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Progress Day meant many different things to the citizens of Piltover. For some, it was a symbol of patriotism. For others, it was an opportunity to get drunk.
For Jayce, it was the second option. For Viktor, it was neither.
Viktor could appreciate the celebration of sciences past, present, and future, but the huge party full of alcohol, the social elite, and talk about politics was nothing but a bitter obligation. A duty of the partner of the so-called man of progress.
Bear in mind, that Viktor was not jealous of Jayce. At least not of the attention Jayce was getting or the fame, or the money, or his membership in the council. Yet, he could not help but stand in the corner of the room, which was slowly getting crowdier and crowdier, and watch the hextech wonder boy greeting every and each one of the guests.
He was everything Viktor was not. Or at least what Viktor thought he was not. Kind and warm, so much so that at times, the older of the inventors could swear to see him radiating a warm orange glow. Extroverted, chatty, and fun. Charismatic, idealistic, and altruistic. Tall, muscular, and tanned, with hazel eyes and styled dark hair.
The golden boy's partner had to shake his head and take a sip or two of the fine wine that was being served, to force himself to stop staring. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be Jayce, or if he wanted Jayce.
As time went by, the room overflowed with the nobility of the city of progress. Some of them even went up to Viktor to congratulate him for being part of such a success - an achievement, a victory even - and though they always made sure to suggest that his part in the success was insignificant subliminally, he made sure to politely thank them and direct them towards Jayce, who was currently entertaining a circle of five high-profile potential investors.
After another three or so glasses of sweetish wine, Viktor decided he had had enough of the bluff he was presenting everyone with. This was not him. Smiling and nodding to the investors, telling them about the half-done project as if its success was evident, even though the results were still as distant as a whispered secret carried by the wind across an endless desert. That was Jayce's domain.
He took his crutch which, until now, was rested against the wall, and inspected it. It was the only thing that reminded him of who he truly was. It was funny, that his deformity was the only thing which he didn't let himself be persuaded into changing - though if it was possible and Jayce told him to stop walking with a limp, he probably would have obeyed. Simply because it was him. Him, who prepared the outfit Viktor was currently wearing, from the tailored, high-collared, deep emerald green velvet vest, over the white shirt and slim-cut trousers in black with a satin stripe running down each side, to hextech crystal pin worn on the vest’s lapel, glowing faintly to symbolize his connection to progress and innovation. It was thought through in detail. Jayce even kept in mind to keep the pants simple, so Viktor put his metal gear over it. The only thing he forgot about, was to make it less... him.
Feeling the sudden urge to tear the clothes he was wearing apart, Viktor gripped the handle of his crutch tight, exiting the room as fast as possible without causing much of a fuss.
Little did he know, no one really noticed . Except for the man in the center of attention.
As Viktor got into the lab - the only place he knew would grant him a bit of comfort, where he could forget about all the falsity - he began taking the clothes off. It felt as if the fabric was burning his skin, slowly getting hotter and hotter, but his fingers were shaking, not necessarily from anger. A strange mix of emotions was making his entire body shiver - there was despair and a weird confusion between envy and fondness, which was mixing into one indescribable feeling. Anger only came after what felt like an eternity of struggling with the stupid emerald buttons of the vest.
Viktor cried out, poison dropping from each letter wrapped in a Slavic accent. In anger, he threw his cane across the room, but losing his balance momentarily without it quickly resulted in him falling to the floor.
The cup of his patience had overflowed, and unfortunately for him, Jayce entered the room just as the streams of his anger swept him off his feet.
"Viktor?" He hurried to the man, struggling to get up from the cold floor covered in scattered papers and spilled ink, just to be met with rejection: "I can handle it myself."
The venom in the fragile man's voice caught Jayce off guard. He had never seen him like that and perhaps he had idealized him a bit too much, to the point he did not believe he would ever be capable of spitting poison with just words. After all, he had never been anything but kind to him, saving his life, supporting his dreams, and never complaining about his pains or not getting enough recognition for his work.
"Let me help you, Viktor." Yet, through the rejection radiating from the thin man's body, he held him, helped him, and once he was again standing on his own feet, he reluctantly removed his hands from his waist.
"There are thousands, millions of people waiting for your help," the older one of the two scientists spoke, leaning against one of the empty workbenches. "Yet, you're wasting your time trying to impress some... nobility." His weak knees almost failed him twice if it wasn't for him holding onto the stable edge of the lab table, and although Viktor's words angered him, and hurt him, he was struggling with the thought of coming to hold him for support.
