Chapter Text
The realisation comes as they’re lounging on Jayce’s couch (in his very nice dorm room right here on campus, where Viktor now regularly stays the night because Jayce protests when he tries to walk back to the Last Drop past ten at night, which is very silly but also very cute and Viktor can’t find it in himself to argue), drinking experimental cocktails they’ve poured into some test-beakers that Jayce had lying around, and using dry-ice to make them smoke as though they’re drinking science experiments. They’re laughing, playing exploding kittens while their favourite lab-playlist runs in the background, and Viktor thinks: I never want to be without him.
He isn’t entirely sure how it happened, but Jayce has become as integral to his life as his morning coffee. He’s never had a friend like this before; Someone who is as considerate of him as Jayce is in a way that is neither overbearing nor infantilising, but simply speaks to how much he cares. It’s been barely half a year Jayce showed up at his lab, and somehow Viktor can no longer imagine what it would be like without Jayce in it. They talk near constantly, in the lab or otherwise. They barely spend a moment apart, and his IM chain with Jayce is more active than any other Viktor has ever had. It’s—well, it’s nice, actually. Viktor didn’t really think he needed this kind of friend.
And perhaps he still doesn’t need one, but he wants one. It’s nice.
Sometimes Viktor thinks he knows Jayce better than he knows himself. He knows the way he laughs when he’s had too much to drink, just a little too loud, but endearing as always. He knows the clench in Jayce’s jaw that means he hasn’t had enough caffeine, knows the twitch of his eyebrow that means he’s stuck on a problem, knows which fond smile is reserved for a message from Caitlyn, and which chuckle mean’s Viktor is going to get some stupid meme in his inbox any second now. He knows the sigh that means Jayce is tired, and that one smile that means he’s secretly sad. They’ve talked the night away about their families, their history, their childhood hurts. He knows Jayce’s fears, his deepest wishes, his hopes for the future.
And Jayce, well, Jayce gets him in a way few others ever have. He knows Viktors very dreams, which he doesn’t part with easily, knows his ambitions. Shares them, even. He knows when Viktor’s leg is hurting by the sound of his cane hitting the floor at a volume just above average, or when the cold is too much and Viktor needs the heat turned up to a decadent 23C. He thinks Viktor doesn’t know he knows these things, but he does. And where if it were anyone else it would feel like condescension, with Jayce it never does. It just feels like care. Like he matters.
Jayce laughs at Viktors dry, cutting jokes. He knows when to offer a hand to stabilise him, but also when to keep his distance and let Viktor figure himself out. He can tell Viktor’s mood at a glance and never fails to make him smile, even if it is by making an absolute fool of himself for Viktor’s amusement.
Since they finished their first article and sent it in for peer review, along with the finger-prosthesis prototype they spent many a long night perfecting (because Jayce’s mom lost two of her fingers on a ski-trip years ago, and he wanted to help), Jayce calls him ‘partner’. Viktor, despite relentlessly teasing Jayce about being a sap about it, never wants him to stop.
And so, as they sit laughing on the couch drinking their aggressively green, smoking concoctions, Viktor is forced to come to two equally surprising conclusions; One: he is not getting over this crush any time soon, if ever. He’s never really fallen in love like this before — couldn’t afford it much, when he was younger, and was too preoccupied with work for most of his time at university to consider romance — but this feels… irrevocable. It isn’t a crush, anymore, not really. The feelings he has for Jayce are too big for a crush. Which leads him to number two: it doesn’t really… matter. In the grand scheme of things, he doesn’t really care whether Jayce returns his more romantically inclined feelings or not (it would be nice, but not required), because regardless of what kind of feelings Jayce has for him, Viktor can tell they’re just as strong as his own.
He’s not used to being so sure of someone else, of their loyalty and affection. He hasn’t ever really been before, but he knows. He knows that they have found in one another someone to depend on, to share a life with. In what way? That’s still up for debate, but that’s fine. As long as he is greeted in the lab by Jayce every day, that’s enough for him. If he also gets to kiss him, that’d be a fun bonus, but it’s hardly a requirement.
