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Chapter Text

On that winter morning, Jayce ran into his partner standing in the corridor, in front of the lab door. Viktor had his cane braced between his knees and was struggling with something small and slippery – most likely a key – on his palm. He blew warm air on his hands before attempting to grip it again. He failed.

Jayce had already taken off his gloves and fished his own key out of his pocket. "Good morning. Need a hand?"

"I can handle it," Viktor said firmly, not even looking up.

Jayce nodded and slid his key back into his pocket. Patient, he waited as his partner finally managed to pick the key up with thin fingers pale from the cold and let out a triumphant sound as he jammed it into the lock.

A week later, Viktor was the first to arrive at the lab, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. As soon as he stepped inside, though, he knew something had changed. It was subtle but noticeable, at least to someone familiar with the organized chaos of their desks.

It didn't take long to pinpoint the anomaly. While his partner was nowhere in sight, there was a small package on the table, bearing a tag.

Viktor approached it with caution. During his tenure as Heimerdinger's assistant, he'd received all kinds of gifts from his admirers and friends, which had ranged from a swarm of live cockroaches (unlikely in winter, but still) to a vial of acid (though this package was much too flat) or a small explosive (he wouldn't be that shocked if it turned out to be a bomb).

This time the note, however, addressed him by name; not as Zaunite, as piece of filth or anything along those lines. Besides, the handwriting unmistakably belonged to Jayce.

Viktor,

I've only known you for a few months, but I still suspect you'll be annoyed with me over this... So please, let me just explain myself before there's a misunderstanding. You are not a charity case. I don't pity you, nor do I think you're incompetent or underperforming. It is at a purely professional level that I am concerned about your fingers.

So, please don't throw your cane at me when I walk through the door tomorrow.

Thanks.

Jayce

Viktor stared at the note for a few seconds, the furrow between his brows deepening. Then he decided to risk unwrapping the package. A pair of soft wool gloves fell out.

He set his cane aside to try them on. They fit perfectly; someone must have spent quite some time observing his hands. The gloves hugged his stiff fingers snugly, in a surprisingly soothing way.

He sighed, hoping he'd be strong enough to avoid spoiling himself by wearing them indoors as well. His partner would never shut up about it.

When Jayce arrived later that morning, he opened the door slowly, as though genuinely afraid Viktor might throw something at him.

As if he would… Well, alright, it had happened before… But that was different. That time, his partner had really been needlessly fussy over one of Viktor's fevers, even though all that he had needed was to work right through it. Rest was never the solution, not for him.

The gloves, however, weren't an act of fussiness; they were a professional suggestion from one colleague to another, a way to maximize their work efficiency. 

It would be bold to claim Viktor refrained from his favorite throwing sport because his partner's tiny, innocent smile warmed him across the room much more than the gift itself. Although, the gloves were nice too.

Chapter Text

"Viktor? Have you seen my planner?"

"Eh, did you check under the schematic for the magical greenhouse heater?"

"Right… Yeah, got it. Thanks." Jayce flipped to the correct page and jotted down a note to order a new set of screwdrivers. As he did, he glanced at the date and smiled. He hadn't even noticed it'd been four years since he'd last seen that particular date.

"February 29th is an interesting day," he said in a conversational voice, not expecting an actual conversation.

Viktor glanced up from the pile of cogwheels he was sifting through. His hands continued the delicate task even without his attention to guide them. "Interesting? I don't know about that. To me, it is but a lifeless mathematical anomaly, a human construct. Though, I do suppose it is an inconvenient day to be born. Administratively speaking."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Jayce joked, grinning, setting his pen down. He didn't want to get his hopes up… but perhaps there was a chance for some social exchange after all. Maybe all it took was the right topic…

Viktor's grimace tightened. "Hm." His focus switched back to searching for the gear that would fit.

"Wait, were you actually born on February 29th? That means it's your birthday today! Damn, I'm sorry I didn't get you anything…" Jayce ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was the one to snuff out the tiny spark of their still-toddling friendship this time. "You should've said something; I could've baked you a cake. I've done it once before; I'm somewhat sure I could remember."

"Oh, it doesn't bother me. I held no expectations." Viktor remained detached and stoic, distant in both tone and posture. "Besides, cakes are not my favorite treat. They're usually a festive affair, and I… Well, let's just say I am not much of a birthday person."

"It– Does that mean you only celebrated it once every four years as a kid?" Jayce tried not to feel sympathy. He knew his partner wouldn't appreciate it (he'd learned this the hard way; the hard way involving a flying cane).

Viktor's silence stayed forcefully calm. He leaned on his cane, thankfully not as a warning, casting a look out the window, as if turning toward the past. "In the Undercity, birthdays are hollow milestones, Jayce. They are not something we really celebrate. Just one more step closer to the toxic air ultimately beating us. There is no point in making the day special, and there are certainly not many resources for such frivolities."

The revelation hit Jayce hard. His own birthdays were tied to so many fond memories. Thanks to his mother, he had always felt special on that day… 

For a moment, he got lost in memories of the smell of candles and echoes of laughter.

"So, you've never had a birthday party?" he broke the silence then.

"Eh? No, probably not." His partner showed mild surprise that Jayce was still clinging to the same topic.

"Would you… How about we celebrate it tomorrow? We could go out for lunch, take a couple hours off." Jayce again tried to tone his hopefulness down.

Viktor blinked. He didn't return to his gears as swiftly as before. "I mean, it is… a nice offer, but I'm content just like this. I have no need to dramatize it. Twenty-three to twenty-four – a difference of one digit... Aging is a gradual process; technically, I'm one day older than I was yesterday, not a whole year. I am still the same."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"I'll feel guilty if I can't at least say happy birthday," Jayce pressed on.

"Then say it." Viktor couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Jayce walked around the table so he could look him in the eyes. "Happy birthday, Viktor," he murmured sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder.

His partner stiffened slightly under the touch, for a bunch of different reasons Jayce pictured as a series of overlapping curves in a Venn diagram.

Then the moment passed, and they returned to work. Still, Jayce was certain of what he'd seen: a brief flicker of tenderness, gratitude, in Viktor's eyes. Whatever category the reason behind this fell into remained a mystery, though.

Jayce later got him a pair of socks anyway, simply because he wanted to. They were dark blue (to match his gloves), not too loose or tight, so they'd be easy to remove with Viktor's brace. It was cold outside, and it just made sense. Moreover, he didn't know the man well enough to buy him something more personal. Not yet.

And so, Viktor spent all the morning ranting about levity and Piltovan spendthrift. But the next day, a blue stripe was visible under the hem of his trousers. Jayce tried not to feel smug about it, and failed miserably. Such small gestures which allowed him to bond with Viktor filled him with an absurd amount of joy.

February 29th became more significant to him after that. It was, after all, the day that had given him his brilliant partner. Really, it made perfect sense; an extraordinary day for an extraordinary person. Jayce put down a note on the cover of his planner, to make sure he'd remember from now on – even in non-leap years – to subtly make up for all the celebrations Viktor had missed. His partner was no lifeless mathematical anomaly. He wasn't quantifiable.

Jayce reckoned he'd thereby found an activity for the next twenty-three years. That made him smile. Pondering it seriously, he realized he wasn't scared of the idea of still hanging about in a lab with Viktor after all that time. It was in fact full of possibilities.

Chapter Text

"Hey, I can see the desk's surface, Viktor!"

