Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jayce Talis has a bad habit of making sacrifices. Ever since he was little, he’s been sacrificing himself for people in big ways. He sacrificed being a child when his father died. He sacrificed being afraid when he lost Viktor (twice). He sacrificed time for people he didn’t necessarily even like. It was a feeling he was comfortable leaning into.  The act of giving. 

When Jayce Talis was 20, he met Viktor. An (at the time) 23-year-old man with a voice that could melt minds. He held himself with a cocky grin, clipped words. He was rude and borderline sassy. Jayce was enthralled, especially because of the circumstances of their meeting. 

“Am I interrupting?” Jayce’s breath catches. He stumbles back, heart racing. When he whips his head around, mind reeling, he feels like he's been shot. The man from before who got him arrested in the first place. Sassy, rude, mean. A man who makes up in attitude what he lacks in physicality. 

Jayce snaps at him. And Viktor doesn’t even flinch. He calls him egotistical and judges his quirks. He questions him, mocks him, and without even intending to, he saves him.

Jayce Talis, brought to the edge, not because he was pouting, but because he put people in danger for something that failed to inspire. If he could not study his life's work, why would he want to do anything else? He had nothing left. He was nothing else but a reckless fool. 

Jayce stands on the edge. Viktor sidles up next to him, a story on his tongue. He soothes, relates, and believes. Jayce lets Viktor pull him back. 

He just saved my life. He just saved my life, and-

“I don't even know your name.” 

Thin fingers grab a soft leather bracelet. He holds it out, a name slipping from his lips. Goosebumps rise on Jayces arms when their eyes meet. 

“It’s Viktor.”

-

Jayce doesn't see the colors around him, he feels them on his skin, hears them in his ears, touches them with his gaze. He smells metal, earth, blood. He feels his hands grasping so hard they hurt. He feels hair on his hand, grips it, focuses on it. He feels skin on skin, hot breath, hot hands, hot hot hot . 

Next thing Jayce knows, the whole world goes dark and he is left on his back. When he finally regains control of his body, he’s gasping for air. He suddenly became very aware of his hands. His fingers.

He hears shouting, feels himself falling to the ground. He can’t get his eyes open in time before his body makes contact. Wind bounds in his ears, blood rushes to his head. He groans, feels grass slice his cheek. 

He sits up, looking around, feeling around. 

“Viktor?” His voice is rough and loud, almost unrecognizable. He’s frantic now. He tries to stand and winces, but his leg aches. His clothes are torn, and his face is bleeding. Nevertheless, he stands, screaming.

“Viktor!! Viktor, where—” He turns around, looking, scanning all over. He’s in some sort of field. It’s spring, telltale by the warm breeze and budding flowers. There are mountains on his left and his right. However, in the very far distance, he can see a path. On the path, is one person. Purple cloak. 

He calls out,

“Viktor!” He begins to run, as fast as his leg will take him. There is an indescribable amount of pain shooting up his body every step he takes, but he still runs. When the person finally notices him, they begin to panic. As he gets closer, he can see that this man has a cart with him. It's full to the brim with bags, boxes, and crates. The man watches him run with horror in his eyes. Jayce shouts as he runs. The man drops the cart and runs for his fucking life. As he escapes, his purple hood slips off his head. 

Blonde, no older than 25. Very obviously not Viktor. Shit. His stomach drops and he feels his chest cave. Jayce gasps for air putting his hands on his knees. God, he’s thirsty.

He looks at the cart and sighs. Viktor was always morally grey when it came to things like, borrowing, or sharing. Jayce thinks of him as he rummages through his bag, cursing when he finds no sort of map, or compass. 

Jayce thinks for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He tries not to panic, and tries to keep calm. Key word is, tries, the main point is that he fails. He puts a hand to his forehead and feels the sweat there. He takes a deep breath. He tries looking around again. Assessing the situation, noticing his surroundings. He checks the position of the sun, looks at the foliage. Definitely still in Runeterra. He breathes. He was just in Piltover, where the hell could he be? When he looks up, the sun is still high. 

The mountains aren’t close, but he seems to be in a valley between them. It’s like the hex core rejected him. Like he fell on the magic tongue and the taste was so bitter it spat him out. Was he the only one? Is Viktor—? 

Jayce looks at the cart. He thinks of interruptions. His face pinches, and thinks “What would Viktor do?” 

He robs the cart man. 

-

Viktor can see Jayce, sees him falling. He imagines Jayce’s body making contact with the ground, the noise, the sight. He panics, hands shooting out. 

Blue light blinds his vision, and suddenly Jayce is gone. Viktor lets his body fall, fall, fall. This is fine, he thinks. I’m fine with this. 

Another flash behind Viktor’s eyes. Someone screams.

–

Jayce has a satchel full of bread on his back, eyes scanning the land for anything familiar. He eyes the grasses. 

‘Perennial ryegrass’ He remembers them from an experiment he and Viktor worked on. They were one of the first test subjects to reject the hex cores transmutation.  He feels the sun on his eyelids, and tries not to think about how fucking hot it is.

‘If Viktor were here, he could have helped me make some kind of location device with the cart guy’s shit, could’ve been halfway home by now.’ 

Home.  Jayce looks up. It's cloudless. 

–

“Viktor.”

A brown head of hair shoots up, a sheet of paper stuck to his cheek. He says something in a language Jayce doesn’t recognise and slaps his own face. Jayce flinches. 

“I’m awake.” He finally says, in Piltovan. His accent is thick, and his words are slurred. 

“I can see that.” Jayce smirks, pulling out the chair next to him. “Did you sleep here again?” Viktor groans, grabbing his head. 

“It would appear so.” Jayce chuckles. 

He stands, and walks over to the other counter to begin to pour Viktor a cup of coffee. It's cold, but it's coffee. Viktor mumbles a thank you before sipping it and wincing. 

“What made you work so hard? I thought we were calling it a night after the whole Titanium alloy debacle?” Jayce watches him begin to organise his notes, nose scrunched. 

“Yes, well, the titanium had me thinking about the impact resistance. In order to make this even worth using, they would need to not put stress on the user, yes? The vibration the gauntlet sends up the user's arm could cause damage over time, so I was thinking about what material to use for absorption purposes—” He hands Jayce papers. There are rough sketches, notes written half in Piltovian, half in Czech. 

“Simple padding will not be suitable, so I thought we could use something thick but cushioning. Like— how do you say– želatina? Eh—” His hands reach for the words but his mind is left blank. Jayce smiles, 

“Gel?” Jayce asks. Viktor snaps his fingers, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes, exactly!”  “That's a really good idea Viktor.” He splays the papers out on the table. Viktor’s eyes light up. 

“Thank you.”  His accent curls around the words in a way that makes Jayce feel funny. 

Viktor begins to explain how he created this gelatin substance, and shows Jayce a prototype of a glove he had been sewing and fixing all night, er, well, morning now. His hands gesture wildly and Jayce smiles. He sits, elbows on his knees and watches him talk. She watches his Adam's apple bounce, his eyebrows furrow on certain words, and phrases. Notices how his pupils dilate every time their eyes meet, and feels himself smile. Viktor stops at some point, an angry color flooding his cheeks. 

“So it’s sodium polyacrylate, basically. It took me a while, but—Jayce Talis, are you even listening?” 

Jayce straightens up, “Yes of course!” Viktor shakes his head, and begins to talk again. 

–

Jayce scratches his chin, tries to ignore how his hair keeps falling into his eyes. He takes a drink from the canister on his hip and picks up his speed. He tries to think about the logistics of everything. He can see Piltover in the distance, meaning the Hexcore didn’t send him far.  

–

Hours have passed. 

Jayce has eaten too little bread to feel as energetic as he is. His thoughts are consumed by finding Viktor, and— and what? What will he do when he finds him? Jayce shakes his head, passes the many vendors stationed on the outskirts of Piltover.

He thinks he sees Viktor quite a few times, and tries not to be crushed when he realizes it's just a dead tree, or random traveler.  By the time Jayce enters Piltover he thinks he has seen Viktor 7 times. His feet keep moving, he throws up twice along the way from pain shooting up his leg mixed with an empty stomach. He eats more bread and throws it up minutes later. He keeps walking. No one tries to stop him.

Eyes are glued to him like they fear he might pounce. He scans every crowd, every face. He stops himself from calling out, realizing that Viktor had been this city's enemy for the past month. They might see him as a traitor and arrest him. They would be right, but he has things to do. 

He drags himself to the council stairs, where he collapses, legs finally giving out. Someone tries to help him up.

“I’m fine—” they try to lift him,  “I am fine.” He holds out a hand, and watches the enforcers take a step back, nervous. One of them mumbles something about getting the Sheriff and runs. The other asks an annoying amount of questions before deciding to just stand there anxiously. 

Caitlyn runs in so fast, Jayce doesn’t realize she's there until he’s being crushed by a hug. He’s pulled to his feet, and wraps his arms around her. Fuck, he missed her. 

“I’m so glad you're okay.” He mumbles. She pulls back. 

“ME? I thought you were dead! ” Oh, she's crying, hands pulling him back in for a hug. 

“I know— Where—?” He asks. He tries to count in his head. 

“You’re bleeding! And— What happened to your hair?” She shouts, touching the white strand of hair at the front of his head. It’s stained with blood. He inhales sharply, wincing. He grabs her hand. His eyes were unnaturally wide, like he was teetering on the edge of madness.

“Where is he?”

The enforcers suddenly realize where they are, and fix their posture, pretending not to listen. The air gets unnervingly quiet. Caitlyn pulls away. 

“He…” She scrunches her eyebrows, mouth twisting. 

“Caitlyn.” He looks at the guards, then at her again. His face falls, worrying, choking him. Anger fills his chest, and spreads to his feet. He begins to walk inside. Caitlyn follows him

“Jayce, he… look, you both got sucked into whatever that… thing was, and then. You were—” She stops, and sighs. Jayce slows, and watches the way her hands shake at her side. She looks so young now. Jayce frowns. 

“He was so scared. It was like he fell through a portal. He was confused and scared. And—”

Caitlyn straightens, regaining composure. She begins to retell what happened. Jayce sits down, eyes wide.

–

Caitlyn falls to her back, and gasps for air. Whatever had her, Viktor, the Hexcore, whatever— It lets her go. She looks around, and her eyes land on the explosion of power falling from the hexgates tower.  She feels Mel gasp next to her, hands still grasping Ambessa’s  body. 

Viktor is falling. The Hexcore spit him out, but he’s too high up. He won’t make the landing.

In that moment, his robe unfurls like the tattered wings of some broken angel, an impossible, fleeting illusion. Caitlyn’s chest tightens. It’s too much—his body, so fragile, resembling something divine and doomed all at once. The beauty of it is cruel. How can something so fragile be so beautiful in its final moments?

Her heart stops as Viktor seems to vanish into the air itself, a streak of blue light cutting through the sky. In the next breath, he crashes to the ground, untouched, a soft thud as his body hits the earth, alive.

Caitlyn stands on wobbly legs, and screams as loud as her voice will carry. 

“VIKTOR!”

“Stay away from me!” His voice cracks, desperation lacing each word.

And then—everything halts.

Caitlyn feels the world freeze, as though the air itself has thickened, the ground beneath her suddenly an immovable force. Her body tenses, trapped in some unseen grip, and panic surges through her veins. She can still think, her mind racing faster than she can keep up, every instinct screaming to move, to fight, but her body refuses to obey.

Her eyes lock with Viktor’s. His face is a mask of terror, his breath quickening, as though he, too, is struggling against some invisible force. He stumbles back.

Viktor’s hands glow. They shimmer with light, turning them towards his body, clenching them shut. Caitlyn blinks, and suddenly he’s running. 

Well, not exactly running, but still moving quickly. His leg is bowed in, and causes him to move slower. The magic must have healed the erosion in his body. Like he’s back at square one. Like he’s that same kid in the underground, chasing a ship that left without him. It's like the whole world speeds up around him, and he can’t seem to catch it, it slips right through his fingers. This time he doesn’t wait for the world to slow for him. 

His metaphorical hands grip the boat, frozen. He takes off running, doesn’t look back once. 

–

“It was like time slowed for everyone but him. Like he was traveling through time faster than we were.” She looks at her hands, and drops them with a sigh. 

“Jayce. He’s been on the run since he froze us. It took only a couple minutes until we could move again, but that was enough time for him to completely leave the city.”

Jayce continues walking. Caitlyn jogs to keep up.

“Did you see which way he went?” Jayce goes through a very familiar set of doors. His heart aches at the nostalgia of this lab. 

He makes his way to the desk and begins to rip open drawers, he grabs books, notes, anything incriminating. Caitlyn stares as he smears his notes of Viktor off the blackboard. He’s erasing every single reminder of their existence. 

“Uh, I think he went west— What are you doing?” Caitlyn watches him throw random scraps over his shoulder, chest heaving. His eyes finally land on a brown book, bound loosely. He grabs it, and shoves it into his bag. 

“When we were stuck in the arcane, something happened to our bodies. It didn’t heal my leg or his, but it obviously did something.” Jayce throws paper after paper into a metal trash can. He swipes everything off the counter.

“Wait, the arcane—” Jayce holds up a hand, stopping her. 

“My knee shattered when I was in the Hexcore’s alternate dimension—”

Caitlyn's face is so blank she might as well have not heard him. Deadpan, she calmly asks. 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Jayce interrupts her.

“My leg is still broken, but it— It’s tense. Like I’ve been walking on this injury all my life. Viktor was poisoned at a young age, with something he should’ve been able to get over, but his body wasn’t strong enough.”

“His leg was still deformed. I saw it.” Caitlyn watches Jayce open the window, the cool air flooding in. He grabs a lighter off the desk, along with a set of keys. 

“Yes, well,” Jayce sighs, “we’ve been trying to find a cure for Viktor’s condition for years.” He moves to the chalkboard, his fingers brushing the blank surface as he starts to draw. “Think of it like this,” he says, sketching a small, scraggly flower in the corner. Caitlyn snorts.

“Weeds can grow through cracks in concrete, right? That’s us. We’re resilient. Whether it’s the flu, a broken leg, or a stomach ache, our bodies heal. We’re strong. We can overcome it. Viktor, though, he’s different.” Jayce continues drawing, sketching a much larger, more detailed flower beside the first. He takes his time, adding shading, contrast, and delicate water droplets on the petals. Caitlyn shakes her head at the intensity with which he works, her gaze following the meticulous detail. Around the flower, he draws a road, the pavement cracked and uneven, rocks scattered around it.

“This flower,” he says, tapping the board, “is rare. It needs constant sunlight and moisture to survive. Even then, it might die. Now imagine you planted this flower in the middle of a busy street.”

