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When Mel walks into the lab, Viktor is half-naked.
“Jayce isn’t here,” Viktor mutters distractedly. “He’s gone with the professor to talk to an investor.”
“You’re not wearing clothes,” Mel says archly, injecting just the right amount of condescension needed into her tone to get on Viktor’s nerves—it had taken months of experimentation to learn that. “Were you and Jayce enjoying yourselves before he left? I can’t imagine how that amounts to anything like proper lab safety.”
He shoots her a deeply irritated look. “I am wearing shorts, Councilor. And as uncouth as you might believe me to be, even I am above having sex in the lab.”
Mel tilts her head. “Are you?”
Viktor blushes, and he looks away sharply with an annoyed huff. Mel fights a smile. He wears his emotions on his face, and watching him navigate this awkward little triad they share for Jayce’s affections has been illuminating. She sees right through him. One couldn’t work in a lab with a competent, attentive partner and not have sexual fantasies in said lab.
“In case you haven’t noticed in your royal, temperature-controlled homes, Councillor,” Viktor continues, “it’s fucking hot outside. I don’t do well with the heat, and I’m doing whatever I can to stave it off. I’m not working with any dangerous materials at the moment. Rest assured, this lab isn’t deviating from expectations in any way.”
Mel’s eyebrows fly up to her hairline at the uncharacteristic swearing. She looks more closely at the sheen on Viktor’s chest, the edges of his spine support brace glistening with chest. Now that he’s mentioned it, Mel can feel the stickiness of the summer heat prickle under her armpits, at her hairline.
“You can’t turn down the heat?” she asks.
Viktor shakes his head. “We’re not sure what it’ll do to our control experiments as of yet.”
Mel nods. “Are your braces affected?”
Viktor pauses, expression smoothing into something inscrutable at the question. “Not much,” he says slowly, watching her uncertainly. “They’re made with a heat-resistant alloy.”
“Hm.” She looks around. “How long are you going to be working?”
“As long as I need to.”
“Mind if I join you?” Mel holds up a stack of folders. She’d been hoping for Jayce’s company as she worked through some reports, but Viktor and his muttering are equally helpful white noise, as she’s come to learn.
Viktor waves a hand at a chair nearby. Mel sinks into it and starts to read.
The afternoon melts into early evening, and Mel eventually stands with a sigh. Viktor shows no signs of stopping, still hunched over his microscope, hand a blur as he scribbles into his notebook.
Mel feels a sudden, childish urge to disturb him. It’s a feeling that only Viktor’s particular brand of snappishness can bring out in her. Jayce thinks it’s funny, and he only approves of it further when Mel manages to pull Viktor away from his work.
“You’re staring,” Viktor intones.
Mel takes that as her cue to walk towards him. “Tell me about what you’re working on.”
Viktor pushes up his goggles. “Hasn’t Jayce told you?”
“Jayce isn’t the only one working on this project,” Mel says. The words land with weight between them, strangely laden with meaning. Mel’s eyes meet Viktor’s.
He holds her gaze, then nods. He spends the next twenty minutes talking her through his current experiment, showing her the sketches of Hextech crystals under a magnified lens and his plans for further imaging and compositional analysis. He’s a vision when he talks about his research; like Jayce, passion lights up his eyes, his hands a blur as he gestures through his words.
“You know,” she says, leaning towards him. “You look just like Jayce when he talks about this work.”
Viktor blinks. “That is not surprising. With the amount of time we spend together, I am sure our mannerisms are rubbing off on each other.”
“Ah,” Mel says gravely, giving into her mischievous impulses. “Is this a confession to the aforementioned lab sex, then?”
Viktor expression switches from geniality to ire in the space between breaths, and Mel only maintains her poise through sheer force of will. “I am afraid that this blatant violation of rules will result in a thorough investigation of lab procedures—”
“Councillor, don’t you have Undercity citizens to terrorize?” Viktor snaps, standing up. “The door is that way.”
Viktor’s breath is hot against her lips, stale but strangely sweet. He glares into her eyes; while Mel’s taunts were soft and almost humorous, the heat and his exhaustion and his constant protection over perceived threats to his lab, given their history, have frayed his temper. She could take pity on him and leave.
But she stops, and does he. They stare at each other. Slowly, the glare on Viktor’s face turns into something less annoyed, but still as sharp. His eyes are—his pupils are getting bigger.
