
“Uh, excuse me, yes it is. Spiritually. The chair is mine. You always say you prefer the stool so you can move around the lab without having to walk.”
“Well,” Viktor finally glanced over his shoulder, “this one is perfectly functional too. And pretty comfortable.”
“Yeah, it’s a nice chair. That’s why it’s mine.”
“And yet here I am. Sitting in it. Successfully, I might add.”
“Right. I see that.” Jayce said, narrowing his eyes.
He moved closer, fingers brushing the skin on Viktor’s nape up to his hair, softly sinking his fingers into messy brown curls. Viktor could feel him practically vibrating with that reckless, playful energy he hadn’t seen in days.
Swallowing hard, Viktor lifted his head, facing the man in front of him again. Jayce’s eyes dropped to his lips for the briefest of moments, and then his smile turned into something slower. Warmer.
Viktor looked up at him through his lashes, an eyebrow still raised. “Is there a problem, councilor?”
Jayce bit his lip and leaned in a bit closer, his voice pitched somewhere between coy and hesitant. “I just…” He said, eyes flicking away before returning to Viktor’s with a sheepish glint. “I’m really tired. That meeting dragged on forever, and it’s already late. So I thought maybe we could… head home together?”
The way he said home made Viktor’s heart tighten—something too warm, too hopeful. Jayce never clarified which home he meant. His apartment? Viktor’s rooms? The space between, where they tangled in sheets and silence and never quite talked about what any of it meant?
Viktor held his gaze for a beat too long, trying not to look at the curve of his mouth or the faint flush on his cheekbones. Gods, he wanted to take this glorious, infuriating man to bed and press him into the mattress until his name was the only thing left on Jayce’s tongue. His absence had become a heavy, tangible thing these past weeks. Not just in the lab, where his laughter no longer ricocheted off the walls. No, it lingered deeper than that. In the way Viktor woke up alone. In the empty ache behind his ribs.
Jayce had been busy playing politics, so they hadn’t had time to indulge in their usual, casual, sporadic rendezvous. And Viktor had begun to feel it. Crave it. Crave him.
But even through the soft pull of longing, something cold and sharp twisted in his gut. Pride, maybe. Or something dangerously close to it. A little voice inside his head told him that Jayce couldn’t just show up when it suited him. Not when he didn’t even help as often with their research anymore. Not when all he seemed to want now was a moment of warmth before vanishing again into Council chambers and public obligations.
Viktor swallowed the bitter taste rising in his throat and turned back to the schematics in front of him. “I have to finish reviewing these blueprints.” He said, tone careful, yet soft still. “If you’re that tired, perhaps you should go home and rest.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Jayce deflate, his expression flickering into something faintly wounded. “Well, you’ve probably been here for hours too…” He countered, voice gentler now, edged with concern. “You should rest as well.”
“I need to finish this.” Viktor replied without turning.
There was a beat of silence. After that, the soft sound of Jayce’s faux leather boots against the floor. Then, the stool being dragged across the lab. Viktor felt Jayce sitting down on it right behind him, close enough that his knees brushed the back of Viktor’s thighs.
“Then I’ll wait.” Jayce stated, as if that settled the matter. “We can leave together when you’re done.”
Viktor exhaled slowly through his nose. “That won't be necessary.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care.”
Of course he didn’t. Jayce never minded anything when he’d already made up his mind.
Viktor’s shoulders stiffened, jaw tightening as he stared down at the delicate curves of the hexplate blueprint in front of him, lines blurring slightly at the edges. Jayce’s warmth at his back was distracting, impossible to ignore, quietly consuming.
He’s always been this insistent, Viktor thought, nervously twisting a strand of his hair as he tried —and failed— not to focus on the ghost of breath he could almost feel against his shoulder. He pushed down the urge to lean back, to sink into the closeness.
Instead, he focused on his work. Or tried to.
And it worked. For approximately three minutes.
Or at least until Jayce’s hand started to move.