Jayce pauses for a moment, letting the image settle. “Viktor was born with mobility issues—his leg, his spine. From the start, he was already struggling. He was born in the Undercity. The fissures in the mines made him sick.” He draws a thick line across the board, marking a sharp contrast between the two flowers.

“When Viktor’s body was exposed to the arcane, it’s like he was completely uprooted from the soil,” Jayce continues. He erases the road, the rocks, and replaces it with smooth, fertile dirt. “It’s as if the arcane placed him into fresh soil, gave him water, nutrients, sunlight… and just let him grow .”

Jayce’s hand falters for a moment, then he drops the piece of chalk, the sound echoing in the room. He reaches into his pocket, grabs the lighter, flicks it on, and drops it into the trash can. The flame flickers for a moment before disappearing, swallowed up by the pile of crumpled papers and discarded notes that had once held their hopes.

“You said he went west?” 

“Don’t tell me you're actually planning on…” She lowers her voice. “Jayce, he is a literal terrorist. If anyone finds out you're planning on follow—”

“No one will find out.” Jayce is still watching the fire, gaze unwavering. There's an unspoken command in his words. “No one even saw me come in here.”

He turns to Caitlyn, whose face is deathly pale. She shakes her head. 

“No, no, you can’t go, I just got you back.” Caitlyn grips her own arms, body shaking. Jayce closes his eyes, guilt heavy in his chest. 

When he opens his eyes, he tries to find the words. He has to do this, to find him. To tell him— 

“Sprout—”

“Fuck.” She wipes at her eyes, clarity washes the color off her face. “Okay.” She says, nodding.

“Okay?”

“Nothing I say will change your mind.” She glances at the flower drawn onto the blackboard. Her eyes filled with tears. “If you come back, you’ll be in jail for the rest of your life.” She points a finger into his chest 

“He better be worth it.” 

Jayce pulls her into a hug. Her tears are cold on his shirt. The next words he says are full of so much truth, and faith, it might as well have been a prayer. 

“He is.”

–

Jayce sets out before the sun sets, and walks all through the night. He has a bag full of books, clothes, food, water, and other necessities. He hums a song Viktor used to sing.   

–

“What is that?” Jayce asked, gaze stuck to his papers. Viktor stops humming, hands stilling. “It’s a prayer we used to sing when I was a kid.”

“I didn’t realize Zaun had much religion?” Viktor rolls his eyes. That's all they had.

“It was a prayer to Janna, a wind goddess. When I was a kid, my mother often got sick because of the smog.” Viktor’s voice gets low.

“She would sing it to me. It was a prayer for clean air, and everlasting health.” Viktor never really spoke about his family. All he knows is that Viktor's father is practically non-existent and his mother died when he was 8. That's all. 

Jayce can’t wipe the shock off his face before Viktor sees it, and feels a flush on his face. 

“That’s really—” Sweet? Sad? What does he say to that?

“It was a long time ago. However, the song is often stuck in my head. I apologize if it is bothering you, I’ll try to—”

“No!” Viktor tilts his head. Jayce blushes. 

“No, sorry, I mean. It’s nice. Don’t worry about it. Plus, you let me tap my pen on the counter so it's only fair if you get to hum a little bit.” Jayce smiles, shoulders shrugging. Viktor smiles, and turns back to his work. 

He only begins to hum again when Jayce begins to tap his pen. When Jayce glances over, Viktor has a smile peeling at his lips. 

-

Jayce has been walking for so long that his feet are numb. He wonders absently if he’ll even be able to keep up with him. Viktor might have already made it to the western docks by now. He could be halfway across the world for all he knows. Jayce shakes his head, and keeps walking. 

There are a million logical reasons Jayce should be turning around, but he doesn’t even for a minute think about it. He keeps going. 

-

He begins to pass fields and fields of fruit farms, crops, and even some fish ponds. The sun has risen by the time he made it into town. It's a small town, one Jayce is not familiar with. 

Palclyff. Known for their bountiful harvests and powerful medicine. There are mountains on all sides of the city, except for the road Jayce took. It's the perfect hiding spot.

The town is lively, and quaint. There are flower shops, bakeries, mechanics, diners, townhomes, doctors, pharmacies. Jayce only realizes how scary he looks when a child runs past him and screams, running to her mom to tell her about the smelly scary man. Fuck. 

Jayce makes quick work of asking shop owners and customers of the likes if they have seen a white haired man walk through. They all shake their head, and send him to someone who might know. He goes down a long line of people until he is back to the start. As the sun gets lower down the sky, Jayce begins to lose hope. Maybe he really isn’t here. Maybe he’s already in the next city. Maybe—

“Hey. Mister.”

A small girl, about the height of Jayce’s knees, calls to him. She has soft peachy hair and keys spinning on her fingers. She looks much too stern for how young she is. Jayce squints. 

“I’m kinda busy kid.” 

“Oh really? Because a little birdy told me you lost something’.” She stops spinning the keys, and smirks. Jayce’s eyes widened.

“And if I did?” She laughs, eyes brightening. She turns, and walks down a dark street off the main road. 

“Follow me!” She calls over her shoulder.

The young girl leads Jayce to the back of a shop, and when he tries to ask where the hell she is taking him, she puts a finger to her lips. She expertly grabs one of the keys and twists it into the shop's back door. Jayce’s stomach drops. 

“Hey—” 

“Listen, mister. You gotta trust me here.” She walks into the shop, leaving Jayce in the dirty alley. When Jayce walks in, he doesn’t expect this shop to be—

“Huh. Antiques.” 

The kid jumps onto the shop counter, and points her set of keys at Jayces face. 

“Listen here mister! I heard you were looking for a boy, white hair, sickly frame, little bit of a limp?” Jayce’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, yes I—”

“Ah ah ah, don't get too excited.” She waggles a finger. Jayce fights down a scoff. 

“Where are your parents?” He says, with more annoyance than he's ever felt. 

“Out.” A shrug.  “Now! If you want to find where your little girlfriend is, you—”

Jayce steps forward, and watches the little girl flinch. His eyes fill with something akin to hatred. 

“Not a girl.”

“Geez. Okay, okay. Boyfriend then. Look, I don’t give info to strangers. Especially strangers with no money.”

Jayce practically rips his bag off his own back. He reaches a hand in, and starts looking around.

“Whatever you need, kid. Just tell me where he is.”
 

Her eyes sparkle. 

“Forty dollars.”

A quiet thud as a wad of money hits the counter. 

“How about sixty?” She is frozen where she is, eyes locked on the money.

“Where is he?” She continues to stare at the money as she speaks.

“There's an old farmhouse that some family in Piltover use as a vacation home. People say a man walked through here and has been sleeping there. Mr. Blackwell saw him, said the guy was weird. That's all I know.” Jayce wastes no time, and turns around. He takes a step, and then stops. 

“How do I–”

“Take a left, once you see a broken light post, head west for a while and take a right down the dirt path.” She's flipping through the cash. 

As he walks through the door, stick in hand, the girl calls out. 

“What's your name?”

Lie . “...Jayce.” Fuck . “and yours?”

“It’s Libby,” She smiles, front tooth missing. Jayce chuckles and continues walking. 

–

Jayce feels like he's walking for ages now that he actually has a destination in mind. There are more trees than he expected for a grassland. The farmhouse is hidden, and makes an eerie sound in the wind. 

The human body can only carry you so far. Your subconscious holds you back from unlocking your full potential, because to do so would mean tearing yourself apart. No matter how much you may despise yourself, there's always a part of you that instinctively protects your limits. It’s evolution, it’s survival, it’s the mind's way of preserving what’s left of your sanity.

Jaycee's subconscious could only scream one thing as he dragged himself up that dirt path.

Fuck sanity, Find Viktor.

Jayce’s breathing is heavy as he slowly stepped up the stairs. His hand hesitated in front of the door, a necklace of thorns tightening around his neck. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

He opened the door, feels it swing more than he sees it. The sound of it hitting the wall was deafening. The sight in front of him is bizarre. Jayce almost doesn’t believe it.

Viktor is standing by some sort of table, and jumps away the second the door moves. 

His hair is long, which is what Jayce notices first. It hugs his jaw, and curls. He has on a purple cloak that hugs him too tight. His face is twisted with something akin to anger, and confusion. It brings tears of joy to Jayce. 

He drops to his knees. 

“Jayce?” He turns, takes a step. 

Something soul crushing pounds in Jayce’s chest, and suddenly he’s bawling.  It feels like someone grabbed his heart and cracked it on the side of a pan. A feeling of exposed nerves being dunked in ice water. He feels every hair on his body stand on end, and every ounce of blood in his chest pounds into his throat. He has to lean forward to stop himself from screaming. His hands grip at his chest, worried it might burst. 

Visions of falling fly through Viktors head. How did he—, Viktor’s mind muses.

Before Viktor can even finish the thought, his body moves on instinct. His hands reach out, grabbing at the fabric of Jayce's shirt, desperate.

"Jayce, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—"

But before he can say more, Jayce reacts with blinding speed.

In an instant, all the air is knocked from Viktor’s chest. Strong arms wrap around him, consuming him in an embrace. One hand grips the back of his neck, the other pulls him even closer. Jayce exhales sharply, and then Viktor feels him trembling, body shaking uncontrollably.

–

Jayce remembers seeing visions, head spinning. He remembers traveling to the deepest pits of Zaun and finding a garden of light instead of the pain and turmoil Viktor always described. 

 A boy, with bright eyes. He holds out a hand. Jayce wonders how many times he’s grabbed that hand. How many times this boy has caused his own death in roundabout ways. He watches the light flicker in the child's eyes. 

-

Viktors back is to him, feet on the edge, scooting closer. “Am I interrupting?” 

Viktor swallows, leaning away from the edge. Jayce gives him a knowing look. He doesn't mean to look as sad as he does. 

-

He walks into a cave, and his breath is caught in his throat at the sight in front of him.

-

“You have to destroy it.” Viktor leans heavily on his cane, breathing shallowly. 

Jayce glances at the hammer. He feels guilt creep up his spine. 

“I know–” 

“The Hexcore.” Viktor stares down the building’s edge. 

“I– I can't do it.” He turns to Jayce. He looks pale. Hollow. 

“You have to.” 

His mouth forms the words, and when he speaks them, Jayce drinks them in, knowing the burden they will be before they are even said.  “Promise me.” 

“I promise.” 

–

Jayce has never seen anything prettier in his life. Before him, a God, suspended on air. Wrapped in purple, held by light. His face is full, his cheeks webbed with magic. His eyes barely open when Jayce walks in. He says something, but Jayce doesn't hear it. 

He has a promise to keep. 

What a burden it is to love. What a foolish thing. To keep a promise, no matter the cost. To break a vow, no matter the pain it may cause. 

He thinks of amber eyes and leather bracelets. He pulls the level on the hammer, raises it high. 

When his eyes lock on Viktor’s, he feels nothing but everlasting devotion. 

Like a dog guarding his sheep, forced to bare his teeth and bite. Like a god, all knowing and divine, destroying his angel who trusts him with blind faith. 

He feels responsible. Because he is. Because that is the burden of love. 

Jayce was never one to break a promise. 

But he was known for making sacrifices. 

When the beam shoots, Viktor only has a moment to be scared. 

Their eyes lock, and Jayce’s heart stops beating for a whole minute. 

It's like cleaning paint off a palette, watching all the colors melt together. Colors you forget you even used, colors so far blended under, the first coat seems almost meaningless now. However, it brings depths to the whole image, only someone who saw the whole process would notice.

Jayce remains, anchored in the canvas, woven into every stroke. He might be smudged, but he’ll never fade. He is all there, unchanged.

Viktor, however, is washed away. The boy who once tinkered with a boat in the water, driven by a naive desire to save the world—he is gone. Even though his self-righteous quest for salvation never wavered, he was still just that boy. Still him.

His hand opens, and a cog rolls. 

–

Viktor inspects the gear in his hand. 

“That which inspires us to our greatest good

Is also the cause of our greatest evil.”  

–

Jayce buries his face in Viktor’s shoulder, his grip so tight it feels like he might crumble to dust if he lets go, even for a second. A hand is in his hair, on his back. 

“I killed you— I—” Jayce holds tighter. He shakes. Viktor’s eyes are wide, his frame is frozen still, as if his body was dipped in honey and left out in the cold. 

“Jayce.” 

He wants to apologize. For not being in the lab more, for ignoring him. Wants to apologize for leaving him for Mel, not inviting him to more parties. He should’ve pushed harder, forced him to stay, even when the other claimed their paths diverged. He should have insisted, he should've known better. 

He cries from fear.  He was so scared in the Hexcore’s fucked up alternate dimension. He was on his own for weeks, slowly losing his mind. He was scared, and cold, and alone. Jayce had so many sleepless nights, restless dreams about Zaun, and curly brown hair. He would have visions of Viktor. 

He remembers one night, when it got bad, he saw Viktor as a young boy. Jayce only knew what he looked like from pictures, but he could've sworn it was him. 

He was always crying, or walking, or trying to leave.

Sometimes the young boy would just silently sob, and hum the broken prayer of his people. 

Jayce would try to reach out, to comfort, to hold. But whenever he did, the boy was gone. 

He wants to tell him. He wants him to know how deeply he understands, now. He knows why Viktor was so desperate to be worthy of such grand power, because he was cursed with such devastating impotence. 

He wants to ask, how? 

How were you so strong? Jayce lost his mind down there alone for two months. 

Viktor lived like that all his life. As a child. 

He wants to push him away, hit him, force him to answer. He's desperate to know. How far past the limit does someone have to be pushed before they become limitless? How long did Viktor suffer before he became numb to it all? How long?

Viktor’s voice brings Jayce back. 

“Breathe.” 

Their foreheads are together, again. Jayce leans into him, chasing the cold of his breath. He does as he's told, eyes closed. 

“That's it.” Viktor mumbles, accent rumbling in Jayce’s head.

Jayce reaches up a hand, tucks Viktors hair behind an ear. 

Testing the waters. “Viktor,” His face twists, lips shaking. He gasps for air, fingers holding his jaw. Real, he thinks. This is real. 

A realization. He allows himself to believe it now. 

“Viktor.” 

“Yes?” Tears are rolling down his face. He smiles. 

“My Viktor? Viktor who threw up on the way to the Innovators Convention?” He thumbs at his jaw, “My Viktor who hates bland food and rats and loves sweet milk–” 

“Yes, Jayce.” He laughs, sniffling. 

Jayce’s eyes brighten. He laughs. 

“I missed you. I thought I lost you again–” For the third time, he wants to scream. “I woke up, and I couldn't f–ind you.” His voice cracks. He grips his face, eyes searching. Fatigue claws at his bones. 