"They're investors," Jayce snapped. "Without their money, we can't help anyone, not you, not anyone from Piltover, not anyone from the undercity."
While the argument was true , Viktor could not help but argue back, call out the hypocrisy of someone who grew up in Piltover, someone who did not know the true value of money: "Money," he grinned as his words left his lips. "We need money, yet you spend it on luxury, tailored suits. Just so you could look this fine."
The last part he did not mean to say out loud, yet it was true. Jayce did look fine. A double-breasted navy blue military-style tailcoat with gold accents, a white silk shirt with a high collar, black trousers with a fine satin finish, and a short, asymmetrical cape draped over one shoulder. And of course, a matching pin to Viktor’s: a hextech crystal pin worn on his lapel, glowing faintly with a synchronized hue.
"I thought you liked them." The hurt in Jayce's voice was obvious and it made Viktor doubt his actions and even consider swallowing his pride and admitting it was just his own doubts talking, but he wasn't strong enough to do so and he did, in fact like the clothes - after all, it was a gift he had put a lot of thought into, even matching their little brooches. "We have to look representative if we want to get sponsors." At that, however, Viktor only scoffed.
"We have to, right," he spoke, his accent only highlighting the spite in each vowel. "Or did councilor Medarda tell you, to look nice?"
"I don't know what you're trying to say," Jayce hissed back . "Leave Mel out of this , she's just trying to help."
"I'm trying to say you do whatever you're told ," Viktor raised his voice, the words breaking in his mouth, all the pent-up frustration making it hard to think, let alone speak clearly. "You're nothing but a damn... puppet!"
"I'm not a puppet, Viktor!" Jayce clenched his fists, stepping a little closer to the other man standing in front of him. He wasn't necessarily trying to look intimidating, quite the opposite - he had been fighting the urge to run to Viktor, hugging him, calming him down, telling him to rest, so they could resolve this little misunderstanding later. But he was a man with a tremendous ego, which sent signal through his body, to answer the fire with fire.
"When was the last time you did something, just because you wanted to, then?" Viktor, mistaking the golden boy's body language for an intimidation attempt, only continued with the only way he had a chance of winning through - words. Spiteful, hateful, words, lies, mostly. "Not because Medarda told you so? Or Heimerdinger, Caitlyn, your mother? Me?"
"Viktor, take this back." The words were not a plea. They were a command a frustrated, tired command.
"Once you answer my question, I'll think about it," gripping the edges of the workbench, Viktor gazed at his partner, as he got closer to him. He was fully expecting to get punched, end up on the ground, or at least have Jayce grab his vest in a threatening fist, but none of that happened.
"To do something I want. Is that all you want me to do to prove my point?" Jayce stopped only a few inches in front of him. Their height difference was already noticeable, but with the smaller man crouching, holding onto the table for support, to Jayce, it felt like he could crush him just by hugging him. It served as a reminder to approach his plans with a touch more gentleness than he had initially intended.
"Yes," Viktor nodded in agreement , giving Jayce the green light to proceed with his plan.
There was not much Jayce wanted. He had almost everything he had ever wished for - his mother, friends, respect from the entirety of Piltover, and the resources to help people. He even had Viktor by his side. But even so, the only thing that came to mind when thinking about something he wanted, was, again, Viktor. More of Viktor. Viktor's first morning glances to be pictures of Jayce gently holding him, knowing the exact way he drank his coffee and being able to prepare it for him together with a breakfast that would make him full up until five in the evening, when he usually remembered he had nothing to eat, that was what Jayce craved. To be able to kiss his nape whenever he would lean over a book, learn the funny-sounding language he sometimes spoke when he needed to think out loud about something important, and, no matter how cheesy it sounded, to have matching brooches on every single shirt they would wear.
In a stressful situation such as an argument with the man in front of him, Jayce could only think of one way of proving himself. To kiss Viktor.
So, in the moment, neither spoke, impulsively, Jayce closed the space between them. His hands rested on the edge of the workbench, caging Viktor in as their eyes met, anger softening into something raw and unguarded.
Viktor’s lips parted to protest, but Jayce leaned in, his kiss firm yet hesitant, as if testing the fragile line they were crossing. Viktor froze for a heartbeat, then tilted his head, his hands gripping Jayce's shoulders instead of the table, as somehow he knew it would provide much better support.
The moment was fleeting, charged with unresolved emotions, before reality pressed back in. Jayce pulled away slightly, their foreheads nearly touching, breaths mingling as the weight of what just happened settled between them.