“It’s hot,” Mel says, nonsensical.
“It is,” Viktor says.
Mel doesn’t know who starts it. But she swoops forward, and so does he, and their mouths collide in a glorious clash of teeth and tongues. Mel bites his lip; he bites back. This is not gentle like the kisses she shares with Jayce; this kiss is mean, sharp, but no less passionate. As she winds her arms around him, the cool metal of his brace presses into her front, and she sucks in a gasp.
Somehow, they end up in the little bedroom attached to the lab, set up at Jayce’s insistence, since Viktor has a bad habit of spending nights here. Mel undoes her dress with quick fingers and lets it fall. She shifts backwards onto the bed as Viktor hurriedly piles pillows one side, then arranges himself to support his back and leg before leaning over her.
Then, ruthlessly, he slides his hand between her legs.
Mel inhales soundlessly, legs falling open as he strokes her, brushing her clit in maddening circles. Heat builds between their bodies, exhilarating and disorienting and wonderful, ratcheting up when Viktor’s fingers enter her.
“Wait,” Mel gasps, pushing at Viktor’s chest as a thought strikes her. “Wait. Are you even attracted to women?”
Viktor stiffens. He pulls back and gives Mel the flattest, most cutting look she’s ever received in her life.
Slowly, pointedly, still glaring, he curls the two fingers he has inside her and presses . Mel represses a shiver as sparks soar up her spine.
“I realize that you are not a scientist, Councilor,” he says, derision dripping from every syllable, “but surely even you can come up with a reasonable hypothesis to answer that question, given the data.”
Mel fights for her composure and lifts a shoulder in an elegant, careless shrug. “I fail to see how I have enough data at all.”
Viktor’s eyes narrow. He twists his fingers again, his thumb rubbing firmly against her clit, and this time, Mel can’t hold back her shudder. She exhales sharply as she clutches at his back, the metal of his brace warm against her fingers.
But she doesn’t make a sound. She’s not going to make it easy for him.
Viktor seems to realize this, and irritation flares hot in his eyes. He fastens his mouth to her neck and sucks at her pulse point, grazing it gently with his teeth, then harder. He moves lower, leaning more firmly against the pillows for support as he reaches her breast.
He looks up at her then, breathing hot air over her nipple. Mel twists her fingers in the sheets and fights the urge to buck up; her breasts are sensitive .
Viktor, curse his shrewd eyes, notices.
His mouth tilts up.
Mel only has the space to think, oh, shit , before his mouth closes hot and wet over one nipple and sucks . His free hand palms her other breast, rubbing at her nipple until it pebbles. At the same time, a third finger slides in, filling her up deliciously.
Mel gives up the fight and moans, long and loud, filling the quiet. She shakes, thighs trembling, arms clutching at Viktor and pulling him closer. He’s bony, but he’s warm and eager and small against her in a way that satisfies some unknown part of her. Her body is a live-wire, all electric impulses and nerve endings. Her stomach tenses, her breath coming out in high-pitched, almost-mewling gasps. Godsdamn him, he’s good, and she starts to rut against his hand, urging him on.
Viktor hisses and his hand pumps faster and faster, twisting each time to hit that spot inside her that makes her see stars. His thumb works furiously against her clit, alternating with the rhythm of his hand—scientist fingers, Mel thinks wildly, long, precise, unrelenting in their pursuit.
Heat builds and builds and builds and Mel writhes, cursing. Viktor lets out a low breath and in the next moment, he gently bites her breast and tugs.
“Fuck!” Mel says, the sound punched out of her, and she comes with a shout, clenching around his fingers as he works her through her orgasm.
As she catches her breath, Viktor makes a sudden, surprised sound. Mel doesn’t have to look down to know that the golden metal etched into her skin is glowing.
“Huh. Well,” Viktor says, smug with a touch of awe. He touches one line of metal along her leg with soft, curious fingers, the warm glow lighting up his face. “I believe, Councilor, that you have enough data now. And I see that you’re more than satisfied.”
Mel glowers at him. She needs to wipe that smug look off his face.
She gets up on one elbow and in a swift movement, she repositions them so that she pins Viktor back against the pillows, her weight draped over his chest. She pauses, then grabs another pillow to support the bend of his affected leg, watching a line in his forehead ease with relief.
Ignoring the comical shock on Viktor’s face, Mel primly slips her hand into waistband of his pants.
