Chapter Text
Viktor is having a good night . It's actually been a while since he's had one this good.
He's celebrating.
Ten years ago, he graduated with a first class degree in mechanical engineering with a minor in biology. Nine years ago, he spent six months in a medically induced coma after a sharp downturn in his health. Eight and seven and six years ago, his life had been spent simply trying to get better , not lending him the time or energy required to continue with education in the way he'd always wanted. And then past that he'd need to resettle. Get a job. Move into an apartment of just his own. Take back control. Education had been left on the back burner.
But it's a Friday night in January ten years on, and with the winter’s ebb he's able to finally move into that part of his life. On Monday, he starts his Masters.
He could have applied straight to a PhD, but with so long out of the academic life, he's not confident he'd be able to work it out himself. And so; Masters. A year of relearning. Getting back into it. Getting back what he's been denied.
The man he's been explaining this to at the bar has gone glassy eyed, and even through the haze of alcohol in his own head, Viktor can tell he's lost interest entirely. He congratulates Viktor half-heartedly on his journey and gives a poor excuse to leave his seat and head out into the fenced courtyard of the club. Perhaps his life's story is not the conversation starter he thought it was. Eh. He does not entirely care.
Viktor turns in his seat, scans the crowd for the friend he'd come here with, and spots them making out with someone in the corner of the dance floor, hot and heavy and absolutely not something he wants to break up. When he turns back to the bar, a stranger has taken the stool in front of him. The one that had been previously occupied by the man Viktor can now see leaning against the courtyard doorway, in a far more animated conversation with someone else.
“Sorry,” the stranger on the stool says, “is this seat taken?”
Viktor shakes his head and gives a noncommittal sort of wave. “Not any more.’ He says. “I believe I, eh, scared him off.”
“Scared him off?” This new man says, tone doubtful. He tilts his body away from the bar and Viktor nearly misses what he says next, distracted by the guy's sheer beauty as he fully faces him. His hair is wavy and intentionally mussed, beard neatly trimmed over the smooth, brown skin of his face. The furrow in his brow and the crows feet at the corners of his eyes are lighter in the creases, betraying a life spent at least partially in the sun. His eyes are a soft brown under the low lighting. His shoulders are broad and the wedge of chest Viktor can see past his partially unbuttoned shirt is plush and furred. “You don't seem that scary to me.”
“I gave him a little too much information, I believe.” The second half of the sentence catches up to him. “I do not imagine someone with your… stature is easily frightened.”
The guy laughs a little, a rumble barely audible above the bar's music. “You’d be surprised.” He says, a twinge of embarrassment in his tone. A member of bar staff deposits a glass in front of him and he hands them a note with a thanks. And then he's sitting quietly, facing Viktor, drumming his fingers over the body of the glass with what is suddenly recognisable as nervous energy.
Intrigue spurs Viktor's tongue. “You are frightened of a lot, then?”
“Not a lot .” The man huffs. “Just, ah, talking to hot guys. Apparently.”
Viktor blinks. “I see. Well, I am afraid I do not have the best advice there. Other than, it seems, do not engage in, eh, extended storytelling.”
The man snorts a little. “Right. Anything else not to do?”
Viktor considers everything he'd said during his last conversation. “Do not discuss your career, or your medical history, or your living situation.”
“Noted.”
“Or Noxian politics, if he attempts to discuss that with you.” He wrinkles his nose up a little. “Because you will drink more than you intended in order to hold your tongue or hide your laughter.”
He watches the other man's throat work as he picks up his glass and throws the drink back.
“So I don't, uh, have a drink to hide behind.” He explains, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “And for more liquid courage.”
Viktor snorts a laugh. “Well, then who is this hot guy you were intending on talking to? You should go to him before somebody else does.”
The guy looks at him with a blank expression. Viktor sees his thumb roll a tight circle over his empty glass. His eyes dart down to Viktor's lips. Oh.
“...You were nervous to talk to me? I thought you said I did not seem scary.”
“I'm really bad at this.” The man says, in lieu of an answer.
“And what is this ?”
“Talking to people. Or, uh, new people… new, hot people.”
“You could start with telling me your name.” Viktor suggests.
“Right.” The guy laughs, shoulders relaxing a little, like he'd been tensing subconsciously, waiting for Viktor to turn him down. Which is, frankly, a laughably absurd thing to think Viktor would ever do. This guy is quite literally one of the most stunning people Viktor has ever seen . Every other man Viktor has even smiled at tonight pales in comparison. “I'm Jayce.”
Jayce holds out a hand. Wow. He wasn't lying. He is bad at this.