Viktor’s grip on the fabric of Jayce's vest tightened, his knuckles whitening as his eyes searched for the other man's face, letting him read the unspoken apology in his furrowed brow. The kiss had been unexpected, and bold, but it was honest, stripping away the walls they had both built around themselves.
Swallowing hard, Viktor leaned forward, his hesitation melting into determination. He tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips against Jayce’s in a kiss that was softer, slower , yet no less charged with emotion. It was deliberate, his way of saying what words fail to express.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his accent thick with the weight of regret.
Jayce exhales sharply, his shoulders sagging as if a burden has just been lifted . For a moment, the lab felt still , even the noises coming from the loud celebration one floor lower seemed to quiet down, so the only thing that could be heard was their heartbeats and breaths.
"Is there, perhaps, anything else you want?" The words were quiet, nothing more than a whisper, yet they carried the weight of the entire night. Because of course - there was something else Jayce wanted.
He looked around the room, yet his genius young mind failed him this time, as he did not find anything more comfortable than the table they were already leaning against - and somehow, with apparently almost all of his blood flowing to his lower regions, the thought of taking this to his room did not cross his mind.
"This will do," Viktor agreed, almost as if he was reading the other man's mind.
Without objecting, Jayce nodded, moving his fingers to the buttons of the emerald green velvet vest on the slimmer man's body. His calloused hands were struggling with the small knobs and if he had not paid the amount he did for them, he would probably tear it apart. The high price, however, did not prevent him from throwing the vest on the ground, so he could start opening the layer underneath faster.
Viktor, letting his partner struggle, slid his hands under his shirt. He could feel his muscles move and they felt hot to the touch, hard, firm, yet welcoming to his hand. But it only lasted a second, as once he felt saturated enough with his warmth, he slid his palms from his back to the front, letting his fingers slide over his hard pectoral muscles, over his abdominal muscle, lower, to his belt.
"Desperate?" Jayce teased, hoping Viktor would not come up with a quick comeback commenting about how he only now finally let his shirt fly open. "Not desperate, just... Eager."
The buckle of the stronger man's belt cooperated with Viktor perfectly, yet he ended up not being able to open his pants anyway, as he snatched both of his wrists. Struggling was useless , Viktor understood as much, so he let Jayce do whatever he wanted, obediently leaving his hands to himself. After all, the attention he was now getting was not too bad.
It was lovable, actually. Jayce started with soft , butterfly kisses down his neck, slowly sliding lower , to his chest , his stomach, running his fingers through his happy trail , just because he could.
Kneeling in front of Viktor, yet somehow feeling in full control, he undid his belt and slid his pants down, letting him step out of them to toss them somewhere deep in the room, where his green vest laid as well. Only once the only thing still covering his partner's thin frame, was his underwear, did he take a moment to admire him in his full beauty. He gently grabbed his leg and let his foot fall onto his thigh and slowly started kissing his thigh, knee, and then his calf. At this point, it was a form of worship, which Jayce altruistically gave and Viktor shyly accepted.
"I want you," Jayce mumbled against the Zaunian's skin.
"Take me, then." With a simple four words and an encouraging smile, Viktor gave his permission, and it filled the Piltovian with a joy comparable to what he felt when they finally stabilized the arcane.
With no further hesitance, he made his partner turn around, and press his chest against the cold polished wood of the table. It was not ideal, but it had a deep symbolism - to fuck at the same table where they made their biggest progress - or at least he calmed himself with these thoughts.
With no other available lube in sight, he had no other option but to use his own saliva to wet his fingers - again, not ideal, but it added to the realness of the moment.
He slid his fingers down Viktor's protruding spine, lifting the band of his black underwear, which was not too fancy, but practical. Pushing his fingers gently against his entrance, Jayce pressed his chest against the other inventor's back, providing him with some sense of security and warmth. He had no idea how it must felt for Viktor, to give his body to another man. Vulnerable, probably painful he thought.
Though it was painful, Viktor knew he could handle it. He went through worse. The lanes of Zaun were an ugly, dangerous place. And this pain, he was feeling now, was mixing perfectly with pleasure. He limited himself to quiet whimpers only, not wanting to worry Jayce.
Yet, Jayce was cautious , careful, excessively so. He was considerate with his movements first.
"Jayce... I'm not made of porcelain, you know?" Viktor encouraged him, squirming in embarrassment.
"Uh, alright, right..." he murmured after his breath. He rested his palm on Viktor's waist - it looked huge compared to his frame, his tanned skin creating a nice contrast against his partner's pale back. He almost had to stop himself from drooling, the image in front of him making his mouth water.
