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Jayce knows where Viktor is the minute he steps into their sitting room. Jayce also knows what he's dealing with, as he eyes Viktor carefully under the coffee table. It's one they made together, carved from wood and has a lot of space under it for boxes and stuff they don't want to clean up.

Viktor has taken one of the blankets off of the couch and wrapped himself in it, so tight it looks constraining. Amber-gold eyes don't meet Jayce's green-gold as he carefully leans down, groaning and grunting, head pillowed on his arms as he lies a foot away.

"Hi there," he says, quiet and soft. "I see you grabbed a nice blanket. Probably a very soft one, too."

Viktor says nothing, but his eyes flicker to Jayce for a moment.

"I can make food. Are you hungry?"

Viktor's eyes don't move again, but he begins to mutter something under his breath, soft, quiet. No real language, though. It's not Piltovian and it's not Zaunite. They've hypothesized its a combination of multiple languages, different consonant and vocalic patterns mixing, different grammar rules taking hold at once.

Jayce takes it as a no.

"I can make you something to drink?"

Viktor's eyes flicker to Jayce, this time staying.

Jayce smiles, soft, and takes it as a yes.

"I'll go make us coffee. Okay? I'll be right over there, in the kitchen."

Gold eyes stay on him as he stands, slow, painful as even after almost five years he's not used to it. He doesn't know how Viktor did it for thirty. Moving towards the kitchen, he keeps his conversation light, knowing he's likely talking more to himself. Hoping that Viktor, his Viktor, deep inside the ghost haunting their living room, is listening.

"I think we can take it easy today. We did all the important chores already, I chopped up the wood, you fixed the pipes to our shower, we brought in the ripe foods from the garden. I think I can be brave enough later to go and steal some eggs from Gloria, but she might snap at me. The animals like you better, after all."

He fills the metal pot with fresh water and scoops coffee grounds into the space on the bottom. They haggled for it, early on, and Jayce has fixed it up a few times since they got it. Turning the dial, he sets the pot on the stove and waits.

They rarely go into town. Once a month, for the things they cannot grow or make themselves. Jayce has enough money-combined with the savings they broke out of the bank-to pay for it all. They will never work for money again, unless they want extra things they cannot make themselves or feel like dropping a few hundred bills on a fancy meal. Those times are far and few in between, usually only for a nice night on the town for their anniversary. Instead what usually happens is that the mail drops off a package of cash, amongst letters and other things, taken from his mom's bank account. All of what was his went to his moms. She is set for life.

As are they.

"If you're feeling hungry, I can make us breakfast for lunch. You always like having meals for other meals. I won't forget you introducing me to breakfast for dinner. My favorite thing."

Jayce pulls out two mugs, thinks better of it, and exchanges one for a mug with a lid. If Viktor needs to stay under the table, he can do it without getting burned by spilling hot drinks. Three sugars, three spoonful's of cream. Always.

"We can go read out on the porch, too. Or I can read to you, if you'd like. We'd need to put some better clothes on, I think it's going to start to snow by the end of this month, so we do have to start pulling the thicker sweaters out of storage."

Viktor doesn't say anything. Which is a good sign, because sometimes Viktor doesn't know who Jayce is, believes he's twenty and been kidnapped by a large, strange man. Sometimes Viktor does remember him, but's right after the commune. Sometimes Viktor remembers him but as the arrogant boy who thought he could control magic.

Viktor's silence means he's listening.

"I'll pour you some of this, we can just rest, and then we'll see how you feel later, hmm?"

He does as he says, pouring the coffee into the travel mug and mixes it until it's a nice tan color. Jayce pours his own until he's sure the one sugar he has in it has dissolved. He turns the dial off, moves the pot so it's no longer steaming, and moves back around the counter.

Viktor is still under the coffee table, but the blanket isn't so tight, and he looks a little more aware. This time, Viktor's eyes follow him as he walks, and Jayce carefully sets the cup down a few inches away from Viktor's head. He still doesn't grab it, almost afraid to it seems, with the look on his face, but Jayce knows he'll take it before it gets cold.

He always does.

Instead of lying down again, Jayce sits, half cross-legged, and sips at his coffee so Viktor can see him. It's warm, good, familiar. Like the coffee his mom would make, not like the stuff he got used to in Piltover.

"I think I'll sit here for awhile," Jayce says. "Drink my coffee, make my mental notes of what to do today. We still have two boxes of books my mom sent us that we haven't even opened yet, I'm sure there's a few books I could read in one sitting in there. Maybe I'll sketch something, too. Try landscapes, this time, even though I'm better at portraits."

He keeps his eyes away, though he makes sure to flicker them down to watch Viktor. His husband's hand is free from the blanket, slowly moving to the coffee cup. He's muttering again, some words in Piltovian, some in Zaunite, but it's mostly gibberish, still. A quick improvement, though.

"I do think we can scrounge up enough stuff around here to make a good stew. I'll take out some beef to sear and see what kind of broth we have left. It'll be a lot more carrots than anything else, since we need to use them, but hey, they help eyesight, don't they?"

Viktor's eyes meet his, just as his fingertips reach the cup. Hesitant, he stalls, waiting for something. Jayce knows what.

"You can drink the coffee, Viktor. It's alright. I made it for you."

It takes a few minutes for the message to set in, but when it does, Jayce can see the sliver of recognition, the good kind, the kind that remembers that they're married and that everything is okay. He watches as Viktor angles his head up enough to take a long sip of the drink.