“Viktor.” Viktor offers, returning the handshake. Jayce's hand is large and his grip firm, the both of them slightly tacky with sweat in the warmth of the bar.
“So, Viktor, what do you do?”
Viktor clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. I believe I said not to discuss careers.”
“Right, right. Okay. Uh. Not giving me a lot to work with, without asking you about your life. Do you… read a lot?”
“I do.” Viktor smiles over the rim of his glass.
“What kind of things do you read?”
“Science fiction.” Viktor shrugs. “Horror.”
Jayce brightens visibly. “Oh! What kind of science fiction?”
“I enjoy, ah, robotics.”
And somehow, the conversation just… flows from there.
It's surprisingly easy. Jayce is able to match his wavelength nigh immediately. They talk and laugh and flirt back and forth, and Jayce insists on buying the next round, and Viktor scowls at him for it, which he laughs at, and his laugh is goofy and wheezing and has him hiding his mouth behind his palm.
Two drinks later, as the conversation between them dies down just a little, Viktor slides his thumb along the inside of Jayce's forearm and watches the way his eyes track the movement.
“You know,” he hums, “I live nearby.”
“Hm? O-oh yeah?”
It's cute, how he flusters. It has confidence swelling in Viktor's chest despite how long it's been since he's done this.
“It would be much more quiet than here.” He says.
Jayce hums and meets his eye, a nervous smile over his lips. “What are we waiting for, then?”
They make it to Viktor's apartment in record time, Viktor practically dragging Jayce down the hall as soon as the door in from the street is unlocked.
Once they're in, there's an awkward moment of staring between them, which Jayce breaks with a breathy request.
“Can I kiss you?”
A laugh bubbles out of Viktor's throat. He leans into his cane and looks up at Jayce through slightly blurry eyes.
“I would be offended if you did not, at this point.”
“Right.” Jayce nods, eyes on l Viktor's mouth as he speaks.
“Shoes off, first.” Viktor instructs, lowering himself onto the stool by the door and unlacing his own to shove off his feet with a shoehorn. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jayce hop on one leg as he tugs his own off, and feels himself smile.
He stands, turns to face Jayce, and is nearly bowled over as the man, now wearing only a pair of bright, mismatched socks over his feet, trips over himself and towards Viktor. He takes a step back and finds himself flat against the wall, Jayce's hands steadying himself either side of Viktor's shoulders.
“Uh. Hi.” Jayce says. His breath smells like hops and fans out over Viktor's face in a way that really should be a little gross but somehow isn't. His eyes sparkle in the darkness.
Viktor laughs. “You are very smooth, aren't you?”
“Cut me some slack.” Jayce says. He moves closer, dropping one hand from shoulder height to press into the wall beside Viktor's hip. “It's hard to be smooth with someone like you in front of me.”
Viktor’s nose wrinkles at the phrasing. “Someone like me ?”
Jayce blinks. “You're - someone as hot as you.”
Viktor hums. “If I am really that attractive, why have you still not kissed me, hm?”
Instead of any verbal response, Jayce makes a noise in the back of his throat and presses forwards, slotting his lips clumsily against Viktor's and just about catching the back of his head with his hand before it hits the wall.
The kiss is messy and uncoordinated from the alcohol, but with Jayce's enthusiasm and the way his head moves pliantly when Viktor nudges one way and another, they soon find their rhythm. Jayce moans far more openly than Viktor would have expected when Viktor presses his tongue against his bottom lip, and opens up to him when he snakes it into his mouth.
“Bedroom.” Viktor tells him, muffled where their mouths move against each other. “Now.”
Jayce moans again and nods, pulling away just enough to tug Viktor by the waist out of the foyer and spin him, allowing him to lead the way through the apartment with Jayce pressed against his back, pressing kisses to every available inch of skin at his neck like now he's been given permission he can't bring himself to stop. They make it just about into the bedroom before Viktor is twisting in his grip and smashing their lips together again, pulling Jayce backwards towards the bed. He registers a twinge in his leg, but with his senses dulled by inebriation he struggles to care more than to make sure that when they fall onto the mattress, he shifts them sideways, Jayce landing only half atop him and catching himself with one arm so that they don't chip teeth against each other.
“Take your shirt off.” Viktor demands. He's half expecting Jayce to refuse, to try to establish some kind of dominance in response, the size and physique that he is, but Jayce moves willingly and tugs the thing over his head with only a little awkwardness. In the light streaming through Viktor's bedroom window, orange tinted from the street lamps outside, Jayce is one of the most breathtaking sights he's ever seen. He doesn't get all that much time to look though, because as soon as he's free of the shirt Jayce surges back down into a kiss, shuffling and manoeuvering until he's straddling Viktor’s good leg and Viktor's head is pressed into the pillows.