It began innocently enough: a brush of fingers along Viktor’s knee, light and aimless, as though it meant nothing. Then, gradually, those fingers traced upward, mapping the outer line of his thigh. Jayce’s chin found a home on his shoulder under the transparent pretense of studying the blueprints, breath warm against his skin.
Viktor didn’t move. He didn't flinch. But his grip on the pencil tightened ever so slightly, knuckles paling, every muscle in his body pulled taut like the string of a violin. He could feel the burn of heat rising in his neck, blooming behind his ears. He focused on the equations in front of him like a drowning man might fixate on the surface.
He knew this game. Jayce played it far too well.
Still, he held his ground. He had work to do. He would finish these calibrations. He would not be swayed by a wandering hand and a warm mouth and a voice that could unravel his coherence like silk from a spool and-
“Jayce.” He warned, low and strained.
A small kiss landed on his shoulder, featherlight and infuriatingly tender. “What?” Jayce murmured with mock innocence. His hand moved further, settling with maddening boldness between his legs, palm pressing through fabric with a familiarity that made Viktor’s breath catch. “Oh, please, don’t let me distract you. Pretend I’m not here.”
Viktor closed his eyes for half a second, calling upon every ounce of composure he possessed. He could end this. A firm word, a cool look, and he would make Jayce retreat with an awkward laugh and a sheepish apology.
But he didn’t.
Because at the end of the day, he was still just a man. Even worse: a horribly infatuated man. Pathetically, irreversibly, embarrassingly drawn to this reckless, golden man who had stormed into his life like a thunderclap and never once looked back.
So Viktor exhaled, long and slow, and shifted just enough to allow Jayce a better angle—because if he was going to be distracted, he might as well enjoy it. He kept one hand on the prints, pencil trembling faintly in his grip, while the other dropped quietly into his lap, close, but not quite touching Jayce’s.
Let him play, then. He could pretend a little longer.
Jayce grew bolder. His palm pressed in slow, languid circles, the heel of his hand dragging with infuriating precision, never quite enough to undo Viktor’s control, but more than enough to fracture it. His body leaned closer, all heat and temptation, the softness of his mouth brushing Viktor’s neck as he whispered, almost coy:
“Are you sure you’re busy?”
Viktor’s jaw clenched. He didn’t look up. Didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Jayce.” He repeated, almost scolding. “Do not distract me. I won’t say it again.”
But Jayce, predictably, ignored him. The movement grew more deliberate, fingers now wrapping around Viktor’s length through the frustrating barrier of his pants, unbothered by the increasing tension in his posture or the soft, broken breath he didn’t quite manage to stifle.
So eventually, Viktor snapped.
He dropped the pencil, turned sharply in the chair and grabbed Jayce’s face, fingers digging into the hinge of his jawline. Viktor’s eyes burned as they met his, sharp and molten and absolutely done with being teased.
“I said,” he growled, “do not distract me.”
Jayce gasped, the sound escaping him like a punched breath, pupils blown wide in a rush of startled want. His lips parted slightly under Viktor’s grip, and something shifted behind his eyes—gone was the teasing grin, replaced by a flicker of heat, submission curling at the edges of his bravado like parchment to flame.
Viktor felt it. The subtle change. The quiet surrender.
And Gods help him, he wanted it. He needed it.
“You’re being very badly behaved tonight.” Viktor said, his voice quieter now, far more lethal in its softness. “Clearly, someone needs a reminder of how to follow instructions.”
Jayce swallowed, and after a beat, he leaned in, lashes fluttering as he whispered, “Maybe I like being reminded.”
There was this glint in his eye—cheeky, delighting in the tension he’d pulled taut between them. He was pushing, begging for the edge, but beneath it all, Viktor saw it clearly: he would obey. He wanted to obey. And if he didn’t, Viktor would force him to.