Viktor grabs his hands, brings them to his lap, fingers gripping. His fingers are warm. Jayce could cry again just at that. 

One of Viktor’s hands grabs both of Jayce’s. He raises his now free hand, touches the white tuft of hair dangling in front of Jayces eyes. He stops after a moment, and looks at his own hand. 

“It's unbelievable. Like the Hexcore’s reaction to the rune was enough to satiate its hunger, freeing us.” Viktor sighs, fingers dropping back into Jayce’s hands to fidget relentlessly. 

“I thought— Because I was the one holding it in the end, that you were—” His mouth curves at the weight of the words.  “Lost to the arcane.” He means dead.

Viktor starts, “It dropped me right where it left me. On the hex gates. I still had some of the ability that the Hexcore ingrained into me, like it left a big handprint on my soul.” Viktor goes to stand, helping Jayce to his feet. 

“I was in a frenzy to leave when I got back to this world. I saw you, falling—and.” He shakes his head, Amber eyes wide. “I don’t know, I panicked, and then you were gone, so I—I ran, or well, tried to.” He gestures to the cane leaning against the wall. It's a conveniently shaped stick. Jayce watches him speak with a worried look.

“Anyway, I've been in this house since I got back. I was…” Jayce peeks over his shoulder at the table Viktor stood at minutes ago. It's covered in papers. Viktor ducks his head, shame coloring his cheeks. 

“I was trying to find a way to use my— manipulation over the arcane to…” He trails off. Jayce glances at him, skeptical. Viktor pinches his lips together, licks them, and finally says 

“To find you.” 

Jayce chuckles. 

They spend a moment talking, expressing their amazement. Jayce won’t stop yawning. 

“So did you just break into this house?” Jayce asks, looking around him. It’s in good shape for an abandoned home. 

“Yes, I did.” Viktor laughs, and explains how he simply stumbled upon it. “Maybe it was my magical touch.” He pretends to wave a wand. Jayce snorts, “Maybe.” He yawns again. 

Viktor forces Jayce to lay down. Jayce tries to insist they can talk more. Something they haven't been able to do in many months.  

The older of the two has Jayce lay in a bed that smells like burnt wood, and grass. Jayce refuses to sleep unless Viktor stays by his side constantly. He tells Viktor to wake him every hour. 

—

Viktor watches his eyes droop. He's mumbling something about his leg. He nods along, eyeing his movements carefully. Once he finally falls asleep, clutching the blanket like it's something important to him, Viktor allows himself to stand. Jayce shuffles, suddenly pushing himself to an upright position.

“Jayce, I’m just going to get you some water. Lay back down.” Viktor lays a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to relax. Jayce does, but only because he hasn’t slept in 2 days. 

Viktor leaves the room, one step outside the doors, he stops.

He looks up at the ceiling, willing the tears not to fall. They do not hear his pleas. 

—

His hands grip Jayce’s arm tight, heart in his throat. 

One of the first things Viktor learned while living on his own in the undercity, was never to fall in love. 

He had lovers, hook-ups, friends, colleagues. He did not allow himself to love any of them. He did not allow himself to love the sun, or the summer. He did not allow himself to love games, or toys, or pets. He did not allow himself to love school, or food, or homes. 

Not until he met Jayce. 

A public hearing for the boy whose research exploded a building. How could Viktor not go? He watches the light fall on the boy, Jayce Talis, and feels something well up in his chest. It's hot, and ugly, and addictive. Someone is speaking, Viktor isn’t listening. Not until he talks.

“It was revolutionary.” Viktor tilts his head, watches as he speaks. He listens, practically leaning on every word. 

Jayce was strange. Viktor had not met anyone like him before. Never met someone who allows themself to devote their whole being to— a wish. He almost laughs.

Viktor devoted himself to staying alive. To eating, breathing, and learning. 

Jayce devoted himself to— 

Dreams. 

Viktor goes home from the trial, weirdly disappointed. He wanted the council to understand the sheer danger this boy was to himself and others. 

He thinks of Heimerdinger's words. The work will be destroyed in the morning, he said. 

“This research is— This is my whole world! You can’t just take it away.”

His whole world, hmm? Impossible. Jayce’s whole world is maintaining relationships, sustaining hunger, and gaining experience. Your whole world can't be devoted to something not directly benefiting you, it goes against the evolutionary code for humans. It's— pointless. And yet. 

Viktor believes that this man has the ability to overcome simple pointlessness. It bends at his will. 

Viktor finds the door unlocked when he arrives, and walks in to see Jayce teetering on the edge. He lacks the words for a moment, and almost wants to laugh. Idiotic. To love something so much, the thought of living without it is pointless.

It must be going through his mind now. The helplessness of it all. If I cannot have what I want, I will not have any of it. Viktor decides to break these thoughts. 

An interruption of foolish lines of thinking.

And as Jayce stumbles back, face flushed, Viktor can't help but feel envy for the boy in front of him. 

—

Jayce had said, “I thought I wanted to bring magic to the world, but now all I want is my partner back.” 

The words had hurt, because Viktor never left. Not until the very end. Jayce had been pulling away for so long. While he was getting ready for parties, or kissing Mel’s hand, Viktor was pulling all-nighters in the lab, forgetting to brush his teeth or shower. He was doing everything he could to keep up with Jayce, but it was never enough. 

—

Viktor was never very good at emotions, but if Jayce gave his life's work up for him, that means he’s important to him. He wasn’t angry at him for using the Hexcore on himself, in fact, he also used it on Viktor. He wasn’t mad at Viktor for wanting to be fixed, he was just confused.

Viktor wants to be angry at Jayce.

Mad at him for his ignorance, his stupidity, his blindness. He wants to push him away, tell him to leave him. 

Now, as Viktor turns on the kitchen sink, and lets water fill Jayce’s canteen, he thinks about what he saw in Jayce’s head. The arcane’s alternate dimension, his experience there. He thinks of Jayce’s emotions towards him, the feeling of skin on skin. He thinks of Mel Medarda, and passing out over tables.

Viktor carries the water back, and falls asleep on the chair next to the bed. 

–

Jayce is weirdly clingy, when he wakes up.  He follows Viktor to the bathroom, stands outside the door, pretending like he was just waiting to use it himself. He watches Viktor slice the leftover bread tucked in Jayce’s satchel. He follows him to the dusty kitchen table, eyes glued to Viktor’s face as they talk about their plan to fix up the house. Jayce tilts his head at the idea.

“What like… just start a life here?” He draws a design on the dusty table. Nervous. 

“What were you going to do? Go back to Piltover?” Viktor puts his elbow on his knee, running a hand through his knotted hair. 

“Can we—” He thinks about fingers on his forehead, ever so gentle. He thinks of white hair, cracked masks and soft spoken truths. Are we allowed to have this? He wants to ask. Allowed to pretend like none of it happened and keep living? Viktor squints at the constipated expression Jayce’s making. 

“Is it okay for us to just… start over?” Jayce feels guilt well up in him.

“I think that's our decision to make.” Viktor says it so easily it must be true. Jayce swallows, and nods.

“Okay.” He says, and Viktor sighs. 

He grabs his notebook from Jayce’s bag, and begins to write a list. 

“I think we should focus on the most convenient items first. Like plumbing, heating, clean water, insulation. We’ll need to get some tools, and quite frankly, get money.” 

“Don't worry about that part.”

“Which part?” Viktor looks up. Jayce scratches his chin, and points at the list. 

“Money. I had— Cait pulled some strings. I have cash. It's yours.” 

“It is my cash?” Viktor tilts his head. 

“No! No, it's my cash, but I'm giving it to you.” Jayce finishes awkwardly, suddenly realising how strange he sounds. 

“It will be for both of us, no?” Viktor purrs, hair falling in front of his eyes. Jayce nods, face flushed. His hands are sweating like crazy. God, what is wrong with me. 

“I can work on insulation, we will need the house ready for winter. Jayce, I have a task for you. It is incredibly important. Do you think you're up for it?” 

Whatever you need. He thinks. 

“Name it.” He says instead. 

Viktor smirks as if he's won. 

“You get to deal with the plumbing.” Jayce punches him on the shoulder and watches him dissolve into laughter. 

—

That's how Jayce finds himself in the basement of this rotting house days later. Viktor said something about a water heater, and now Jayce is face up on the spider web infested basement, with a wrench. 

The upper gas valve is completely rusted and eroded. The base is old, and uses a bottom gas heater and temperature controlled gas-valve, however it's very poorly made. Plus,  the gas-valve is rusted, which means that there's no controlling the temperature of the water. It will just heat to the point of boiling and then melt its own parts until the gas runs out, or it explodes. He’ll need to make a new part, and quickly if he wants a hot shower. Viktor pokes his head downstairs. 

“What's the prognosis, mister mechanic?” 

While Jayce was sent on his quest to fix the water heater, Viktor was in charge of finding household supplies. The goal was to have both of them bathed by the end of the month, and put in fresh clothes.

Viktor stopped at a local tailor to pick up new clothes for Jayce a couple days ago, since his shirt had seen better days. The lady working the front was old, and held onto Viktors arm when she showed him around the shop. He let her, even though he was using a cane and it made walking with her a little more difficult. He didn’t ask her to stop. 

“You’re new in town, yes? Not on your own I’m guessing, these clothes might be too big for you, lovely.” She smiles, and folds the clothes, setting them in a paper bag. Viktor shakes his head. 

“I’m with my partner.” Viktor hands her the money, and watches her eyes crinkle. 

“Well, I wish you and your husband a warm welcome to town, okay dear?”  Viktor freezes, bag in hand.

“We aren’t—” The lady gasps, cutting him off.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She reaches under the counter and pulls out a piece of paper.

“A coupon, for a first time customer!” She hands it to him, and waves him off. It's only once he's outside the store does he allow himself to laugh. He decides to not tell Jayce about the small misunderstanding. He’ll find out soon enough. Viktor looks at Jayce, covered in dirt and cobwebs.

“Well, I’ll need to make a new case for this.” He taps the gas valve, and lays a dirty towel over his shoulder. He opens a compartment to the bottom of the heater, exposing a bunch of coiled up copper wiring.

“Also, I’ll need to replace most of this wiring. But other than that, I think you’ll have a hot bath by the end of the day.” Jayce stands, and walks over towards Viktor.

“Whatcha get at the store?”

Viktor leads him upstairs, and shows him all the produce he was able to purchase, along with many artisanal goods Jayce took for granted in Piltover. Jayce almost cries at the sight of jam, butter, and milk. Viktor also shows him the new soaps, towels, and bed sheets. Jayce had been sleeping on the floor, while Viktor took the bed. They were both sleeping with multiple layers, and zero blankets. 

“Man, all of this stuff is like, handmade.” Jayce picks up a bar of soap, lifts it to his nose. Smells like lavender. There's a glass bottle, neatly labeled “conditioner” in Piltovian. 

“It is a small town, Jayce. You would be surprised how creative humans can be under the threat of inconvenience.” Viktor chuckles, moving to put away some of the food. Jayce quickly swoops in, ushering him to sit. Viktors eyebrows crinkle, face souring.

He lets his mind become taken over by the task at hand. Sweet milk powder goes into the left cabinet. He pours the flower into a glass container, along with the yeast. He sets those aside, and puts the milk in the fridge. Jayce remembers his second day in this house, and how confused he was at the working electricity:

“How do we even have electricity?” 

The power goes out.

It comes back on a moment later, with a snap.

Jayce spins around, staring at Viktor. 

“Holy shit. YOU’RE DOING IT?” 

Viktor had to explain to him, once again, how he still had some influence over the arcane. He was able to send currents through his body, all the way to the house. Most of the time, he forgot he was even doing it.

Jayce had freaked out, asking “Is that— safe? For your body?” He walked over, put his hand to Viktor’s forehead, gasping at how cold it was. 

“Viktor, you're freezing.” He grabbed his knit sweater off the counter and pulled it over Viktor’s head. It was too big, and covered his hands. Viktor had flushed, telling him it wasn’t uncomfortable, and to not worry about it.

-

Viktor hasn’t taken off the sweater since that conversation a couple days ago. Jayce smiles at the sleeves covering most of his hands. He’s hunched over a book, finger twirling a strand of hair. A habit he’s had all his life. 

“It's unfortunate you have to go into town, seeing as I was just there.”

“It’s okay. I have a friend to check on anyway.” Jayce begins to unwrap the second hand plates Viktor picked up. 2 plates, 2 bowls, 4 glasses. Jayce sets them in the sink to wash them and turns on the water, before immediately thinking better of it and turning it off. Right, water heater. 

“You made a friend? When?” Viktor tucks hair behind his ears, and begins to organize some of the papers on the large wobbly dinner table. Jayce makes a sharp, ehh , noise.

“Kinda. A woman—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s expression remains emotionless. 

“Correction. A girl. She kinda reminds me of myself as a kid.”

“Annoying and spoiled?” Jayce does a mocking, Ha ha and throws an orange at his head. Viktor blocks it and watches it roll onto the dusty floor. 

“Hey! That was expensive.” A laugh barely slips from his lips. Jayce beams.

“Well then be nicer to the guy who's holding ‘em.” Jayce walks over, picks up the loose cash on the counter and shoves them into his pockets. 

“Try not to overwork yourself while I’m out.” Viktor scoffs, and turns to tell him off, but he’s already out the door. 

–

Jayce is walking aimlessly around town when he finally finds a shop that seems promising to his endeavors. He walks in and is immediately hit with a wave of heat.

A blacksmith. Perfect. 

“Shops the next door down, lad. Cashiers a real bitch.” A gruff voice calls, back to the door. He's hammering something on the table, and Jayce feels a wave of familiarity flood him. 

“Actually, I think you might be able to help me.”

The man's name is William Blackwell, but Jayce is instructed to call him Willy. Jayce explains the part he needs, and the man makes a pinched face. Jayce recognises it as, ‘I can do it, but I don’t want to.’ Jayce smirks. He hands him a paper with a sketch of the parts he needs, their purpose, and material.

“You seem to know what you’re talking about, lad.” Jayce looks up from his explanation of the rough drafts. 

“Yeah, well. I’m an inventor. I’ve spent a fair amount of my life in a workshop just like this.”

There are tools hanging on the walls, and multiple tables full of parts, scraps, and utensils litter the counters.

“Well, I have about twenty seven things to do before I can start making your part, boy.” Jayce crumbles. Shit. 

“But,” Jayce perks up. “You seem to know what you're looking for, and judging by the sketches you have I’m pretty sure you could make ‘em faster than me,” The man picks up a cloth and begins to shine some random hunk of metal. 

“I say, go ahead and use what you need.” Jayce smiles, and claps the man on the shoulder. 

“I really appreciate it.”

