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Viktor had been a hard worker his whole life. At twelve, his parents died mysteriously in a car crash, and he was forced into the system. Viktor went through home after home, never finding a place he truly fit into. By the time he landed at the Zaun orphanage, he had given up on feeling at home anywhere. Yet, something about the place - perhaps the chaotic charm of its mismatched furniture or the scrappy resilience of the other kids - felt oddly comforting. And for the last five years, Viktor had lived under the protection of Cecil B. Heimerdinger.
“What do you mean, director?” Viktor asked, his voice soft, dancing across the air. His words carried a blend of curiosity and caution, as if afraid to hope.
“I mean I found you a scholarship, my boy!” Director Heimerdinger said, beaming.
The director was a small man with an utterly unique sense of fashion. His colorful, custom-designed outfits clashed brilliantly with his surroundings, and his blonde hair spiked wildly above his head. He always insisted he was “trying to stay hip,” a claim that drew a mix of groans and laughter from the boys. Despite his eccentricity-or perhaps because of it-they adored him. Heimerdinger had a knack for making them feel seen, even in a place as run-down and forgotten as the Zaun orphanage.
The orphanage itself was, respectfully, a dump. The roof leaked on rainy days, the furniture wobbled precariously, and the walls were so thin you could hear the whispers of the city outside. But Heimerdinger always said, “A good heart can make any place a home,” and for Viktor, that sentiment had begun to ring true.
“A scholarship,” Viktor repeated, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. “To where?”
“To Piltover Academy,” Heimerdinger said, his voice swelling with pride. “The top institution for innovation and engineering. They’re impressed with your designs, Viktor. Truly impressed.”
Viktor’s breath caught. Piltover Academy. He’d dreamed of it, studied every pamphlet he could find, but the idea of actually going had always felt like a distant fantasy. A boy like him was destined to remain in Zaun forever.
“But… how? I mean, why would they-”
“They see your potential,” Heimerdinger interrupted, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. His eyes, bright and filled with an almost fatherly warmth, searched Viktor’s face. “The world needs minds like yours, Viktor. Minds that don’t just dream, but accomplish..”
The words hung in the air, heavy with possibility. For a moment, Viktor couldn’t speak. He looked down at his calloused hands, hands that had built makeshift contraptions from scavenged parts, hands that had mended more than they’d ever broken. Could those same hands shape a future for others? Make a better life for him?
“What do you say, my boy?” Heimerdinger asked. “Are you ready to show Piltover what Zaun can do?”
Viktor straightened, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. He met the director’s gaze, a small but determined smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m ready.”
“You know, the boys and I will miss you around here, so don’t forget to write,” the director said as he placed his hand on Viktor’s shoulder. Even with the director sitting on his office desk, he was significantly shorter than Viktor.
“I won’t, I promise.”
~~~
When Jayce Talis received his acceptance letter, it was no surprise to anyone - least of all himself. He had breezed through just about every prestigious private institution Piltover had to offer, leaving a trail of accolades, glowing recommendations, and smitten classmates in his wake. Piltover Academy, renowned for its elite engineering and innovation program, was just the next inevitable step in his golden trajectory.
Jayce strode down the marbled hallways of the preparatory academy he currently attended, exuding the confidence of someone who knew the world was watching - and cheering. His crisp, tailored uniform fit perfectly, his tie slightly loosened in a way that suggested effortless cool rather than rebellion. As he passed, heads turned, whispers followed, and more than one student leaned a little closer to catch his attention.
Jayce wasn’t overly confident in his appearance, but he was just the right amount of confident. His hair was perfectly groomed, and his uniform fit him snugly, showing off his toned body.
“Morning, Jayce!” Caitlyn Kiramman called, her voice bright as she approached from the opposite direction. Her polished demeanor - a hallmark of the prestigious Kiramman family - was softened by the unmistakable warmth in her tone.