"Good, right? We should stock up on that brand over the winter. It's my favorite. I think, once we finish our coffees, we get dressed, have some toast and jam, and go sit out on the porch. We can read, sketch, talk, or just sit there if you want. I can hold you, too."

Viktor sets aside his coffee cup. For a moment, Jayce thinks he'll remove his hand, hide under the blanket, but instead, the scarred skin-textured palm and fingers reach out, slow, shakey.

Jayce takes it in both of his.

"Yeah. We're going to be fine, you and me. I promise you."

Viktor says nothing back, but Jayce can see, deep inside that warm gold, that Viktor believes him.

And that's all he needs.

When Jayce asks him to marry him, one night over equations and pastries, he says yes like its any other typical question. At first, he thinks its a joke because he just solved their issue with the practicalities of applying old arcane to a hexclaw.

He doesn't connect the odd behavior until later.

See, Jayce likes to give Viktor things. A crutch. A leg brace. A shoulder strap to his back brace.

So he didn't think it odd that Jayce would give him other things.

Like a nice pair of dress shoes.

"For a gala I might not even go to? Jayce, you were a councilor for two days-they might not let you in after you put in your resignation."

Jayce just laughs at him.

"For a gala, sure!" He snorts. "Break them in. The right one can even attach to the metal for your brace without pinching it."

It's such a kind detail in the gesture he forgets about the oddness of the gift.

The suit he's gifted is treated just the same.

"You got my size?" Viktor asks him, his fingers gentle over the silk maroon, outlined in teals and warm browns. Talis colors-the real Talis colors. "How?"

"I always have your clothes size. It's the same from when we went to that party a year ago. We always use my tailor for everything. Try it on, we need to see if there's any adjusting to be done."

He follows the request, an odd feeling tugging at his chest.

Somethings off.

The gifts and questions continue.

"What kind of flowers do you like best?"

"Okay, party food; do we do more sweets or more savory?"

"Chicken or steak?"

"What kind of wine do you like best?"

Something in Viktor prevents him from asking why Jayce is asking him all these questions. He gives his opinion to each one, feeling delighted when Jayce grins and adds it to one of his many notebooks. By the time summer hits, the questions have slowed.

"Alright, what about the tenth? Is that a good date?"

Oh. He gets it now. Jayce is turning thirty-five. A big deal in his family. He must be planning a party of some sort. It's not his actual birthday-but given the tenth of July is a Saturday, and the fourth is a Sunday, he's likely planning for the party to be a big deal.

Hence the specification of the date.

"Sounds perfect." Viktor tells him. "Should I wear the suit and shoes?"

Jayce just cackles back.

"Please do," Jayce says. "I did have them made for this."

"Then I shall."

So the thing is-he and Jayce tell each other everything. They don't have secrets.

Jayce knows about his past, about being orphaned right after he got into the Academy, the second-hand uniform with no application, sneaking into lectures and pretending to be from the Freljord because that was more acceptable then being from Zaun.

Jayce knows about him as a little kid, unable to play with the others because he couldn't be active, that he liked playing with toys and making up stories while they liked jumping from cliffs into the water or playing tag.

He knows about his venture into the cave.

Jayce knows about Rio.

So why is Singed here, of all things?

His suit truly is tailor-made, as are his shoes. So he's particularly annoyed that his anxious tugging can't be bought-off as the clothing constricting him.

"Why are you here?" He asks, his voice low. "Why?"

"I am here to follow tradition, as they say," the old doctor says. He looks much different than the last time Viktor saw him, older, bandaged up, skinnier. Balder, he thinks, with a sadistic sort of glee. Good. "You require a family member for this evening, as witness, so I have arrived to assist. The olive branch, if you will."

"I wont," he says, more out of reflex. "Wait. Why do I require a witness?"

Okay so.

This is embarrassing.

Humiliating, even.

Because one: Jayce proposed to him.

Two: He now knows all the questions were actually for wedding planning.

Three: Viktor was not prepared for the emotions of it all.

Four-

"Viktor!" Jayce's hushed, whispered voice fills his ears as Viktor is pulled into a side hallway. A few curious people-two of them being Caitlyn and Violet-pass by with nothing more than a wave. Oh gods. What is he going to do? "Are you ready?"

Viktor takes him all in. Jayce looks even more handsome than usual, which is saying something, because Jayce always looks handsome. Not that Viktor ever thinks of his partner like that. Nope. Definitely does not have those kinds of dreams.

He's in deep greens and silvers, asymmetrical designs. Plum purple is woven in as well. Oh Janna, he's combining their colors-Jayce went into so much detail. How Viktor going to tell him he had no idea Jayce was truly proposing?

"Jayce-I need to tell you-"

Jayce presses a kiss to his lips, gentle, soft, warm.

It's everything Viktor imagined and more.

He can't help but smile as they part.

"Jayce."

"I couldn't help myself," Jayce says. "Sorry."

"Jayce, I- I need to admit something," he starts. "When you asked me-as me for my hand, I didn't-I didn't know you were-look. Jayce-" He breathes, trying to avoid looking in Jayce's eyeline. The larger man's hands fall to his waist, strong and comforting. "I did not know you were asking me for my hand in marriage."

He closes his eyes shut tight, braces for the worst.

Instead, Jayce laughs.

Opening his eyes, he sees his partner, grinning, gap-toothed and still so handsome.