-

Jayce takes a moment to grab everything he needs, and heats, hammers, and cools the piece. In total, it takes him about 2 hours. Once he’s done, he pays Willy accordingly and thanks him again. The man is shocked when Jayce shows him the finished piece.

“Look, son. If you ever are looking for some extra cash, I could always use a helping hand.” Jayce shakes his hand, and agrees to come back. 

Once he leaves the shop, he heads towards Libby’s shop. Huh, It’s the next door down. When he opens the door, and steps in, a bell rings overhead.

The shop is full of antiques. Lamps, flower vases, chairs, and pots. 

“Welco- JAYCE!” She jumps up, and laughs. 

“Hey, kid.” Jayce smiles, and leans against the counter.

“You’re in trouble mister! You didn’t tell me you were married!” Married?

She rolls her eyes at the face Jayce makes. 

“Secrets out, buster! Mrs. Meredith told me allll about your pretty little husband. You let me think he was just a boyfriend!” She seems very hurt by this.

“Husband– no, what–?” Libby holds out a hand. 

“Oh, sorry, PaRtNeR.” she mocks his Piltovian thick voice. Jayce laughs, besides himself. Viktor has a lot of explaining to do.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you.” He scratches the back of his head. 

“I just stopped by to see how you were doin’, and say thanks.” Jayce picks up a random porcelain unicorn and inspects it. Libby jumps off the stool she was seated in, and walks around the house. 

“No problem buddy. Thanks for the money!” She smiles wide, and giggles. 

–

Jayce arrives home, and pauses at the door. He can hear… music. When he walks in he gasps at the sight awaiting him. The floors are practically sparkling, their deep brown stain shimmering in the light. The dust that had been absently floating in the air is completely gone, and all the windows are sparkling clean.

He steps into the house, taking his shoes off in order to keep everything clean. The table near the door that held all their junk is mess-free, and doesn't wobble when Jayce sets down the gas valve parts.

“Huh.” He sniffs the air. It smells amazing.

“I thought I asked you not to overwork yourself, V.” Jayce steps into the kitchen and stops at the sight in front of him.

Viktor’s hair is pulled back into a small bun, strands falling free. He’s humming along to some music, stirring something on the stove, and has on a pink flowery apron that sinches his waist so prettily it has Jayce’s face flushing. The sleeves of Jayce’s sweater are pulled up to Viktor’s elbows, revealing the pale scarred skin littered with moles. The counter's wood no longer smells like mildew and rot, and instead shines with moisture, as if a fresh layer of oil has been rubbed into the grain. When did he find the time to do all this?

“How—”

“Turns out, having magical powers isn’t as bad as I thought.” Viktor’s words are clipped, and he doesn’t glance at Jayce once. Jayce looks around. The setting sun is coming in through the windows, lighting up the kitchen.

It's almost painfully beautiful. Jayce didn’t notice how gorgeous the tiny farm home was, but now that it's clean it's like a breath of new life has filled the home. 

“I rummaged around the basement. Turns out, the previous owners left some nice things behind.” Viktor nods his head towards something in the corner. 

A record player. So that’s the music he heard.

“Man, lucky us.” Jayce moves to Viktor’s side, peeking at what he’s making. 

“Smells good.” He hums, and turns around to grab the pieces for the water heater. He mumbles to Viktor telling him he’ll be right back.

He heads downstairs with something heavy in his chest. He can’t get the image of Viktor, back facing him, apron pulled tight. Was he… angry?

He looked painfully beautiful, but he was… reserved.

Something wells in his chest. Is he even allowed to have this? After everything he said to Viktor, and did to him. Is he even allowed to experience this… peace? Jayce thinks of blackboards and early mornings. Shit.

He makes quick work of taking off the old piece, only pinching himself thrice. He has to use a hammer to get the part on, and only knows it's working when Viktor turns on the hot water, and Jayce watches the valve give a satisfying pop!

Viktor turns off the water once he hears Jayce’s loud cheering from the basement.

By the time Jayce makes it upstairs, Viktor has set the table and poured them some water.

“Hey, I have a question.” Jayce sits, and squints at the boy in front of him. 

“Did you tell someone we were… married?” Viktor is in the middle of slicing the bread he baked to go along with the stew. He’s cutting it with a dagger, seeing as he doesn’t have kitchen knives at the moment. He freezes at the question. He does not blush.

“I meant to tell you—”

Jayce bursts out laughing. “You totally did!”

“I didn’t tell anyone we were married. I told them we were partners—”

“Oh, okay, sure!” Jayce grabs a slice of sourdough and bites it while laughing. It's only after he’s choked on the sourdough does he realize what he's eating.

“Wait, doesn’t sourdough take like a day to make?”

“It takes a couple hours, but I was able to accelerate the process.” Viktor tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and lifts his hand in front of Jayce's face, it glows blue for a moment and then stops. Jayce mumbles a quiet, Huh.

“Posing as a married couple might not be a bad idea, Jayce. We technically are war criminals, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of a backstory.” Jayce takes a big bite of his soup, chews it and thinks about the idea. Fuck, this soup is good.

“What is this? This is incredible.”

“Jayce, are you listening to me?”

To be honest, the idea scares him. Just how much acting would go into this? Jayce doesn’t know how gay people act, he’ll just embarrass himself, or Viktor. What if Viktor meets someone, or Mel might come looking for him! Would he… leave?

Jayce thinks about it. The soup still on his tongue makes his stomach lurch.   He wouldn't leave Viktor if the world was ending. But what if Viktor finds someone, and he can’t have them because they're fake married? Viktor never showed much interest in other women. Maybe he just… wasn’t interested in romantic relationships? Is that a thing?

“-ayce…”

He thinks about Libby calling Viktor his husband, and how his hands got sweaty. How he began to stammer, and stumble over his words. Was that discomfort? Or embarrassment? It was definitely embarrassing, but not because he was being called out as a gay man, but because he was being called out as being in love with Viktor. 

“Jayce.” 

Jayce looks up, eyes wide. He watches Viktor make a worried face, and slowly raises his spoon to his lips. 

“Listen, if it makes you uncomfortable we don’t have to do it.” Jayce blushes.
“I–” Jayce sets down the spoon before he snaps the wood in half. He stills, eyes swimming, looking past the wood of the table. Is he uncomfortable? Viktor begins to laugh, a quiet sound.

He hides it behind a hand, slipping it over his eyes, rubs his forehead. 

“Okay, okay. Look. Nothing will change between us, we will still be us. Partners, yes?” Jayce nods, hand anxiously covering his mouth.

“Then, let people think what they think. It's a good cover story. Call me your husband, partner, or just my name.  It's fine. We are still us, Jayce. We make the rules, yes?”

Jayce nods, metaphorical feathers unfluffing. Viktor smiles, and they eat in silence. 

Once they finish dinner, Jayce stands and clears the table. He washes the dishes, and puts them away once they dry. He washes his hands, smiling at the water's temperature.

When he walks into the bathroom, he notices how grimy the sink and shower are. He makes a note to clean it, but for now, he just wants to sleep. 

Which brings them to their next issue. Viktor has already made the bed, having spent the day also cleaning the bedroom. The bed is freshly made, and Jayces back fucking hurts.

“Listen, could we—”

“You can have—”
They stop speaking, and begin to chuckle, deliriously. 

“Alright, V. Lets just share for tonight, and figure it out tomorrow.” Jayce pulls his shirt over his head, and collapses onto the bed. Viktor shrugs, and pulls off his sweater, leaving him in the t-shirt he had on earlier. They lay down in the dark room, relaxing in a comfortable silence. 

They fall asleep to the sound of each other's breathing, finding comfort in each other's presence. 

–

Willy works Jayce to the fucking ground. 

This town is growing, and everyone needs something. Jayce wakes up at 6am, runs to the shop, and doesn’t stop working until Viktor comes with lunch at 1. Jayce almost moans when he sees Viktors goofy smile holding out a sandwich to Jayce. It's eaten within moments.

“Busy, huh?”

“Yeah. You?” Jayce grabs the second sandwich from the bag. He peaks, sees an apple and 2 more sandwiches. Viktor shrugs.

“Trying to fix the porch swing at the house is proving more difficult than I imagined. I think I’m going to start a garden.” They walk down the street, sit at a bench while Jayce inhales his food.

“I have a billion more things to make before getting home tonight, so don’t wait up on dinner. Willy has orders piled up for me dating back to 3 years ago. It’s insane.” Jayce grabs his water canister, the stolen one. He downs half of it.

“What kind of things are you making?” Viktor grabs the water from Jayce. Sips it politely, and screws on the cap.

“Tool orders are the big thing, everyone wants an axe. I don’t know why, we barely have any trees in this goddamn town.” He gestures wildly around him. “Also, just random boring stuff. Door hinges,  lamp stands— Oh! Someone ordered a breast plate! The barkeeper at the Oasis came in, asking if we could fix his speakers, because apparently someone blew them. I told him I could do it, but probably wouldn’t get to it today.” Jayce sighs, out of breath. It's only when he looks up to find Viktor’s raised eyebrows does he realize he’s been ranting.

“Sorry. There's just a lot on my plate right now.”

“No, no, It’s okay. You’re a very popular man.” Viktor teases, Jayce lets himself smile at the comment. He hums an approval. 

Viktor smiles and says he’s going to visit Meredith. Apparently she has some new clothing designs she wants to test out on Viktor. Jayce gives him a fearful look and wishes him luck. 

Jayce keeps his last sandwich for later, and tucks his paper bag under his arm. Back to work he goes. 

–

He still isn’t finished with everything by the time cicadas have begun to chirp outside. He checks the clock and finds it at 7pm. He decides to call it a night, his back hurts, and his hands are tired. He walks home slowly.

As he walks past the many shops lining the path, he thinks about Viktor. He must have already eaten, and cleaned up. Maybe he got around to fixing that porch swing they talked about. He probably did. Jayce absently rubs a hand on his inner wrist, taking a deep breath. Maybe Viktor’s too caught up on working on the house to eat, Jayce chuckles at the mental image of Viktor oiling hinges or scrubbing the shower.

As he walks past the bar, he hears loud laughter and music. Weird, he thinks. Aren’t their speakers broken? Jayce stops dead in his tracks. Who else in town knows how to fix tower speakers—? Jayce’s eyes almost pop out of his head.

He didn’t. 

Jayce opens the door to the bar, and finds Viktor being pulled into a dance by a man Jayce has never met. Viktor is smiling, cheeks flushed. The world goes quiet and deafeningly loud all at once. Jayce stands dumbly in the doorway. There are flashing lights, and metal paneling all around him. The colors and sounds bounce at him, but his gaze can’t be torn from the man across the room. 

Someone notices Jayce staring and cheers. 

“Viktor! You’re ride’s here!” Multiple women laugh. It's a packed house. Seems like it was some sort of celebration Jayce doesn’t recognize. Viktor is in the middle of it all.

There must be an inside joke, because Viktor snaps his head over to him and breaks into a smile. He’s wearing a new shirt. It’s black, with sleeves that kiss his elbows. He’s wearing pants much too tight for Jayces comfort, they flare out near his calves and flow as he swirls. He looks beautiful. And he’s… not using his cane. He spins easily, smiles bright. It’s dark in the room, but Jayce can see Viktor’s hair even through the multicolor lighting. It’s white. 

He’s using magic to heal his body.

So he can dance.

Jayce feels himself start to laugh. How ridiculous, and unlike himself. Just how drunk is he?

The music is shockingly electric, full of heavy bass and sharp sounds. It reminds Jayce of the music he would hear in the undercity. Viktor takes the hand of a random woman at the bar, and she giddily stands with him. Jayce makes his way to the bar. He’s handed a drink immediately. He drinks it without thought, and winces.

“What is this?” He shouts over the music. The bartender shrugs.

They begin to waltz and quickly dissolve into erratic spontaneous movements, laughing, and spinning each other. Viktor says something that makes them both laugh. 

Jayce is frozen, watching silently. What's weird is that Viktor is strangely good at dancing. He’s quick, and elegant. The woman almost steps on his feet and he only pulls her closer, both of them smiling wide. As the song builds and builds, Viktor keeps his hands on her waist, arm, hands, back. He never stops moving, and as the song ends, Jayce feels himself tense. On the closing note, Viktor grabs her hand, pulls her close and spins her out. Her summer dress twists around her beautifully. They hold the pose for a moment, and people cheer. They laugh and Viktor gives her a wave as she's pulled away by a boy who seems very upset at Viktor for getting anywhere near her. 

Viktor is still watching the girl, smiling softly as she begins to flirt with the man who took her hand. The next song begins to play. 

–

“Viktor! We’re gonna be late!” Jayce straightens his tie. Maybe a blazer was too much.

“Jayce, I’m not going.” Jayce spins around. Viktor looks like he’s going to puke. His face is as white as a sheet, and glistening with sweat.  Jayce hears the carriage pull up outside.

“Viktor, you’re going.” Jayce grabs the box, holding 3 months of hard work. They’ve been stressing over this competition since they heard about it. Viktor has been dreading it since he knew it existed.

“Jayce—”

Jayce swings an arm around his shoulder, pulls him along. He mumbles about how fun it’s going to be, and how they are definitely going to win. 

“Think of all the sponsors!” Jayce crawls into the carriage first, He helps Viktor up. Viktor groans.

It’s only once they start moving does Jayce notice how unstable the cogs are. He rummages around the box for a moment, and carefully takes a screwdriver out. Maybe he can tighten it quickly. Wait, this gear— Jayce feels panic well up in his stomach. Shit, how did they miss that?

One of these gears is completely smooth. 

He has to undo the side of the plating, take out the gear, and notch it. Viktor looks out the window, and shakes his leg. Jayce is NOT panicking. 

“These gears are bald, how did we miss that? Viktor, did you pack a file? Oh, nevermind there's one right here.” He sticks his hand deeper into the box, and pulls out a fine metal file. He begins to slice through the metal, working feverishly.

“Oh God…” Viktor mumbles, putting a hand over his mouth. 

“You okay, V?” Jayce doesn't look up from where he’s shaving away metal. He blows on it, and twists. 

“We need to pull over.” Viktor mumbles. Jayce almost misses it, God what if he didn’t notice this? The whole thing could’ve fallen apart. How did this not affect the test run—Wait. Pull over?

“What—”

Viktor opens the carriage door and stumbles out. 

“Viktor!” Jayce follows after him, almost getting his foot run over. The man driving them comes to a stop, cursing.

Viktor leans against a light post, and— 

“Oh god.” Jayce gags, slapping a hand over his mouth. Viktor is throwing up, leaning as far over as possible, trying to keep it off his white vest. Jayce swallows down his disgust and walks up to him.