The Zaunian's breath hitched, as Jayce followed his request. It was a strange request at first, his fingers moving inside of him, curling and scissoring. It created a filthy, wet sound that filled the room. Something about it was making Viktor ashamed somehow , even more than getting topped by the younger scientist whom he took under his wings.
“How does it feel?” the Piltovian asked, watching the man underneath him squirm and gasping for air. It was a terrible question to ask. It was obvious , what the other man was feeling. His knees were shaking from the addictive feeling of fullness, precum already leaking from his tip, wetting his thighs and Jayce could even see his nape turning a soft powder-pink shade, sense him getting looser, more relaxed, and feel his hips moving leaning against Jayce's fingers.
"Don't ask me such-" There was a pause caused by Viktor swallowing a particularly loud moan. "Such embarrassing questions." Yet it felt like enough of an answer.
"Sorry," Jayce leaned closer to the other inventor's ear, trying to stop his own voice from sounding shaky. "I can't help myself." Trying to seem calm and collected, he let his fingers slide out of Viktor's entrance, wiping the excess wetness into his skin, but the sound his partner made made it very hard for him to not immediately pound him against the table . Especially after their fight and his body on display, vulnerable, fragile, delicious .
"I can't wait anymore, I'm sorry." Jayce opened his pants , luckily , this time it was without any struggle. He hissed through his teeth, as he pushed the band of his underwear lower, freeing his length - it was already swollen , the tip an angry shade of red-pink color, leaking pre cum. He was big, and until now, he never minded the facts, but now, it made him a little tense - would it hurt Viktor? Would it be too much?
"Jayce!" the tone of Vik's voice was urgent, stitched with eagerness and need. " Perhaps, you could hurry, don't you think?"
"Shit..." it made the younger man snap out of the downward spiral of his thought. Viktor could handle it, he was sure. With this thought, he spread some more of his slick saliva over his dick, before positioning himself along his partner's entrance. Before pushing himself inside, he intertwined their fingers in a little gesture of reassurance. Then, he pressed himself inside.
It was a lot, even for someone who was used to pain. Jayce's tip was pressing against Viktor's walls, stretching them open, filling the thin man to his absolute limit. When he was finally all the way inside him, he couldn't help but rest himself completely against the wood of the table, which was now warm from the heat of his own skin. He gasped for air, closing his eyes, shaking from the strange throbbing pain mixing with an absolute transcendence of a feeling.
He had men before, but it never felt this good. Perhaps none of them were as big as Jayce was , or maybe the nights he spent looking for distraction in a brothel lacked the passion that was circulating through his veins now. Either way, Jayce felt something similar. He had women before, but the bliss making his head spin could have not been caused by Viktor simply being a man, no. It was their souls interwining making them ride the cloud of bliss. It was their souls intertwined like the entanglement of quantum particles, an inseparable bond forming as if governed by the immutable laws of the universe.
"Is it okay?" Jayce whispered, trying to hide the fact he had no idea how long Viktor needed to get used to his size.
"Yes," he choked out, squeezing Jayce's hand in his own . "It's... lovely."
The soft connotation of his voice made Jayce throb, the entire body. He rolled his hips. He made sure to go slow but even so, it made his partner arch his back and moan something out, something in a foreign language, yet he could tell it was probably a curse, coated in a thick layer of pleasure. It encouraged him to continue. He held onto Viktor's waist, second hand's fingers still intertwined with his, and let his hips move in a gentle rhythm.
At that point, Viktor's legs failed him, so he gladly accepted Jayce's cape, pushing it against his chest to make the table he was leaning against a little softer, as well as burying his face into it, muffling the sounds coming from his mouth and inhaling Jayce's scent - a cologne with hints of oakmoss, amber, and cinnamon.
Jayce, on the other hand, was vocal, not embarrassed about his hitching breath, low hisses and moans forming in his throat. He enjoyed the sound of their skin meeting in the soft thrusts and the small yelps his partner made every time he buried himself deep inside him.
Mhhf! A particularly loud moan, though partially muted by the cape Viktor held over his mouth, caught Jayce off guard. The man flinched, panic flashing in his eyes as if fearing he might have somehow hurt the other man, but by Viktor's ass pressing against his groins, pushing and fidgeting, he assumed it was the other way around.
He pulled out a good portion of his length before pushing himself in again, watching it disappear in the Zaunian's thin frame. The thin man couldn't help but dig the remains of his short nails into the varnished wood and cry out - loudly, but thankfully not loudly enough to penetrate the rich sound of music in the ballroom on the lower floor. It was a wordless plea for Jayce to continue, and he gladly obliged, continuing what he assumed was pressing against the right spot.