“Caitlyn!” Jayce greeted, flashing her a dazzling smile that seemed to light up the corridor. “Looking sharp, as always.”
Caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t hide the smile creeping across her face. “You’re crazy.”
“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” he quipped, winking as he walked backward for a moment before turning smoothly on his heel.
As Jayce continued down the hall, he was intercepted by a tall, elegant woman standing at the door to her classroom. Mel Medarda, his advanced science and ethics teacher, was a figure of authority and poise, her piercing gaze capable of making even the boldest students falter, but not Jayce. If he was being completely honest, he used to have a crush on her.
“Mr. Talis,” she said, her tone sharp yet edged with amusement. “Have you received your letter?”
“Oh, you mean the letter?” Jayce asked, stopping and leaning casually against the doorframe. “The one from Piltover Academy? Why, yes, Miss Medarda. I received it yesterday. Special delivery, of course. They practically begged me to accept.”
Mel raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Begged, did they? I assume they’re aware they’ll be hosting Piltover’s brightest and most humble student?”
Jayce chuckled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “What can I say? I like to keep them on their toes. Oh, and haven’t you heard what they’ve been calling me? The Defender of Tomorrow.”
Behind him, a few passing students stifled laughter. Jayce’s cocky charm was as much a part of his brand as his academic achievements, and most found it impossible not to be swept up in his confidence - no matter how over the top it was.
“Just remember, Mr. Talis,” Mel said, her voice dropping slightly, “charm only gets you so far. At Piltover Academy, results will matter just as much as your smile.”
“Good thing I excel at both,” Jayce shot back, grinning.
Mel sighed, but her lips turned into the barest hint of a smile. “Get to class, Talis. And don’t let that head of yours get so big it doesn’t fit through the Academy gates.”
Jayce gave her a mock salute before sauntering off, his steps purposeful but unhurried. As he disappeared into the thrumming hallways, the whispers started again, louder this time. Everyone knew Piltover Academy was no ordinary school-and no one doubted that Jayce Talis would make his mark there too.
~~~
“My roommate?” Viktor questioned, his suitcase sitting next to his leg, and his cane lying against the case.
“Of course, sir,” the desk clerk replied. Her dark skin was fair, and her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. “It’s school policy that all freshmen are placed in a dorm with another freshman! Here at Piltover Academy we strive to not only create brilliant scientists, but also brilliant people.”
The girl smiled, and sat a golden key down on the oak desk.
Viktor’s eyes flashed to the tiny nametag clipped on her shirt, “Thank you, Ms. Sky!” he added before he was on his way to the number inscribed into the key.
Viktor limped through the pristine halls of Piltover Academy, his cane tapping against the gleaming marble floors in a rhythmic counterpoint to the bustling hum of students. His suitcase bumped along behind him, a little scuffed and weathered compared to the sleek, designer luggage carried by others, but Viktor didn’t mind. He was too enthralled by everything around him.
The walls were adorned with intricate carvings of gears and cogs, each glinting under the soft, golden glow of the overhead lights. Ornate chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, casting shimmering patterns that danced across the polished surfaces. Everywhere he turned, there were signs of innovation and opulence - students walking by with mechanical gadgets whirring in their hands, holographic displays projecting complex equations, and murals depicting Piltover’s greatest inventions.
It was unlike anything Viktor had ever seen. Back in Zaun, the walls were streaked with grime, the streets choked with smog. But here, the air was crisp, the environment clean, and every corner seemed to hum with the promise of possibility.
He stopped for a moment, his gaze catching on a massive window that overlooked the sprawling courtyard below. Students gathered in small groups, some laughing, others debating animatedly. A pair of mechanized birds fluttered by, their wings glinting like liquid gold in the sunlight. Viktor exhaled slowly, a mix of awe and gratitude washing over him.
He tightened his grip on the golden key in his hand and checked the number engraved on it again: 209. His room.