He lays a hand on Viktor’s back, rubbing up and down. He holds his hand over his mouth and nose. Viktor curses. 

“Shit.” He spits, a string of saliva clings onto his lip. “Sorry.”

Oh. Jayce drops his hand, suddenly realizing how terrible a friend he’s being.

“No! Don’t apologize. I didn’t realize you were so nervous.” Viktor stands and wipes at his forehead. The carriage driver hands Viktor a water bottle. Viktor thanks him, mortified.

“Hey.” Jayce puts a hand on his shoulder. Viktor looks up, eyes watery. Jayce is smiling, confident, “We’re doing this together”

Viktor shakes his head. 

“What if it breaks?” Jayce shrugs. 

“Then it breaks.”

Viktor laughs, “Unbelievable.”

It doesn’t break, even though Jayce whispers, “It’s gonna break.” Under his breath a million times when the judge turns on the machine.

They win, obviously. Jayce drags him to the after party, much to VIktor’s annoyance. 

“Jayce, no. I can’t even dance!”

“Everyone can dance!” Jayce laughs, and pulls him into the middle of a dance floor. Jayce sways, smiling like an idiot. Viktor grips his cane and laughs in Jayce's face, overjoyed at their recent win. 

The song is loud, and Jayce recognizes it as a song all the girls in his class are obsessing over. He knows the lyrics because of the radio in their lab. Viktor hates this song. 

Jayce sings along to the lyrics, body reacting accordingly to the words, and actions. Viktor watches him with a spark in his eye, and only begins to do the same when the second chorus comes and Jayce pretends to hand him a microphone. 

They’re chests hurt from laughing, yelling, smiling.

Everything made sense then.

—

Jayce recognizes this song. He stands, eyes scanning and widening when he lands on the prize. Viktors eyes find him the second the first lyric plays, jaw dropping. 

“It’s our song!” Viktor mouths, and Jayce nods.

Suddenly Jayce is 20 again, and Viktor is still giddy from their recent win. Viktor watches Jayce make his way over, bobbing his head, face nonchalant. Viktor tilts his head, curious. The song hits a peak, and Jayce keeps his face blank, and begins to flail his hands, in something resembling a dance move. Viktor wants to die. 

“Stop.” Viktor pretends to plead. Jayce puts a hand on his own hip, doing a poor rendition of ‘The Hustle’.

“You can’t stop this.” Jayce doesn’t break eye contact, and only stops when he’s close enough to hold Viktor’s side, and sway with him. 

Viktor’s hair is still glowing white, falling in front of his eyes. His hands are on Jayce’s shoulders now, and his feet are still moving. Forward. Back. Jayce twirls him, laughs when Viktor strikes a pose on beat to the music, and pretends to pull Jayce forward. Jayce plays along, blushing hard. He spins him, circles him, laughs at him, watches him trip more than once. When Jayce can feel the song is coming to a close, he pulls Viktor close, and dips him low. Viktor is panting, chest heaving. Jayce is no better, panting hard, hands pressed against Viktor’s back. He holds him there, trapped in the moment. They stare, smiles wide. When Jayce raises him, he doesn’t immediately remove his hands. 

Jayce’s eyes are glued to Viktor’s white hair, his beauty marks, and bright eyes. His shirt is low cut enough that Jayce can see the curve of his collarbone, and the freckles dotting his skin. He slides his hand along Viktor’s lower back, pulling him closer. Someone whistles. Viktor’s shoulders relax, and he drops his head onto Jayce’s chest. 

“Alright. Take me home.” Defeat. Jayce chuckles. 

–

It's 2 months later when Jayce can finally walk into the house and not feel like he has a million things to fix. At one point, they had woken up to one of the porch’s main beams cracking.

Viktor ended up using some sort of telekinesis to hold the whole thing up while Jayce ran into town to get a new beam. (Turns out Libby is friends with practically everyone in that town. Jayce locates the town's lumberjack in minutes.) 

Other than that, the house is practically brand new. Viktor was in charge of painting and fixing up the electrical issues while Jayce made parts for a solar panel. He had to have Willy come over and help them put it together (Viktor does most of the heavy lifting using his…(power? magic?), letting his hands glow blue only for a moment when Jayce slips and the whole thing almost crashes to the ground). 

Jayce works at the Blacksmith most days, leaving before the sun has even risen.

He used to hate the idea of this. Living his life swinging a hammer, not truly making a difference in the world, it was his worst nightmare. But, when he finishes making a large order of horseshoes for Ms. Tamson, he finds himself smiling at the thought of his work being used to help her out. 

Viktor will swing by with lunch every day. He’s taken to being the town's tinkerer. He fixes bikes, toys, lamps, truly anything that breaks. Mothers flock to him with broken jewelry, children shove smashed toy trains into his hands, men reluctantly ask for help with replacing windows or fixing chairs. If Jayce is being honest, everyone is obsessed with Viktor. Jayce has heard chatter at the bars about the town's new eye candy. The baker and florists recognize Jayce as ‘pretty boy’s’ husband. 

“Tell him I said to come back soon!” They always say. Jayce tries not to let jealousy show on his face in those moments. Yeah yeah, he’d say and rush out the door with a bundle of flowers.

They are surprisingly good at fake marriage. No one has asked any questions, or suspects anything unusual. It makes Jayce feel a little confused, but it's one less thing for him to worry about, he supposes. 

Jayce likes this routine they have. Working, and then coming home to cook together. Jayce washes the dishes while Viktor clears the table and journals. It's his favorite part of the day, When everythings quiet and they just get to breathe. 

“Welcome home.” Viktor mumbles from the table, eyebrows furrowed. He's working on making a walker for Mrs. Meredith, the town's seamstress. Jayce hides the flowers behind his back, and walks up behind Viktor, one hand squeezing his shoulder. Viktor hums and looks up. 

Jayce makes a show of pulling them from behind his back. Viktor shakes his head. 

“What are these for?” 

“For you!...” Jayce blushes. Only now is he realizing how intimate this is. He originally got the flowers because their florist finally grew some chrysanthemums and they’re Viktor's favorite. And they are fake married, after all. Viktor stands.

“Thank you, Jayce.”

Instead of taking the flowers out of Jayce’s hands to smell them, he leans forward into Jayce’s space and inhales deeply. Jayce swallows loudly, and blushes. 

“Mmm,” He straightens up, and their fingers caress as Viktor pulls the flowers out of his hands. “These are my favorites.” He turns towards the kitchen, cane clacking quietly while Jayce tries to remember how to breathe normally again. 

“Yeah, I know. Beth keeps asking where you are.” Jayce follows him after a beat, watches as he cuts the stems off and grabs a vase from a cabinet under the counter. 

“The florist? I don't think she understands what being gay is.” Viktor fills the vase with water, and begins to trim the leaves off the flowers. 

Jayce gulps. Wait. 

“You're gay?” Viktor laughs. Jayce does not. 

“Oh, you're serious?” Jayces mind is spinning. Suddenly dots are being connected in his head. Oh, he thinks. Ohhhh. Images of Viktor back at the academy flash through his head. Images of him being walked home by random men, hickeys on his neck the next more, notes being left in his dorm. Jayce feels very stupid. 

“Yeah, no, that makes sense. Why didn't you tell me?” Jayce leans against the kitchen counter, looking out the window above the sink. 

He shrugs. “I thought you knew.” Viktor sets the flowers in the vase and begins to arrange them. Jayce watches his fingers gently twist and lift certain flowers to evenly spread the petals, ensuring no flower is hidden under another. He's gentle, and quick. His hands are pale, nails clean and neat. His fingers are long and beautiful. Jayce’s neck heats up. Viktor puts both hands on the vase, and lifts. Jayce shakes his head, breaking whatever spell he was under. 

“I'll have to go see her soon. I'll tell her my wonderful partner got me flowers. Maybe she'll take the hint then, hmm?” Viktor sets the flowers on the dining room table and sits down again. Jayce blushes. 

“You think I'm wonderful?” He sits down, and puts his head in his hands. Viktor hums. Jayce watches his Adam's apple bob as he makes the noise.

Living with Viktor is making Jayce go crazy. He’s begun to truly believe they are married. Sort of.

When Viktor stops to give him lunch, he finds himself saying, “Thanks, babe!” without a second thought. It's like second nature. Viktor had been shocked the first time Jayce said it, but brushed it off. 

Some mornings, Viktor will have curled into Jayce for warmth. Jayce will have his hand on Viktor’s thigh, face in Viktor’s hair. It's happened twice in the past week. 

The farmhouse only has one bedroom, so it's not like Jayce can sleep somewhere else. They don't even have a couch, yet. Maybe he should save up for that. 

Jayce is guilt ridden every time he pictures Viktor in that cream knitted sweater he stole from Jayce. Touching yourself while thinking about your best friend makes him feel like the world's biggest freak. However, almost every night he finds himself under the burning water of their shower and pictures Viktor over him, lips pulled into that smile he rarely shows Jayce, mumbling words Jayce would never admit to liking. 

It isn't a problem now, but it's only getting more and more thought consuming. 

Jayce is pulled out of his head by Viktor coughing. He doesn't think anything of it at first, but then he's coughing harder. By the time Viktor stops coughing, Jayce has stood, a hand rubbing his back. 

“I’m okay.” He waves off Jayce, taking a drink of water. Jayce frowns. 

“I don't believe that. How're you feeling?” He brushes back Viktor’s hair and flattens the back of his hand on his forehead. It's not cold, which is good. 

Viktor smacks his hand away. 

“Sit down.” Jayce sits so quickly Viktor jumps. He blushes, but refuses to let the topic change.

“You worrying like this doesn't help fix anything. I am okay, Jayce.” Viktor massages his temple, writing something on his paper. “I can feel… the magic leaving me. It's putting a strain on my body, which is causing a minor cough and body fatigue.” 

Jayces eyebrows furrow. “When did this start? Why didn't you tell me?” What if the lack of magic brings back his disease? What if it worsens it? Jayce looks at the flowers on the table. One of them is wilted. Jayce feels his breathing quicken. 

“I didn't think you needed to know—” Jayce is livid.

“I didn't need to know that you were in pain and hiding it from me?” 

“Its not like that, Jayce. I didn't want to tell you—” 

“Why not? This is serious!”

“I didn’t even know if you wanted to know—”

“Of course I want to know, I'm your fucking husband!” 

Ahh, whoops. Viktor looks like he’s been shot in the chest, leaning back. His eyes are filled with confusion, and a little bit of fear. Jayce sputters. Shit.

“Partner, I mean. I'm your partner.” Jayce turns away, hands shaking. 

Viktor is scarily quiet for a moment, and the music in the room awkwardly comes to a close, the needle sliding off the record. Jayce looks up when Viktor finally speaks, his voice gentle. 

“You work a lot more than me, and I didn't want to add any more stress to your life. My intention wasn't to betray your trust.” Viktor sighs. Confusion bubbles in Jayce chest. Another moment passes, but this time the noise in Jayce’s head almost causes him to miss Viktor’s words. 

 “I apologize, Jayce.” His head snaps up. 

“No, don't apologize, that was a complete overreaction!” Jayce rubs a hand down his face. “I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about you, all the time. It's irrational, completely. Some mornings I wake up and expect to find you gone, as if I imagined these past 3 months. But, I'm not entitled to know stuff. If you think it’s okay, then it’s okay.” 

Viktor gives a small smile and shakes his head. 

“We are both being ridiculous.” He lifts his hands and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. Jayce chuckles and stands. Maybe cooking will keep his mind off it. Viktor grabs his hand as he passes, stopping him. 

“Jayce.” He doesn't look up. Jayce freezes. 

“Yeah?” He rubs a thumb over the back of Viktors knuckles. Electricity shoots down his spine. 

“Thank you for worrying about me.” Jayce nods, and Viktor drops his hand. 

–

Viktor goes into town with a gift for Meredith. Every time he comes into her store, she leans on him more and more. Her body is quickly losing strength. Viktor has been working on a mobility device designed for her. He spent his whole life creating mobility devices for himself, so why not do it for someone else for a change?

He was able to make it compact enough to bring into town without worry of hurting his leg too much from the journey. When he walks into the shop, Meredith is sitting behind the counter, knitting something.

“Viktor!” She sings happily. Viktor smiles. 

“Hello Ms. Meredith. I have made something for you.” Meredith has already stood, walking around the counter, gripping it tightly. She freezes when her gaze falls onto the device. 

“I hope you don’t find this insulting, but I made this for you.” Viktor pops open the walker, its rose gold stability shining in the sunlight.

“I understand the struggle of having a body that doesn’t want to work as hard as you do, so I thought—”

Viktor is being pulled into a hug, and he chuckles softly. He isn’t a fan of physical affection, but he lets her hold him for as long as she wants.

She asks him how it works and giggles when he falls into the seat and it scoots back slightly.

“You hold here to take some of the burden when standing and sitting. It has swivel wheels which will allow you to turn quicker, and make it less awkward when going around corners and such.” Viktor shows her how it all works, how to use the breaks, and how to properly use her arms to her advantage without putting too much strain on them. 

She asks how long he’s been using a cane, and he tells her since he was 4. She gasps, and hugs him again. 

“When did you start making them for yourself?” Viktor does not answer her. He just gives her a sad smile. She gasps, and calls him an angel.

“How is your husband deary?”

“He is… a lot.” Viktor admits. He thinks of worrying eyes following his every move. He thinks of coming home to new books, a glass of water, a new cane. 

“He made you a cane? She asks, obviously confused. He did just say he’s always made his own canes. He rubs the back of his neck,

“Yes well…I lost the other one, and was using an old tree branch for a while— so he made me this one.” Viktor lifts the blue cane up, the golden detail shines in the light. Meredith stares at it, mesmerized. 

“He must love you a lot, to learn how to make things like that.” Viktor chuckles. 

“Something like that… ” Viktor shrugs. Meredith chuckles, shaking her head. She tilts her head, a cunning look on her face.

“I spoke with him the other day. Recognized him from the dashing shirt you got him. He was quite the specimen.” Viktor laughs at that. Meredith sits down with a noise. 

“Was he?” Viktor is blushing, he sniffles, unsure of what to do with his fingers. 

“Something was a little off though.” Meredith squints, and her lips purse. “No ring.”

Viktor keeps his face under control. He’s a good liar, but he doesn’t necessarily want to lie to her. Its been gnawing at him, too. This whole fake marriage thing. He thinks of the flirty baker the next door over and how he had to awkwardly explain he was taken. He thinks about cosmic promises, and tight grips.

“We technically aren’t married, Mrs. Meredith.” Viktor admits, looking out the window. 

“I know, deary.” 

“It’s complicated.” Viktor grips his cane. 