His thumb dragged slowly along the line of Jayce’s cheek, just beneath his lip. “Alright.” He murmured, voice turned to silk and steel. “Then I’ll make sure you remember how to behave.”
There was a flicker of hesitation in Jayce’s eyes. Just a pause, a flutter of nerves sparking beneath his skin like static. He licked his lips, and Viktor felt his own breath hitch in response.
Jayce’s hand was still now, but it hadn’t moved from its original position. His brows lifted with false innocence as he asked, “Really?”, voice low and lazy, laced with the sort of teasing insolence that made Viktor’s fingers twitch with the urge to correct.
His gaze darkened, his thumb trailing down to press lightly against Jayce’s mouth, silencing any further smart remarks. “Here’s what we’re going to do…” He began, each word a promise and a warning all at once. “You’re going to get up, take off your pants, and let me teach you some good manners.” He continued, fingers sliding under Jayce’s jaw to tilt his face up, keeping him where he wanted him. “You will not touch me, nor yourself. You will not move unless I say so.”
Jayce’s pupils dilated. “And if I don’t?”
Viktor’s smile was sharp as a knife, merciless. “Then I’ll make sure you don’t come tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that.” He leaned in, voice soft and devastating against the shell of the man’s ear. “I’ll have you shaking and fucking incoherent by the time I’m done with you. Are we clear?”
Jayce groaned, nodding and shifting in his seat, his hand moving to grip Viktor’s thigh with brute, desperate force, already undone by the thought alone.
“That’s right.” Viktor murmured. “You want to misbehave, pretty boy? Then you’ll learn how to suffer for it.”
His lover made another strangled noise that died in his throat, a mix of nervousness and arousal. His gaze flicked to Viktor’s, searching, almost as if waiting for the next move, and gave a single, small nod.
“Good. Up. Now.”
Jayce obeyed, slowly, biting down on his bottom lip, clearly trying not to grin from excitement.
Viktor adjusted the chair so he was facing him entirely. “Hands on the edge of the backrest. Eyes on me.” Once his partner did as he was told, bright eyes shining with anticipation, Viktor reached for the button of his pants, expression unreadable. “We’ll see just how mouthy you feel,” he added, “when you’re sobbing and begging me to let you finish.”
“Fuck.” Jayce purred, almost panting at the words and at the soft sound of his button popping open. His fingers curled tighter around the backrest of the chair, shoulders tense with anticipation, but he kept his eyes locked on Viktor’s, just like he’d been told.
Without further preamble, the older man tugged Jayce’s pants and underwear down just enough to expose him, leaving him vulnerable, half-dressed and trembling with expectation. His hands lingered at Jayce’s hips, slow and possessive, fingertips ghosting over bare skin. Then, long, bulky, elegant fingers slowly wrapped around the base of his erection, earning him a subtle full body shiver.
“So quiet now.” Viktor drawled, a thumb still brushing lightly over Jayce’s hipbone. “Where’s all that attitude gone, hm?”
Jayce opened his mouth, maybe to retort, maybe to beg, but before he could get a sound out, Viktor gave a slight squeeze with his closed fist, just hard enough to make him gasp.
“Did I say you could talk?” He asked, his accent thickening with the weight of his control. Jayce shook his head quickly in response, cheeks burning. He squeezed the chair harder, muscles straining slightly from the tension. “That’s what I thought.” Viktor continued, adjusting his position on the chair. Then he lowered his sight and made a small gesture with his chin, a silent order.
Without a word, Jayce spread his legs wider to steady himself, exposing even more of his flushed, eager body to his partner's gaze.
“Good boy.” Viktor purred, satisfaction curling at the corners of his mouth. “Stay still for me, alright?”
Jayce nodded, heart hammering against his ribs. He could feel every second stretch out, heavy with promise, as Viktor finally started stroking him at a maddeningly slow pace.
“Look at you. So needy. Dripping wet already before I could even touch you. Pathetic.”
Jayce made a small, desperate sound in the back of his throat, knuckles whitening where he gripped the chair. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak, just let the flush of shame and desire roll over him.