Supporting both himself and his partner, he continued, moving his hips at a steady pace, pushing his hip upwards and he buried himself as deep as physically possible because that move especially seemed to make Viktor yelp out a sweet, yet incredibly filthy sounds.
Up until now, Viktor hadn’t realized the state he was in. He suddenly realized the warm droplets running down his temples, framing his chin. As he lifted his hands to wipe the sweat off of his jawline, a strong palm, skin hot to touch, grabbed his wrists and pinned them against the wood - both of his lean wrists, without much struggle. It took him by surprise, but he did not mind, nor did he have much time to react to it - it was quickly overshadowed by a new sensation, a second palm, perhaps even hotter, calloused yet tender, wrapped around his manhood.
It was different than when he touched himself and it wasn't just because now the feeling of slight pressure against his length was mixing with the repeating stimuli against his prostate. Jayce's hands hugged him all around, and the sensation was so much different from his own hands, which were not necessarily silky, but still much softer. Yet, the hardened, calloused skin provided somehow great sensation - almost like scratches they left all the nerve endings tingling, perhaps a little too much.
Viktor tried struggling. Though he knew it was pointless, his body acted on instinct and he tried snatching his hands away from Jayce's grip. When he failed terribly, the only thing left to do was for him to slightly turn his head, his eyes glistening even in the dimness of the lab. The one simple look carried an entire sentence within - don't stop, I need to cum, I need to.
Jayce did not really know where the roughness appeared in him. He never considered himself to be a ruthless lover, especially with someone so tender as his partner, yet something in Viktor's face made him snap, start pounding into him harshly, and enjoy the sudden cry that filled the room.
What the two shared could no longer be described as making love , this was fucking - rough, instinctive , desperate for the release of it. Nothing romantic about it. The budget for romance was long overrun .
Both of them depending on the strength of the workbench they were fucking on were enjoying the rawness of it all. Wet sounds, their skin reddening with every deep, rough thrust. Moans, cries, whimpers, and the creaking of wood. Pleasure, pain, the muscles in their stomachs tightening.
To his own dissatisfaction, Viktor was the one to cum first. No one could blame him, though. It was all so much for his weakening body, if anything, it was surprising he lasted this long - Jayce's tip pushing against his prostate at a rough pace, his hand stroking his length and his heavy chest pressed against Viktor's back, saturating him with warmth. It was overwhelming, much like the orgasm that made the Zaunian's body shake. It was powerful, like a tidal wave, a brief, perfect moment between falling asleep and waking up—the feeling of being both invincible and utterly relieved.
Viktor came with his partner's name on the lips, staining his hand still wrapped around his length with his cum. It only made the man who was chasing the same experience closer.
"Viktor..." It was a subtle growl, considering how loud had they previously gotten in the process, yet, it was full of impatience. The frustration of his orgasm approaching was also noticeable in his movements getting inconsistent, no longer focusing on hitting the right spots, but rather trying to bury as much of Jayce's length as possible.
When the orgasm finally came, it felt like deliverance. Heart pounding, penis throbbing, and then at the moment of release, a rush of ecstasy, watching the whitish sticky substance covering Viktor's back and spine with slightly visible vertebrae.
It took a few seconds for them to regain their senses.
At first, their focus was solely on their breathing—shallow, shaky, and perfectly in sync. But eventually, reality crept back in, forcing them to confront what had happened, mostly because Viktor's feet slowly losing the adrenalin rush the rather rough sex had provided him with, began failing him.
In the way most natural to Jayce, he scooped the man in front of him into his arm, and though normally Viktor would protest, in this specific scenario, he held onto the stronger man, searching for more of his hotness.
"Are you okay?" the question was genuine, though Jayce already knew the answer - Viktor was a prideful man.
"Of course." The thin man's body hit the soft mattress full of the familiar oakmossy smell. "I am a grown man, older than you, in fact. You did not think I couldn't handle a little bit of passion, did you?" The words were glazed with teasing, each letter pronounced carefully.
"Never doubted it."
Viktor's hands wrapped around Jayce, pulling him onto the mattress next to him. Their position was arranged - Viktor hugging Jayce tightly around his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss into his hair while Jayce pressed his cheek against Viktor's chest, listening to his slowly calming heartbeat and letting his arms rest around his waist.
The echoes of their fight felt distant now, their venomous words and aching hearts forgotten in the warmth of shared forgiveness.
“We’re a mess,” Viktor murmured, voice soft but steady.
“We always were.”
In the quiet that followed, the world outside could wait - the investors, councilor Medarda, hextech - just for a while longer.