"I know," Jayce tells him, leaning to press another kiss at his cheek. "I figured it out when you told me you thought savory was better. If you were to actually decide a meal plan, I think you'd force everyone to eat sweets until their teeth fell out."

"Huh?"

"Viktor," Jayce brings him in closer, moving one of his hands to his lower back. "Look at me, okay?"

Viktor follows the request.

"I love you."

It's a statement-a comment-that Viktor knows is true the minute it hits his ears.

Jayce never lies.

Not to him.

"I think I've always loved you, even when you arrested me-"

Despite the seriousness of it all, he can't help but grin and correct him.

"Technically Grayson arrested you. I was there on behalf of the dean."

"Shush." The other hand not on his back moves from his hip to brush at his bangs. "I want us to be together, forever. Do you want that too?"

Viktor realizes he doesn't need long to give him an answer.

He thinks of shared coffee under stars, writing notes on napkins in cafes, hopping on Jayce's back so they could run to the lab when one of them had a breakthrough. He thinks of the times he's fallen asleep at a desk and woken up to being laid on the couch. He thinks of the green-gold of Jayce's eyes and how well they match to his orange-gold.

"I do," he says, then takes a leap, craning his neck up to press a kiss to Jayce's chin. "I do, actually."

"Good," Jayce says, then captures him in another kiss. "Then let's go party."

He's reluctant to let him go-they have so much to discuss, like who's apartment they'll be living in (likely Viktor's, given he's on the first floor and has the better bathroom) if they will have pets (Jayce has always wanted a turtle) and well, what to do with the rest of their lives.

But he is still curious about one thing.

"So what is this party for, then?" Viktor asks. "The plans seemed great."

"Late birthday party," Jayce tells him as they turn, keeping one hand on Viktor's side, careful not to knock his cane. "But Mel is a registered officiant. Sky can be your witness, since Singed technically led you here and 'gave you away' already."

"Hmm."

He actually likes the idea.

At least he won't need to get dressed up again.

Maybe there is even cake in his future. Piltover weddings have cake.

"No one knows this was supposed to be a wedding, by the way. I didn't tell anyone, which, thank the gods I figured it out quick. Would have been embarrassing to have Singed walk you down the aisle and you have no idea what it was for."

"I think everyone would have been focused on the almost seven-foot man with half a bandaged face and likely illegal experiment in his pockets, but you are right."

"Aren't I always?"

"Perhaps," Viktor smiles, warm spreading across his chest as Jayce grins down at him. "He is likely around here anyways. He does have some kindness in his heart, somewhere. Nostalgia, possibly. Hiding behind the curtains upstairs."

They reach the double doors, the sounds of an already-going party muffled behind the ornate wood.

"What do you say, Vik?" Jayce asks, leaning into his ear. "Will you marry me?"

This time, Viktor knows the question isn't a silly joke.

"I will," Viktor decides. "I think it is your best idea yet."

They push the doors open together, and walk towards their future.

Viktor's stomach is in knots as he makes his way down to the boardwalk. It's the kind of sick stomach feeling medicine or peppermint tea won't fix, the kind of sick that he has to deal with. Of course, he threw up twice that day, once in the morning when he woke up realizing what the day was, and a second time in the carriage ride over.

At least Benzo and Ekko were helpful. He was glad to ride in the carriage with his adoptive father and brother, rather than ahead with his adoptive uncles who arranged the marriage. He'd rather not be in an arranged marriage at all, but the deal was done.

Of course, he knew the actual wedding wouldn't be for another year. Today was simply the first in-person meeting, where everything was set up to be finalized. Who would get what, who would live where, what the families would receive in turn. Zaun and Piltover were a little outdated like that. He knew other countries did away with arranged marriages.

His biological parents were an arranged marriage, but he knew they loved each other from the first moment they met. They talked about it endlessly, how somehow they wangled fate into their own hands. Silco and Vander were arranged in the sense their families knew they'd get together even without the set-up, having been close for two decades. Benzo never married because he didn't want to.

Viktor had no idea how he would fair.

He knew some of Jayce Talis. A small file's worth. Good looking, strong, tall. Incredibly intelligent. Lived with his widowed mother, took over his father's forge. Self-described idealist, introverted, presented his love through physical touch and giving gifts.

Apparently still agreed to marry Viktor, even with his bad leg. From his cousin's stalking (Powder called him strange, Violet called him bold, Mylo said he was weird, Claggor said he seemed smart) he got some ideas of how the man lived his day-to-day life. Worked a lot in the forge, ate dinner with his mother, went to class.

He didn't seem to have many friends, according to their observations. A girl about Violet's age (he did take note of her blushing when Mylo had brought it up) and that was it.

Either way, he was apparently fine with marrying a Zaunite with a bad leg and chronic asthma. Everything was approved from their end when it came to the match-making. From the marriage, the Talis family and their associates (apparently the Kirammans) would get access to Zaun's art programs, first selection for any patent Viktor created, and dual citizenship.

Viktor's family would get dual citizenship as well, first access to trade supplies and their own trade route, and front of the line applications for the Academy, if any of his family (including his cousins) wanted.

What Viktor and Jayce actually receive is another story. Silco, Vander, and Benzo were the only "heads" of Zaun with children. Viktor was the only one of age. Yet, for some odd reason, that didn't bother Jayce.