“C’n I take yours off, too?” Jayce asks, and Viktor nods against him.
“There is a brace beneath, also. Clasps on the right hand side.”
“Is it okay to take it off? Don't wanna hurt you.” The words are said with concern, but Jayce's mouth continues to move over Viktor's, entirely insatiable. His fingers are already making quick work of Viktor's button up.
“Yes. As long as you don't intend for us to fuck standing.”
Jayce snorts ungraciously. He slides the shirt from Viktor's shoulders and finagles it out from beneath him, throwing it to the floor. “Want you like this. Standing some other time.”
The implication of some other time disappears somewhere into the back of Viktor's mind, for him to consider when he isn't being actively undressed, and he reaches for Jayce's belt as Jayce fumbles with the unfamiliar mechanism of his back brace.
“Who designed this?” He mutters, finally breaking off their kiss to squint down at the brace.
“Do not blame your inability to remove it on design.” Viktor chides playfully, slipping his hand beneath Jayce's and pressing the release of the first buckle.
“I wasn't! It could just be way more efficient. The buckles could be -”
Viktor interrupts him with a kiss and pops the first few buttons of his fly with a sharp tug. “Did you come home with me to critique my medical aids or to fuck, hm?”
Jayce moans into his mouth. The last buckle on Viktor's brace pops free. “Is both an option?”
“Take your trousers off.” Viktor orders, wriggling beneath Jayce to free himself fully of the back brace and throwing it to the side when he does so.
Jayce obliges with a grin that glints orange in the light, shedding both trousers and underwear in one go and looking at Viktor expectantly until Viktor does the same. He doesn't make any move to help Viktor with his leg brace, looking a little sheepishly towards the back brace on the edge of the bed before taking the leg piece from Viktor and placing them gingerly to the ground together.
Viktor has not been naked with another person in quite a while. He'd forgotten the spike in nerves, the strange openness of full nudity that sits in the back of his mind even as the kiss resumes. Every brush of skin on skin feels new and electric. He feels the scratch of Jayce's pubic hair over his thigh and shivers a little, leg twitching up against it.
Jayce makes no urgent moves towards touching him below the waist, content apparently with continuing their kiss now naked, pressing the expanse of his pleasantly warm, soft body against Viktor beneath him. He's still holding himself up with one hand as the other explores Viktor's torso, lingering at the dip of his waist before stroking over the soft jut of his stomach and upwards. With his mouth still on Viktor's, kissing more and more needily, he clumsily traces his fingers over the raised portions of Viktor's double incision scars at his sternum, and then skims them upwards and out, to where Viktor's nipple should be.
There's a break in the rhythm of the kiss. Jayce slides his palm across the whole of Viktor's chest. Viktor has to hold back laughter as he pulls away to look down.
“Your nipples.” Is all he says.
Viktor breaks. He snort-laughs into his palm so hard he has to sit up and lean against Jayce's chest (and wow, what a chest ) to catch his breath properly.
“You don't have any.” Jayce says, once the laughter dies down.
“I do not.” Viktor agrees.
“Did you… always not have any?”
“Did I always not have nipples? ”
“That was a stupid question.”
“Only a little .” Viktor teases. He shuffles back to lean against the headboard and tugs Jayce to straddle him properly, legs either side of Viktor's, thick thighs boxing him in. “I chose to remove them.” He shrugs. “They were obsolete. To transition is to evolve, no point keeping parts with no purpose.”
“They do have purpose.” Jayce protests. “To, uh, some people.”
“Mm. That is what I mean.” Viktor lifts his hands and allows himself to run them over Jayce's chest. “For some people, they have purpose. For myself , they were no longer useful.” Experimentally, he cups Jayce's pecs in both hands and rolls his nipples between forefinger and thumb. The whimper Jayce releases when he does is more intoxicating than any drink he's consumed tonight.
“How is your sensation?” He asks, genuinely curious. He traces the thicker rings of scar tissue around Jayce's areola, more notable on his right hand side. The way Jayce shivers with the movement makes his response somewhat unexpected.
“Don't really have much.” Jayce is staring down at his own chest. “A little if you, uh, push down. Or pinch. It's - I like the, uh, thought more than the feeling.”
Viktor makes a curious noise and pinches Jayce's nipple again, harder than before.
Jayce hisses. “ Ah . Yeah. Felt that.”
“Was it bad?”
“No.”
The next noise in Viktor's throat comes out pleased, and he tugs Jayce down to lying again with a hand at his nape while the other continues to grope at his chest, grabbing at the swell of muscle there.