"Don't get too excited; you are probably hallucinating. I doubt the desktop is anywhere near you at this stage," Viktor replied, his tone dry, from across the lab where he was working his way through his own share of the mess. "Seriously. You almost lead one to believe that you find joy in cleaning."

"It just has to be done sometimes. And spring is pretty much perfect for it," Jayce said cheerfully as he sifted through piles of sketches, models, and drafting tools. Beneath the clutter, he stumbled upon a half-eaten ham sandwich that'd been inedible for only a few days too many.

He discreetly tossed it in the trash before Viktor, who was more or less opposed to food in the lab, could notice. In the time he'd known him, Jayce had realized Viktor seemed to be against the concept of snack breaks in general – for himself, anyway. Jayce's own breaks, on the other hand, were tolerated with a hypocritical sort of ease. Not that Jayce often left his side for more than a few minutes in such a case. Leaving him unsupervised could, after all, very well result in his reckless partner moving permanently into the lab and working himself to death.

Jayce continued sorting papers into relevant and obsolete piles. Some of the discarded theories he kept just in case they needed revisiting, while the rest he aimed to get rid of entirely. Carrying his fourth sorted stack of the day to the door, he noticed a slip of paper that'd fallen from the pile. He automatically picked it up. 

He noted the words on it were incomprehensible to him. Guessing it was some dialect of Zaunite, he cleared his throat and brought the discovery to Viktor, to whom it presumably belonged.

He didn't expect his partner to go visibly pale, stumble, and drop the note as if his entire life had just flashed before his eyes.

"What's wrong? What does it say?" Jayce asked, growing uneasy. Based on Viktor's reaction, he was almost afraid to ask.

"I forgot I left that here," Viktor murmured after a moment. He looked up with a guarded expression. "I was planning to burn it."

"And… what is it again?" Jayce pressed cautiously.

Viktor pierced him with an unreadable stare. Then he took a deep breath. "It is the recipe for my Aunt Vendelína's pudding."

"What?" Jayce blinked, caught completely off guard. "I thought it was… I don't know, some kind of curse or an offensive message from your past."

"Both would fit." Viktor gave it a deadpan nod. "The recipe includes ground tubeworms, glowmoss from the caves, and a substance almost indistinguishable from Shimmer. I cannot count how many times I was forced to consume it as a child, clueless about what my dear aunt put in it."

"Why do you have the recipe here, then? Did you come to miss it?" Jayce asked, confused but determined not to judge. He'd endure a lot to make Viktor feel more at home.

"Hell, no." Viktor groaned in disgust. "Once, I made the mistake of lying to her that I liked it." He heaved a sigh. "Some time ago, I wrote home about my new job, working as your partner. Aunt Vendelína was the only one who replied. She sent this."

Jayce wasn't sure how to respond.

"If only communicating with one's extended family always yielded such straightforward results," he finally said. "Think of it this way; at least you know what she thinks of you."

Viktor managed a cynical half-smile. "I suppose that is true in a way. Directness comes much more naturally to Zaunites than your Piltover-style dancing around the issue."

"Did you mean dancing around the pudding?" Jayce picked up the slip from the floor and tucked it into his pocket with a mischievous grin. "I'll get it translated."

His partner's eyes widened. "Don't you dare."

"I dare. Come on, I've always wanted to learn more about Zaunite culture. Your culture, Viktor," Jayce teased, while still being mostly serious. "What's wrong with that?"

"You are a Piltie, raised on pudding that is not toxic," Viktor shot back, unimpressed. "You are not tough enough for this. One bite and you're a dead man. I don't intend to be my aunt's accomplice in her atrocities."

"Oh, I wouldn't eat it… but maybe I could offer it to law enforcers as ammunition."

"You are speaking of my family's heritage. Choose your words wisely," Viktor warned, though the corners of his mouth twitched involuntarily.

"You're part of your family too, Viktor. I have this feeling that what the two of us have accomplished outmatches your aunt's pudding's firepower."

"I wouldn't be so sure. She could make anyone's stomach ache." There was a hint of inexplicable nostalgia in Viktor's voice.

Jayce laughed openly. "Well, you've given me plenty of headaches, with all the ideas you've sparked in my brain. You're a very… stimulating partner."

This time, the projectile in the shape of Viktor's cane found its mark. The hit had a strangely affectionate quality to it.

Chapter Text

Viktor was having a quiet, uneventful morning. When his partner joined him in the lab, he nodded in greeting but otherwise didn't look up. Everything was under control, and he had no intention of letting himself be distracted. 

That was until his partner asked him, "You ready for the presentation to the Council at ten? Because I thought we should maybe compare our notes. It's pretty important, after all."

Alarm rippled through Viktor's focused morning haze. Yet, he kept his tone careful; his partner had to be mistaken. "What… what presentation? What are you talking about, Jayce?"

Jayce folded the paper in his hand and gave him a concerned look. "The progress report on the hexgates, of course. It's been scheduled since December. You… forgot about it?"

"No, I… I was under the impression… Is it really today?" Viktor didn't want to show his rising panic. He felt like he'd never heard about the event before. How would he possibly forget?

Jayce silently reached for his planner, his expression now a mix of worry and surprise. "Here, if you don't believe me. Are you feeling okay? This isn't like you, to forget the most important presentation of the semester."

Viktor grabbed the planner and sank back into his chair as his knees buckled. This had to mean he was in worse shape than he thought. He really had no memory of the presentation whatsoever.

"I am sorry, I don't recall this at all." There was an urge to slap himself, which he resisted. He'd been sleeping poorly, eating as he usually did (that is, hardly at all), and now everything was catching up with him. He felt like the biggest failure. Still distracted by his shock, he found it difficult to think straight. "What do we do now? Can we wing it with only your notes? We are supposed to be there in seventeen minutes. Oh, crap, am I seriously just that useless? I cannot imagine what you have done to deserve a partner lame like me," he mumbled, bitter.

"No, Viktor," Jayce was genuinely taken aback, "don't talk like that about–"

But Viktor went on, refusing to be soothed by words he knew he didn't deserve. "Maybe you should replace me with someone. Yes, you probably should. My judgment has proven faulty on several occasions in the past, and hextech does not deserve errors. It is a task far too delicate for someone of my flaws, now I see it..."

His fingers were trembling as he, absent-minded, flipped to the date in the planner, although he didn't actually look at it. He suspected the letters would blur in front of him like shadows in a fog anyway.

"No, no, I didn't mean– Viktor, where the hell is this coming from? I had no idea you felt this way. I mean, come on, being wrong is human… What is science if not mistakes? Besides," Jayce grasped his wrist, "you are anything but useless. You're my partner, and you have every right to work with me as long as you want – and make mistakes! I might add, the latter doesn't happen often for you."

"Oh, but it does. Right now, I have the most massive mental blank you can possibly imagine," Viktor muttered, gloomy. "My fallibility is much larger than yours."

"That's just because you're bolder." Jayce sighed and released his wrist. "I'm so sorry. This has gone too far. I assumed... Nevermind. Could you please just look at the planner?"

Viktor was now thoroughly confused, but obeyed.

He blinked.

He blinked again, staring at the small note next to the date. It read: April Fool's. Prank Viktor. A little smiley face was sketched next to it. It was so innocent.

"Eh, so… This presentation is a joke, correct?" It dawned on him. "There is none planned."