As he exits the carriage, Benzo gives him one last long hug, and Ekko clutches to his arm tight as he steps down the ladder. Directly in front of him is the man he is set to marry. It takes him a moment to realize.

The picture does not do his future husband justice.

"Hi," he says, without much else to add. "I am Viktor."

Jayce's smile is warm. He has a gap between his two front teeth. It makes him charming.

"Hi, I'm Jayce."

As Viktor's feet hit the pavement, they both turn to see the people arranging this union-a woman with long, dark hair that matches Jayce's stands with a woman he recognizes as Councilor Kiramman. Her husband stands with them as they shake hands with Vander and Silco, Benzo quietly making his way over.

"I think we should go on a walk," Jayce says, offering his arm. "Get away from their negotiating. I know a spot at the end of the docks that is quiet, away from any spies." The last part is pointed, with a head turn to a girl in the carriage Jayce likely came from. She's cute, with hair that matches the councilor's-likely her daughter. At being spotted, she ducks down, and gasps.

Viktor smiles. In similar fashion, he turns, nodding towards the carriage by the meeting families, where he knows his cousins-and Ekko-have joined.

"Sounds like a wonderful plan to me, I have spies of my own who need to allow us privacy."

Viktor can hear the muffled protests as he takes Jayce's arm in his, his cane patting against the stone.

Once they're a good few feet away, Jayce exhales, running a hand through his hair and looking at Viktor from the sides of his eyes.

"Sorry," he breathes. "I'm a lot more nervous than I thought I'd be. I can't lie-I'm a little...intimidated."

What?

"Intimidated?" Viktor asks, confused. "What-why would you be-"

"Your file was so...impressive. Filters using flowers that can clear miles of infected air? Clean water engines? Self-taught engineer? That's a lot to do, at just twenty-five. You've done so much."

Viktor snorts.

"You're in the top future engineers. You're sponsored by the Kirammans. You single-handedly run a forge. How am I supposed to compare?"

This time, Jayce laughs. It's a musical one, soft, and it makes the butterflies in his stomach float away.

"Perhaps we both need to relax." They reach the edge of the docks, where a bench awaits, facing the ocean as the sun sets. It's a little too romantic for a first date, but since Viktor is currently standing with the man he will likely spend the rest of his life with-such an odd thing to think about-he doesn't actually mind it. "I guess we're both impressive."

They sit, just an inch apart, and Viktor is careful to lean his cane against the armrest.

"I wanted to say-" They both start, simultaneous. Blushing, Viktor looks away, a little taken aback by how well this is actually going, on how much they're actually connecting, and Jayce rubs the back of his neck, his own blush reaching his ears. "You go," Jayce says.

"I am...I am happy," Viktor stutters. "I thought this would be much different."

"Me too."

"I wanted to ask-you mentioned magic being one of your interests. I am curious-"

"I know it seems odd!" Jayce interrupts, instantly defensive. Viktor's eyes widen as Jayce shrinks, rubbing at a leather bracelet he's got wrapped around his wrist. Looking close, he can see a small blue gem. Curious. "But I've seen-with my own eyes-a Mage at work. He saved my mom and I when I was young. I've been-I want to do the same thing. For others. Save people who need it using magic. I know it seems outlandish, strange, but I think it can be done. I know it sounds crazy."

Viktor stops his ranting with a soft hand to Jayce's thigh. It's a leap, given they've only known each other for thirty minutes in person, but he quite likes Jayce so far. Plus, he's read the file. Jayce likes physical touch.

"I do not think you are crazy," he tells Jayce. He smiles, soft, just to show Jayce he's serious. "I think-I think you are right."

This must have been the correct thing to say, because Jayce smiles as well, softening and straightening up as they meet eyelines again. He scoots closer to Viktor, their legs touching. Viktor keeps his hands on Jayce's thigh, and allows Jayce to press in closer.

"I think you can do something. With magic. I've never seen a mage myself-but I have read so much. I think it is honorable you want to make everyone's lives better. Help those in need."

It's quiet for awhile after that. Perhaps Jayce is trying to see if Viktor is telling the truth or simply trying to ease his worries. He hopes Jayce knows it's both.

"Thanks," Jayce says. "I-a lot of people think it's strange. That I am strange."

"Who cares?" Viktor shrugs. "You're smarter than they are. You will do great things, Jayce Talis. I'm sure of it."

Jayce intertwines their hands.

"No," he replies, as he and Viktor lock eyes again, serious but hopeful. "No, we are going to do great things. I think-I think I need you."

Viktor swallows down the last bit of fear.

Something about this seems perfect.

Maybe he shouldn't be so nervous, anymore.

"What do you say, Viktor?" Jayce asks. "Partners?"

Viktor dives in, taking his chance.

He kisses Jayce like he's a teenager again, kissing random boys under bridges and in abandoned buildings just to piss off Benzo, who had once been determined to chase off every boy until he was forty.

Maybe Benzo agreeing to this was a sign, because Jayce just cups the back of his head (gods, he has such big hands) and brings him practically into his lap with the other arm.

When they part, Viktor nods, unable to look away from the shining green-gold.

"Yes," he agrees. "Partners."

They kiss and kiss until their spies-having likely been watching the whole time-start jeering, Ekko and Powder making vomiting sounds, as Violet and the Kiramman girl cackle.

The dual middle fingers he and Jayce give are enough to get the group to laugh, but Viktor no longer cares if anyone sees.