They know each other, through and through, and even if it is only ever as friends, that is special to Viktor, special and precious, in a way he never wants to jeopardise. He certainly isn’t going to risk what they have for the nebulous idea of what could be. It’s a simple cost-benefit analysis, after all. What he could lose isn’t worth what he’d gain.
So if Jayce, for example, wanted to kiss Mel Medarda, then Viktor could live with it. Won’t ever stand in his way or make a fuss. It’d hurt a bit, certainly, but it’s not like Viktor isn’t used to a low background hum of pain in his life. It’d be worth it.
Jayce, who is definitely a little bit drunk now, spills some of his cocktail onto the deck of exploding kittens (a truly ridiculous name for a game, but Jayce likes it) and dissolves into giggles, leaning heavily against Viktor’s good side. Viktor smiles and plucks the drink out of his hands.
“I think perhaps it is time for bed, Jayce.”
“You’re probably right.” Says Jayce, stumbling to his feet, still grinning, “C’mon, gimme your hand V, lemme pull you up.”
“Jayce. You are drunk. You will drop me.”
“I would never! Take that back!”
He drags Viktor to his feet without further discussion, and they bicker about it all the way to the bedroom, where Jayce has an honest-to-God foldout bed set up for him. When they’re finally settled and Viktor’s eyes fall closed, it is that thought that stays with him as he drifts off.
It’d be worth it.
~
Despite his newfound self-awareness that he can’t imagine his life without Jayce in it, there are still plenty of ways in which the man drives him up the wall. And one of these ways is that he is, unfortunately, a deeply social creature in ways Viktor simply is not.
One of the consequences of becoming friends with Jayce is that Viktor has a lot less time to himself now, by which he doesn’t necessarily mean his time at the lab. If he needs to shut the world out there he can simply put in a pair of headphones and Jayce will know not to disturb him.
No, it’s that Jayce cannot seem to understand that Viktor really doesn’t want to socialise with the other PhD’s, and that he certainly doesn’t want to go to the weekly ‘PhDrinks’ (they think they’re so funny) that the Ms. Medarda organises on behalf of the faculty.
Standing around in a corner watching his fellow PhD’s get progressively more drunk on red wine that is doubtlessly too good to be thrown back the way it is, is not his idea of a good time. He’ll have the occasional drink, certainly, but preferably from a beaker and not a wineglass, and preferably in the company of one single other person, not a room of them.
And yet when Jayce pouts and tells him he wants to hang out more, Viktor relents. He’s starting to realise that if Jayce asks something of him, that is simply an inevitability.
At first, nobody really seems to notice. He’s pretty good at blending with the décor, if he so choses, so he spends quite a few parties simply observing from the sidelines as Jayce gets him a refill whenever his glass looks even remotely empty.
(How Jayce even notices he has drained his glass is a mystery—the man can be on the opposite side of the room one moment, and standing next to Viktor with a new lemonade or juice the next.)
At some point though, Jayce’s consistent returns to his side inevitably draw their peers’ attention. Jayce is popular, which is no surprise, and so his absences from conversation are felt. Which means that people notice Viktor, in his corner. Which means, in turn, that some of them start to seek him out. To ‘chat’, because he looks ‘lonely’ (if he has to hear it from one more person he might whack them with his cane). He would tell them he has no interest in talking, but then Jayce would pout. So he tries to behave.
Tonight is, to Viktors great regret, a PhDrinks night. Viktor is standing against a wall, nursing his lemonade and watching the proceedings, as Jayce flits about the room, smiling at this person, chatting with the next. Ms. Medarda is at his side, her hand on his arm as it so often is. Yes, Mel Medarda has made her interest in Jayce abundantly clear, on numerous occasions, but Jayce doesn’t seem to have noticed at all (how such a smart man can be so oblivious to flirting is truly a mystery).