When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, his heart thudding in his chest. He’d never had a roommate before - unless one counted the crowded bunks at the orphanage, where privacy was a luxury no one could afford. With a deep breath, he inserted the key and turned it.
The room was spacious and impeccably furnished, with two identical beds on opposite sides, each framed by sleek, modular desks. One side, however, was already claimed. A suitcase - leather-bound and monogrammed with gold initials J.T. - sat atop the neatly made bed. Above the desk hung a framed photo of a young man shaking hands with a smiling Piltover official, a medal gleaming on his chest.
“Ah, so you’re my roommate,” came a voice, bright and self-assured, from behind Viktor.
He turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered boy standing in the doorway. Jayce Talis. Viktor recognized him immediately - he’d seen Jayce’s face in more than a few Academy brochures. The boy radiated confidence, from his effortlessly styled hair to the easy grin on his face.
“My roommate?” Viktor echoed, his voice tinged with a hint of wariness.
“That’s right,” Jayce said, stepping inside and extending a hand. “Jayce Talis. Welcome to Piltover Academy, roomie!”
Viktor looked at the outstretched hand, hesitating before shaking it briefly. “Viktor,” he said, his accent thick, his tone clipped. “From Zaun.”
Jayce paused, his grin faltering just slightly. “Zaun, huh? Well… that’s different.”
The air between them grew tense for a moment, and then Jayce’s smile returned, brighter than ever. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes. Stick with me, and you’ll do just fine.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll manage.”
As Jayce moved to his side of the room, he clapped his hands together, surveying Viktor with a bemused expression. “So, Viktor, tell me… do you plan on decorating your side of the room, or are you going for the whole ‘bare essentials’ vibe?”
Viktor set his suitcase down and leaned on his cane, his sharp eyes narrowing. “I’m here to study, not decorate.”
“Oh, of course,” Jayce said with a mockingly serious nod. “You’re the serious, intellectual type, aren’t you? Let me guess—you hate fun, joy, and probably people like me.”
Viktor’s lips twitched into the smallest of smirks. “People like you? Arrogant, self-important, overachievers?”
“Overachiever? Guilty as charged,” Jayce said, throwing his hands up dramatically. “But hey, someone’s gotta be amazing, right?”
Viktor sighed deeply, muttering under his breath in his native tongue. “This is going to be unbearable.”
Jayce grinned even wider. “Oh, trust me, Viktor. By the end of the semester, you’ll love me. Everyone does.”
Viktor shot him a glare, but as Jayce flopped onto his bed, laughing to himself Viktor wondered how he was going to survive the next eighteen weeks.
The next morning, Viktor was awake before the sun had even hit the sky. It was a habit of the trade you could say. At the orphanage, he had to be up early every morning in order to get his chores done before all the littles were awake. There, mornings had been a race against time: scrubbing floors, mending broken things, and readying the day for the younger children before their cries and laughter filled the halls.
Here, though, there were no chores waiting for him - no list of duties tethering him to a mundane rhythm. For the first time in years, his morning was his own. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and reached for his cane. With quiet determination, he left the room, careful not to wake Jayce, who was snoring softly, sprawled across his luxurious bed as though he owned the world - it made Viktor chuckle.
The Academy halls were empty, a vast and quiet expanse illuminated by the faint, gold light of the lanterns lining the walls. Viktor’s cane tapped softly against the polished floors, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness.
He walked with purpose, though he didn’t have a clue where he was going. His steps carried him deeper into the Academy, his sharp eyes taking in every detail - the ornate filigree etched into wooden door frames, the hum of machines behind doors, and the countless portraits of inventors, scientists, and engineers whose work had shaped Piltover.
The halls eventually led him to an open-air courtyard. He stepped through the arched stone entrance, greeted by the cool, pre-dawn breeze. The sky was still an inky black, the stars faint but steady in their positions. Overhead, the faintest sliver of a moon hung low, casting a pale light across the Academy ground.