Perhaps his parents were right.

The thing is: neither of them use to be afraid of loud noises.

At least once a day, in the beginning of their partnership, one of them would cause a mini explosion. Either screwing in something wrong or adding too much gunpowder to a prototype. Hell, multiple explosions a day when stabilizing the crystals.

Everything changed after the attack on the council.

Jayce didn't notice it until week four or five of his stay in the ravine, miles below what was left of Piltover and Zaun. He'd sleep, because he was exhausted, and then the nightmares would begin. He would awake, breathless, panting, hearing the boom of Jinx's rocket breaking through the glass and destroying everything.

Sometimes he thinks it was because he was too worried about Viktor to sleep properly enough to dream, back before Viktor woke up and left him in his regrets.

He wondered, he worried, all the way below-if Viktor dreamt and felt the same fears. If he could sleep at all and would wake to the sounds of his life almost ending, of enforcers pulling rubble off him, of Jayce ripping his shirt open and desperately trying to get him to breathe better, of breaking ribs until he felt the horrifying lack of support provided by his weak spine.

Now, he knows, from personal experience, Viktor feels the same.

The rain is fine. Long rainstorms, just the sound of water against their cabin roof. Calming.

The thunder and lightning?

Awful.

Viktor always accepted his touch before. That was something not new, something that tugged at Jayce's heart and wrapped it in warmth. Now, though, it's a lot more. Viktor seeks out his touch as if they are magnetic, as if they are glued. Well, they are two halves of the same whole, two sides of the same coin.

Now, Viktor seeks out his touch at every moment, convenient or non-convenient. Viktor watches him chop wood from the porch, he prefers to shower together, he to sit on Jayce's lap while they read. He loves every bit of it, soaks up every touch like a sponge. Its a comfort. Jayce doesn't know what he'd do without his touch, always there.

Like tonight.

Neither of them sleep when it storms like this, not without some sort of drug. Viktor is better, actually, about accepting a mix into his tea to help him sleep-Jayce prefers more natural methods, and he's more afraid to fall asleep first and Viktor not be there not when he wakes up, not because he left, but because he was never there.

It's a little fucked up.

Anyways, on stormy nights like this neither of them sleep because Jayce simply can't. He's too wound up for a calming tea to really work and he refuses to use up their supply of sleep aid because Viktor needs it more-despite what he claims-and Viktor refuses to fall asleep if Jayce won't.

What he doesn't want to admit is that he's gotten better at handling the sounds of the thunder and the shock of lightning. Viktor feels better if he is able to help-and Viktor is so good at helping-so Jayce pretends he needs the comfort as much as Viktor does.

He's not lying-it still bothers him, it always will-but it's not as bad as it was before.

Which leads them to now: Viktor, wrapped in his lap, curled around Jayce with a heavy blanket over them both. It's early winter, the rainstorms here are cold and get colder until they become snow. So they sit in front of the wood stove and cuddle, comfort each other.

Another crack of thunder startles them both. It's far away, the storm is leaving, but Viktor chatters in his grip, pressing Jayce's head to his chest so he can hear the heartbeat there. That is Jayce's real comfort: the steady beat of life versus the shock of untraceable thunder. The flash of lightning shocks him again.

"It's okay," Viktor murmurs as Jayce wraps his arms to cradle his partner closer. "I have you, Jayce."

He knows why Viktor is afraid. He won't admit it-can't tell Jayce, but it isn't a lie. Viktor is afraid because the last time he heard a sound remotely similar it was Jayce pointing a weapon at him to save the world. Viktor thinks Jayce is afraid for the same reason.

He's not.

Well, that was awful-awful in a way he will never forget-but he doesn't regret it. He doesn't regret it the same way Viktor doesn't regret him doing it. He doesn't regret it because it ended with them here, together.

He presses a kiss to Viktor's collarbone, where the skin is exposed.

"I have you," he says, curling Viktor down to hold him tight. Viktor loves the pressure, loves the touch, seeks it out. "Okay? I have you."

He can't admit to Viktor his real fear.

Viktor is afraid of the sound because it reminds him of his own undoing, of his actions he did while sick. Viktor is afraid of the sound because every boom is a reminder of a life he unknowingly took. For Viktor, the sound of thunder is each action that made him less human, the flash of lightning is the reminder he-some version of him-forced Jayce to do the one thing he didn't want to do.

He cradles Viktor in his lap. He holds him tight, wants their bodies to become one again. Jayce can't tell Viktor why he fears the sound. Why each storm scares him, even though he gets a little less afraid every time.

Another crack of thunder rolls in, but this time, only Jayce shakes. Viktor, like he hoped, is asleep, calmed by Jayce's slow petting and tight hug. He stands, shaking, careful of his knee and carries Viktor to their room. The bed is unmade, but he lays Viktor underneath the comforters, and curls in beside him, so that Viktor's head is against his chest.

This is how Jayce will sleep. He allows Viktor to think he can't, in the morning, if he wakes first, he'll move them back to the couch and pretend they woke up there. If Viktor wakes first, he'll lie and say he fell asleep right after.

Likely, it will take him until the storm fully passes.

Jayce is afraid of the storm because he pictures Viktor's body, laid in rubble, barely alive, near death. Every flash of lightning reminds him of his own killing, of leaving Viktor behind to move to the next stage, because it was what he himself told Jayce to do.

Jayce is not afraid of thunder because of regret.

