Chapter Text
In the end, coming together wasn’t some cataclysmic shift of paradigm. No trial wrought from fire or universe splitting open beneath his fingers.
It was hushed as all soft vows, tucked away between moments, like the pages of a treasured book pushed tight. A secret for them each to keep. It was honey soft in its arrival; dripping peach kisses speckled over warm skin, venerable in its lateness, long overdue as the setting sky in summer.
Soft hands over mouths, grappling, teeth and puckered flesh. Blood weeping from his nose. Stained tissues and soft ‘here’s, let me help’s, I’ve got you’s,’.
Viktor didn’t know it was real at first.
Waking up to crusting blood on the sheets, caked brown like burned chocolate. He knew it must be on his face too, stained and pooled into his pores.
Jayce sat over him with a damp cloth in hand. His brow furrowed and mouth tight.
“Let me,” he whispered, dabbing at the blood under Viktor’s nose.
Viktor hadn’t wiped the sleep from his eyes when he first felt Jayce’s breath ghost over him. But this was okay, wasn’t it? What they did. Pressed too tight so he knew he couldn’t break.
They were in his bed, that was right. They had slept here together. And he had had a nosebleed overnight.
The cloth brushed into him, wiping away his body’s weakness and yet he looked at Jayce, unable to feel ashamed in his vulnerability. His humanity.
Jayce wiped him clean and when he was done, he threw the cloth aside, pulling close.
Viktor couldn’t move, he was frozen by sad eyes. Chained in place. Jayce’s breath over his lips was the closest to a sacred experience Viktor had ever reached.
Their noses were scant inches apart, and Viktor thought he could calculate the curved slope of Jayce’s eyelashes if they stayed just like this. He could take the math, write it down, enshrine and preserved it forevermore. The world would fall on their knees and thank him for it.
He knew this as truth.
Dizzy, he reached up. Viktor trailed a finger over Jayce’s cheek. Jayce pressed into it with a shiver, chasing the paper-soft touch.
Viktor could only see the world trailed through molasses. His infinitely clever and selfish brain doing all it could to hold the moment. Savour it as one would a final breath of air.
“You can stop me,” Jayce said, his eyes on Viktor’s lips.
“I don’t want to,” Viktor replied.
Jayce’s lips caught on his and Viktor wondered if he could taste the blood.
A metallic first kiss, how fitting for his crooked-cornered body, propped and propelled by steel and pins. But, if Jayce could taste it he must like it, sucking at Viktor's bottom lip with a hint of teeth.
Jayce’s hot breath across his wet lips, before recapture, coming home once more.
Viktor let out a shiver. He could feel his leg ache.
Other parts of him ached, too.
Jayce licked a hot trail to his neck, lapping at the skin there. The soft caress of a wave crashing over and over on Viktor, the heat warming him to his bones.
Then Jayce’s hand was in his hair, and Viktor could hear noises that could only be coming from him. A whimpered moan in Jayce’s ear as he could feel strong fingers, glorious, tug at him.
Jayce was half over him, propped up on his arms so as not to crush him, but still rocking into him, a hard length pressed against Viktor’s sharp hip. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but the way Jayce moaned let him believe otherwise.
Viktor’s soft kneading hands on his hips, Jayce rose to meet them. Slipping off his clothing, Viktor’s hands greedily slipped to his waist.
Curling around the length there, he knew he could live off of Jayce’s stuttered breath, the hitch before an exhale. The whine caught, knotted in the back of his throat.
He could exist forever if only on moments like this.
If he was to be greedy, there was no sense to be found in half measures. He was a fissure rat after all, he knew the curves of hunger. Then let him feast, let him consume. As much as Jayce could give, Viktor would take without thanks.
Rubbing him steadily, Viktor watched as Jayce’s eyes rolled back in his head. The vestiges of pleasure tugging his expression into a snarl of satisfaction.
Viktor could feel the meat of Jayce’s thigh thrown over his own withered bone-thin leg. Toes curling against his calf, twitching erratically.
“Viktor,” Jayce gasped, rutting against his hand.
Jayce was golden. Rightly so, the Golden Boy of Piltover. But they had missed a step, on the ladder, Jayce was not just golden, he was divine.
Viktor could see it with every twitch of his lips, every bead of sweat across his forehead.
Viktor knew he was a man possessed. He couldn’t bring himself to care. If a demon was in the driving seat, let it steer him over this bridge again and again.
He wanted to wring Jayce out. Freeze them in time and study this moment forever. Push Jayce over the edge and laugh as he fell. Most of all, Viktor wanted to capture the prettiest shade of pink Jayce was turning, corrupted under exquisite duress.
A high whine was all the warning given.
Soft sunlight lips on him, Jayce poured over on the sheets between them, wretched name pulled devout from his lips.
Hot and sticky, Viktor could feel Jayce smeared across his hip.
Coming down slowly, Viktor listened to his breath level out.
“I meant to-,” Jayce started, articulating with a soft wave.
Viktor leaned over and capture his lips, vicious in his effort to silence him. Nothing in their experience should exist to be rewritten with want.
Pulling moans greedily from Jayce’s throat, he nipped at his lips and tugged his hair.
“Meant to?” He challenged.
“Want to,” Jayce said with a smile, “I want to make you feel good too.”
A tendon in Jayce’s jaw flexed and Viktor felt his soul leave his body.
“Then do so,” he said.
Viktor knew he would rise to the challenge, his golden boy so eager to please, so earnest, falling over himself to do his best. But yet there was something too sly about Jayce’s smile to call it pretty, something too beautiful to call it wicked, as he slid down to Viktor’s apex.
Tugging Viktor’s cock out, he held it firmly as he licked up the length of it, a gleam in his eyes. Viktor huffed above him, his hips jerking erratically at the novel attention.
Huddled over Viktor’s cock Jayce leant down and captured Viktor’s head in his lips. Hollowing his cheeks, he bobbed up and down, and Viktor grew weak as Jayce’s tongue slipped repeatedly over him.
He was used to his body failing, not his mind. But as Jayce took his cock deeper down his throat Viktor found even that eluded him.
The sensation was too much, he could feel it building in him, embarrassingly fast if it hadn’t been his first time.
He could feel something pull back within him, the receding tide-line before the tsunami.
“Jayce-,” he gasped.
Shifting against the pillows, he found Jayce’s hands clamp over his hips, pinning him to the bed.
“Jayce-, I’m going to-,” he panted, trying to warn him.
The way Jayce doubled down was criminal. Swirling his tongue over the head of Viktor’s cock he increased pressure, hollowing his cheeks and squeezing Viktor at his base.
“Fuck-,” Viktor cried out, rearing, a broken shard against his lips as he spilled.
Pulses of energy ran through him, down him, emptying himself in Jayce’s mouth-, Jayce’s mouth.
Viktor grabbed him by the chin, pulling him upwards and pressed their mouths together once more. He could taste bitter salt, but he equally didn’t care.
He needed to know that he could feel what Jayce felt, that Jayce could do the same.
Breaking away, Jayce’s looked at him, a shy smile on his lips.
“I’ve been waiting to do that since forever,” he said adoringly.
Viktor looked deeply into the eyes of the man he loved, a wolfish grin settling over his face.
“I’ve been waiting, eh, about two weeks,” he said.