“I’m sure.” She puts a hand on top of Viktors. “That boy spoke about you like someone who was missing something. Like he was yearning for something he was supposed to already have. Whatever is going on between the two of you is none of my business. But don’t doubt for a second that he is undeniably in love with you.” Viktor is unbelievably embarrassed but thanks her regardless. 

Viktor walks home with a new project in mind. He remembers the feeling of Jayce’s hand in his hair, holding his hand as their bodies were ripped to pieces. He remembers not feeling scared. He remembers. 

Viktor thinks about going home and just walking up to him, announcing his feelings, and getting it over with. However, Jayce is already so fragile right now, constantly worried. Not to mention how much he works. Viktor would be selfish to announce it now. They need time. He walks home with a smile.

He pictures Meredith asking Jayce about him. How Jayce probably got all blushy and flustered. Meredith said Jayce talked about him like he was missing something. Viktor decides to give him more, if only a little bit. It couldn’t hurt. 

–

Things go well the next couple weeks. Jayce and Viktor continue to live in domestic bliss, even if Jayce does have a few night terrors and Viktor has some more coughing fits. Willy has been keeping Jayce busy at the workshop because of Fall creeping up on them. The work days stretch longer and longer and Jayce never really has time to talk to Viktor anymore. 

He comes home one night to the front door wide open. Jayce notices it from down the road, and quickened his pace. The trees surrounding the house block his view but it only takes him a moment to notice. 

Viktors collapsed on the front porch, next to the broken porch-swing. Jayce is sprinting, his leg brace loudly clicking as he runs. He drops to his knees, lifting Viktor’s head, pulling him into his lap. His voice is steady even as tears fall rapidly. 

“Viktor wake up. Fuck—” Jayce grabs under Viktor’s knees and picks him up quickly. He runs into the house, holding him close. He's cold. 

Jayce runs to the bathroom, leaning Viktor onto his chest to free one hand, turning the shower to hot. He waits a minute, patting Viktor’s back the whole time, rocking him helplessly.

“Viktor, please. Fuck, you're so cold. Baby, hey, Please please please.” Once the water is hot, Jayce steps out of his shoes and steps under the water. He sits, and lets the water fall onto Viktor’s head. 

“Please please please, wake up. Please baby, please.” He's sobbing, clutching onto the back of Viktor’s hair for dear Life. 

Viktor suddenly tenses, and gasps. Jayce uses a hand to hold his face. 

“Hey, fuck , hey it's okay.” Jayce rubs his cheek, rubs his neck, trying to warm up his body. God, he's still cold. 

“Jayce, what—?” Viktor’s hair is getting in his eyes from the water. Jayce doesn't let him finish talking. He presses their lips together and feels Viktor freeze under him. 

He pulls away and presses their foreheads together. 

“Fuck, don't scare me like that.” Viktor has his hands balled in Jayce’s shirt, eyes wide. Jayce pushes his hair back and sobs. 

Viktor shivers at the sudden heat coating his body. He feels Jayce shake against his shoulder and lifts a hand to cradle his head. 

“I’m okay, I just fainted Jayce.” He shivers again, and feels Jayce’s hot hands slip under his shirt. Jayce curls around Viktor’s small frame, chest burning. Viktor shifts so he can straddle Jayce’s legs. shifting his weight to his knees. Jayce looks up at him. The water falls down Viktor’s back, soaking the now heavy knitted sweater. Jayces hands grip Viktor’s hips. He's hyperventilating.

“You need to breathe, Jayce.” Viktor grips both sides of his face and smashes their foreheads together. Jayce’s breathing slowly goes back to normal. Once Viktor’s skin is a healthy pink, Jayce allows Viktor to turn off the water, and stand. Jayce follows quickly after, and they quickly take off their clothes. 

They were drenched, obviously, and Jayce had to have Viktor help him take his leg brace off so it doesn't rust. They strip their under garments and towel off. Jayce has stopped crying, but he insists on toweling dry Viktor’s hair, and holds out his arm for Viktor to grab while they walk to their bedroom. 

Viktor’s cheeks are bright red, and it's making Jayce worried. 

“Are you too hot now? Why is your face red?” Viktor laughs, and shakes his head. Jayce sits him down on the bed and grabs new clothes for him, politely turning around so he can change out of the soaking briefs. 

“If I'm remembering correctly,” He has the new briefs pulled up, and tugs one of Jayce’s shirts over his head. “It's because of you.” 

Jayce waits until Viktor has turned the other direction before he tugs off his own underwear, replaces it. Jayce squints into the dark of the room, turning to look at Viktor.

“Look, I didn't know what to do. I thought maybe the hot water would shock your body awake, and plus, you were freezing—!” Viktor cuts him off with a chuckle. 

“Come here.” He pats the blanket but Jayce kneels in front of Viktor, almost eye level this way. 

“J-Jayce—” 

Jayce reaches up, tucking a piece of damp hair behind Viktor’s ear. 

“I was panicking, Okay? In the moment it felt right.” 

“Okay.” Viktor breathes. They're so close. 

“Okay.” 

–

Jayce takes some time off work, explains that Viktor is sick and Jayce needs to stay home with him. Libby comes to check on them one afternoon, after Jayce hasn't stopped by for a couple days.

 They're still in bed, Viktor is napping while Jayce reads one of the many books left in this house.  It's quiet. Viktor is laying on Jayce, practically on top of him. Jayce has a hand in his hair, absently rubbing behind his ear. They’ve been glued to each other since the whole ‘fainting incident’. Jayce’s separation anxiety has only gotten worse, and Viktor is eating every bit of attention out of the palm of the younger boy's hand (though he’ll never admit it).

A knock on the front door has Jayce putting his book down. He tries to lay Viktor onto the bed gently, kissing his forehead. Viktor hums and tries to pull him back. 

“One second, baby.” He stands and walks to the door quickly. 

He unlocks it, and swings it open. 

Libby bursts in, slipping past his legs. 

“Where have you been, mister? I thought you DIED! Or worse, LEFT!!” Jayce rolls his eyes. 

“Shhh, Viktors sleeping.” He moves to the kitchen to grab her some water. She obviously biked here, god knows why. 

Her eyes shoot open, a hand slaps over her mouth. “Whoops, sorry. Do you think i woke him up?” She stage whispers.

“Too late.” Viktor walks into the room, hand running through his hair. Jayce’s chest warms at the sight. He’s using his crutch to walk, wearing Jayce’s shirt that practically reaches his knees. He's wearing cotton PJ bottoms, and flicks Jayce’s forehead on the way past. 

“I told you to only let me sleep for 30 minutes.” He mumbles as he walks past.

“You looked so cute, I didn't want to wake you.” Viktor rolls his eyes. 

“Mr. Viktor!! How are you feeling?” She runs over, hugging his legs. He pats her head. 

“I'm okay. My partner has been taking good care of me.” She bounces away. Viktor turns on the stove, putting the kettle on. Jayce jumps up to help him with it, pushing him to sit down. 

“Ms. Meredith keeps asking about you. I’ll have to tell her you're alive!” Libby moves to put her shoes back on. Jayce frowns. 

“Where are you headed, kid?” 

“Pops needs me back in the shop before lunch. I just wanted to stop by real quick and see both you guys.” She salutes and leaves quickly. Jayce and Viktor wave her off, and smile as she jumps on her bike, peddling her heart out. 

The kettle sings in the kitchen. Jayce makes quick work of some green tea. He brings a cup to Viktor. He hums a thank you. 

Instead of taking the seat next to Viktor, he sits on the floor, and puts his head on Viktors lap. 

“What's wrong?” Viktor’s eyes widened. He drags fingers through Jayces scruffy hair. 

“Mmjust…” He turns his face into Viktors thighs. They're meatier than they were a couple months ago. Jayce blushes. 

“Happy…” He kisses where his face is, and hears Viktor suck in a breath. Jayce turns his head and looks up at him. Viktor’s beet red. He thinks of what Meredith said a couple weeks ago. He feels himself smirk.

“You look like a little puppy like this.” 

Jayce makes a noise similar to the kettle earlier. He shoots up so fast, he smacks his head into the table. He grabs it and stands. Viktor chuckles. 

“What? What did I say?” 

Jayce turns so his back is to Viktor, refuses to turn around. Fuck. 

“I think I'm going to change. Get ready for the day and all that. Let me know if you need anything!” Jayce runs to the bathroom without another word. 

Viktor laughs. 

–

Being married to Viktor is exactly as stressful as Jayce imagines it would be. Sorry, fake married.

Jayce insists they stay at home, relaxing for a while, since Viktor’s body is still recovering from the Arcanes' absence. Viktor, well… it's easier to just show you. 

“Viktor?” Jayce barely has his eyes open, petting Viktor’s hair as he begins to feel the sun's rays on his cheek. Except he isn’t petting Viktors head, he’s petting his pillow. Shit. 

He shoots up, barely pulling on some pants before he’s hopping down the hallway. A strong smell meets his nose. 

“Viktor!” Jayce turns the corner, finding Viktor’s naked torso leaning over the stove. 

“Good morning, Jayce.” He coughs into a handkerchief, other hand leaning on his cane. Jayce slides two hands down his face. 

“Why are you cooking?” He is supposed to be resting. Viktor told him he wouldn’t put any unneeded stress on his body. 

“Because I was hungry, why else do people cook?” His hair is a mess, and he’s only wearing one sock. Jayce can only imagine Viktor sneaking out of bed, not wanting to get dressed in case he makes unnecessary noise to wake Jayce. 

“Viktor!” Jayce’s voice lifts, practically whining. Viktor’s shoulders shake. Jayce comes up behind him to see what he’s making. French toast. 

“You are unbelievable.” He doesn’t mean to sound as fond as he does. It’s not the only time Viktor has stubbornly gone against Jayce’s wishes for him to rest. It happens the next day, like clockwork.  

“Jayce, I’m going into town for some groceries. Would you like to come?”

“Wh— I was just in town yesterday. How do we already need more groceries?” Jayce puts down the blueprint he’s holding. Viktor slips his arms into the sleeves of a jacket. The leaves are falling outside. 

“Someone forgot to get eggs. Plus, I need a haircut.” Viktor walks to the door, sitting to put on his shoes. Jayce pouts, and only agrees to go when Viktor shrugs and begins to leave without him.

“I’ll go, I’ll go.” He finally agrees, running to change out of his PJs. 

They walk to town, bickering about nonsense.

“You are ridiculous.” Viktor shakes his head, cane clinking against the smooth dirt path. Jayce snaps his head over at him, disgust written on his face. 

“Why, because I like doing things that are less time consuming?”

“No, that is not it. The way you wash clothes can increase the lifetime of the clothing item.”

“Yeah, well you can always just buy more!” Jayce flails his hands. Viktor shakes his head. 

“You with that ego. Not everyone had the privilege to just, go get more clothes.” Jayce’s smile drops. Oh, shit.

“You’re right, my bad.”

“However, even if I did have that privilege, I would still separate blacks from whites.”

“What!” Jayce is laughing now. They’re in town, and Jayce has gotten a couple looks. They all shoot Viktor knowing smiles. 

“It’s a myth! You don’t have to separate the colors if you just wash them in cold water—” Jayce jogs ahead to hold the door for Viktor. They were eating at the town's small bar. Viktor rolls his eyes. 

“Perhaps, but I have found it’s the small things that keep our minds sharp, Jayce.” Viktor sets down his cane, and scowls at Jayce when the taller boy begins to help him out of his coat. Jayce doesn’t notice.

“Oh, so now my mind’s not sharp?” Jayce slides into the seat across from him, and flashes his canines at him. Viktor rolls his eyes. 

“Your mind is very sharp.”

“Mmm,” Jayce hums, pursing his lips to stop another smile from spreading across his face. The waitress comes over to take their order, but ends up recognizing Viktor, and Jayce has to sit and watch his partner get blatantly flirted with in front of his face. Once they’ve finally put their order in, Jayce lets his annoyance show. He sticks his tongue out at her the second she turns away to go make their drinks. 

“I didn’t take you as the jealous type.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t take you as the flirty type.” Jayce teases, thanking the waitress for the drinks she sets down. Viktor rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t?” Viktor sips his water. Jayce watches his throat curve as he swallows. “Maybe you aren’t as sharp as I thought.” Jayce kicks his good foot under the table. Viktor laughs. 

They eat quickly, however Jayce takes a lot longer, since he talks in between every bite. Viktor has to remind him to not talk with his mouth full twice. Jayce always liked eating out, he thought it was fun. He didn’t have to worry about doing dishes, or being a good host. Viktor admits he doesn’t mind it, but has a weird view of it since he used to be a server. 

“Wait, really?” Jayce asked around the bite of a french fry. 

“Mmhm,” Viktor sucks some sauce off his thumb before continuing, “In Zaun, being a server was a good way to make money. I started my first job when I was 15. That's where I met Professor Heimerdinger.” Viktor takes another bite of his sandwich, politely. Jayce almost chokes on his next bite. 

“I never knew this. I didn’t even know 15 year olds could legally serve.”

“They couldn’t.” Viktor uses his napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth. Jayce, his hands in front of him curled into claws, sniffles. His fingers are coated in sauce. Maybe getting hot wings wasn’t the best idea for a quick lunch outing. Viktor is watching him with a smile. 

“Damn, V. I didn’t realize you were a criminal.” He bites into another chicken wing. Viktor shakes his head. 

“I did a lot of illegal things when I was a child. Theft, trespassing, tax fraud, all the normal things.” Jayce chews with a deadpan look. 

“Ah yes, the normal things.”

They finish up eating quickly. Viktor stacks their plates neatly and rolls his eyes when Jayce downs his drink in seconds. He tries to wipe off his hands but ends up just going to wash them off in the bathroom. Viktor grabs Jayce’s wallet out of his back pocket as he walks past. He doesn’t notice. Viktor rolls his eyes. Too easy, he thinks.

He pays the tab and leaves a large tip to make up for the mess Jayce left. When Jayce comes back, he’s got clean hands and a smile.

“Okay, haircut time.” He grabs his coat off the rack and freezes. Viktor has grabbed his chin, tilted his head towards him. Jayce watches as Viktor brings a thumb to his mouth and licks. Suddenly that wet thumb is wiping at his cheek. Viktor grabs another napkin from the dispenser on the booth's table and wipes his thumb clean. 

“Yes, haircut time.” He finally agrees, and gestures for Jayce to lead the way. Jayce holds back an embarrassing noise and grabs the door for him once again. 

Jayce is introduced to the town's hairdresser, Andy. She has pink curly hair that dangles past her waist, and skin the color of chocolate.  Jayce only has the chance to say, “NOT TOO SHORT—” Before he is being pushed out of the building. Something about lawsuits, and patient confidentiality. Viktor gives him a cute little wave, cheeks flushing. 