Jayce is afraid because the storm reminds him of the death of the one person who matters the most.

So he lays, his heart only calming as Viktor smiles in his sleep, his touch against his cheek.

Jayce comforts Viktor by letting him curl around Jayce, feeling his presence, allowing him to believe he's helping. He is-Jayce doesn't lie like that-but that's not the whole truth. No. The reality is this: Viktor comforts Jayce by simply being there with each boom of thunder, by breathing through each flash of lightning.

Then, when the storm finally passes, minutes or hours from now, Jayce will sleep, calmer, his arms wrapped around his soulmate.

For now, though, as the storm slowly moves, he focuses on Viktor's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the tiny sounds he makes.

All to remind himself that Viktor will never again pass, not by someone else's hand, and not by his own.

Never again.

"Jayce, look!"

Just as he follows the point, a quick blur, blue and white, moves a few feet overhead, landing on a branch nearby. It's pretty, mostly sky-colored feathers on the majority of it's body and grey-brown on it's stomach. It's chest is a warm orange-red. Pretty.

Stopping, he lets go of the handles of the chair and leans, eyes scanning the page below as Viktor's pen checks off a little box next to an image of the same exact bird.

"Eastern bluebird, Sialia sialis," Viktor says. "Thrush bird. Eats insects, fruits. They like to feed on the ground and make nests in carved-out places, like inside trees."

Viktor bookmarks the page in his book and closes it shut, dropping it to his lap and moving his hands to the wheels, turning. Jayce easily steps aside as he and Viktor move off the path just enough so they aren't blocking it, watching the bluebird hop around on a branch two feet overhead.

"It's really pretty," Jayce tells him. "Male?"

"Yes. You can always tell, the males are more colorful. They have to show off to the females for mating."

"This one is really bright," he replies. "Is it mating season? Will we see more?"

Viktor hums as he flips his book open again, finger going up and down the page as he looks for the information. Jayce waits patiently, reaching for his water bottle hooked to the back of Viktor's wheelchair, next to their canes. He doesn't need his right now, settled with just his brace, but Viktor needed his chair today.

They brought his cane too though, just incase. Earlier, they enjoyed breakfast out in the field, a picnic worthy of a painting. Fresh pastries from a quiet cafe that only the most senior of residents in this small town enjoy, coffee from home in travel mugs Jayce made out of clay, and berries Viktor grew in their garden.

"No," Viktor finally says. "Not for another two months. Apparently they can have more than one nest a year, interesting!"

Above, the bird whistles, short, then flies away. It blends in with the sky, all blue, no clouds. This little grassyland town is peaceful, quiet. Perfect.

He and Viktor don’t venture out to town much, at least not to socialize. Sure, they’re friendly, kind, greet others, but they prefer mostly solitude. Jayce can’t stand big crowds anymore or having the energy to socialize with people he barely knows-or use up any mental energy to get to know people. 

Viktor is scared of big groups, hides himself away. Jayce doesn’t mind it, not unless Viktor is truly terrified. He likes this life, away from being needed by anyone but each other. They can bird watch, wood carve, sketch and do work commissions to their hearts content, with no council to force them to do anything they don’t want to do.

Without request, Jayce slides his water bottle back into his pack, and helps Viktor to turn back around to the path. For his efforts, Viktor turns, reaching up a hand to drag Jayce's face down into a soft kiss.

He tastes like the coconut chapstick they made at home, coffee that Jayce burnt but Viktor loved anyways, and a twinge of arcane. 

It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more.

"Thank you," he says. "For everything."

"You're welcome." Jayce pecks another kiss before stretching up, hands tight on the handles as they move. "Come on. Lets go see what other birds we can find. I want to see a flamingo."

Viktor's laugh is soft, snorty as they move.

"Jayce, you know they don't live here."

"Fine. Peacock."

"Nope!"

"Duck?"

"What kind? There are more than twenty."

"Barn owl?"

"We have one in our barn right now. You named her."

"Oh yeah. Cardinal? My Mama loves those. I want to send her a sketch, they don't live in Piltover."

Viktor's hand comes back, over his own shoulder, and presses against Jayce's hand on the handle.

"That," he says, softly. "I believe I can help you there. Cardinals do nest in this environment. I very much believe we can find one. Did you bring you sketchbook?"

"Of course."

"Then lets go find you your Cardinal."

Jayce, with not much else to say but I Love You, leans, and presses a long kiss to the top of Viktor's head as he pushes his partner down the smooth, paved path.

He never thought he'd love bird watching this much.

Today is the day.

Today is the day Jayce will finally ask Viktor out.

Viktor Novak, who works in the butterfly conservatory, taking care of the beautiful creatures and the plant life they feed off of and help grow. Viktor Novak, whose accent is thick when he talks passionately about the winged creatures and who is so quiet in the mornings as he sets up his section and prepares for the day. Viktor Novak, who tripped him (on purpose or accidentally, Jayce will never know) when he accidentally knocked over a display on his first day.

Thankfully Viktor had been there to also help him up, brush him off while chastising him to be careful, and didn't tell his supervisor. Jayce was even more grateful for the fact that when his supervisor came looking for him, Viktor lied and said Jayce was assisting him with setting up the taller parts of the display (about Monarch Butterflies) and used his cane to gesture, cutting off any upset his boss could have had.