Jayce moans into his mouth when Viktor once again pinches at his nipple and Viktor can't help but to grin.
And then Jayce is moving, shifting to straddle just one of Viktor's legs again, and it's Viktor's turn to moan when he feels soft and warm and wet against his thigh.
“Fuck.” Jayce groans into his mouth. “Is - is this okay?”
Viktor reaches down and tugs the leg between his own upwards in response, letting out another moan when it presses against his cock.
“Oh, shit .” Jayce curses. He pulls his mouth from Viktor’s and moves it to his neck, curling his body over him to rut in earnest against his skin.
Viktor hums and tilts his head to give Jayce better access.
“Talkative, aren't you?”
“I - I can stop. If it's too much.”
“Don't you dare. ” Viktor punctuates his sentence with a rough roll of his hips against Jayce. He feels the trail of slick he leaves over Jayce's skin, hears the whine it elicits into his neck.
“Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Can I - ah - I wanna go down on you.”
“ Please .”
Jayce kisses back up to Viktor's lips, presses him into the pillows with the force of his last one, and then breaks away to look down at him. His hair is more than tousled at this point, falling in front of his face as he stares down with a look that's all need . His mouth hangs open, breathing shakily into the air between them, and his eyes are dark and wide and trailing all over Viktor's face like he's trying to memorise his expression.
“What can I do? What don't you like?”
Viktor trails his hand from the back of Jayce's head and cautiously cups his cheek, strokes a thumb at the border between beard and bare skin. Jayce leans into it. Viktor feels butterflies in his stomach entirely unsuitable for a hookup.
“No penetration.” He tells him. “Not with your fingers, at least. Your tongue you may put, ah, anywhere you like.”
Jayce groans, eyes fluttering at just the suggestion. He turns and presses a firm kiss to the centre of Viktor's palm, before he's moving downwards. Viktor has to bite back a whine at the loss of Jayce's thigh against his cock, but he's quickly distracted as the man presses kisses all down his torso. His mouth moves quickly and desperately, barely halting his journey to Viktor's cock to lave attention over his ribs and his hips and his stomach.
Viktor props himself onto his elbows to watch, drinking in the vision of the muscles of Jayce's back shifting as he crawls down the bed.
“You know, I realise I have not yet expressed just how attractive I find you .”
Jayce hums against the junction of his hip, where he's stopped to simply breathe, it seems, nose pressed against Viktor's skin.
“You are incredibly hot.”
Jayce breaks away to beam up at him, teeth once again shining in the light. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Viktor pushes himself up onto one hand and reaches down to once again stroke over Jayce's cheek. “I cannot wait to make a mess of this beard.”
Jayce whines. He leans into the hand and then slips from Viktor's grasp to place a kiss atop the wiry hair just above his cock.
“Spread your legs.” He says.
“Not even a please?”
Jayce whines again . “ Please spread your legs.”
And so Viktor does. Jayce shifts to let him part them either side of his torso, and lifts Viktor's good thigh onto his shoulder to angle himself a little to one side so that Viktor's other leg can lie straight.
Jayce dives in to lick a stripe from his entrance to cock and Viktor falls back into the mattress with a gasp.
“Sorry, too fast?”
“Jayce, if you don't keep going -” Viktor groans.
He feels Jayce laugh against his cock and his tongue repeats the motion. Viktor can feel how it drags his wetness up and over his cock, lubricating him alongside Jayce's saliva. He feels how Jayce circles his tongue around his shaft and how he swallows when he moves back for a second.
“ Fuck , you're hard.” Jayce groans. “Can feel you twitching on my tongue.”
Viktor moans, far more high pitched than he has any control over, and Jayce gleefully returns to his task. He's good . Attentive and exploratory and good at interpreting Viktor's noises and movements and the twitching of his cock. He sucks him into his mouth and Viktor arches into it, which seems to spur him on and he repeats the action. The room is filled with the sounds of Viktor's barely suppressed moans and the honest to god slurp of Jayce on his cock. It's barely five minutes before Viktor feels his orgasm crest in his stomach.
“ Oh .” Viktor groans. “I'm - fuck , I'm close.”
Jayce pulls away just enough to speak against his cock, words vibrating against it. “Come in my mouth. Let me taste it.”
And oh, that does it. Within seconds of Jayce's lips wrapping around his cock again, Viktor comes. He slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle the way he groans through it, and the other hand, with a mind of its own, lands in Jayce's hair, tangling weakly in the messy strands.