“Goodbye, my love.” He is able to sneak in, as the door is closed in his face. There, that should stop anyone in the shop from flirting. He pats himself on the back.

He wanders town, deciding to go bother Libby while Viktor gets pampered by some lady who obviously wants to talk his ear off. 

When he turns the corner, his heart stops.

3 enforcers stand in front of Libby's shop, all holding up a photo of the Machine Herald. Jayce’s stomach drops at the sight. It's a detailed drawing of Viktor’s emotionless face. It is not his Viktor, and it looks nothing like him, but it's still incredibly worrisome.

He turns around, glancing through the shopkeeper's window. He can see Viktor sitting in the hairdressers chair, laughing at something she said. He looks so beautiful, unbothered. Happy.  

Jayce turns back to the enforcers, and frowns.

Libby walks out the shop doors and stops dead in her tracks at the sight of the masked men. She taps on one of the man's arms, and he spins around. 

“Hey kid, have you seen anyone who looks like this?” To Jayces horror, they also have a drawing of him. He looks much younger, without his beard, shorter hair. These photos look nothing like him. Why would they use photos so different from how he looked when he left? He knows people saw, so who?— Cait. Cait must have drawn these. 

Goddamnit.

He watches as Libby looks over the photos. She has to recognize him, and has to notice the split face of Viktors features. His sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes. She was the first person in town to help him, after all. She was the first person in town to notice Viktor. She saw Jayce’s tattered clothes, a peculiar request to help find his ‘totally not suspicious partner’. She saw him come in from the north, the road leading from Piltover. 

“There are dozens of Piltovian men who walk through these streets, sirs. We have the best medicine in the west, so it's not uncommon. This man, I’ve not seen him, but that might just be because I wasn’t lookin’. But this thing?” She stabs at the picture of Metal Viktor with her finger. 

“I think I would have noticed that.” She puts her hands on her hips, and gives a big smile. The enforcers sigh and look at eachother.

“You said this man may have stopped by?”

“Maybe, I dunno!” She shrugs, eyebrows raising. “All I know is if I had enforcers chasing me, I wouldn’t hunker down in the next town over. Only an idiot would do that.”

The enforcers turn to look at each other again. When they do, Libby darts her eyes to Jayce. She winks. Jayce feels a large sigh fall from his lips, and he smiles. 

The enforcers leave in a carriage, dozens of eyes following their departure. Once they're out of sight, Jayce coolly walks over to LIbbies antique store. The bell rings.

“You have some explaining to do.” Libby is standing on the table, pointing a lollipop at his head. Willy sits behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper.

“Libby, leave it.” Willy warns. Libby frowns, 

“But–”

“Liberty. He doesn’t have to tell you nothin’.” Willy watches as her hand falls, and she drops to her knees. 

“Fine. But you still aren’t off the hook mister! You owe me!” Jayce shakes his head.

“Why did you do that? Why didn’t you just tell them?” Libby and Willy give each other a look, and then burst out laughing. 

“Man, you really are a rich Pilty aren’t you? How does Viktor do it?” Willy puts down his newspaper and stands. He walks over to Jayce, clasping a hand on his shoulder as he passes. 

“You’re like family, boy. Can’t get rid of us, and we can’t get rid of you.” He pats him, and walks out, turning to head to the workshop the next door down. 

Jayce almost wants to cry, chest tightening. Libby comes up to his legs, and taps him. He looks down.

“You can never get rid of us.” She hisses in the creepiest voice she can muster. Jayce laughs and grabs her, and picks her up, pretending to throw her out the window. Her legs flail in the air. She screeches loudly, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. 

He ends up helping Libby fix some stuff they just got in while waiting for Viktor to get done with his hair. 

“You need a haircut too. The beard is a good look, but it’s getting a little…” She gestures weirdly to her own face. Jayce nods. 

“You think it's a little too scruffy?” He twists the screwdriver in his hand skillfully. Libby nods. 

“I could do it for ya! I shave pops.” She says matter-of-factly. Jayce raises an eyebrow. He imagines Libby trimming Willy’s perfectly maintained beard.

“Really?”

“Yep!”

–

That’s how Jayce finds himself in Willy and Libby’s bathroom above the shop, trying not to hyperventilate at the fact an 8 year old has a knife pressed to his face. It takes her about 10 minutes to finish. She only knicks him twice, and claims it's because he’s “Twitching like a bunnies nose.” Jayce thinks that's some bull. 

When he looks in the mirror, it actually looks pretty good. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth down the white strand that keeps falling in front of his eyes. When they head downstairs and open the door to the street, Viktor is waiting for him. 

His hair is short, sides trimmed neatly. It's fluffy on his head, and the white pieces in his undercut are almost unnoticeable.  He looks as beautiful as the day they met.

“Holy shit.”

“Jayce, language.” Viktor scowls at him, and oh god it's so beautiful. Libby snorts and salutes playfully before running back to the shop. Viktor tilts his head, and says. “Did you trim your beard?”

Jayce stumbles forward, careful to not knock Viktor off balance when he lifts him. One hand wraps around Viktor’s waist, while the other holds his cheek. Viktor shouts, laughing. His cane clatters to the ground next to them. He’s suddenly overcome with relief. Seeing the enforcers, and being away from him when he hasn’t been feeling well left Jayce more anxious than he realized.

“You look very handsome.” Jayce finally speaks. Viktor gapes, eyebrows raised, exasperated. 

“Thank you, so do you.” Jayce wants to kiss him again. He almost does, when Viktor speaks. His accent curling around the words, teasing Jayce’s brain. It’s only when he catches the eye of a knowing woman walking by, does he set him down, reaching awkwardly to grab the cane he dropped. 

“Let's go home, yeah?” He says, smoothing Viktor’s jacket.

“Jayce, we still need to get eggs.” Viktor smiles, tilting his head. Jayce meets his eyes, and feels his brain fizzle. 

“Right, yeah. Eggs.” Jayce shakes his head, trying to dislodge the fireworks that are popping in his ears every time their eyes meet. How was he supposed to fight off the woman in town now? He was having trouble before, but now? He couldn’t even handle the whispers when Viktor looked feminine, but now that he really looked like Viktor? Jayce feels himself move without a thought. He leans forward, pulling Viktor into an embrace, and presses a chaste kiss to his neck. 

“I have the worlds hottest husband.” He mumbles, hand gripping the back of Viktors neck, now exposed to the wind. He feels Viktor laugh, the sound vibrating his lips where they’re pressed. Someone passes them and whistles. 

“Jayce, not in public.”

Not in public? Jayce pulls away, eyes wide. 

“Don’t give me puppy-dog-eyes.”

Jayce’s head is reeling. Not in public?

Wait, what are they even doing right now? Jayce removes himself from Viktor completely. Was he doing that because they were in public, and he knew people would see? Was that him playing his part as love-sick husband? Viktor said, not in public. But they never did stuff like this in private. It had to be in public, or it couldn’t happen. Jayce wishes he would’ve let him keep talking. As long as he’s in front of others, he can say what he wants right? But Viktor…

Viktor was… playing along. Did he enjoy being called hot?

‘Fake marriage’. Fuck. Jayce holds his aching head and follows Viktor to the cart full of animal products down the street. Was that him acting? He didn’t even think about it, just swooped in and mumbled words he felt at that moment. But Viktor… Viktor wasn’t actually his husband. Jayce’s blush reaches his chest at this point, and Viktor is talking, and he’s pretending to listen. 

Did Jayce really think Viktor looked hot? Viktor looks up from where he’s inspecting jars of cream, says something, and tilts his head. Jayce feels electricity shoot up his body when their eyes lock. He dances his eyes along Viktor’s face, his eyes, his jaw, his fucking hair.

“Jayce, Are you listening?”

“Yep!” He nods, lying. Viktor gives him a dangerous look. 

“Good, so you’ll build it then?”

“Yep!” He nods, again. The cart worker snorts out a laugh, obviously finding them very amusing. Viktor turns to her and gives a, ‘get a load of this guy’ gesture, thumb pointing towards him.

They pay, and Jayce carries the bag she hands them. They listen to the sounds of wind rustling in the trees. Turns out the thing Jayce agreed to build was a chicken coup, and now Viktor is explaining where he wants it, and how he wants it made. 

“What, you aren’t going to help me?” Jayce asks.

“I am. I’m going to build the door.” Viktor shoves his hand into his pocket. “It’s going to be automatic, set on a– a timer of sorts.”

“How will the chickens know when the door is going to close, though? Won’t they just get locked out, and freeze?”

Viktor smiles, “We’ll train them.” Jayce shakes his head and laughs. 

“You mean, You’ll train them.”

“We will do it together.” Viktor teases, bumping their shoulders. It's cloudy today, and the lack of sun has goosebumps rising on Jayce’s arms when a particularly harsh wind passes over them. 

“Not in public.” Maybe he was being serious. Maybe that wasn’t Viktor acting like the physical display of affection was bothering him as a husband. Maybe it genuinely bothered him, and he would rather Jayce did it at home. Would Viktor be okay with that? Could he… try?

When they get home Jayce puts the newly acquired eggs into the fridge. Viktor announces that he’s going to work on the chicken coop blueprints and leaves Jayce to clean up the kitchen. Jayce washes last night's dishes, and thinks about how he could go about asking him about it.

‘Hey V, I have legit romantic feelings for you! Is that cool?’ What if he says no?

They live in a one bedroom, one bathroom home, in the middle of the country. Is he supposed to move out? Stay here and live everyday in guilt and shame? Would Viktor still allow him to take care of him? Is Jayce even supposed to be taking care of him now? Has he been blind to Viktor’s discomfort this whole time?

The whole cosmic conversation Jayce had with Viktor still looms over his head. He called him beautiful, and his whole world. Does Viktor already know about his feelings? He has kissed him, and they did say their relationship was up for interpretation between each other, but that doesn’t change the fact the relationship has to now be interpreted. Jayce sets the dishes onto a clean washcloth, hands working quickly. He looks at his own fingers, noticing the scars, the years of hard work ingrained into his skin. 

He imagines a ring on his finger. He drops the plate he’s holding, swearing. His heart pounds. The plate doesn’t break, thank god. He picks it up and rinses it off, setting it with the others. He needs to chill out, take a cold shower, or maybe get hosed off outside. He dries his hands and leans against the counter, watching the dirty water swirl down the drain. 

He imagines what it would have been like if they lived here their whole lives. Met in passing, maybe Jayce will bump into him and catch him before he falls. He’ll apologize, and they’ll lock eyes. Maybe he would instantly feel a connection, and Jayce would ask him out. Viktor would accept, not wanting to be rude. 

They would bond over their shared dreams to make the world a better place, and their shared love for science. Maybe Viktor would invite him over to his small farm house and they would spend countless hours talking in the dining room about hypothetical inventions and magical theories.

Maybe they would be friends at first, and then maybe their hands would brush while reaching for the same book, or paper, or pen. Maybe Viktor would blush, and Jayce would chuckle. Maybe they would be shy, or nervous, or unsure. Jayce would apologize and Viktor would say it’s fine.

Maybe they would be too close, maybe they would kiss. Viktor would lean in first, and Jayce would be overjoyed. Maybe people would notice in town, mention it, ask if something is going on between them. Jayce would shrug it off and blush, Viktor would shake his head fondly. Maybe Jayce would then move in, and they would go steady. 

Maybe they would fight over equations, work schedules, or the correct way to fold a shirt. Maybe they would yell, or spit words they don’t actually mean. Maybe they would make up, and forgive, and kiss. Maybe Jayce would save up money, and buy materials for a ring. Maybe he would go in extra early to work to craft it, asking Willy for his input, and maybe he would have Ms. Meredith make him a new shirt. Maybe he would have a candlelit dinner, and buy red wine at the market for the special occasion. 

Viktor would be confused, but flattered. He’ll know Jayce has something planned, but he’ll never expect he’s actually going to propose, because why would he? They don’t need labels, or rings, or dinners, because they know what they are. He would simply do it so that Viktor knows he’s worth the work, that he deserves the action. He should have the pleasure of being flattered, and a little bit embarrassed. 

Jayce will burn the food, and Viktor will ask him why he’s so nervous, and they haven't even eaten yet, but Viktor looks so pretty in the kitchen's moonlight, and Jayce will be nervous and shaky and he’ll panic and take the ring out of his pocket.

He’ll say his name. 

“Viktor.” His voice only breaks a little bit. Viktor still has oven mitts on, holding the burnt casserole in his hand.  Jayce will definitely cry, getting down on one knee, and Viktor will smack him with his cane, telling him to stand up. Viktor will tell him that's a ridiculous tradition and that he doesn’t have to make himself smaller in order to be worthy of Viktor’s hand. 

Jayce will chuckle, and ask “So is that a yes?”

Viktor will tell him to shut up, and use his cane to pull him closer. Jayce will yelp and they’re lips with smash together, and Viktor will smile into it and Jayce is still crying.

“What else would it be?” Viktor will mumble against his lips, and Jayce will pick him up, spinning him with a giddy smile. They would bang into walls, and stumbled to the bedroo—

“Jayce?” Jayce jumps comically, lost in thought. He blushes hard. 

“Y-es?” His voice cracks. He clears his throat. “Yes.” He deepens.

“Are you feeling alright? You have been looking at the sink for a couple minutes now.” Viktor has both hands on his cane, hip popped on his good leg. Jayce only stares for a moment before he gets a burning feeling in his chest. His brain is going a mile a minute. What if… 

His feet are moving before he thinks anything of it. 

What if he was being serious? Not in public.

Jayce tilts his head to the side, stepping close to Viktor, closer and closer until his breath is sending goosebumps over the older man's neck. Viktor just barely tilts his head, allowing Jayce’s forehead to rest on the line of his throat. Jayce’s hands find Viktor’s waist easily, hesitantly resting his hands where his shirt ends and his pants start. 

“I meant it, you know.” Jayce says, the words come from somewhere deep in his chest. They enter Viktor’s ears and sit low in his gut. Jayce’s hands tighten when he hears Viktor let out a puff of air through his nose.

Viktor brings a hand up to the back of Jayces head, and cups there. “I know.” He says, cockily. Jayce feels a small flame of hope flicker in his chest.

“You know like you know or…You know, like …you know.” Jayce feels stupid. This is stupid. Viktor chuckles. 

“What are you talking about?”

Jayce shrugs.

“I’m so bad at this.” He admits.

“Ehh.” Viktor sorta denies. Jayce lifts his head, defensively. 

“What do you mean, ehh.” He mocks, hand moving to grip Viktor’s hip. The shorter boy shrugs. 

“I mean you need more practice.” Viktor pats a hand on his shoulder. Jayce looks offended by the gesture, mouth screwing up into a grimace.

