Work Text:
If there's a thing Hextech has taught Jayce, is that programming a machine is very similar to casting a spell, in the sense that one needs to be very careful with their wording. Machines take to instructions very literally, often looking for the shortest path to fulfilling the request—even if it is not the one the engineer had intended, leading to a series of unforeseen consequences that were hilarious to witness if they happened to someone else, not so much if they happened to you.
He knew Viktor was half-machine nowadays, but it still surprised him to find out that he worked in much the same way.
He had, technically, told Viktor he could come to his place whenever. However, by "his place" he mainly meant his workplace, that is, the forge, and by "whenever" he truly meant whenever, preferably at night, but he had expected him to have the courtesy of knocking first, if at least to spare him the indignity of not receiving the visit in his pajama pants and nothing else.
As it was, he had been in the middle of sleepily fetching himself some wee-hours-of-the-morning, pick-me-up coffee when he discovered the sight of the Machine Herald reading the newspaper in his kitchen table and helping himself to some coffee as well, the steaming mug—Jayce cringed when he saw it was one from the Progress Day merchandise collection he’d kept hidden in the top shelf—hanging above his head by the hexclaw, looking every bit as comfortable as if he was in his own damn house.
"Coffee's just brewed," he said, face still obscured by the paper.
"Thanks?" At least he'd made enough for two cups, Jayce thought as he poured the drink into a plain white mug. Although he could’ve definitely done with a double shot, he mused. He’d been awake for too many hours, then decided to go to bed, then had an epiphany and worked for a few hours more. He could definitely use some more energy.
"Has science found a match?" Viktor read. "Piltover's Most Eligible Bachelor has been seen in the company of a mysterious woman. Has someone finally managed to steal the workaholic's heart?"
Jayce turned around from the counter and walked the few steps that separated him from Viktor to read over his shoulder. He recognized the logo on the top, one of the city’s most unsavory newspapers. "Didn't take you as a tabloids reader, V." He really meant to read the headline—and if the soft breath against his ear made Viktor shiver, then that was his prerogative.
Viktor folded the paper, clearing his throat. The tips of his ears were a deep red. If that was from the closeness or from the teasing, Jayce couldn’t tell, but he was pleased by the effect nonetheless. It was a shame the man still had his back to him: from the unmodulated voice and the lack of straw in the mug, he figured Viktor wasn’t wearing a mask, and the prospect of seeing his face again made Jayce’s heart stutter a little. Not only because Viktor was very handsome—although it definitely played a part—but because he went to Jayce’s house and took off his mask, knowing full well Jayce would eventually come in and see him unmasked. Expecting him to.
The number and type of items of armor in Viktor’s body at any given point were a language of their own, one in which Jayce was still not fluent, but he was nothing but an avid learner.
"I'm not, usually. But the picture in the cover caught my eye." Jayce leant closer against him to get a good look at it, hearing the telltale sound of Viktor’s cooling fans kicking into gear to prevent his body from overheating. Oh, so it was the closeness then. He focused on the paper, figuring he’d have to keep the ruse, even as he placed a hand on Viktor’s shoulder to hear the whirr increase in frequency.
Sure enough, it was a picture of him, with... Cait's coworker. How disappointing. He had gone to see his friend, she hadn't been there, and the brief exchange where he'd been informed as such had apparently been immortalized for posterity.
"Huh," he said. It must've been a really slow day at the editorial office, if that was what made the frontpage.
Viktor turned around then, staring at him with piercing amber eyes that were no doubt meant to be intimidating, but the intention was undermined somewhat by the fact their lips were now so close they were almost touching, and that made focusing on anything else incredibly hard. “Anything you want to tell me?”
"Jealousy doesn't suit you," Jayce answered, taking the seat beside Viktor before his thoughts derailed irrevocably. He did have self-control, contrary to popular belief. It was just easier to exercise it now that he could be certain that the chance he’d let go of would not be the last.
"I am not jealous," oh he was. Without the mask, Viktor was a lost cause, his emotions unguarded and on full display for Jayce to see. A work of art. "I have no grounds to be, given that we haven't discussed the exclusivity terms of this..." He trailed off with a dismissive hand, taking a sip of his coffee.
It was obvious he was embarrassed at having been caught, and he was attempting to get out of the conversation before digging his own grave deeper. But Jayce was feeling playful, and honestly a little pissed to have this conversation half-naked and without notice, so he feigned ignorance just to see how far it’d take him. "Of this what? I don't follow."
"Do not make me say it."
"I'm afraid I will have to, Viktor."
Viktor pursed his lips, searching for the least humiliating word. "This… partnership." He finally settled.