Jayce sucks him through it, until Viktor makes a slightly pathetic squeak and twitches away from his mouth, and then he shifts his attention to Viktor's hole, spreading him with his thumbs at his outer labia and licking over him like he's trying to taste every single atom of his release.
Viktor waits until his panting subsides and his body falls lax into the sheets before saying anything.
“You are very good at that.”
Jayce, face once again buried in his hip, hums. “Helps when you taste that good.”
“Mm,” Viktor taps him on the head, “come up here and let me taste.”
Jayce eagerly clambers upwards and catches Viktor's lips in his own. His own taste on Jayce's tongue is familiar and in itself not arousing, but the fact that he's tasting it from another man's lips makes his cock twitch. He feels the wet drag of Jayce's beard against his chin.
“Your turn.” He says, breaking away to breathe. “How would you like me to make you come?”
Jayce looks dazed, eyes entirely unfocused. He leans in for another messy kiss. “Don't mind. Mh. Maybe your fingers? Really like kissing you like this, wanna come with your mouth on mine.”
It's about this moment that Viktor has the bizarre thought that maybe this is the best sex of his life.
“I can do that.” Viktor tells him. “Swap with me.”
It takes Jayce a moment to understand, and a further moment for the two of them to shift and move and switch positions, but after those few seconds, Jayce is on his back and Viktor is bearing over him, hands either side of his head, feeling something predatory stir in his gut.
“Do you want my fingers inside you? Or just over you?”
“Inside. Please fuck me with them.”
“Good.” He smiles. “Legs up then.”
“Up?”
“Like this.”
He spreads Jayce's legs either side of his own and then lifts Jayce's right and indicates for him to hold it at that angle, thigh pressed against his own stomach, folded neatly in half. He does the same to the other leg, but is distracted for a moment by a thick line of scarring up Jayce's left calf, mottled pink and white with age, shining like copper in the light.
“Bad break.” Jayce explains, and Viktor blinks to refocus on his face. “Had to have surgery to set it properly. Managed to shatter it in a couple of places.”
Viktor winces sympathetically. “Will you be comfortable in this position?”
“ More than comfortable.” Jayce looks up at him and the light catches his eyes in a way that makes them look golden .
Viktor lets go of his thigh, letting Jayce hold his legs up and open, and leans in to rest on them, pushing them just that little bit more apart and pressing his stomach to Jayce's. He's braced entirely against him; knees against his ass, stomach to stomach, holding him up without much effort as he catches his mouth in a kiss and finds his pectoral with one hand.
Jayce groans into his mouth when Viktor presses his thumb into his nipple.
Viktor snakes his other hand between the two of them and traces the seam of Jayce's thighs either side of his cock, fingers drawing patterns through the layer of slick over his skin.
“ Please .” Jayce whimpers. Like he needs it. Like he can't live another moment without Viktor's fingers on his cock.
Viktor gives him what he wants and swallows the moan Jayce gives him in return. He slides two fingers either side of the rock solid jut of Jayce's cock and feels him clench in anticipation. He's thick , thicker than Viktor's finger when he runs it down the length, and he's so sensitive it takes nearly nothing to have him keening into Viktor's mouth.
“ Inside , please.” Jayce whines. Their teeth clack together with the desperate way he moves and he cringes back a little “Ah, sorry. I'm so - fuck, please fuck me.”
“Very polite, aren't you?” Viktor teases. “Begging for it.”
And Jayce shudders. A beautiful feeling against him, like rippling water. Viktor grins against his mouth again, all teeth, and that predatory feeling simmers.
“You like, ah, ‘dirty talk’, don't you?”
“Like your voice.” Jayce admits.
“So it would be my voice turning you on right now, and not how I tell you that you're so desperately wet for me? So needy?”
A strangled sound. Viktor feels the pulse of blood against his fingers as Jayce gets improbably harder against him.
“Both.” Jayce whimpers. “It's both.”
Viktor slides his fingers downwards, traces them over Jayce's hole.
“And you want me inside you so badly, don't you?”
“ Yes .”
The change in mood is dizzying, the sudden shift from the even playing field they'd been on before to one where Jayce is quite clearly giving Viktor full control. Viktor has absolutely no qualms with it. He takes full charge of the kiss, pressing something deep and filthy into Jayce's mouth with his tongue and feeling how pliant he is for it, how he opens up and takes so willingly.
“I'm going to fuck you now.” Viktor tells him. “You're going to keep holding yourself open for me, and you're going to take what I'm giving you, okay?”
“Yes, fuck .”
“Good boy.”
And oh. The response that that gets. Another shudder, a trickle of slick from his entrance that Viktor feels against his fingers, a fluttering of his eyelashes when Viktor pulls back to look at his face a moment.