“What? Practice with what!” Jayce follows the giggling Viktor to the bedroom. When they lay down, Viktor is still giggling, shoulders shaking in the moonlight. Jayce pushes him and tells him to knock it off, a blush coming to his cheeks. They fall asleep smiling. 

–

Jayce is building the chicken coop. He is. 

“Viktor what the fuck is this.” He calls out.

“Language. What are you looking at?” 

Viktor’s sketches are as messy as ever. Rushed, and complicated. Jayce feels frustration bubble in him. They used to always have this issue back when they were working on hextech. 

“V, these are impossible to read. I can’t tell if this is part of the coop’s roof or a measurement. And what is this thing, an 8?” Jayce points at some random symbol. Viktor takes the paper out of his hand, breath puffing into the cold air. He reads it and sticks it back out for Jayce to grab. 

“That is a chicken.”

“You drew a chicken in your chicken coop blueprint?” Jayce feels a headache behind his eyes. Viktor turns to go back inside, shivering at the cold air.

“Yes, Is that a crime?” Viktor steps onto the deck, but still manages to hear Jayce’s whispered curses. 

“Quit the goddamn cursing, Jayce, or you don’t get any dinner!” 

Jayce rolls his eyes. Hypocrite, he thinks. He knows better than to say it out loud. 

Jayce has been up since dawn making this thing, and he’s making very slow progress. Viktor comes out every other minute to check up on the work, pointing at small cracks in the wood with his cane and complaining when Jayce says it's fine. He’s hovering. However, Jayce has finished the platform, which means he just needs to create support beams. Viktor can’t start making the automatic door until tomorrow because Libby's shop is closed on Sunday, so he’s taken to pestering Jayce out of boredom. 

“Are you almost done?”

“V! Leave me alone!”

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“Anything! Just, Let me focus.”

“This is ridiculous.” He turns to walk away, but spins around to get one more word in. “If I wasn’t a fall risk right now, I would have already had this thing built yesterday.”

“Oh sure you would’ve! Go inside, you fainting goat!” Jayce teases. Viktor flips him off, and slams the screen door. Jayce laughs. 

Viktor is very excited to have chickens, and has already gone to the library to check out books on raising chicks. 

Jayce works on all four walls, and adds in a hinge window so it’s easier to grab the eggs. He catches Viktor watching from the window and pretends he doesn’t see him. He blushes. Jayce rolls up his sleeves, even though the wind is nippy today. His forearms flex when he lifts the wall and nails it in place. He feels eyes on him. 

—

Jayce takes 2 days to build the coop. Mostly because his first day consisted of Viktor pestering him and slowing him down. Day 2, Jayce gets up before Viktor and finishes it by Lunch. Viktor has just returned from town with his automatic door supplies when Jayce proudly stands and wipes the sweat off his brow. 

Viktor stares at it, and then Jayce. Jayce smiles, teeth biting his bottom lip, exposing his canines. He gestures to the coop, like, look! I did it!

Viktor shakes his head fondly. 

“Yes, very good.” 

Jayce cups a hand around his ear, smirking. “Huh? What was that?”

Viktor steps forward and shouts into Jayce's ear. 

“GOOD JOB, JAYCE!” Jayce yells in pain, covering his ear.

“Hey! Not nice!” He takes a step away from the madman, accusing finger pointed at him.

“You didn’t hear it the first time, so I repeated myself.” Viktor shrugs and walks inside with his things, smiling.

“You knew what I wanted.” Jayce mumbles, following a couple steps behind.

“Yep!” Viktor teases.

–

Jayce awakens from a nightmare. The same one as every night. It’s strange being haunted by someone who is still alive. 

Jayce takes a sip of his water, and begins to rub at his wrist again. 

He wasn’t a very good friend, or partner. Jayce swallows. Every time there was some sort of event or party, he would gladly accept invitations and not even think to ask Viktor. He snuck off with Mel some nights, and would come back into the lab the next morning to find his partner asleep at the table. 

He became a counselor, which tore him from the lab almost completely. He left his dying friend alone, and wasn’t there when he needed him most. He spent time dancing, and drinking, while Viktor slaved away to make something. To make a difference.

Jayce watches one star in particular. It swirls, shines. He names it,

“Viktor…” He whispers. “Go back to bed.” 

Jayce glances over his shoulder lazily.  Viktor comes to sit next to him, laying his head on Jayce’s shoulder. He sighs, sips some more water. 

“Bad dream?” Viktor wraps his arms around himself, bad leg kicked out in front of him. 

Jayce hums something noncommittal. Not quite a yes or a no. He leans his head on top of Viktor’s. 

Viktor had helped hundreds of people in the depths of Zaun. He healed their illnesses, performed miracles, provided safety. When Jayce shot him, did he kill all those people? Do they still have their humanity? Have their bodies recovered? How many empty husks are stuck in Piltover because Jayce wanted to put Magic in the hands of common folk. 

He finally did it, but not in the way he intended. He hurt people.

“Jayce.”

Jayce stares at the star. It’s speaking.

“Hmm?” 

“What are you thinking about?” It says.

Jayce’s eyes glaze, and the star becomes two. Then three. Now back to one. It comes to 2 points in his vision, eyes elongating its shimmer.

He’s thinking of Mel, his love for her. He thinks of soft brown skin, and flickering flames. He thinks of being stuck in that cavern, and the attack on the council. Dead-weight in his hands.

Visions of webbing, colors, lights, and emotionless faces. Jayce doesn’t react. 

“I feel like I ruined your life.” He still rests his head on top of Viktor’s. The older man flinches.

Jayce thinks. “The night of the explosion, in the council… You died.” He starts. Viktor doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe.

“You died, and I still carried you to the lab. I left Mel, and all the others behind, and took you.” Jayce’s voice shakes. “You were so light in my arms…” 

“And I… infected you. With the Hexcore. Even after I promised to destroy it.” Jayce lifts his head. He looks down at the grains in the wood. “Because I was greedy. I couldn’t bare the thought of living without you.

“And you haunted me. Everywhere I went. Even after I woke up, even though you aren’t a ghost. Even now.” Jayce brings a hand to his eyes, pinches his nose. Jayce thinks of that cavern where he was stuck for months. Flames flicker, water reflects, echoes sing. Voices in the wind, in the corner of his eye, in shadows. He saw Viktor. 

He looks at the star. Viktor looks back, lifting his head off his shoulder. 

“I can’t allow myself to love you, Viktor.” He says it so softly, the weight of the words settle like shifting rock, slowly and then all at once. The weight almost crushes Viktor.

“I have made so many mistakes with you, and hurt you in so many terrible ways.” Jayce worries his bottom lip, teeth sharp. “I don’t deserve you…” There's vulnerability there, something that makes Viktor flinch. He’s so full of himself, Viktor almost wants to yell.

Viktor leans in closer, not touching, just enough to feel the heat of Jayce’s skin, just enough to make him squirm. “You don’t get to decide my worth.” He’s mean, all narrow lines and sharp angles. 

“You don’t get to decide my needs.” Viktor mumbles, eyes dark. Jayce swallows, pulse quickening. Viktor’s hand reaches Jayce’s jaw, and in the silence of the night Jayce thinks the touch might just shatter him. Viktor seems to visibly soften, noticing the flare of the younger man's jaw. His thumb moves as if he can wipe away the tension. 

“Your mistakes were proof of action. You weren’t perfect Jayce.” His gaze softens, pupils dilating, “I wasn’t either.” Viktor drops his gaze, trails a finger over his own bad leg. “But it didn’t stop you.” 

Jayce watches his movements, tension unwinding with each admittance spoken. Viktor’s movements are smooth, and confident. A smile plays at the corners of his lips, barely noticeable. Viktor watches his face, watches the way his eyes dart to his lips. His eyes aren’t filled with tears, but something else. Something entirely too raw. 

“Why should it stop me?”

Thick hands trail over thighs, hips. Jayce watches Viktor shift, both hands now on his hips, eyes welling with tears. 

“This isn’t healthy.” Jayce mumbles, scrambling to hold any excuse he can, feels his grip slipping. He can feel himself falling, and Viktor is looking at him like he poked holes in the night sky. Like he stitched each and every star in the moonlight  A sense of wonder bordering on disbelief.

“We aren’t healthy people.” Viktor reminds him, and Jayce laughs. He should've known he’d be stubborn. They get quiet again, and the silence eats him alive. A moment passes.

Viktor kisses Jayce like he might melt. He molds against him, hands carding through outgrown hair. Jayce kisses back, and doesn’t allow Viktor to pull away when he tastes the salt from his tears. They stay like that for a while, slowly kissing. 

Jayce’s leg brace scratches the wood when he tries to push Viktor back, and the noise seems to break whatever quiet the room holds. Viktor’s breath comes heavy, and Jayce hums happily. 

They kiss until they’re faces hurt. Jayce touches every inch of Viktor he can reach, while the other tries to convey every unsaid word through his lips. 

Familiarity was something Jayce and Viktor gained a long time ago, yet the feeling of Viktor’s lips on his own sparks a fire inside him that teeters on something new.

The curves of Viktor’s stomach are soft, and Jayce’s teeth are sharp. Viktor is as quiet as possible, a slave to the natural world around them. He fails his quest of quietness as sharp noises escape him. His nails dig into Jayce.

Jayce has seen Viktor do just about everything a person can do. He has seen him die, and be born again. He has seen him brimming with sadness, and overflowing with anger. Jayce has seen Viktor act like a completely different person, and still recognized him by the shadow he casts on the earth. 

Yet,  Jayce has never seen this.

He has never seen Viktor twitch, and squirm. His jaw is slack, and his hair is roughly pulled as he tries to use it to ground himself. His eyes are fluttered closed, and his neck is exposed. Jayce memorised every curve, dip, valley. He tastes, and thinks of how thin the skin is here. Viktor allows him to come close, to poke and prod without a nervous glance. 

Jayce cries. How could he give himself so easily? How does he deserve this? 

There's a hand on Jayces shoulder. It becomes tighter as Jayce comes closer, barely in. Viktor’s a panting mess, and Jayce is seeing stars. “Baby…” He whispers.

“So pretty like this.” Viktor moans. Jayce leans down, not moving. He kisses the mole under Viktor’s eye, and feels him flutter around him. 

“Hah… Ngh…Wanted this for so long.” He moans, tilting his hips down to grind into him. Jayce curses. 

This wasn’t just him giving his body to Jayce. 

Jayce thinks of crumbling rock, and exploded apartments. He thinks of sacrifices. Tears prick the corners of his eyes. He moves faster, harder. 

This was a lamb on the altar. Viktor’s hand drops by his head, wrist up. Jayce lifts Viktor’s leg over his shoulder. This was the first harvest of the season. He’s close. This was a knife through the palm, blood in a bowl. This was biblical. 

This was holy. Something untouched by others. 

It was sacrificial. 

They can only say each other's names, as if it's the only word they knew. The only word they cared to learn. They make noise, and grip tight. It's animalistic, and primal. Jayce doesn’t need to think, and Viktor doesn’t let him. 

The squeeze of Viktor around Jayce is a vulnerability they haven’t seen in their many years of knowing each other. Jayce’s cut off moan is new to Viktor’s ears, and he watches as his eyes roll. His abs tighten.

This was more than a fight against entropy, or a need for release. 

This was love-making.

–

Jayce runs to get a rag, and Viktor watches him go with a giggle. 

When he returns, he’s gentle and slow. Viktor watches as his eyebrows knit together in concentration. He helps the man back into his trousers, kisses his cheek, his eyelid, then lips. 

They don’t speak, they don’t need to. They said everything they needed to. They go back to bed, this time with a new peace between them. 

Jayce has no dreams, does not toss or turn. 

Viktor’s breathing stays calm, his leg does not get restless, his head does not hurt. 

They sleep in, they don’t mind when the sun rays shine through the windows, and everything suddenly makes sense again. 

–

They train the chickens together, even though Jayce is scared of them. Viktor’s leg gets worse, and Jayce stays patient. His fingers no longer glow blue, and he does not dance. Jayce separates the black clothes from the white ones, and laughs when Viktor shrinks his favorite sweater. 

Fall becomes winter, but they stay the same. They still bicker, and fight. Jayce finally gets a couch, but he never uses it. Winter turns to spring. Spring turns to summer.

He makes rings. Meredith notices. They have a small wedding. Jayce wishes his mother could see, and Viktor feels guilt. They have it in the backyard, next to Viktor’s garden. Jayce throws a bouquet, and Libby catches it with a war cry. 

They go to Merediths funeral. Viktor cries, while Jayce tries to stay strong for him.

Libby gets a boyfriend, and Jayce hates him. Viktor insists he’s being overprotective, but Willy agrees. Libby and Viktor bond over the idiot men in their life.

She gets married 3 summers later. Jayce is the officiant, and has to stop at one point to hold back a sob. People laugh. Viktor has never been more in love. Years together, turn into decades.

Jayce’s hair starts to turn grey, and Viktor promises it suits him. Viktor’s other leg gets bad, and he can no longer walk. He uses a wheelchair. Jayce builds a ramp, and Viktor pretends like he isn’t terrified Jayce will leave. 

He doesn’t, obviously. 

They celebrate 25 years together, and Willy gives them so much whiskey it’s almost laughable. Libby visits town, they get to meet her daughter, Katelin. Jayce cries. The baby is obsessed with Viktor, who has never held an infant. He does well. 

The days are short, and the years are shorter. Everything gets quiet around the house, and Viktor quickly loses strength. Jayce doesn’t rush him.

He buries Viktor in the backyard, spends months carving his tombstone.

A large flower. He thinks of Caitlyn, and his promise to her. 

“He better be worth it.” She had said. “He is.” He had replied, all those years ago. 

Jayce is jealous of the earth's grip on him. He wishes he could be the one to hold him eternally.

He grows Chrysanthemums every year until his final breath, with which he says Viktor’s name.

Libby buries Jayce next to his partner. She does not cry, not until the dirt has covered the coffin completely. She reads Viktor’s journal, a loosely bound book. It’s hidden under the bed, covered in an old tattered shirt, and a strange rob. She cries, her heart aches. She reads about exploded apartments, and partnership. She reads about magic, and jealousy. She reads about weak bones, and deadeyes. She does not stop until her heart is shattered, and her curiosity is quenched. 

She learns about the war in Piltover. She laughs, because only Jayce and Viktor would secretly be war criminals. She brings flowers to their graves, she speaks to the brightest star in the night sky. Two look back. She believes. 

In the end, they never leave each other's side. Time passes, and the graves crumble. The house falls, and the water heater breaks. The chickens run free, and the table wobbles again.  

But somewhere, In a completely different universe,

They do it all again.