“That’s it.” Viktor whispered approvingly. He let saliva gather in his mouth before spitting, precise and unhurried, right on the tip of Jayce’s cock, his hand speeding up at last, dragging a broken moan out of him. “Coming here with such an attitude, acting like a brat…” He said, voice a velvet threat. “All of that, just to have an excuse for me to put you in your place. You love being reminded who you belong to, don’t you, councilor?”
Jayce could only nod, mouth slack, brows knitted together in a pleading expression. Despite all his usual protests —the way he always insisted he hated politics, how he tried to act modest, to pretend he wasn't good at it— Viktor had quickly learned that holding the title of councilor fed Jayce's ego terribly.
Still, Viktor thought, maybe he could allow him to indulge a little.
Without another word, he leaned in, moving his hands to cup his partner’s ass, pulling him forward, and finally wrapping his mouth around his whole length, slow and deliberate.
Jayce's eyes widened slightly before fluttering shut, a wrecked, breathless groan catching in his throat as he threw his head back. His fingers tightened around the edge of the chair, trembling, now. “Holy shit…” He exhaled, voice cracked and airy, barely more than a whisper.
Viktor closed his eyes, focusing on the way Jayce's body shuddered under his tongue, on the desperate little sounds he couldn't seem to hold back. There was something profoundly empowering about having a councilor from one of Runeterra’s wealthiest cities reduced to a helpless, trembling mess under his control.
He set a steady rhythm, tasting Jayce’s musky flavour at the back of his throat, savoring every twitch and shudder he drew out of him. He could feel him starting to squirm, big thighs tensing under his hands, breath coming faster, ragged.
A moment later, Viktor felt a set of desperate fingers threading into his hair, giving a a shaky little push against his head, craving more, and more, and more. Immediately, he pulled back with a faint cough, breath coming harsh through his nose, leaving Jayce exposed and aching. The younger man let out a whimper of pure, miserable disappointment, hips stuttering forward in empty air.
“I said,” Viktor growled, voice rough, “no touching.”
Jayce swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed deep red, and quickly brought back his hands to the chair’s edge, shame burning in every line of his body. “S-sorry.” He stammered, eyes squeezed shut, trying not to beg outright.
“Seems you really don't know how to behave after all.” Viktor mused, letting his hand return to Jayce’s cock and resume its pace in quick, almost aggressive strokes, filling the lab with wet, embarrassingly loud sounds, just as he lowered his head to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin just above the man’s hip.
“Hah-!” Jayce cried out, a broken little noise escaping him as he squirmed, voice hitching. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” He gasped, his voice cracking further. “It's just- Gods, I'm close, I’m so close-!”
Viktor hummed against his skin, almost indulgent, almost amused. He could definitely feel the way Jayce’s muscles tensed under him, almost on the verge of the precipice. It would take only a little more.
And so, Viktor let go, releasing him just as he was about to tip over the edge.
Jayce gasped sharply, hips jerking uselessly, a desperate, broken sound leaving his throat. His whole body trembled with the effort of holding himself together.
“I warned you.” Viktor said coolly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you can't obey, you have to deal with the consequences.”
He let the words hang between them, heavy and merciless. Then, slowly, he undid the button of his own pants, leaning back slightly against the chair. His golden eyes pinned Jayce in place, filled with silent command.
“On your knees.” He ordered, voice like a whipcrack in the charged air. He nodded down, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Help me get this off.” His weak leg shifted slightly, an unspoken instruction that Jayce caught immediately.
Without hesitation, he slipped off his boots, then tugged his pants down all the way to the floor before dropping instinctively to his knees. He then worked quickly to unbuckle the straps of Viktor's leg brace, every touch deliberate, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool metal. As soon as the brace hit the floor, Viktor shifted slightly in his chair, enough to allow Jayce to pull his pants and underwear down to his ankles, his hands steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
Viktor's eyes softened with amusement, and he tilted his chin toward one of the locked drawers. Without a word, Jayce understood, and frantically got up, scrambling to open it. He quickly came back with a small bottle of oil in his hand.