“Oh, that's what you want, isn't it?”
“ M-hm .”
With no further preamble, Viktor slides his middle finger into Jayce's warmth. His mouth waters at the way he parts so easily around him.
“You want to be good, don't you?”
Jayce nods so hard their heads almost knock together.
“You are.” Viktor tells him. “ Very good.” He builds a slow rhythm with his finger, keeping his eyes open even as he presses further kisses to Jayce's lips to look out for any signs of discomfort. When he sees none, he speeds up a little.
“Two, please.”
“Hm?”
Jayce presses their foreheads together and moans openly. “Two fingers.”
“Mm.” Viktor hums. “Already?”
Jayce whines like he's embarrassed. “You've gotten me, ah, pretty worked up here already.”
“Mm, I imagine you could take three , in that case.” Viktor's mouth moves without thinking. It's only once the words are out that he realises with a cold flash that teasing like that might be a little far for a hookup with no prior negotiation. A little presumptive.
But Jayce lets out the most beautifully wrecked sound and nods again, kissing Viktor on the tail end of the movement even more desperately than before.
“Yes?” Viktor says, a little quieter, seeking verbal confirmation.
“ Please .”
And how can Viktor deny him at that ? He pulls out his finger and traces three over Jayce's opening, reveling in the way Jayce arches into it, before he carefully slides all three inside. And Jayce wasn't wrong, he's so open for it, taking them all so incredibly well, up until Viktor feels the tightness catch at his knuckle and stops.
Jayce whines in protest.
“Does it hurt?”
“ No .” Jayce says, petulantly trying to roll his hips into the push of Viktor's fingers.
“You feel so tight here.”
“Feels good. I like the stretch.”
Viktor nips at his lower lip and kisses him again. “Tell me if it is too much. I do not want to hurt you.”
He pressed deeper with his fingers and feels as Jayce opens further for them, the initial tightness around his knuckles disappearing entirely as soon as Viktor crooks his fingers awkwardly, searching.
“ Fuck .” Jayce hisses, eyes fluttering. “What kind of wet dream did you step out of?”
Viktor snorts and buries his face in Jayce's neck to hide his laugh. He finds himself sharing the sentiment a shocking amount.
With Jayce so open around him, it's easy for Viktor to slide his fingers in and out, setting a lazy rhythm as he explores with his finger tips, flattening them against his inner walls and stroking experimentally. His palm is pressed against Jayce's cock, shifting and rubbing the smallest amount as he fucks into him.
He feels when he finds Jayce's g-spot, the way he clenches around him, nearly loses his grip on his legs, moans with surprise into his ear. Almost out of instinct, Viktor digs his teeth into his neck and Jayce quakes under him.
“That's it, good boy.” He hums, running his tongue over the indents left by his teeth. “So good.”
“Fuck - I - fuck -”
Jayce comes, hard , and Viktor presses his fingers greedy and deep into him, memorising the way he feels clenching and pushing around him, massaging his g-spot the whole time. He feels a trickle of wet run down into his palm, matched by the twitch of Jayce's cock.
“Good boy .” Viktor says, breathless and still pressing kisses to Jayce's neck. “That was very good.”
Jayce shivers against him and releases his thighs, letting his legs fall sideways and down and making Viktor drop a little onto him.
“Sorry.” He breathes. “ Wow .”
“Quite.” Viktor agrees. “I'm going to get up a moment.”
Jayce makes an affirmative noise and rolls his shoulders when Viktor clambers to sitting on the bed. Ah. He'd left his cane in the hallway.
Without the aid of his cane or brace, his movement towards the ensuite bathroom is an awkward shuffle, suddenly self-conscious as he is about his leg.
When he returns, washcloths in hand, Jayce is still lying in place, a fucked-out bliss over his face, chest rising and falling with steady breaths. His eyes roam lazily over Viktor's figure with a pleased smile, and he takes the cloth with a murmured thanks to run over his thigh and the space between his legs. Viktor watches, unabashedly, as Jayce strokes over himself and hisses at the sensitivity, before he sits and cleans himself up.
“I, uh,” Jayce says, after a moment of quiet between them, “I had a really good time.”
Viktor throws the cloths in the vague direction of his laundry basket. He shuffles to lying beside Jayce. “Me too.”
They face each other, and something concerningly warm coils in Viktor's stomach.
“Do you, uh… want to cuddle?”
Viktor can't help but to snort at how juvenile the question sounds, but nods as he does so, shifting closer to let Jayce encircle him with two big arms, pressing his face into the pillow of that chest .