Viktor tilted his head back, his gaze locking onto the sky. The stars here seemed brighter than those in Zaun, free from the haze of smog and grime that clouded the skies back home. He leaned lightly on his cane, his other hand absentmindedly brushing his hair from his face.
In that moment, the quiet beauty of the sky filled him with an unfamiliar sense of peace. He allowed himself to wonder, for just a heartbeat, if perhaps this place could be more than just a source of education - if perhaps it could be a home.
The smallest streak of orange broke the horizon, signaling the sun’s imminent arrival. Viktor sighed, turning back toward the Academy. His first official day was beginning and it was going to be great - it had too.
~~~
Viktor returned to his dorm later that evening, his mind still buzzing with equations and solutions from class. The Academy had exceeded his expectations - not just in size, but in the way it challenged him intellectually. For once in his life, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
That feeling of contentment, however, evaporated the moment he opened his dorm door.
The room was unrecognizable.
Every surface, from the walls to the bedposts had been commandeered by Jayce’s belongings. Posters of a rugby team - The Baron Nashers - covered the walls, their bold blue and purple colors clashing violently with the room’s elegant decor. A massive banner proclaiming “Piltover Pride!” hung crookedly above Jayce’s bed. Trinkets and memorabilia were scattered across every available surface; miniature rugby balls, framed photos of the team's mid-victory, and even a scarf draped over the headboard.
Unfortunately, Viktor’s side of the room wasn’t safe. Jayce’s bold decor including a strand of golden lights, and silver pictures covered the walls. Everything was being overshadowed by Jayce’s chaos - Viktor wasn’t going to take it.
He stepped inside of the room, his cane tapping sharply against the floor, mocking his current mood, as he surveyed the scene with mounting disbelief.
“What… is this?” he muttered under his breath, his accent thick with irritation.
He closed the door behind him and leaned his cane against the desk. For a moment, he stood still, as though trying to will everything away with the sheer force of his disapproval. When that failed, Viktor’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he set to work.
The first poster came down with a firm tug. He rolled it neatly and set it aside, muttering a sign of approval under his breath in Zaunite. The banner was next, its corners yanked free of the tape holding it to the wall.
As he worked, Viktor’s movements grew sharper, his irritation giving way to something deeper. This wasn’t just about aesthetics - it was about space, boundaries, respect! Did Jayce think he could just… take over? Did he think just because Viktor was from Zaun that he could walk over him?
By the time he was done, the room looked significantly calmer. Viktor had stacked the offending decorations neatly on Jayce’s desk, their bold colors and sizes reduced to an overflowing pile. Satisfied, he climbed into bed, his legs aching slightly from the long day.
As he settled in, the door creaked open.
Jayce strolled in, whistling a tune and carrying a bag of snacks he had stolen from the dining hall. His carefree demeanor froze the moment his eyes landed on the bed. He blinked, taking in the now-bare walls of the room and the monstrosity blocking his bed.
“What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice rising slightly in pitch. He dropped the bag onto his desk and turned to Viktor, who was sitting up in bed, a book propped open on his lap.
“I happened,” Viktor replied evenly, not bothering to look up.
Jayce gawked, gesturing wildly at the stack of decorations. “You… you took all of that down?”
“It was excessive,” Viktor said, his tone clipped. “This is a shared space, not a shrine to your accomplishments.”
Jayce’s mouth opened, but quickly closed, much like a fish out of water. “Excessive? Those posters are art. And those medals are my entire life’s work.”
“Potato, Potatoe,” Viktor interrupted, finally meeting Jayce’s eyes, “it was overwhelming. This room is meant for both of us. I prefer it… uncluttered.”
Jayce let out an incredulous laugh, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “Uncluttered? You mean boring! Do you even like anything? Or are you just allergic to fun?”
“I like order,” Viktor replied simply. “And Peace. Two things I have little of when surrounded by this,” he gestured to the room.
Jayce crossed his arms, staring at Viktor as though trying to decipher an alien language. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re insufferable.”