Viktor sighed and gave a couple of soft pats on his lap, the sound reverberating slightly in the tense air of the lab. “Come here, big boy.”
Jayce gulped, and Viktor caught the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he was fighting a losing battle against a grin that threatened to split his face. His whole body thrummed with barely contained excitement, the emotion so raw and overwhelming that it made it almost impossible for him to keep a straight face, let alone his composure. Slowly, carefully, he moved closer, sitting on Viktor's lap, almost as if the mere act of being this close could break him. Their erections brushed together, pulling a soft gasp from the both of them. The proximity and the light friction was electric, their breaths tangled in a slow, almost synchronized rhythm.
Viktor’s heart skipped a beat when he realized their faces were inches apart, his pulse quickening at the closeness. For a brief moment, Jayce leaned in, but Viktor's index finger against his lips stopped him.
“Ah-ah.” He whispered, tone gentle yet firm. “No touching includes no kissing. I will decide when you’ve earned it.”
Jayce's lips parted to let out a soft sigh. “Sorry…” He apologized again, his breath warm against Viktor's fingertip.
Viktor took the small bottle of oil from Jayce’s hand. He popped it open and squeezed a small drop between them, letting the cool liquid slick both of their cocks, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from their bodies. A moment later, he slowly worked it into his fingers, the smoothness of it slipping over his skin before he set the bottle aside, the sound of it landing on the table punctuating the silence that enveloped them.
Jayce placed his hands back on the edge of the chair again. His body was taut, every muscle wound tight with anticipation as he tried to hold himself back from grinding his aching hardness against his partner’s.
“Stay still.” Viktor murmured, moving his wet fingers to Jayce’s entrance, merely brushing the tight skin there with a featherlight touch. “Relax for me, dear. Think you can do that?”
The simplicity of the request only intensified the moment. Jayce’s lips parted slightly, a soft exhale escaping him as he nodded, the need to comply burning through him, the desire to give in to Viktor’s guidance. He shut his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts, slowly allowing himself to relax, one inch at a time. His jaw dropped a little, releasing the tightness that had held him, focusing on steadying his breath as it came in slow, controlled inhales.
Viktor smiled, rubbing gentle circles with his slicked fingers. “That’s it. Well done.” He whispered, lips trailing to the bare skin of Jayce’s collarbone, where the fabric of his shirt had parted just slightly. He kissed the exposed flesh just at the same time as he slid a finger inside Jayce in a slow, gentle gesture.
He winced a little in response, his body still on edge. “Vik…”
“Shh…” Viktor shushed back, a soft reassurance that anchored Jayce further into the moment. “I know, I got you, relax.”
His other hand, moved to cup both of their cocks, pulling them together, impossibly close. He then started to draw slow, maddening movements, sliding his hand up and down, the wet friction easing the tension from Jayce’s muscles.
The younger man groaned softly, his forehead leaning against the top of Viktor’s head, eyes still closed, letting himself melt into the steady rhythm of his lover’s touch. Both of their breathing grew heavier, filling the air with a sense of mounting need. Viktor felt his body betray him, despite the iron control he was trying to hold.
Jayce started to subtly grind himself into Viktor’s fist, jaw slackening as he closed his eyes tighter, needing, taking, craving. He couldn’t help the quiet whimper that slipped past his lips when Viktor’s middle finger sank to the knuckle inside of him. His entire body shuddered, aching for the continued touch.
“Put another one. I can take it.” He whispered, the words fragile, desperate. “Please.”
“So greedy.” Viktor let out a soft, approving hum. The pace picked up again, each stroke now harsher, more insistent, like he was determined to leave Jayce undone, trembling in his hands. “Begging already? That was fast.” His partner’s throat tightened, a strangled sound escaping him as his chest rose and fell with each desperate breath. “You want to be good, don’t you?”