"For the project I mentioned? I have never heard of exclusivity clauses in scientific collaborations." He could barely maintain a poker face.
"You know damn well it is not that." Viktor’s voice moved from mild annoyance to thinly-veiled threat. It should not have been half as hot as it was, but Jayce was already well aware that there might be something seriously wrong with his dick when it came to Viktor.
"Say it then. To double-check." Jayce was threading dangerous territory for someone within range of the death ray, but he was fairly sure Viktor wouldn't shoot over something this petty. Or at least he counted on him hesitating long enough for him to make a run for cover.
"This..." his face contorted like it pained him just to say it, "this romantic and sexual relationship.” Jayce had to hide his laugh behind the mug. There really wasn’t a more awkward way to put it, or Viktor would’ve found it already. “Happy?"
Jayce was, but he felt he could still get away with more. He’d never quite learnt to quit while he was ahead. "But I thought 'romantic-and-sexual-relationships' involved feelings. That can’t be, Machine Herald, given that you-"
"I will kill you in the most gruesome of ways."
"That does not answer my question." It did, by omission, which was as closest as he had expected to get.
Viktor ran his hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “Are we exclusive or not?" He snapped.
The question took Jayce off-guard, given that he’d never considered it to be up for debate in the first place.
They were, at least where Jayce was concerned. It was honestly a little endearing that Viktor had even entertained the thought of his sex life comprising more than his trysts with him and his own right hand, let alone the romance department. As if he had had the time, the energy, or the inclination to pursue something with someone else. Denying still being in love with your ex-turned-nemesis was a full time job, and he was a politician and an inventor, on top. His days simply did not have those many hours.
The idea of Viktor having found someone else, however... he wasn't thrilled, to put it mildly. Viktor had so many walls up at any given moment—he was covered in metal, for fuck’s sake—that Jayce had been under the impression that seeing him open and vulnerable was a privilege reserved to him only, and one that came very sparingly and in small doses. He had to wait with bated breath for Viktor to allow him the opportunity, such a special gift that he hadn’t even entertained the thought of it being bestowed upon someone else.
Although perhaps he’d raised the question because he had been seeing someone, and ever the pragmatic, he wanted to have it all covered before their thing progressed further. Imagining it—an anonymous hand caressing Viktor’s unmasked face, touching the bits of biological skin that still survived in his body, making him sigh in that sweet way Viktor only did for him—made something hot and nasty unfurl in Jayce’s gut. He had no right to be jealous, either, as Viktor had so kindly explained, but he was. Oh, he was.
"Do you want us to be?"
"I believe that mankind's greatest gifts are meant to be shared, for the benefit of the collective." He paused. “I'm afraid your penis is not one of them. I do not wish to share." His voice had dropped an octave at that, and fuck if that didn't send a thrill down Jayce's spine, despite the jab.
"And are you? A gift, that is." Jayce gritted his teeth at the thought of Viktor being for the collective in any way, shape, or form. Zaun already had his work, his intellect and his allegiance, what else could they want?
“What I am not is Piltover's Most Eligible Bachelor." Oh, so that had hit a nerve, simply. It was a relief, knowing Viktor hadn’t been with another man. “I have not been with anyone, if that is what you’re implying.” Good.
"Oh Vitya, you're really jealous." He couldn’t say he wasn’t thrilled with this new development. “That’s endearing.” And hot.
"As I said, I had no grounds to be. From now on, however, I would ask you to abstain from meeting romantically with this woman, or Miss Ferros, or Mister October from that charity calendar-"
Jayce lost it at that, a full-on belly laughter Viktor seemed absolutely not pleased with. "Vitya," he said, wiping his tears, "how many gossip magazines have you been reading?" He suspected the answer was ‘many’, since the rumor about him and Mister October was at least a year old. Which made him wonder if Viktor had caught wind of his own pin-up calendar, the one he’d done for charity this year- he’d have to ask.
"Enough of them," and fuck if that wasn't the cutest pout. Jayce wanted to kiss it right off.
So he did, because he could. Wasn’t that an exhilarating thought.
Viktor practically melted against him, leaning into the contact so hard that Jayce barely had to apply pressure with his arm to have him sitting on his lap in one swift motion.
"There hasn't been anyone, I promise.” He breathed against his mouth. “And there will not be."
"Good." Viktor’s voice was so low, barely a growl, there was no way he didn’t know what it did to Jayce. Especially when sitting on his lap. Viktor shifted slightly, the barest hint of friction. Oh, he knew, the absolute tease. “Not even Mister October?”