She pauses, watching Viktor closely. “Can I?”
Viktor’s eyes are wide. His pupils are blown even wider, swallowing the hazel of his irises. Mel wonders why he’s so surprised that she wants to return the favour—isn’t this how their little battles go? He lashes out, she fights back; she scoffs at him, he barks back; and off they go, over and over again. Once, they were bitter and hateful fights, causing each other and Jayce no small amount of stress, but now—well, Mel realizes, they’re fun. Few other people go toe-to-toe with her the way Viktor does, and she relishes the opportunities to exchange quips with him.
Mel waits for whatever is going through Viktor’s mind to work itself out. He gulps, then slowly nods.
Mel doesn’t waste a second.
She slips her under his underwear and brushes through the bush of hair at his entrance, feeling him twitch. She curls her fingers into the dripping folds of his cock, raising a self-congratulatory eyebrow at him. He grants her a slight roll of his eyes, and she grins.
Viktor’s eyelids slip shut as she works him, his long neck tipping back, and Mel nips at the sweet hollow of his throat. She licks a long line up to the underside of his jaw, tasting salt and sweat, smiling when his stomach flexes to hold back a moan.
A flush spreads down Viktor’s torso and up to his ears and cheeks, and Mel watches it deepen with rapt attention as she gently brushes the nub of his cock, her fingers spreading him open. His chest heaves in short, punctuated gasps, and she keeps an ear out for any sign of short breathing.
Mel sets an easy, unhurried pace, watching with satisfaction as Viktor’s lips go tight, arousal fighting against impatience. He’s clearly unwilling to ask her for anything aloud, even when he’s not quite getting what he needs. His hand moves down, and she blocks its path, looking back at him calmly when he cuts her a look.
“If you want something,” she murmurs lowly, “ ask me.”
Viktor’s face twists. For a moment, Mel genuinely thinks he’ll deny himself the pleasure of coming just to spite her. She holds back a laugh.
But when she presses into him just a little faster, a little rougher with her fingers, showing him exactly what he’s missing, he arches against the heel of her hand.
“ Fuck , please,” he rasps. “Faster, more, please, please, Mel.”
“There you go,” Mel says, a warm flutter in her belly at his use of her name. “As I said, you only had to ask.”
And Mel gives him exactly what he wants. She learns his cues, the way he breathes and moans and whimpers in response to how she rubs his cock, presses against his walls. His lips part, shiny and bitten raw, and Mel kisses him, wild and rough and perfect, burying her fingers in his hair and pulling .
He looks beautiful when he comes, back arching and tendons straining his neck, sweat rippling in a sheen across his skin, mouth open in a soundless yell of euphoria.
Mel shifts to lie by Viktor’s side. She wipes her fingers on the sheets and strokes his hair as she waits for him to regain himself. He takes a few long, deep breaths, then turns his head to meet her eyes.
For once, his guard is down, and Mel sees in his eyes what she’s come to realize she’s felt for him for months now—wry amusement, challenge, and a warm, growing affection.
“Next time,” Mel muses, “we should try my toys.”
Viktor’s mouth pulls upwards. “Next time,” he echoes, almost a purr, “we should try mine .”
“Next time,” says Jayce, hoarse, “maybe you could give a guy some warning? Or maybe an invitation?”
Viktor almost breaks his spine with how fast he sits up, face erupting into flames when he sees Jayce at the doorway. Mel doesn’t bother moving.
“Hello, darling,” she says lazily. “Enjoy the show?”
Viktor gapes at her. “You knew he was here?”
Mel laughs. “My armour is magic, Viktor. And sex isn’t the only time it glows.”
He’s blushing, poor thing, flustered in a way only Jayce can evoke in him. Mel can sympathize; there’s something about Jayce Talis and his warm, sweet eyes that makes her feel like a schoolgirl with her first crush.
“ Yes , I enjoyed the show,” Jayce says. His eyes are wide and delighted as he drinks them in. He looks as joyous as the day he told Mel about the success of his and Viktor’s experiments, as weightless as she thinks he must have felt floating about the room with his partner. “And I’m even happier you two were enjoying it.”
Viktor shoots Mel a glance. His smile is sweet, and Mel nods.
“We’re auditioning for another role,” Mel says.
“Would you like to join us?” Viktor finishes.
In unison, they lift inviting arms.
“Oh, this is the best day of my life,” Jayce breathes.
Mel can’t help but agree.