Jayce flinched. "Yeah. Again, sorry, it was a terrible prank idea. It's not even funny. I had no idea you'd take it so personally." From the way he was cringing, he probably expected Viktor to hit him with his cane. However, he made no attempt to escape his reach, as if he believed he deserved any blows that might come.

Viktor wasn't angry, though. He was flooded with too much relief for that. For a moment there, he'd feared episodes of memory loss would join his long list of symptoms. He was overjoyed to be wrong. In this instance, he was glad he made a mistake.

He let out a short chuckle and tossed the planner back to his partner. "Alright then, April Fool's is over. Now, back to real work."

Jayce could only be certain his partner honestly wasn't upset and had taken the whole incident in stride when Viktor gave him a thin booklet for his birthday a week later, titled How to Prepare an Astounding Presentation in 20 Minutes Without Breaking a Sweat.

When Jayce opened it, he found no actual pages behind the deceptive cover. Instead, there was a single glued-in slip of paper bearing seven words in Viktor's handwriting: Idiot. You would have fallen for it.

Tucked inside also was a ticket to a play adaptation of a novel by Jayce's favorite author. However, he didn't get rid of the fake booklet. He took it home and set it on his bedside table, where he spent half an hour grinning at it before his eyes fell closed.

Unsuspecting, he drifted off into the dreamland. His surroundings morphed into a theater. The play vaguely resembled the plot of the one he was supposed to go see – except every character was portrayed by Viktor who was beating a Jayce-shaped piñata with his cane. Jayce himself was delivering a heartfelt monologue, presenting a pudding recipe.

The booklet he'd been given became a person in the dream. It was seated in the audience, together with the Council members.

They were all covered in green slime when the pudding exploded. 

There was no applause.

Chapter Text

"Well? What is the matter, Jayce? You have been on edge for about a week now. Literally rocking on your toes." One moment, Viktor was facing his equations and scribbling, and the next, he turned away from the board, chalk in hand, his attention focused on his partner.

Jayce stopped bouncing on his heels and gave a nervous smile. "You noticed? Oh. Um... I'm just... having a bit of a crisis."

"Eh? Which end of the world is scheduled this week?" Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing major. Really, I've simply been thinking about the future, Viktor." Jayce sighed.

"And why does that make you so anxious? Hextech is Piltover's future. Your future is thus secure."

"You'll think it's silly… Fine, I'll tell you anyway – my friend Caitlyn recently confided in me how a four-leaf clover helped her ace her exams. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since."

"About four-leaf clovers?" his partner asked understandingly, as if it all immediately began making sense to him.

"No, about kissing under a blooming cherry tree in May."

"Sorry? Come again?"

"It's a Piltovan tradition. It's supposed to… um, bring good luck. And I thought I could use some. But now I've subconsciously developed a fear that if no one kisses me, I'll be unlucky, even though propositional calculus in no way implies so. I've been walking home through the park for the past two weeks because of it. But I'm always alone – and today's the last day of May." Jayce was really starting to feel the signs of nascent hysteria as he started talking about what was on his mind. To hell with Cait and the power of psychological suggestion.

"I see. Well, why don't you take this problem to someone who can actually solve it? A man like you won't have trouble finding a lovely girl to stroll through the cherry grove with." Viktor delivered the line with the utmost nonchalance.

Jayce felt his face heat up. "I, um, I've always been shy about asking girls out. And to do so for something like this, I'd feel just stupid."

"Whereas discussing it with me during work hours isn't silly at all. What, do you want me to kiss you or something?" Viktor quipped, amused, tossing the chalk aside.

A brief silence fell. Then they both started speaking at once.

"Just to be clear, Jayce, that was a joke." Viktor tilted his head.

"You're serious? I certainly wouldn't mind, it might as well be just what I needed, in fact." Jayce was being completely platonic with that, of course.

They both stopped short, squinting at each other briefly, before speaking simultaneously again.

"Ugh, sorry. This is… so awkward," Jayce groaned, feeling a wave of heat flush his entire body this time. "How about we just drop it?"

"If it would be enough for you to do it here and not under a cherry tree, for the sake of your peace of mind and ensuring the future of hextech, I'd do it," Viktor said at the same time.

Jayce blushed so hard he could feel the warmth spreading to his fingertips. This was getting absurd. "No, I... Forget about it."

"Sure, as you wish," Viktor replied calmly. He picked up the chalk and turned back to the board. "I just thought I heard you say you wouldn't mind." Then he muttered dryly something under his breath that sort of sounded like, "Which, apparently, doesn't mean the same thing in your language as it does in mine. My bad."

Jayce had given up hope. Therefore it took him a while later that night, as they walked home together, to notice his partner was leading him toward the park. He didn't dare say anything out loud. Maybe it was unintentional? Although, it didn't seem likely the pragmatic, efficient, cane-bound Viktor would want to take a detour...

The blossoms on the cherry trees in the alley were already closing in the chill of the night. The last night of May was slipping away. They reached the end of the path, and Jayce had already gotten relaxed, his anticipation having dissipated. 

Just then Viktor grabbed his hand, stopping him beneath the second-to-last cherry tree in the row.

Jayce's throat went dry instantly. "Uh, Viktor–"

His partner didn't let him finish. "This matters to you. And who knows? Perhaps it really will help something."

He gave a slightly strained smile. Then he rose onto his toes, leaned in, and brushed his lips against Jayce's cheek so softly it could almost have been mistaken for a spring breeze. 

While some might've been disappointed by such a modest May kiss, Jayce got such a surge of endorphins he had to think to himself he was lucky he was still standing.

At that moment, he also realized something, and his epiphany made him long to burst out laughing with disbelieving excitement. After all, the greatest fortune had already come his way when he'd managed to make such a wonderful friend… and wow, Jayce was looking forward to the future.

If only it would come as soon as tomorrow.

Chapter Text

"When I gave you that ticket, I genuinely didn't anticipate you would drag me along," Viktor complained as they walked. He kept looking around the street, as though he feared an anthropomorphic personification of unfinished work might jumpscare him. It was a constant storm cloud of responsibility he'd left hanging in the lab. "Let me clarify and emphasize there are plenty of more productive ways I could be spending my time."

"Don't be like that. It's evening anyway; we'd be heading home in two hours regardless. Did you really think I'd go to the theater alone?" Jayce adjusted his pace to match Viktor's without thinking.

"I expected you to take one of your other friends. Miss Kiramman, perhaps... or Councilor Medarda, if you please," Viktor grumbled, trudging along with his cane tapping loudly against the pavement. "I am positive either of them would enjoy a theatrical production of Alchemy of Hope far more than I would. I am not a man of culture, and I have neither the reason nor the desire to change that."

"You already agreed. Tonight, you're making an exception." Jayce hid an excited grin.

He was delighted to have Viktor with him. The theater was a bit of a formal occasion, and his partner, while grumpy, wasn't ignorant by any means. In a tight-fitting, slightly old-fashioned suit with a dark green bow tie that brought out the amber gold in his eyes, he looked stunning. Jayce tried not to dwell on that conclusion too much, as well as to suppress the alarming realization that this scenario was weirdly close to his idea of a perfect date. He wasn't very successful in his attempts; Viktor usually wore his stylish yet familiar academic uniform, therefore this change hit hard.

"By the way, I have no idea what kind of fiction Councilor Medarda enjoys," Jayce then muttered. "Taking her to such a specific genre would be risky. It's usually only appreciated by people with… well, specific tastes. And Caitlyn despises the theater even more than you do. She spent too many hours of her childhood staring blankly at curtains."