Ever since then, they make it a point to meet at least once a workday. Either carefully planning to take lunch at the same time, Jayce finding a reason to keep working on the electrical around Viktor's area, or even pretending the structure needs work. But, they haven't gone out with just each other, or seen each other out of work beyond the bi-weekly meetings at a diner or bar.

Jayce will be diving headfirst, today. He can see the chemistry around them, so thick he can touch it. Viktor, unlike anyone else, is funny and sarcastic, but not mean. Viktor is quieter, softer than some, but not delicate. Viktor listens to Jayce talk and talk over sandwiches from the on-site cafe without interrupting him, and shares his own ideas while Jayce listens eagerly, screwing in new support beams to hold more plants.

He also needs to do it today, because his contract ends in September, and since it is his last semester, he doesn't plan on resigning. He got his experience, so now its time to lock in for exams and final textbook studying.

Hopefully with a boyfriend.

Jayce got assigned the water plant section today-his favorite, with giant lily pads and cattails, where the grass is really soft but not squishy. He's not one of the botanists-he's just the maintience man-but Jayce has learned so much over the past few months he's come to appreciate the science immensely. Viktor isn't a botanist either, well, it's one of his degrees, but he never got a chance to learn the second one.

He reflects on the summer while waiting on the bench, the one under the stain glass-like tents, where no one sits because of the beehive at the top of the tree. Jayce was a afraid at first, too, but Viktor had a way with these animals-and he found that just by relaxing and not leaning against the tree or bothering the branches, the bees (bumblebees, to be exact) are even friendly. Jayce likes to hold out a few of the potted flowers he takes from place to place and let them pollinate and float around them.

But this summer, one he dreaded, has become one he'll never forget. Sitting with Viktor by the water in the moonlight during a late shift, trading stories of childhood while Jayce repaired a screen in the conservatory, walking the hidden path (Viktor's shortcut, he likes to call it) that many of the visitors don't even know about, where it winds around the willow tree and ends in the sunflower field.

The botanical gardens are beautiful. Jayce always liked flowers-took all the teasing he got as a kid for a reason-because everything about them is beautiful. He's already gifted his mother lavender from the batch that never grew right and brought home mint for her to use in her tea. Not to mention the amounts of seeds and seedlings he's brought home for her to add to her garden.

Of the two of them, she's almost more upset about his contract ending than he is.

Still, Jayce had to do this today. He has two weeks left, two weeks until this wonderful summer ends, so it has to happen now.

"Jayce." Viktor's voice behind him is soft, warm, like the sun that beats down his neck on a long day. Smiling, Jayce turns, and takes in his friend-who he wants to be so much more with-and adjusts on the bench to make room. Viktor smiles back, moving carefully with his cane-the outdoor one that doesn't sink into the ground, and takes the seat next to him. Viktor is still wearing the blue-green uniform, the one embroidered with his name and a few butterflies on the shirt, and he has remnants of nectar on his cheeks and hands. "There is something-something I'd like to ask you."

As he speaks, he fiddles with a card in his hand, an invitation to an event. It's outlined in green and gold, with blue lettering. Jayce helped with these invites (well, fixed the printer) and he knows exactly what is written on the card. The company that owns the botanical gardens also supports many art galleries and museums., and they host a gala every summer, one in which they like to have employees of the gardens represent them. An exclusive event-but the people who get invites are the people who are thought to be both responsible people and people who are extremely important to the support and growth of the gardens.

Jayce is just a part-time maintenance man. While he knows his job is important (the people here are kind and let him know their appreciation) nothing he does compares to Viktor. Viktor helps hatch butterflies and grow plants for all insects to pollinate and eat from. Viktor makes beautiful things.

It is no wonder he got an invitation.

But there is something else, something that makes Jayce's heart race.

The invites have an option for a plus one.

He smiles at Viktor, memorizes the sunflower gold of his eyes and the hair that is the color of red clay and deep brown earth, with sun-kissed highlights of light daffodil that stream from his temples. There is a blush on his cheeks, peachy-pink, like the hibiscus that grows in their tropical sections, and Jayce knows, deep down, that they are meant to be.

When Viktor wakes up, he knows it's going to be one of those days.

The kind of day where even if he takes his medication, his leg will simply not cooperate with him, nor will his lower back and hips. So, turning in bed, frowning when his left leg ends up tanged in his right, he reaches for his pill container, pours out two pills, and dry-swallows them.

Beside him, Jayce, who'd been awake for some time it seemed, stretched, pulling him into his side when he was sure Viktor was alright to move without choking. Sighing, he rests his head on Jayce's chest, ear over the bigger man's heart, and tries to level his own rate with Jayce's.

"One of those days?" Jayce asks, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, me too. Knee is killing me, woke me up about an hour ago. Took my meds and wrapped it."

"It is likely the cold rain," Viktor replied, trailing his fingers up and down Jayce's arm. "But I think I overdid it yesterday. I lifted a lot more than I should. And you don't need to say-"

"I did tell you," his partner replied, less teasing, more warm. "But I get it. We needed that project done before the weekend. I just wish we were able to spread it out longer, but Peter loved it either way."

Viktor hummed as he angled his head up to meet Jayce's eyes. "Quite the good pay, as well. We can finally afford the new headboard and have enough left over for a new gate on the farm. I am sure if we do not replace it soon, the girls will get out, and we will be playing 'wrangle the animals' for a week."

Laughing, Jayce sat up, helping Viktor to adjust on the pillows. "I'm sure Callie would do a good job of herding them back. It is in her DNA."