~~~
If Viktor wanted a game, Jayce could give him one. The next day when Viktor left for classes. Jayce got to work, changing and coating the room in more decor than the previous day.
By the time his work was finished, the dorm was transformed into a replication of Jayce’s energy, passion, and sheer unwillingness to back down. The walls were now completely covered with posters - not just of The Baron Nashers, but also motivational slogans like “Work Hard,” and “Piltover Forever!” A rugby jersey, framed and autographed, hung prominently above Viktor’s bed. Strings of LED lights in the Piltover colors of gold and blue outlined every board of the ceiling, casting a bold glow over the room.
He turned Viktor’s desk into a makeshift fan shrine, stacked with trophies from Jayce’s schoolboy days, a signed rugby ball, and a small banner propped on a stand. Even the floor wasn’t spared, Jayce had laid down a custom rug emblazoned with the Baron Nashers’ logo - a snarling three headed purple beast.
The finishing touch to his fantastic decor was a miniature replica of Piltover’s skyline, complete with blinking lights, perched proudly on top of Viktor’s wardrobe.
Satisfied with his masterpiece, Jayce flopped onto his bed, propping himself up against a mountain of navy and gold pillows. He pulled out his Hextab, a sleek and cutting-edge tablet developed by one of Piltover’s highest grossing tech companies, and began scrolling through game highlights.
He could barely contain himself when he heard Viktor’s keys in the door, and then saw the knob turning.
Viktor pushed the door open, mumbled something under his breath in a language Jayce didn’t understand. Viktor held up his fist in a daring manner, and then proceeded to flip Jayce off before exiting the room. Jayce could hear his cane echoing away in the distance.
“Round 2 to Jayce,” he mumbled out loud before rolling over in his bed and drifting off to sleep.
~~~
For some time, it continued back and forth in room 209, both boys constantly trying to outdo each other, keeping up with some imaginary point system.
One night, Viktor took it upon himself to write a letter back to Heimerdinger, letting him know everything was going - well, the best it could considering the circumstances.
Professor,
There’s been some confusion over rooming here at the Academy. But of course, I”ll prioritize my studies…
Unbeknownst to Viktor, Jayce was writing an email to his mother.
Dearest Mother,
I’ve been doing well at the academy, no need to wonder. It’s just I’ve got this roommate, and he’s unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe.
My roommate is a jock you see.
The two boys were both writing what they had been dealing with over the past few weeks onto paper, and together they were coming to one conclusion. They loathed each other. Each of their existence just seemed to irritate the other straight to the core. It didn’t seem to help that Jayce was the epitome of a popular boy, always seeming to bring crowds of people to the room when Viktor was trying to escape from the very thing.
Jayce would bring over girls and guys alike, and it bothered Viktor you see. Bothered him for a reason he couldn’t quite explain in words, it just made him… angry. Full of rage?
Whatever, he just needed to get over it.
Months began to pass, and the holiday season had come and gone. Spring was just around the corner.
~~~
One night, it seemed Viktor’s exhaustion got the best of him.
He didn’t knock upon entering and Jayce had a girl sitting at the foot of his bed. Viktor actually recognized this one. It was that desk girl from his first day. What was her name again? Sera?? Sophie??
“Oh, for Christ’s sake Jayce, I live here too!” Viktor said, slamming the door on his way out. He didn’t even bother staying.
Instead, he sat on a bench outside in the hallway until he saw the girl leave with her tail tucked between her legs. Thankfully he only had to wait fifteen minutes.
When he entered the second time, Jayce was waiting for him at the door. “You know, it’s not what you think when I have all these people over. We’re just studying.”
“I don’t care what you and your many friends do,” Viktor said, his accent thick. The sleepier he was, the harder it was for him to speak clearly. His words seemed to jumble together.
“It seems like you care, Vik,” Jayce said, standing between Viktor and his bed.
“I really don’t.”