They arrived at the grandly decorated building of the Theater of Piltover. They took a moment standing in front of it, sort of admiring the architecture, mostly appreciating the quiet space where they could talk. This street wasn't particularly crowded.

"So instead, you decided to torment me," Viktor deadpanned, though it was clear he wasn't truly upset.

"Well, forgive me for wanting to share the experience with a friend." Jayce couldn't but beam. An unnecessarily offended Viktor had to be one of the most adorable things he'd seen lately. "Seriously; you're making it sound like I'm forcing you to go to the dentist. Surely, you've been to a play before? Don't tell me you hated it that much."

"I have been to the theater once," Viktor admitted, his poker face still on. His tone carried a faint air of trauma. "When Heimerdinger first accepted me as his assistant, he said we needed to celebrate. He made me enter this very building, and I had to endure the entirety of The Gilded Tower, or whatever it was called. I never fully grasped the story's point. Those three hours of my life are gone forever."

"Ah, yes, The Gilded Tower." Jayce nodded knowingly. Of course, he was familiar with the play, nearly every Piltie was. On the other hand, he could see why someone from the Undercity might find the story of a tower uniting a divided city far-fetched and naive. The complex archetypal metaphors likely didn't help. "A challenging choice for a novice theatergoer. Heimerdinger was probably trying to bridge cultural gaps between Piltover and Zaun..."

"With such a farce?" Viktor snorted, no apologies. "I am telling you, he just wanted to poke fun at me. He went on and on about the play for two days afterwards, referencing some moral conflict and the analogy of a middle-class baker – I felt like he'd watched an entirely different performance than I did. During my first week with him, I nearly quit. I was terrified he would be like that all the time. Well, and then he kind of was…"

"Maybe he was testing your limits." Jayce chuckled before growing a little more serious. He briefly rested his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Don't worry. Alchemy of Hope is the complete opposite of The Gilded Tower. I wouldn't have asked you to come if I didn't think you'd appreciate the topic."

"If you say so." Viktor still looked like a sheep being led to the shearing.

Jayce glanced at the theater. "Well, shall we?" 

Only half-jokingly, he offered his partner his arm.

Viktor swatted it away with an irritable glare and began climbing the stairs to the entrance. "Eh, let's get this over with." 

Even from behind, it was clear he was smiling.

Chapter Text

"Good morning, sunshine! It's hot outside and the sun is shining," Jayce announced cheerfully from the door, clearly proud of his clever wordplay.

He shut the door behind him and walked over to his partner to check on what he was working on. His muscular arms swung freely by his confident torso in a tight, sleeveless top. As he mentioned the previous evening, he planned to head to the forge for a few hours before noon, where overdressing was never practical.

Conveniently, his lack of cover was found useful by Viktor as well. Uh, I see it is not just the sun that is hot today. However, it seems the sun was the only thing to blame for any burning done. He thoroughly checked Jayce out, pausing on his bare shoulders, arms, and neck, where the skin was dark red and cracked.

He licked his slightly dry lips, serious. "Yes, I can see that, sunshine. You are aware that too much sunlight can be dangerous, I hope?"

"I'm not a vampire," Jayce dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Very well. And I assume you are also immune to skin cancer?" Viktor reached for a ruler for his sketch, casually brushing against Jayce's shoulder.

Jayce hissed as the sensitive sunburned skin came into contact with anything solid. His nonchalance took a hit. "Fine, maybe I should've worn long sleeves. Now that I think about it, it does hurt… I just love summer, though."

A brilliant mind sometimes came packaged with the soul of a big child.

Viktor sighed, shaking his head. He decided he'd let it interrupt his work for a moment. "Take a seat. I think I have some ointment around here."

Jayce pulled up a chair.

He flinched as Viktor applied the ointment to his shoulder. It didn't feel cold as he'd expected. The ointment quickly warmed on Viktor's palms and fingers, which were firm and swift against his skin. The effects kicked in almost instantly.

Jayce touched the shoulder. His skin tingled. It went numb.

"Thanks, that's much better," he said, almost surprised.

"It is my own invention," Viktor replied with a touch of pride. "I came up with it when I started as a student at the Academy. As you can imagine, there's not a great deal of sun exposure in the Undercity. My first summer here could have turned out tormenting without perfecting the formula."

Jayce sighed in soft content as Viktor's fingers moved to his neck, which had taken the brunt of the sun. As his partner made a motion to pull back, he held him in place for a moment, covering his hand with his own. "May I know what's the miraculous ingredient? Or is it a secret?"

Viktor let his ointment-covered fingers rest where they were. He asked no questions. It was far too comfortable not to stop touching him. "The main ingredient is rustmoss."

"It's all about moss in Zaun, huh?" Jayce's eyebrows were raised in a resigned manner. "Isn't rustmoss a pretty strong drug, though?"

"That is why it's perfect. It has numbing properties, and most Zaunites know that." Viktor shook his head. "What do you think pharmacists put in pills and potions? Were the extracts to have no effect, lacking required potency, they would also be rendered useless."

"Of course, you're right. But I'd still let you drug me anytime if you weren't." Jayce tilted his head back, beaming at his partner.

Viktor slowly removed his hand and, not for the first time, wondered what the hell he had done to this man.

However, his partner was not done. "Because maybe I need it, you know? To be numbed, cooled down a bit. I mean, to be honest, I don't get out much, on the other hand, it's not necessary for me to leave the lab to get burnt. Sometimes, you're all the sun I need, Viktor. My sunshine. Just about the only thing in my life that keeps making sense."

Jayce never stammered.

Viktor was forced to turn back to the desk. He had to actively stop himself from uttering something along the lines of oh, we'd spent so many nights in this lab together you have become my moonshine in response. Jayce could be intoxicating, the most wonderful thing being he mostly had no idea how attractive the way he behaved was. While Viktor was touched by the sentiment, he wasn't suicidal. He couldn't just lay his heart bare, put himself out there – not in such a corny way and definitely not as the first thing in the morning. Hell, this deep bullshitting he had to put up with…

In the end, he expressed himself in a neutral grumble, his cheeks pink. He cursed the summer heat. Yes, it was the stupid weather that was responsible for this mess – it obviously tempted people to use cheap lines and tell pretty lies. It would creep under their skin, making it seem like the sun was burning inside them.

Summer simply had that power. Combined with seemingly sincere words, Viktor actually caught himself feeling like a burning object in the sky for a moment. The only star in Jayce's sky– no, that was too much. Such thoughts were risky.

He shook his head again and forced out a dry reply. "Perhaps you should watch out not to fly too close to the sun in the haze of your magnificence, then. We wouldn't want the wax holding your wings together to melt."

He cringed at his own words. What kind of analogy even was that? He was trying to be normal about this, not the exact opposite, right? It was all backward, really. He was but a crippled Zaunite – he belonged underground, away from the spotlight, not in the sky as some godlike idol. He was the very antithesis of a star. And yet… 

Yet it seemed Jayce didn't find anything inadequate about Viktor's metaphor or his own. As though he actually... meant it?

He stood beside Viktor at the workbench, wearing gloves and a wide, carefree smile on his sun-kissed face. He picked up the hextech-powered welder. "Oh, no worries. I know where my place is." His smile was replaced by a teasing smirk. "Right next to the sun, so I can reflect his light and share it with the world." The smirk then morphed into a pensive expression. "You know, in a way, I suppose a selfish one, I'm glad some stars burn only on certain skies. Because even though I understand and sometimes feel sorry others can't see their brilliance, I can console myself knowing that I can. And… I really like that, Viktor."

