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Viktor storms in, the door silently shutting behind him. It’s been years since he dwelled on his illness, but he wants nothing more than to slam the door shut, to feel the weight of his foot as it claps against the floor. Instead, he walks, cane dragging against the floor in a leisurely pace. It’s- infuriating.
Jace doesn’t hear him come in, too busy beating a tempo out of a sheet of metal. it steals some of Viktor’s anger away: softens the blows of jealousy that have been wearing him down all morning. It is unlike Viktor to be jealous. He has not treasured much in his life, and has quickly learnt to accept that all good will eventually be stolen.
But Jace is horribly, terribly, perfectly, different. Viktor would not call him good. but he is Viktor’s- is he not? Who had saved Jace from expulsion? Who had cracked the code to Hextech with him? Who sees him in the morning and late at night and so often he feels like an extension of himself? He owns so many parts of Jace (covets them all, hoards them, yearns for them-) does this not make him his?
When Jace notices Viktor, leaning against his cane and watching him intently, he does not falter. Instead, he smiles wide:
“Viktor! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming down to the forge?” he coughs, a little awkward, a lot endearing, confused by the silence, “Did you need something?”
“Resign.”
Jace startles, “What- sorry? Resign?!”
“Yes, Jace, resign.” Viktor cannot help his tone, which is teetering between angry and mocking, but he feels sorry when he sees Jace flinch
“Come on Viktor, I can’t do that; think of how bad a day long job stint will look on my resume.” Jace looks at him hopefully, like he will chuckle and reveal this has all be a grand joke.
Viktor doesn’t laugh.
Jace watches him nervously, hands twitching around the hammer he’s seemingly forgotten he’s holding.
“Viktor? Are you okay? Look, you know I can’t resign, right? The council needs me.” he forces a smile “And who hasn’t dreamed of being a council member once or twice?”
“You are not a politician. You have never once wanted to be a politician. Tell me why I should belive you want this job and are not taking it out of a misplaced sense of-“ here, Viktor stops, mouth twisting like he knows he’s about to eat a very sour fruit, “responsibility.”
“Haven’t we created the tech which runs half the city?” Jace sets his mouth into a scowl, as if remembering he should be angry at Viktor’s presumptuous attitude, “Who are you to stop me from assuming responsibility for that?”
“That’s correct, we have. Then, why are you a council member, and not me, if they wanted a founder of Hextech?”
Jace stares at him, bewildered, some guilt seeping into his expression, “I’m- do you want to be a council member?”
“Not anymore than you,” Viktor replies, which seems to soothe Jace till he registers the implications of the retort. “Face it, Jace, they do not want you because you founded Hextech. They never would’ve considered letting me on the council. They want you because they believe you can be manipulated, and that the public will trust you. Are you really so eager to be a pawn, making decisions you do not want to make?”
Jace’s conviction seems to waver for the first time, but he presses on: “Look, just because they think they can manipulate doesn’t mean I’ll let them. I can do good as a council member.”
“Do you remember the first party council woman Medarda took you too?”
The question catches Jace off guard, but he has long grown used to Viktors seemingly disjointed streams of thought, “Yes, of course, why?”
“Do you remember how you told me that it was just a party? Do you remember how you said the only reason they wanted you there was to celebrate Hextech? Do you remember how quickly parties became places for her to show you off and have you make off putting deals with business scum?”
Viktor steps closer, and lets his cane fall in favour of clutching Jaces shoulder, “Because, Jace, I remember. I will not let it happen again.”
Viktors stares at him, decides if this is the end of their partnership he should go out with a bang, and kisses Jace.
For a moment, there is nothing but awful, terrifying stillness, before Jace drops the hammer and pulls Viktor closer. He kisses Viktor like he wants to consume him. He gasps, and Jace takes the opportunity to slip his mouth into Viktors searching for- something. Viktor hopes he never finds it, so that he never stops.
Eventually, Jace pulls away, but Viktor chases him, never mind the burning in his lungs that is begging him to take a fucking break. He has pushed his body much further for much less pleasing rewards.
“Holy shit,” Jace breathes, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on and confused at the same time.”
Viktor breathes out a chuckle, and then, filled with joy and the absurdity of the situation, laughs till he’s sure he would have collapsed if he did not have Jace as his personal column.
He lifts his head from where it’s resting on Jace’s neck and whispers into his ear: “I do not see what is so confusing about it, darling,” -Jace shudders at the pet name, and Viktor files this away to investigate later, because he is nothing if not a diligent researcher- “you are mine, and they are trying to steal you from me. They wish to corrupt you with their politics and force you into a mould you do not fit, but I will not let them.”
“Yours, am, I?” Jace asks, and Viktor hears the smile on his lips.
“Well. Statistically speaking, that is.”
Jace laughs, as if he thinks Viktor is joking, but Viktor supposes he can inform him of the very detailed charts he has on the matter later. For now, he lets Jace’s laughter rumble through him, and decides that no- he will not let them take this away.