“Yes. Gods, yes.”
“Then be patient. You’re going to take this, and you’re going to take it well.” He stated, moving his middle finger with studied precision. “Keep still for me, Jayce. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The man above him whimpered again, his head falling back as his body shook. “I’m trying, I’m trying…” He murmured, his breath quickening. “Fuck, I’m-”
“No.” Viktor interrupted, bringing his movements to a stop and placing his thumb on top of Jayce’s throbbing cock, rubbing gently at the slit. “Don’t you dare. I’m not done with you.”
His partner cried out in frustration, his hands gripping the edge of the chair tightly, trying to keep himself steady. Overwhelmed and barely able to think, he nodded slightly, his body trembling.
“You’ll wait until I say so. Understand?”
“Mhn.”
“Jayce, use your words. Do you understand?”
“Fuck- Yes.” He nodded, barely able to form the words. “I… understand.”
Viktor’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smirk. “Good boy.” He said before pushing another digit inside of him.
Jayce let out a choked cry, burying his face in Viktor’s hair, trying to muffle the desperate sounds breaking from his throat. Viktor kept his fingers moving, working him open, his touch steady and unrelenting, his mouth trailing along the exposed skin he could find, grazing and nipping at every sensitive patch he could reach.
“Hah!” Jayce squirmed helplessly, a broken gasp spilling from him. “There- Right there-” He pleaded, his voice cracking with need.
Viktor hummed lowly against his skin, pleased, and kept working that spot. His fingers moved with unrelenting precision, merciless in the way they pressed where his lover needed him most. Jayce's whole body tensed, then shuddered violently, a wrecked sound catching in his throat.
His hands scrambled uselessly at the edges of the chair, searching for something to hold onto as the pleasure overwhelmed him, sharp and hot and immediate. His breath hitched, eyes squeezing shut, jaw slack with desperation. “Fuck, V-” He choked out, burying his face instinctively in the crook of Viktor’s neck, as if hoping to muffle the raw, needy noises spilling from him. “I can’t- I can’t hold it, I can’t-”
Then, without warning, Viktor pulled his fingers away entirely.
Jayce let out a pitiful whine at the loss, his hips stuttering back instinctively, chasing after the sensation that had been so cruelly taken from him. “No, no, no…!” He cried, pulling back to look at Viktor with glassy, pleading eyes. “Please, oh, Viktor, please.”
Viktor’s fist tightened cruelly around the head of Jayce’s cock, making him groan. “Please what?” He asked, letting the words curl slow and deliberate in the heavy lab atmosphere.
Jayce stammered, his chest heaving, mouth opening and closing uselessly before he managed to speak. “Please, let me- let me come. Please, I’ve been good, I’ve been so good-”
Viktor’s lips quirked into a smirk, indulging in the sight of this prodigy of a man fall apart for him. He licked his lips slowly before speaking, “I don’t think you even know what being good means.” His fingers gave a teasing squeeze that made Jayce moan brokenly. “You’re going to have to wait. I think it’s my turn now, hm? You wouldn’t want to be selfish, would you?”
Jayce huffed in pure frustration, his head dropping forward, a helpless little growl escaping him.
“If you make me feel good, I’ll let you come.” Viktor murmured. “But you need to behave yourself first. You're making a mess, councilor.”
Before Jayce could respond, Viktor caught the loose end of Jayce’s tie, still hanging sloppily around his neck. With slow, deliberate movements, he gathered it, sliding the fabric up, then pressing it gently but firmly between his lips. Jayce’s eyes widened in shock, but after a moment, he opened his mouth, allowing Viktor to place the red fabric inside.
“There we go.” Viktor said, observing the improvised gag. “Bite down. Let’s keep those pretty sounds to ourselves, hm? Wouldn’t want anyone walking in on us because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
Jayce shivered, the tie muffling a desperate whine, but he obeyed, his lips closing around the silk obediently.