“I just want to sleep. Alone. Without guests in the room.”
“Nothing more than you being tired?” Jayce pressed.
Viktor exhaled sharply, his exhaustion loosening his usual restraint. “You know what? Fine. Yes, it’s more than that,” he said, switching to Zaunite without a second thought. “I’m tired of always being your second choice, Jayce. Do you even realize what it’s like? At first, I thought I hated you—no, I wanted to hate you. But really, I was just... envious. Envious of how effortlessly you charm everyone, how you light up a room and leave nothing for the rest of us.
"And sure, I told myself I’d never have that, never be that, but at least—at least I was Jayce Talis’ roommate. Surely that counted for something, right?” He laughed bitterly, his words rushing out now. “Wrong. I’m just another shadow, standing there like a fool while everyone else drools over you. And the worst part?” He shook his head, his voice dropping. “I’ve become one of them, haven’t I? Hopelessly drawn to you like everyone else in this Academy.”
He let the words hang in the air, knowing Jayce wouldn’t understand them but feeling the weight of saying them aloud nonetheless. His chest rose and fell heavily, his frustration giving way to a quiet, aching vulnerability.
“Okay,” Jayce nodded, crossing his arms, still blocking Viktor’s path. “You know I don’t speak Zaunite, right?”
Viktor groaned, and ran a hand through his hair, clearly debating whether or not to continue the conversation, or let it die. “It wasn’t important,” he replied curtly, switching back to a language Jayce could understand.
Jayce didn’t move. His posture was casual, but his gaze was sharp, and practiced, scrutinizing Viktor in a way that made his skin prickle. “Are you sure about that?” he asked.
“Yes,” Viktor snapped, stepping around Jayce to get to his bed. He began fussing with the blankets, more out of frustration than actual needs. “And even if it was something important, you have no right to press me about it.”
Jayce exhaled, his expression shifting into something softer. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “I just.. Didn’t realize it bothered you so much when I had people over. You could’ve said something sooner, you know.”
Viktor paused, his hands frozen mid-adjustment on the blanket. “It’s not just the guests,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
Jayce cocked his head. “What was that?”
Viktor turned sharply, not even meaning to, and he met Jayce’s gaze with something fierce, yet vulnerable all at once. “It’s not just the guests,” he repeated, louder this time. “It is… you. You are infuriating. You take up all the space in the room, in every room, and you don’t even realize it. People are drawn to you, Jayce. You shine, and it makes it… hard for others to breathe around you.”
Jayce blinked, clearly taken aback. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said, his tone soft and unsure for once.
Viktor let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Of course you didn’t. You’re too busy shining,” he sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, leaning forward on his cane like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground, “You don’t really know how I feel about a lot of things Jayce. We’re in different leagues, you and I. You are the big shiny golden boy, and well… I’m me.. a nobody-”
Before Viktor could finish his epic monologue, Jayce closed the gap between the two and lifted up his chin.
The room felt suspended in time, the tension between them humming in the back of Viktor’s mind. Jayce’s fingers were warm as they gently tilted Viktor’s chin upward, forcing him to meet his gaze. Viktor’s breath hitched, his mind racing with alarms, and unspoken thoughts, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Jayce’s face.
“Jayce, let me finish. You need to hear me out. I-”
“Viktor,” Jayce began, his voice low and steady, the faintest smile playing on his lips, “you need to stop talking for a moment.”
Viktor blinked, his lips parting to argue, but Jayce’s other hand came up in a soft, deliberate gesture, his palm barely brushing against Viktor’s lips. The touch was enough to silence him, though his chest felt tight, his heart pounding in a rhythm he didn’t understand.
Jayce grinned, his eyes holding Viktor’s with an intensity that seemed to make the world around them pause. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
The words hung in the air like a spell. Viktor’s mind reeled, his logical thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm.
This isn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.
But it surely was happening. Jayce’s hand slid from his chin to cup his jaw, his thumb brushing along Viktor’s cheek in a way that felt achingly desirable.