He patted Viktor's shoulder before pulling the protective shield over his eyes. "But I'd better shield my eyes anyway. I wouldn't want the glow of their glory to burn them out."

Grimacing, Viktor finally couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He took a breath. "I am sorry, Jayce, that was ridiculously cheesy."

"Hm, maybe it was. But don't tell me it doesn't work." His partner chuckled softly, and proceeded to wink at him from beneath the welding mask.

"I– I will refrain from commenting." Viktor turned his face away again, pretending it was to focus on his sketch and not due to the fierce flush that flared on his cheeks. He was confused and more than a little frustrated.

Why he kept his precious sketch near the sparks from Jayce's welder, he had no idea and didn't dare to ponder. For the life of him, he couldn't move or tell his partner to keep his distance, even at the risk of disaster befalling his project.

If it were winter, you could say he was dancing on thin ice. In July, Viktor could only shrug and say he, too, was only human at times.

Chapter Text

The ropes of rain fell down from the sky's bruised canvas in a violent shower. Viktor watched from the window in a rare free moment that occurred as he scribbled today's penultimate formula, suddenly stopping to think. Naturally, he wasn't naive enough to imagine the summer months automatically meant solely sunshine and heat. Truth be told, he hadn't experienced much of that in his lifetime. Now, he could be at least positive he wasn't the only one – even the people of Piltover couldn't always be blessed with fluffy clouds and azure skies. Though they usually were.

He caught himself wondering whether he'd have to swim home tonight. That'd suck; he didn't know how to swim.

Just then, the lab door flew open. Jayce returned.

"There's flooding in the southern part of the city," he informed his partner about what he'd picked up during his attempt to head home. His hair, plastered to his forehead, made him look like a concerned wet chicken in an Academy uniform.

Viktor turned to face him, his tired eyes protesting against the bright light filling the room. 

"Flooding?" he croaked. Well, that was new. The Undercity was protected against flooding by a clever system of gutters; a deluge in the canyon would be a disaster Zaun wouldn't easily recover from.

"It's not too bad," Jayce reassured him. "So far, they're evacuating people from below in peace, and those in the upper floors are still safe."

Viktor understood the implication. "So this building is where we are staying tonight." 

He glanced around the lab, grimacing. It wouldn't be the first time he'd spent a night within its walls. That didn't mean he found it pleasant.

"It's probably safer, yeah," Jayce agreed, shifting awkwardly. "I was actually going to… Do you want to go to sleep now, or...?"

"I still have two or three equations left. Then we can turn out the lights, if you want."

"It's always the penultimate ones, huh?" His partner gave it a knowing nod. He sat down in an empty chair, his gaze fixed on the chalkboard.

Viktor made a grunting noise in response. He was used to Jayce peering over his shoulder. He'd worked in far worse conditions, so the curious, intelligent eyes on his back didn't bother him. He did the necessary math, and reached his conclusions. Then it was time to call it a night, that was the agreement.

Except his mind was running at full speed, right now physically unable to rest.

He sighed, annoyed with himself. He wasn't like Jayce, perfect and controlled. He couldn't simply tell himself: now I will take my sleep, nice and long, please, so I am not dead on my feet tomorrow. Tonight, however, he wasn't alone in the room, he couldn't keep the lights on all night.

He looked over his shoulder, trying in vain to switch into a different mode. "Are you going to sleep in the chair?"

"I was considering it. But the floor seems safer." Weirdly cheerful, Jayce seemed to treat the whole affair almost like a sleepover.

"The table is not half bad either," Viktor muttered under his breath, reluctantly setting the chalk down. His hand immediately felt empty.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. You may turn off the light."

They found a spot on the floor near the large street-facing window, where a bit of light filtered in from the streetlamps, although it was further dimmed by the relentless sheets of rain. Jayce lay on his back, then turned onto his side, then onto his stomach. He huffed in dissatisfaction but didn't speak. He likely wasn't used to this and was apparently starting to realize every adventure came with some amount of discomfort.

Viktor, on the other hand, stayed still, his cane within reach in case he needed to get up in the middle of the night (since he usually did; uninterrupted sleep wasn't his thing). Hard surfaces and sharp edges had been his reality all his life. At least the lab felt warm and dry, familiar. He might be able to fall asleep – if only his hand would stop trembling with the urge to grab the chalk to face the army of numbers marching through his mind…

"Can't sleep?" his partner's voice broke through his thoughts, as if reading his mind.

"The transition from work to rest was too quick," Viktor mumbled. "It is a problem I have, I guess. My fingers are still running on momentum, sketching shapes and chasing equations in the air…"

"We wouldn't want you to get no sleep at all. Look, if it helps you fall asleep, you could grab my hand or something." Jayce's tone wasn't hesitant. To him, such a solution seemed as natural as breathing (of course, breathing, too, was something he'd take for granted).

Viktor considered retorting that if providing the fingers with something to squeeze was the answer sought, he might as well hold his own hand. He did possess two functioning upper limbs, just like Piltover's golden boy. In the end, though, he didn't mention any of it.

He only muttered, "Eh, I would feel like a child afraid of the dark."

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid from time to time." Jayce's sleepy voice was soothing.

"I'm not afraid." Viktor gulped.

It was more like solicitude – a mix of anxiety, the weight of anticipation, uncertainty in an unfamiliar situation – that he felt. Not even remotely related to fear, honestly.

His fingers reached out into the darkness, fumbled, then carefully closed around Jayce's warm, calloused hand, rough from time spent in the forge.

There. He wasn't scared of touching Jayce, alright?

That was when his partner chose to move the hand.

Viktor froze, instinctively tightening his grip before forcing himself to relax. Right, of course, Jayce wasn't pulling away. He was simply finding a more comfortable position for his wrist.

Maybe if Viktor thought of him as one of the ideas he needed to seize by the horns, the sacred awe of the moment – filling him with both joy and trepidation, as though it were some forbidden experiment – would dissipate.

"Everything okay, Viktor?" Jayce whispered. "I mean, if the rest of your body is as stiff as your arm, it can't be comfortable."

"I am perfectly fine, thank you," Viktor insisted.

Jayce gently ran the pad of his thumb over the back of his hand in response, nearly giving his partner a heart attack. 

Still tense, Viktor shook his head internally. This wouldn't work, Jayce couldn't become just another equation for him, abandoned once solved. He wasn't a single idea; instead, he resembled the entire wellspring of thoughts, emotions, talents, quirks and dreams. In other words, a person. A flesh-and-blood human being willing to hold Viktor's hand like it was no big deal... as though he wasn't the first one to ever do so willingly.

He was a river – a dynamic, moving concept, wild in its beauty, easy to love and impossible to stop or forget. To simplify it would mean perceiving him as "the Poster Guy", the two-dimensional symbol of progress most of the city saw.

Viktor had no desire to be like them. He'd grown fond of Jayce's humanity. If he wanted a tool, he wouldn't have gotten a partner.

While it was sometimes challenging to tell the difference, Jayce wasn't his job, even if he occupied Viktor's thoughts several times a day during working hours. Despite being an integral part of the job, his human aspects couldn't be discounted. He was a co-coordinator of their efforts, as well as Viktor's favorite cog in the machine, and the wind beneath his broken wings that had finally allowed him to fly.