“Mm.” Jayce hums contentedly. “I should get up soon, or I'll fall asleep here.”
Very uncharacteristically, Viktor finds himself protesting.
“You are welcome to stay.” Which is news to himself. He hates sharing a bed with strangers. Every other hookup he's ever had he's either outright refused to host to avoid the awkwardness of kicking another person out of his house, or has made it abundantly clear that he sleeps alone .
“I have work tomorrow.” Jayce sighs, sounding legitimately downtrodden about that fact. “And I didn't exactly bring my work bag out with me. I'd have to leave here at like, five thirty to get back anyway.”
Viktor squints at the wall. “Which is in four hours.”
“Yeah.”
“...I do not mind your alarm waking me.”
Jayce blinks down at him. “Are you sure?”
“I typically wake at six to take medication, anyway. Half an hour is not a great difference. And I will order you a taxi.”
“You don't need to order me a taxi.” Jayce protests.
“Mmh. Asleep now. Cannot hear anything you say. I will order it while you dress.”
“You don't -”
Viktor conjures a pretty impressive fake snore from the back of his throat, which has the desired effect of getting Jayce to drop the subject and start laughing. And he's not that far off from sleep, if he's honest. The release of endorphins have his limbs loose and the warm body around him feels almost like a cocoon, somewhere safe and secure to curl up in and rest.
“Fine.” Jayce huffs. “Yeah. As long as you don't mind.”
“I do not. Pull up the covers.”
Jayce has to pull away to lean down for the sheets, but after a minute he's back in his spot, and the red and blue of Viktor's blanket is wrapped around him, and Viktor succumbs to a deep and dreamless sleep.
Dreamless that it is, it feels like maybe five minutes before the shrill ring of an alarm splits his skull and he's groaning and burrowing his face deeper into the pillow of flesh in front of him. He's barely moved in his sleep, just enough that one of his arms now wraps around Jayce's waist, and his good leg is wedged between Jayce's thighs again.
He feels Jayce shifting, pulling one arm away, and then the slap of his hand against his phone in a closed-eyes attempt at turning his alarm off.
Eventually, the sound stops, and Jayce's arm returns to Viktor's back, and he huffs like a dog.
“G’morning.” His voice is low and thick with sleep. Viktor presses closer to him.
“Does not count as morning yet.” He huffs. “Sun is not yet up.”
Jayce hums against the top of his head. “I need to head home.”
Viktor makes a noncommittal grunt and makes no move away from him. The animal part of his brain registers that he can feel the heat of Jayce's groin on his thigh, and he wants to press closer and rub sleepily against it. He feels the dregs of alcohol in his system. He knows that when he wakes properly in a few hours, he's going to regret drinking so much, but right now he's still pleasantly fuzzy.
He makes another far more committal noise as Jayce gently extracts himself from Viktor's arms, grumpily shifting to lie face down on the bed once the other man has removed himself. He hears Jayce shifting and moving around the room, the clack of his belt and the gentle scratch of starched cotton as he buttons his shirt.
“You said you had meds to take?” Jayce prompts.
Viktor grunts and reaches out to clumsily open his bedside drawer and dig through. He finds his medication, pops two from the blister pack, and swallows them dry, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste when one sits just a little too far up his tongue.
“Right.” Jayce says. Viktor can hear him shuffling from foot to foot, like he's - oh.
“I am ordering the taxi now.” He says suddenly, pushing himself up onto his elbows and grabbing his own phone to do so.
“You don't have to!” Jayce protests. “I have it -”
“Already done.” Viktor interrupts. “Five minutes away.” He lies back down on his stomach and closes his eyes. “The license plate is on the screen.”
“Right.” More of that shuffling. “I, uh.” He sounds nervous . Viktor can hear it even through his haze of sleep. He rolls onto his side and squints over at Jayce. He's fully dressed, but bearing the distinct marks of a walk of shame in the dim pre-dawn light streaming through the window; shirt hopelessly wrinkled and hair all over the place. There's a bruise on his neck that Viktor doesn't remember putting there, but that awakens that predatory thing in his stomach again.
“Do you want to, uh, do that again?” Jayce asks.
Viktor blinks. “I thought you had work, no?”
“Not today.” Jayce runs a hand through his hair, messing it up further. “Another time. I really did have a lot of fun last night. I - can I get your number?”
There's that fluttering again.
“Yes.” Viktor says. “Give me your phone.”
Jayce looks like he's just won the lottery. He beams wide and bright and tugs his phone out of his pocket to unlock and hand to Viktor like Viktor is transferring him his winnings, rather than just putting in a contact number. And when Viktor hands it back, he holds it like something sacred.