“Good boy.” Viktor praised as he leaned back slightly, extending his arm to catch the oil bottle once again. “Now, up. Turn around for me.” He spoke almost without thinking, as he absentmindedly poured more of the bottle’s content onto himself, spreading the slickness over his skin.
Jayce hesitated for a second, nerves and anticipation warring inside him, but he pushed himself up on shaky legs, turning his back as instructed. The second he did, Viktor’s right hand carelessly discarded the oil and immediately found his waist, firm and possessive, guiding him down with slow, unyielding pressure. He grabbed his own dick, patiently aligning himself with the man’s entrance and rubbing his tip against it, teasing, testing.
Jayce braced his hands on the edge of the table in front of him, casting a tearful glance over his shoulder, letting out a muffled groan against the tie in his mouth, wordlessly begging.
Viktor exhaled a long, trembling breath, his voice rough with something close to awe as he spoke, “Who would’ve thought The Man of Progress, a member of Piltover’s prestigious Council…” He said as he finally pressed forward, slowly filling Jayce up, “...would be such a cockslut?”
Jayce moaned, sinking himself down into Viktor’s length, taking his time to adjust, both of them shivering and panting through the staggering intensity of it all. For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were their ragged breaths, heavy and uneven.
Then Viktor spoke with a wicked sort of anticipation, “Go on, then. You want to come?” His voice suddenly dropped, tone shifting into something darker, accent thickening. “Earn it.”
Biting down a groan, Jayce began to move, finding a slow rhythm, desperate to please. Viktor's hands clamped around his waist, steadying him, his gaze full of hunger as he leaned back into the chair to take in the sight: Jayce, undone and obedient, riding his cock.
Viktor had to admit this was definitely better than working on those blueprints.
It didn’t take long before Viktor's breathless moans turned into broken whines, his restraint crumbling with every desperate grind of Jayce’s hips. “Fuck, Jayce.” He cursed under his breath, fingers digging a little harder into tan skin. “Just like that. You’re doing so, so good.”
The man whimpered, pressing harder against him, the praise making his whole body shudder with renewed urgency. His movements grew messier, more desperate, the slap of skin hitting skin echoing on the lab’s walls.
“Look at you. Taking me so well...” Viktor whispered, leaning forward and pulling Jayce’s shirt and vest up with one hand just enough to lick a long stripe at the sweat-slick skin of his back. “You love it, don’t you? Being used like this.”
Jayce nodded frantically, the motion jerky and uncoordinated. He moaned something unintelligible around the tie still stuffed in his mouth, eyes squeezed shut, body trembling violently.
Viktor threw his head back against the chair’s backrest, biting down on his lower lip to stifle the series of helpless moans escaping his throat. The pace became brutal and frantic, making his control slip with every passing second.
“Right there.” He managed. “So —hah— so good, Jayce. Keep- keep going.”
And Jayce dared to slow down, glancing over his shoulder again. He spat the red tie out of his mouth and gave Viktor a pleading look, cheeks wet with tears and spit dripping down his chin. “Viktor, please, please, please, I can’t hold it anymore. Please, I need to-”
“Lean back on me.”
Jayce didn’t even hesitate for a second. He adjusted his position, his hand steady on the lower part of the chair as he shifted to sit more upright. His other arm slid behind Viktor's shoulders, fingers gently brushing the nape of his neck.
“Can I…” He began, voice shy, almost a whisper. “Can I touch you?”
Viktor looked at him through his lashes, barely able to contain himself, the anticipation seeping into every fiber of his being. “Yes. Gods, yes, Jayce, yes.”
Then, large fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close. He felt a soft tug before Jayce started riding him again, this time dropping in an almost vertical angle, making them both whine as they looked into each other’s eyes.