“That was a rumor, V.” An, admittedly, founded one, given that he’d briefly entertained the possibility in the gala where they’d met. But it had lasted all of five minutes, until he’d opened his mouth to say something that had turned off Jayce completely, Jayce had taken another sip of his drink and it had started to taste like jumping the gates to Zaun was a good idea, so he’d reasoned that his judgement was not at its best and refrained from making any further decisions for the night.
“He was handsome. Pretty face, broad shoulders, freckles, the works. Real arm candy.”
Jayce stole another kiss from him, just because he could. “Yeah. I don’t do arm candy.” He would’ve done it, in the past, if Viktor had gone with him to those kinds of events. Then again, it was hardly eye candy if one was truly, deeply enamored with the person, and not simply using their looks for social status.
“And what do you do, Man of Progress?” His hands were on his neck, tracing shapes with the tip of his metal gloves that were proving to be very distracting.
He pretended to think about it, if only to gain his wits. “Tall, lean, half-metal, infuriatingly brilliant, lots of emotional baggage…” He froze. “Wait. How do you know about the freckles. Did you buy the calendar?”
“Maybe so.”
“Should I be jealous?” he teased.
“Hardly,” Viktor scoffed. “Vain pilties are of little appeal to me.” Yet he said that nuzzling against Jayce, a certified vain piltie, which undermined his point somewhat.
“Why buy it then?”
“It was for charity, was it not?” Only about 20 percent of the total earnings, discounting the production cost, which was laughable.
“You hardly seem the type to be moved by Piltover’s attempt at image laundering.”
“Will you just drop it?” There had to be something there, else Viktor wouldn’t be as jumpy.
“Obviously not.” He lightly scratched Viktor’s scalp, and the man hid his face against Jayce’s neck, clinging to the back of the chair like he feared he’d melt into the floor if he didn’t. It made Jayce want to keep touching him forever, not that he’d needed much prompting to begin with.
“I… may have been under the impression that you appeared as well,” he finally admitted.
“That’s…” Cute. Endearing. Hot. “Viktor, you’ve seen me naked already.” More than naked: they’d done things to each other that the standard buyer of the calendar could not begin to imagine.
“And I wanted to have a picture of you without a shirt on. Those statements are not mutually exclusive.” Jayce had to kiss him at that, there was no way he could have stopped himself.
“I trust that you expect this exclusivity to go both ways,” Viktor stated, after they’d parted for air.
“You know me,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Viktor’s ear, if only to have an excuse to lean closer and whisper “I’m a greedy Piltover councilman.” Viktor mumbled in annoyance at that. “I’m used to getting what I want, and not having to share what belongs to me.”
“Perhaps someone should- should teach you some manners.” Jayce bit back a remark about how Viktor was particularly ill-suited for the task, at least in his current predicament, when Viktor’s butterfly kisses on his neck turned into a little bite that had him stifling a groan.
“Sharing is caring?”
“Mhmm.”
Jayce could get used to having Viktor in his lap at all times. It would make working a bit harder, but nothing a little ingenuity couldn’t solve. “I take it that you’ve changed your mind about sharing me, then?” He teased.
“No.” The force with which Viktor stiffened surprised Jayce. He suddenly found himself with the claw grabbing him from the chin and forcing him to stare at a pair of scorching yellow eyes. “I am not a caring individual, Defender. You’re mine, and mine only.”
Fucking gods, he was Viktor’s. Especially if that claw moved lower and pressed on his throat just a little, not enough to halt the airflow but enough to make a statement. “Yours, Vitenka. Always yours.”
Viktor bit his lip, but the little whine had already been audible. Jayce grabbed his ass, having never been more annoyed by the metal armor, and pressed the machine herald harder against his body. The pressure on Jayce’s chin disappeared, the claw vanishing somewhere behind Viktor’s back, much to his disappointment.
“And you’re also mine. Exclusively. I’ll cover you in hickeys for the world to see, if that’s what it takes.” Jayce didn’t know how that could work, given that not a single centimeter of skin was visible on Viktor when clothed, but it seemed like his partner had liked the idea, judging by the heated kiss and the hands that were trailing all over his body like he wanted everything at once. “Clear?”
“Clear, darling. Now I believe you had a project you needed my assistance with.”
He did. He also did have several people scheduled to work at the forge at dawn that he’d have to give an impromptu off day to, and a few (blessedly non-vital) meetings he’d have to cancel. And a hard-on that would have to be cold-showered away, although that was the least pressing matter when faced with the prospect of finally getting out of the development bottleneck. “Give me half an hour to clear my schedule and get dressed?”
“Setbacks,” Viktor mumbled.
“V?”
“Hmm?”
“I can’t do any of that if you’re still on my lap.”
“Not my problem. Figure it out.”