Viktor's phone buzzes. He looks down. “Ah. They are outside.”
“Right.” Jayce hasn't stopped smiling. “I'll, uh, I'll text you?”
“I would like that.”
Viktor is far too awake to fall back to sleep once he hears the front door close behind Jayce. He lies in the dark, listening to the rumble of a car pulling away outside, and then his phone buzzes again.
[05299 922233 ]: hi, it's Jayce, thank you for the taxi
And then a second later.
[05299 922233 ]: :)
Viktor huffs a fond laugh and saves the contact.
You: you're welcome. I'll see you around.
Jayce: i hope so
He does manage to get to sleep after that, and only wakes up with one leg cramping and the beginnings of a migraine behind his left eye, which he's able to push back with a prophylactic and a litre of water that he drinks straight from the faucet in his bathroom.
And then he spends the next two days trying to come up with a reason to text Jayce.
Not exclusively . He also makes his way through about half the list of pre-reading he'd requested from the course leader and meets one of his friends for coffee, where he decidedly does not mention his hookup, because it's Sky , and while she's his oldest friend, he's also aware that she'd held a flame for him for a number of years when they were in their teens and it feels a little cruel to discuss his sex life with her knowing that.
He still hasn't thought of a good excuse when seven am on Monday rolls around and sees him standing in front of his mirror, trying to determine whether tying his hair back comes across as academic or simply trying too hard . He's more nervous than he thought he'd be. He very well may end up the oldest person on this course, and while he would like to act as though he does not mind what people think of him, he feels a twinge of anxiety as his brain runs through all the things his younger peers will assume of him.
He keeps his hair up, in the end, but forgoes the sweater-vest he'd intended on wearing in favour of a less academic maroon knit jumper that provides a little more of a barrier between himself and the rest of the world.
The train ride to Piltover Academy takes just under an hour. He has to transfer twice, as is typical when trying to travel out of the undercity; the rail network here feels like an afterthought, cutting through neighborhoods and below ground where it can between houses that were built long before Piltover had considered providing its poorest residents the same standard of transport.
Viktor spends the journey reading more of the list he'd been sent. He's genuinely enjoying it, the piece he's on currently is a PhD thesis on biomechanics that a student at the university had written only three years ago, and Viktor feels his fingers itch to make notes in the margins. He nearly misses his stop, would have entirely if it weren't for the gaggle of young people suddenly all rising to leave the carriage.
Piltover Academy is as grand as he remembers it. He'd completed his undergraduate here a decade ago, and yet the gold trimmed marble structures making up the building don't seem to have worn at all with time.
He's got a half hour before his introductory lecture, and so he moves on muscle memory over to the camps café, which does look different, and orders a latte, which he dumps six sugars into and sits with until it's a far more reasonable fifteen minutes before the lecture. And then he gets up, carries his cup with him, and makes his way down familiar halls to a small lecture hall in the engineering wing.
He's one of the first people in, but as he waits, sitting two rows from the front, the hall slowly fills. There are maybe fifty people by the time nine rolls around and the course leader, Professor Cecil Heimerdinger, takes to the podium at the front of the room.
“Welcome, new students!” He exclaims, voice loud in the quiet room. “We are very glad to have you all here with us. I do see a few familiar faces, too, and so I say welcome back to those of you rejoining us this year!”
His eyes linger on Viktor, smile wide beneath his whiskery mustache. Viktor shouldn't be surprised he recognises him, he was his assistant during his Bachelor's, but still, ten years have changed the both of them. He smiles back.
“Now, we'll begin by introducing our teaching team for the next year, before I will be running through the structure of the course and what to expect.” Heimerdinger clasps his hands together. “We are just waiting on -” The door at the back of the room swings open, and a voice calls out.
“Sorry I'm late! I was just grabbing some supplies!”
The voice is nauseatingly familiar.
“Ah.” Heimerdinger says, an exasperated fondness in his tone. “Doctor Talis, good of you to join us. If you'd just take a seat with your colleagues, we will be introducing you shortly.”
“Right. Sorry, Professor.” God, even the sheepishness is familiar.
Viktor doesn't hear the rest of Heimerdinger's speech. He doesn't register the first few people standing up to introduce themselves. He is solidly out of his own body until the owner of that voice stands at the podium and flashes that sparkling smile at the room, and he's suddenly in his own bedroom two nights ago, watching that man come apart beneath him.
“Hi, everyone! I'm Doctor Talis, but you're very welcome to call me -” Their eyes meet. Viktor sees recognition bloom over his features. Shock, confusion, horror . And he practically wheezes out the next word.
“Jayce.”