He therefore wasn't an obligation, rather a… hobby, if anything. A hobby dear to Viktor's heart, one so wonderfully naive he took breathing for granted and didn't mind holding his lab partner at night, with a storm raging outside their walls. A warm, cuddly pillow that snored just the perfect amount – enough to be endearing and not loudly enough to make it unbearable. He wasn't sharp-edged, he wouldn't make things that got too close to him bleed on a regular basis.

Viktor fell asleep faster than he had any other night that week. He clung to Jayce's hand till the last moment, listening to the faint sound of rain hitting the glass. There was no solicitude or fear, only the quiet murmur of old scars on his soul slowly healing, resonating to the rhythm of their hearts beating together. It turned out he was perfectly fine after all.

And soon, he'd even begin to feel like he found a second purpose besides hextech in life – one he hadn't realized he was looking for.

Chapter Text

"Are you planning on disclosing where you are dragging me anytime soon? Jayce. Hello? You need to slow down if you want me to keep up with you." Usually, it wasn't necessary to remind him. This really had to be something big.

"Sorry, um, I'm sort of excited. Suppose I got carried away a bit." Jayce stopped completely and waited for him. Even while exhibiting a patient stance, he could be noticed brimming with energy.

"Excited about all these stairs?" Viktor huffed, wrapping his arms around his frame. The higher they climbed within the Academy building, the colder the air grew, and he now regretted not bringing a sweater. He couldn't blame himself too much this time, reasoning very few people could maintain coherent, logical thinking if Jayce Talis grabbed their hand after work, eyes sparkling with barely concealed exhilaration, and cryptically announced he had something to show them. Viktor's own composure in the face of such a surprise was mostly a lie, in any case.

Secrecy was charming, too. Normally, he wasn't fond of this kind of behavior, considering it a sign of arrogance, but he made an exception for Jayce. Or perhaps, in this specific instance, arrogance at some point ceased being a negative trait in his eyes.

"You'll see, you'll see," was all his partner said in response to his questions.

In spite of his aversion to ostentation and grand gestures, Viktor couldn't deny he had a bit of a soft spot for surprises. At least for the rare, spontaneous little treats from Jayce. It was foolish, but they made Viktor feel… important. Up to that point, he was used to being surprised only in the form of disappointment when he for once dared to hope. No one had ever coddled him enough to bother hiding harsh truths or anything else from him.

Just as he started getting dizzy from the endless spiral staircase, his partner finally stopped. They were just beneath the roof.

Jayce opened a half-hidden door beside the staircase, and a gust of wind immediately yanked it from his hand.

Viktor was panting from the physical strain, still Jayce's trademark enthusiasm was sure to cause him to feel the similar passionate anticipation. Summoning what remained of his strength, he hobbled through the doorway onto a tiny balcony, leaning on his cane. 

The moment he stepped outside, he froze.

Jayce turned to face him from the railing, a grin stretching across his face as he spread his strong arms as if to ask: So, what do you think?

The main attraction, the reason they hadn't gone straight home despite the late hour, was happening right behind him. Viktor was rendered speechless, staring at the inky blue sky, where bright, fiery points danced, streaking through the Runeterran atmosphere. They hurtled earthward at incredible speeds or burned out halfway, far beyond the gates of Piltover. The city's fair share of light pollution played no part here. The Academy stood eleven stories tall, easily the highest building around, and the celestial dancers themselves streaked so high above that any stargazers had to basically just step out of their doorsteps to see their performance.

"I had no idea there was supposed to be a meteor shower tonight," Viktor finally whispered, tilting his head back. Keeping it down felt appropriate for the moment. He'd never seen anything like this.

"Good thing I did," Jayce said, extending a hand toward him.

Viktor didn't hesitate to accept it, despite being perfectly capable of crossing the rickety old balcony on his own. His cane rhythmically clapping, he joined Jayce by the wheater-battered railing. The autumn wind, still carrying echoes of summer, smacked their faces.

It made Viktor's eyes water. 

He cleared his throat. "I never realized meteors come in different colors," he remarked, pointing upward. The longer his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the more clearly he could make out individual trails of light.

"That's because of their varying chemical composition," Jayce explained eagerly. "They're rocks with minerals, similar to the ones under our feet."

Of course. That made sense. 

Viktor squinted at the sky, the scientist in him waking up. "Meaning that when that one burns bluish-green, it contains traces of magnesium?"

"And the yellow-orange ones are likely sodium." Jayce nodded, pleased. He sighed, his gaze fixed nostalgically into the distance. It was a bit of a dramatic pose, yet somehow, he was able to make it work, make it look genuine. "As a kid, I always wanted to go search for them after they landed. I didn't understand that without triangulating their location from multiple spots, you'd almost never find where they hit."

"You do this often, then? Climb up here and watch the sky burn?"

"It's not my first meteor rodeo, no… But I usually watch alone. I had people refuse to stay up this late with me."

Viktor couldn't fathom why anyone would turn down such an invitation. He leaned into Jayce for warmth, and his partner automatically draped an arm around his shoulders.

Suddenly, one of the falling fragments illuminated the entire sky so brightly it seemed like daylight for a few moments. It outshone everything else, shrinking as pieces chipped away during its descent.

It fell for about three minutes before it disappeared, leaving darkness once more.

"That must've been the brightest bolide I think I've ever seen," Jayce commented with respect. "I guess you're my lucky charm, Viktor."

"Did you make a wish?" his partner asked instead of reacting to that.

Jayce kept his starry eyes on the sky, smiling. "Actually, yes. You?"

"What if I have?" Viktor retorted, his tone carefully neutral.

He then shifted, exchanging a glance with his cane.

Said cane was kind enough to give him a hint the right moment hadn't come yet. So Viktor stayed silent, letting Jayce's arms and the breaths of autumn envelop him like a special blanket.

Chapter Text

"So. Uh. What shall we do?" While a little nervous, it was an innocent question.

"Well, don't ask me," Viktor shot back, pouting. He huffed. "What could one possibly do during mandatory leave? Aside from protesting against said leave?"

Jayce's partner was obviously still not over the fact the Council had barred them from the lab at Heimerdinger's behest for the entire weekend. It wasn't like they'd messed up; on the contrary, they had done some solid work. But for some reason, people thought that after several sleepless nights, with the two young inventors barely standing during their presentation and rambling nonsense as their sleep-deprived brains gave out, both of them needed rest before diving into the next project.

"We could celebrate," Jayce suggested, resting his hands behind his head. "We have accomplished something, or not?"

He sank deeper into the couch in his apartment, where both of them now sat with massive mugs of tea balanced on their knees. He correctly assumed his partner would have no greater interest in going out or acting unnecessarily cheerful than he did. Once someone finally got Viktor to sit back and relax, it was hard to move him.

As expected, Viktor merely rolled his eyes, snorting at the idea. "That does not align with my idea of repose, Jayce."

"Wow, I didn't know you had one," Jayce deadpanned. "You're always working."

Viktor gave him an unamused look, then nudged him with the tip of his foot. Despite it being his good leg, it couldn't be considered a kick. It was oddly gentle. He was once more wearing the socks Jayce had given him for his birthday months ago.

Seeing the socks, Jayce got overwhelmed with a feeling of possessiveness for a second there. Without warning, he grabbed his partner's foot by the ankle and pulled it onto his lap, running his fingers over it.

Viktor let out an undignified sound. "What–what are you doing? Stop that!"