Of course, it could be that he’s letting her down easy by pretending not to notice, but that seems entirely out of character for someone as honest and impulsive as Jayce. He’d probably think that cruel, to let someone continue to take liberties if he wasn’t comfortable with it. In a way, it’s almost funny. Of course, there is the eternal undercurrent of jealousy that Viktor feels when she puts her hands all over him in ways that make something inside Viktor hiss hands off, mine (but that he knows how to quash perfectly fine), but it there is amusement to be found in seeing her flirting hit something of a brick wall.
He’s not sure if he hopes that Jayce buys a clue or that he stays oblivious. He wants Jayce to be happy, and if Mel Medarda would make him happy then Viktor wants him to have what he wants. They would be disgustingly perfect together, of course; they are both incredibly smart, incredibly beautiful human beings who share the ability of making other people smile. There’s no doubt that together they’d be able to open any door, reach any dream. And how could Viktor begrudge him that.
(He can’t, is the answer, as he has already established. And yet the jealousy does remain. A foolish emotion. Unproductive.)
Jayce and Ms. Medarda step out of view, chatting with another student whose name he’s forgotten, and Viktor takes a sip of his drink. Perhaps he can slip out soon, as Jayce seems to be content with his company. His leg is starting to ache and he’s ready to be away from people. This is, of course, when fucking Salo decides to saunter up and strike up a conversation. He is accompanied by one of Professor Grayson’s PhD students, Marcus Something, Viktor wasn’t exactly paying attention during introductions and the man is usually pretty silent.
“Viktor! We really don’t see enough of you at these nights, how good to see you! Looking fabulous, too, what a fun shirt.”
It does not take a genius to know when he is being mocked, and Viktor is arguably a genius. He just about manages not to roll his eyes. His shirt is old. It’s one of only two dress-shirts he has, and it’s faded and just a little bit frayed. It’s also bright blue, and Viktor is fond of it.
“Thank you, you look quite wonderful yourself.” He says, tone dripping in sarcasm Salo probably won’t even pick up on. God he’s tired.
Salo opens his mouth, no doubt to find some other unoriginal and uncreative way to insult him, when Ms. Medarda cuts in, showing up out of seemingly thin air.
“Viktor, darling! Would you be so kind as to join me, Lest has a question that I absolutely don’t know what to do with but I know you’ll know what she’s asking!” She says, smiling as though they’re the best of friends and slipping her arm through his.
He blinks at her, a little dumbly. Salo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, which Viktor will remember to find hilarious later, when he’s not so confused.
“Oh! Hello boys, sorry to be stealing Viktor from you!” Says Ms. Medarda, already tugging him away and into the direction of Jayce, and the student Viktor now remembers is called Lest.
“Darling?” he asks, because he can’t not.
She doesn’t let him go, but she does crack a slight rueful smile.
“Sorry, sorry, I know you don’t like that sort of thing but I was making a point. We really couldn’t let that rat get his hands on you for the evening, not after he’s been complaining about last week’s ethics discussion all night, and not when there’s much better company over here.”
“I… am truly not trying to be rude, Ms. Medarda, but why on earth do you care? We are not friends.”
She stops, briefly, and looks at him. There’s a look in her eyes he can’t place.
“Viktor,” she says, something soft and hesitant in her voice that surprises him, something a little hurt, “I’ve been hanging out in your lab every other day for months. Of course we’re… I mean I thought we were friends? Are—are we not friends?”
Oh.
Hm.
Perhaps there is something about this whole socialisation thing that Viktor could improve on.
“I. Well, you were there for Jayce, not me.” He says, suddenly feeling unsteady, and finds himself looking away from her gaze. It’s kinder than he imagined it to be.
“Well yes, at first, but I thought—well, of course if you don’t want—”
“No! I do!” He says, cutting her off before she can say something he’s only now realising isn’t true at all, “I would of course be honoured.”
“Well. Then you may start by calling me Mel, please, I’ll beg if I need to.”
He laughs and starts walking, her arm still looped in his. “Of course, Mel. And thank you for the save.”
“You’re very welcome, Viktor.”
Apparently he has two friends, now.