“Touch me.” Jayce begged. “Please. Please, V, please, let me come, Gods, please.” He let his fingers sink deeper into the soft brown strands, holding onto Viktor for dear life. He looked at him with pleading eyes, full of tears, not a single rational thought behind his blown out pupils. “I’ll be good. I swear. Please, I need it so bad, I really can’t take it anymore-”
Viktor pulled out his hand, swiftly wrapping it around Jayce’s aching and leaking erection, and began to stroke him in tight, messy movements. “I’m going to come.” He warned, getting a broken cry from Jayce in response. “Gonna fill you up and then, only then, you’ll be allowed to come, understand?”
“Yes. Fuck. Yes, yes, yes, please, Viktor…!”
“Shit.” Viktor whined, holding him tight, already feeling a creeping numbness spreading through all his limbs. “Coming-”
“Kiss me.”
A sharp, raw plea came out from Jayce’s mouth, catching Viktor off guard. For a fleeting instant, there was a short pause, but then, almost immediately, Viktor’s lips found Jayce’s. Their mouths collided in a messy, desperate kiss, tongues and teeth crashing together as they reached the peak of their shared orgasm, moaning into each other’s mouths.
For a minute, the world seemed to blur around them. The air between them was thick, their breaths slowly evening out as they held each other. They stayed there, breathing softly against each other’s lips, their bodies still, eyes closed as they regained their composure.
After a few seconds, Viktor pressed a small, gentle kiss to Jayce’s lips and murmured, “You good?”
Jayce, still catching his breath, smiled faintly, his voice a little raspier than usual. “Better than ever.”
They both chuckled softly, the laughter bubbling up from a place of release, of comfort in the silence that stretched between them. Viktor, still gazing at Jayce, gave him another gentle kiss on the jaw before he said, “Jayce…”
“Hm?”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
The man blinked, caught off guard. “Oh! Oh, shit, yeah, sorry.” He muttered, slowly pulling back and wincing at the sensation. He stood up with shaking legs and leaned against the table for support.
Viktor watched him with a faint smile, his expression instantly shifting when he caught the mess on Jayce’s shirt, tie, and vest, painted with several milky thick ropes. “Wow.” He said, genuinely shocked. “That- that was a lot, huh?”
Jayce looked down at himself, his chest still rising and falling with each breath. He let out an awkward laugh, the sound shy but sincere. “Yeah, I- I kinda made a mess.” He admitted, still panting. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t- You know, uh… Yeah.”
Viktor’s lips curved into a playful grin, his chuckle soft but warm. “Sorry.” He replied, his tone light but affectionate. “I guess that’s my fault.”
The moment stretched out for a few beats. They just exchanged a knowing smile, their shared laughter still hanging in the air. Then, Viktor shifted his gaze, his voice taking on a more grounded tone:
“Why don’t we clean up a bit and head home together?”
Jayce’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, his smile widening. “Sounds great.” He nodded, his voice laced with a hint of excitement.
Jayce started to slowly peel off his clothes to clean them up, and Viktor watched him for a moment, an appreciative gleam in his eyes, before he shifted in his chair. He looked down at himself, his expression thoughtful. “You know what?”
Jayce paused, raising an eyebrow as he tugged off his vest. “What?”
“I guess this is a nice chair after all, huh?”
Jayce couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Told you! Sturdy, isn’t it?” He teased, a genuine, carefree sound escaping him.
Viktor chuckled softly, a fond look crossing his face. “Most definitely.”
As they continued to clean their mess up, the weight of everything that had transpired seemed to settle around them. Viktor’s thoughts drifted, his gaze resting on Jayce, who was still adjusting to his surroundings, every movement radiating something more than just physical exhaustion. In that instant, Viktor realized that while Piltover could take things from him —his time, his focus, even his sense of identity— it could never truly take Jayce. Not in the way that Viktor had come to know him. The Jayce Viktor held close, the one who was his, was something that couldn’t be touched by anything outside of this shared space.
And for Viktor, that thought was enough.
That was worth more than anything.