"Oh, you're ticklish?" Jayce chuckled.

"I have no knowledge of what that even means," his partner insisted.

Jayce slowly released the foot. "Want to play a game? So we're not entirely idle."

"A game?" Viktor hesitated, pulling the reacquired leg to his chest.

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"Truth or Dare?" Jayce teased, keeping his expression stoic.

Viktor sputtered, half surprised, half indignant. "Uh, I am not engaging in something so inappropriate with you."

"It's a kids' game." Jayce laughed in confusion. "What's inappropriate about it?"

Viktor glanced at him, clearly asking if he was being serious. Concluding Jayce was indeed unsuspecting, he sighed, and explained, "Come on, get out of the bubble. A third of the Undercity's teenagers lose their virginity during a game of Truth or Dare. Everyone knows these statistics."

Jayce choked on air, his cheeks heating up. "Wha–what the hell? That's considered normal? That's horrible."

"Perfectly normal." Viktor shrugged, growing a bit awkward. "I should have guessed it's different in Piltover – either that, or you were too sheltered to notice the way your peers played it."

"Um, let's forget it. I was joking anyway," Jayce muttered. He tried not to think about whether Viktor had lost his virginity that way as well. "How about chess? Or do you have unusual rules for that, too?"

"Well, there has always been strip chess..."

"Okay, maybe let's not–" 

"... though that I have never participated in," Viktor finished. He paused before sighing. "Actually, I never learned how to play regular chess."

"No? They don't play chess in the Undercity?" Jayce was taken aback. After all, his partner excelled in so many intellectual areas; Jayce had just assumed chess would be one of them.

"Not really. Games in the Undercity are generally characterized by far more physical contact than anyone would care for." Viktor stared at him from the other end of the couch. "Mutual deflowering is a walk in the park by comparison. Personally, I mostly have experience with the second kind of physical games."

"You mean like beating each other up until the last one standing wins?" Jayce asked softly, fighting the urge to place a comforting hand on Viktor's knee that was just a few inches away.

"It is more of a group matter. A gang piles onto someone who can barely stand to begin with, beats them down. Then leaves them in the dust." Viktor sounded too nonchalant. He avoided meeting his partner's eyes. "There is not really that much fighting back."

"Isn't this… game simply called bullying?"

"It makes no difference what you call it. It is deeply rooted in our culture."

"I see. Got it. So, want to learn chess?"

"Perhaps some other time. If this is meant to be a break, I need at least an hour without thinking at all for it to be worth it."

"I know a good remedy for that." Jayce set his mug aside. "Do you know what game is deeply rooted in Piltover's culture?"

"Superiority complex? No, sorry." Viktor mirrored his movement. "Do I want to know?"

"For sure. It's a very friendly game. I used to play it with my mom when I was little. Want me to demonstrate?"

"Go ahead."

Jayce didn't wait any longer. He slowly crawled on all fours over to his partner, closing the distance between them.

Viktor didn't move, though his eyes were wary, calculating. A soft gasp escaped his lips nonetheless when Jayce leaned forward and wrapped his smaller frame in his arms. It was a warm and soft embrace, especially with the orange fuzzy blanket draped over Jayce's shoulders – the same one Viktor had declared he didn't want when they'd first arrived at the cold apartment.

"What is this game called?" Viktor managed to mumble against his shoulder after a while. He sounded resigned, his fingers fiddling with a corner of the blanket. The initial tension in his muscles had eased, although he made no effort to return the hug.

Jayce didn't mind. He took it as a victory that Viktor hadn't pulled away.

"At home, we called it Wrap," he replied, grinning.

Viktor muttered something near his ear, but it wasn't in a language Jayce understood. Still, he thought he got the gist of it.

They stayed still. Frankly, after settling into a more comfortable position, Jayce had lost track of time.

"And are you certain this is cultural? You are probably the first Piltie I've observed playing this game," Viktor whispered at last.

Jayce felt torn between a desire to be the only person Viktor would ever do this with and a wish there had been others to show him affection. He wanted to voice this yet felt too awkward.

He shrugged. "Maybe it's a Talis family game. But now that I've taught you, you can play it too." With considerable effort, he pulled back a little to see his partner's face. "Would you like to?"

Viktor returned the gaze. Their noses were very close. 

The next moment, he tugged the hideous, fuzzy orange blanket off Jayce's shoulders and claimed it in a single sneaky maneuver.

"The blanket isn't so terrible after all," he said, amicable. "It has a way of growing on you."

Chapter Text

The weeping sky outside the window was simply miserable, and so were they, lights dim, the ambiance in the lab growing heavy with frustration. There wasn't a single scientist without a headache that night.

"Jayce, you made a calculation error here," Viktor casually broke two hours of concentrated silence, pointing at the chalkboard.

"Did I?" Jayce tried to focus his tired eyes. "Oh, right. Thanks." He glanced at his partner's equations. "You've got a mistake here at the end. Small but significant."

"Ah. That is why it won't add up," Viktor grunted. 

He began crossing numbers out, his hand fast and furious. He was weirdly restless today. And about as grumpy as every night full of futile efforts to get to the next step of whatever they were just working on.

As he recalculated, he scowled so intensely his pale face resembled a dried prune. Upon reaching the end, he shook his head at the result and stepped back from the board. "Still wrong." He cursed under his breath, the word sharp and jagged.

Jayce didn't know its precise meaning but had a pretty good idea.

"Maybe we should take a break," he dared to use the taboo phrase. He was exhausted as well.

Viktor redirected his scowl toward him. "I am positive I am on the verge of a breakthrough. If I stop now, I might not be able to pick it up again."

"Viktor, it's almost midnight." Jayce placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture that in itself begged: be reasonable. "You've been here since half past six in the morning and we both know you could teeter on the edge of a breakthrough all night. You're not so far gone yet that you won't remember where you left off. But you could be if you plan to pull three or more all-nighters every week."

Viktor stared at him for a second, in a way so piercing it lent him an effortless aura of danger. Then the moment's madness faded, and his shoulders slumped. He sighed and nodded with his teeth clenched, which hinted at how hard it was for him to admit defeat. There was an almost violent element to the way he tossed the chalk aside.

Jayce didn't dare say more. He was relieved to be successful for once at urging his partner to acknowledge his human limits.

Meanwhile, Viktor, now empty-handed, looked around, inspecting the room. His gaze eventually settled on the window.

"I hate November," he said out of nowhere, passion in his voice hardening his accent. "That damp cold, the rain, the endless gray… I don't know, to me, it reeks of despair."

Jayce hummed in sympathy. 

Then an idea struck him. 

"Wait here," he blurted out.

"I suppose I will have to save my nightly jog for later, then." Viktor's resigned tone was all the dryer against the backdrop of the wet weather outside.

Excited about his spontaneous plan, Jayce rushed to the kitchenette recently built next to the lab. Someone (Councilor Medarda) had noticed the two young scientists spent an unhealthy percentage of their waking hours ignoring basic human needs for the sake of their work. 

There wasn't much food in the small room, yet Jayce wasn't looking for any. 

He found all that he needed.

Viktor snapped out from his doze on the table when a mug filled with something hot landed in front of him. Wait, that unmistakable scent of anise – he'd recognize it anywhere…

He sat up straight, confused; mildly fascinated, even. "Is that… sweetmilk?"

"I hope so. Not sure if I got all the ingredients, though." Jayce towered over him, offering an uncertain smile, holding his own mug. "It's still a pretty miraculous remedy for headaches, really."