Viktor’s breath shuddered as Jayce leaned in closer, their faces now just inches apart. The golden light of the desk lamp caught Jayce’s eyes, turning them soft and warm, like the glow of a sunrise - Viktor had always loved the sun.
For all of Jayce’s boldness and bravado, his movements were slow, and tender, almost hesitant, as if he was waiting for Viktor to pull away.
But Viktor didn’t. His hands clenched into fists in his hand as his mind raced. He waited, but in this moment, seconds felt like hours. He quickly mumbled something under his breath before grabbing the front of Jayce’s shirt, pulling them together.
Viktor’s sudden action caught Jayce off guard, and for a moment, Viktor thought that maybe he was wrong. But then their lips met, and all the hesitation, and panic melted away.
Jayce’s hand slid from Viktor’s jaw to the back of his neck, his fingers threading through Viktor’s hair. He tilted Viktor’s head up slightly, deepening the kiss with a confidence that made Viktor’s pulse race. It wasn’t rough or demanding; it was purposeful, like Jayce was trying to say thousands of unspoken words with just his lips alone.
Viktor loosened his grip on Jayce’s shirt for a moment, letting the rush of the experience roll over him before relocking his hands to Jayce’s shirt and pulling him even closer. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap from his chest. He wasn’t used to this - to wanting, to giving in - but the way Jayce kissed him made the world feel like nothing.
Jayce’s other hand rested lightly on Viktor’s thigh, grounding him, steadying him. Jayce tasted faintly of mind and something sweet Viktor couldn’t quite place, and his warmth seemed to seep into Viktor’s very skin, chasing away the cold chill that always ate at his bones.
The kiss shifted, becoming deeper, more insistent as Jayce dropped to his knees between Viktor’s legs. Instead of his head being held up to meet Jayce’s, he was now looking about equal since Jayce on his knees was about Viktor’s sitting height. The position felt oddly intimate.
When they finally broke apart, it wasn’t out of reluctance but out of necessity. Both were breathless, Jayce’s head resting on Viktor’s leg. His head awfully close to Viktor’s groin, and something else he wasn’t necessarily ready to talk about just yet.
Viktor ran his hand through Jayce’s perfectly kept hair as Jayce closed his eyes, it was an uncharacteristically soft gesture that surprised even himself. Jayce exhaled a deep, contented sigh, his cheek resting against Viktor’s thigh as if it was the most natural place in the world to be.
“You’re quiet,” Jayce murmured, his voice low and rough, the words vibrating against Viktor’s leg. “That’s a first.”
Viktor’s lips twitched into the faintest smile, his hand continuing its slow motion. “You have rendered me speechless,” he replied.
Jayce chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, and Viktor felt the vibration of it reverberate through him. “Good to know you’re not immune to my charm.”
“You are… insufferable,” Viktor finally whispered, his accent thick, the words shaky but lacking any malignance.
“And you’re impossible,” Jayce countered, his grin widening as he lifted his head from Viktor’s lap and instead looked up at him. “But we’ll make it work.”
“Yes. I suppose we will.”
Jayce tilted his head, his gaze never leaving Viktor’s, “You know for someone who claims to find me insufferable, you sure do like having me around.”
Viktor raised his brow, a smile dancing across his face. “You are like a stray dog. Persistent, difficult to get rid of, and somehow… endearing.”
“I’m endearing, how touching!” Jayce paused for a moment before an awfully mischievous grin overtook his face, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “Don’t you know, owners let their dogs sleep in the bed with them.”
“I said you were a stray,” Viktor corrected before lying back on his bed. “But, maybe the idea doesn’t sound so bad after all.”
“Of course it doesn’t, it’s my idea,” Jayce corrected before he stood from the floor and crawled into Viktor’s bed.
“You’re intolerable,” Viktor mumbled, as Jayce gently pushed him over.
“And you can’t live without it.”