Viktor eagerly gave it a try. The sip burning his throat didn't bother him. It seeped through his body like a drug, a liquid dose of energy. The sweetness coated his tongue, the pinch of anise powder giving it that distinct flavor he loved so much. Somehow, it was perfect.

Although he hadn't even realized his partner had noticed him drinking it. He paused to wonder if he'd ever actually had it in the lab.

"How did you know it's my favorite beverage?" The question slipped out before he could think twice. "I never told you."

"You didn't have to." Jayce smiled. "There's always goat's milk in the cupboard, even though you rarely drink coffee and never put it in your tea. And you, well, you smell like anise. Like it runs through your veins."

"Oh." Viktor flushed. "Well, I suppose I should shower more often."

"No!" Jayce cut in quickly, his ears turning pink. "I mean– I don't mind. You smell nice."

That didn't help Viktor's blush. He opted to take another sip instead. And then one more, trying not to read too much into what a person might mean to imply when they comment on someone's personal odor being… pleasant.

Before he knew it, he'd drained the entire mug, unaware of Jayce's eyes on him.

His partner watched him with a goofy smile, one laced with something close to reverence. As if there were a kind of magic in everyday actions, so long as Viktor was the one performing them.

But again, Viktor failed to see that. Or maybe wasn't yet prepared to face this fact.

Regardless, the warmth stayed with him the entire way home through the November chill, making it not that hard to ignore the rain and bleak clouds. Somewhere in the middle of their walk, just before they each turned their separate ways, Jayce's hand briefly slipped into his. Right then, it was suddenly easier to see things for what they truly were. 

And Viktor found himself living through an epiphany. While it wasn't the one he'd been waiting for all day, it was pretty huge nonetheless. 

Apparently, the warmth wasn't just the drink. It was something else, embedded deep inside.

Someone else.

Chapter Text

Yule was basically at the door. Everything was growing more festive by the day, as marked by the decorations hanging in the hallways and the increasing number of indulgent smiles on the faces of rich Piltover citizens. The latter felt even more condescending than the former.

A sane employee would've thought to book time off at work. Although, it was worth noting that after fifteen months of knowing each other, Jayce and Viktor weren't exactly proud keepers of sanity. To be fair, they hadn't been shining examples of rationality before either – apparently, that's what finding a soulmate does to you. Having someone who understands the ideas you toss back and forth like a ball, who gets you every time, who predicts your next thought can't but leave a mark on a person.

Long story short, they were spending the holidays in the lab; together. There wasn't a single decoration to be found, though. Viktor, who predictably showed little interest in Yule, had made sure of that.

Jayce didn't mind. He'd reached that stage of quiet longing where he was simply grateful for any opportunity to hang out and find new ways to tease his partner. His current favorite was fantasizing about the kinds of traditions that were practiced in Zaun during the holiday season, because Viktor refused to give any verbal response (hence feeding his desillusions) to his questions on this topic. He just grumbled and gave grunts, never letting go of his screwdriver and gears. Only whenever Jayce came up with something particularly absurd, his partner would go as far as to roll his eyes, seemingly asking the heavens to send a bolt of lightning to put him out of his misery.

With almost no one working there during Yuletide, it was hard to say who thought of placing subtle sprigs of mistletoe all over the Academy building. Jayce only hoped it wasn't Professor Heimerdinger, that would be a slightly disturbing thought. That aside, an even bigger mystery was why someone would put the mistletoe on the ceiling of the hallway near their lab of all places. Besides, the academics usually had a preference for the more professional holly, and it wasn't a busy corridor. The ceilings were high, difficult to reach. All things considered, it was almost a miracle the two scientists noticed it at all, on their way to the lab one morning.

Jayce caught himself staring at the sprig as though it were an apparition, his mouth ajar. Hell, was he dreaming? This was way too convenient, right?

The hope on his face was so unguarded a blind man would have noticed it. And while Viktor may have had a limp, his eyes were perfectly fine. 

He turned his gaze to the plant, glaring so hard at it the white berries nearly shriveled in fear. He gripped his cane tight. "Eh, I don't care for traditions that have no meaning in the modern world. Which, quite frankly, means all traditions."

Jayce's hopes instantly dropped. "Of course, of course, we don't have to–"

"I don't like meaningless traditions," Viktor repeated slowly, cutting him off. He was calmer than a winter lake. Very professional indeed, which actually showed him in a more genuine light. "However, I must confess… I, uh, like you more than I dislike clichéd customs, Jayce… On second thought, I also like my reputation. So, let's take the making out part inside, shall we?"

Jayce stared at him blankly for a single second. Then he lunged forward, hardly able to believe his luck.

Viktor hadn't expected to be immediately grabbed by the wrist and dragged behind the doors of the lab. He still had to pause and acknowledge the fact that even in his excitement, Jayce still subconsciously accounted for his bad leg. Considerate people was something he was still getting used to. Before he met Jayce, he rarely found himself on the receiving end of such sentiment.

A sudden surge of warmth washed over him (different from the one he'd felt a few weeks ago, which had led to several sleepless nights). This one was steadier, not as intense.

He realized he'd made the right decision for once. Emotional investment in Jayce was a good one. It was deeply satisfying to be right about something outside of academics for a change. Well, technically, they were still on academic grounds, but it wasn't quite the same… In any case, Jayce had earned his trust a long time ago. If he hadn't, Viktor wouldn't have risked entrusting his heart's affairs to a stupid plant under which people were expected to kiss.

And he certainly wouldn't have bothered putting the mistletoe in their hallway… just to spend three nerve-wracking days waiting for his partner to notice it, overthinking and coming up scenarios in which he'd in fact miscalculated horribly. It was an anxiety-inducing concept to think Jayce could've seen the sprig the day it'd been hung and was ignoring it on purpose.

But no; as it turned out, the man was simply walking around in a dream. Seriously, where were his eyes the whole time? 

Huh, that wasn't really a question. Viktor, in fact, had long been aware exactly where a significant portion of Jayce's attention was focused – attention that could objectively be put to much nobler use.

Honestly, though? He wasn't complaining, despite his work-driven nature. He might've valued efficiency, yet some distractions were worth his concentration being disrupted.

Viktor's cane lay on the lab floor, feeling, to put it mildly, neglected. Her beloved owner had tossed her aside, as if she were but a dead pigeon he found in his bed, the moment she'd helped him through the door. Plus, she was convinced he wouldn't have treated an actual pigeon corpse with such carelessness. It wasn't in his nature.

He's changed, she thought, disapproving.

All it took was for that tall, handsome man to fall into his arms and shower every square inch of his face with kisses, whispering sweet phrases that made no sense at all.

But I suppose this isn't about making sense, the cane assessed hesitantly after a moment of reflection. And I assume it isn't about principle, either. This game people play, it has no rules. Its very building blocks are irrational, inexplicable acts.

She decided to be lenient and forgive her master for so rudely leaving her out.

He'll come back to me, he has to. He'll never be able to walk out on me. Or, rather, to walk out at all without me, she told herself smugly. I've been his support system for years, and I'm here to stay. That human he's with now is temporary.

Although… there is a certain finality in the desperate way my man clings to him. And he certainly seems to be trying to swallow his tongue quite intensely...

For the record, Viktor didn't think he and Jayce would last forever at that moment. He simply hoped they would last long enough for him to finally get the chance to use every method conceivable to understand what love was precisely.