"Callie would attempt to herd them all back, but the minute Jolli moos at her even slightly menacing, she's running home, tail between her legs, quite literally."

"She's sensitive!"

"She's insane. No wonder they let us have her for free. Perhaps the farmer knew she'd be the shyest herd dog in existence."

Jayce snorted as he slipped out of bed, reaching for his own brace and slipping it on. Viktor watched, eyes softening, as Jayce tightened the straps and stood, a little unsteady. He felt awful for Jayce, going through what Viktor himself had lived with, even if Jayce had taken it in stride.

Well, he felt more awful that Jayce had gone through it alone, traumatically. At least Viktor was born with his-he never knew what 'normal' was. Jayce knew loss, knew the difference, and even if he was okay with it-Viktor still felt bad.

"You need yours today?" Jayce held up Viktor's brace, the one they'd remade together once they got settled in the town. It was much like his old one, still with the foot and hip support, but Viktor shook his head. They had nothing to do today, not with the rain pouring outside. "You sure?"

"I'll just use the bandages," Viktor replied, reaching into the side table and pulling out a spool of fabric. "Can you-" He was going to say, get my chair, but he didn't need to. Jayce knew, as always, what Viktor needed without asking, but never assumed until he did. It was something he loved about Jayce-but the list of things he loved about Jayce was too long to even count, so it got lost amongst things liked "smells good" and "knows exactly how many sugars I like in a coffee" and "knows exactly where to rub his thumbs so I don't get shoulder pain". Jayce was amazing, and Viktor spent every minute hoping Jayce knew how much Viktor loved him. 

"On it."

Before walking out the door, Jayce smiled at him, leaning to press a kiss into his hair. Viktor hummed, happy, and his eyes followed Jayce out their bedroom door-expanded to accommodate his wheelchair, same as the rest of their doorways-and moved back to his leg.

With all the strength and coordination he could muster with his pain meds barely kicked in, he lifted his leg and slid a pillow under it, keeping it propped as he unspooled the bandages. Practiced, he began to wrap his leg from the thigh down, enough pressure to provide some stability without cutting off blood supply.

As he worked on supporting his leg, there was a sound of soft scratching, a leaping bound off wood, and suddenly a weight behind his back, purring loud. "Oh," he smiled, finishing wrapping the end on his ankle. "Hello, Rio."

The tabby purred as she came around, rubbing against his thigh, and crawled into his lap. "I was wondering where you were."

Following, as always, was Callie, panting heavily as her paws clicked against the floor. She jumped up enough to place her front paws on the bed, huffing until Viktor was able to lean enough to scratch behind her ears. The Collie's tail wagged at the touch, and increased in speed as Rio crawled off Viktor's lap and began rubbing her body and face against Callie's snout.

"I am glad both of you get along," Viktor said, using his arms to push his body towards the side of the bed. Callie moved to accommodate him as he was able to push his left leg over with ease, and moved the right leg-again, using his hands-over as well. Rio leapt off the bed, still purring, and onto the side table, as routine. "I have heard the saying about cats and dogs."

"Yeah, I think they're the exception to the rule," Jayce said, pushing in his wheelchair as Callie moved away. Both animals knew the routine by now-likely due to being raised around them-and waited patiently. Viktor could tell, though, that Callie was eager to get the day started, her front paws tapping back and forth in excitement. "My family's cat, Peter, hated my turtle."

Viktor snorted as Jayce pushed the chair closer, angling it on the side so Viktor could ready himself. He stepped away, just enough to be there for Viktor if he needed physical assistance, but wasn't overbearing. "I think your cat Peter hated everyone though, no? All the stories you've told me..." He trailed off, hands and arms strong as he reached for the armrests. In a steady motion, he pushed himself up, holding most of his weight in his biceps and left leg, and settled into the chair. "I think that cat of yours hated life, Jayce."

He grinned as Jayce rolled his eyes, undoing the breaks of the chair, and allowing Viktor to roll past him. "Peter liked my Ma and that was it. He hated everyone who wasn't her, though I'm sure he would have at least tolerated you, since all animals love you." As if to corroborate that sentence, Rio leapt from her perch and onto Viktor's lap, chirping as she soared through the air. "See? They go where you go."

Viktor shrugged. "The animals like you too, Jayce. It is just that you are very big, so you can be intimidating to small creatures."

"Oh, whatever. I think you just have something special that makes all animals, even the grumpy ones, like you. Remember John's bull? He said it hated everyone, yet when we went to go get Jolli and Jamie, it walked right up to you, mooed, and let you pet it for ten minutes before it walked away."

True.

Viktor pushed into the kitchen, reaching for the coffeepot, and pressed start. Even though they'd stayed up late and hadn't cleaned up, there was one thing neither of them forgot, and it was readying the coffee for the morning. It was something small that made their days easier.

Next to him, Jayce reached for his own cane, a thinner, simple design. His knee must be bothering him, Viktor thought. Jayce didn't typically use a cane daily, only brought it out in emergencies at home and only packed it when they went out for the day. Damn the rain-it made both of them sore in their bones too often.

Plus, they had been hard at work.

"I think we should do breakfast here," Jayce said, reaching for the egg basket and examining one of them in his free hand, the other steady on his support. "It's pretty dark out now-usually means the storms going to be bad all day. I went ahead and sent a message to John and Felix while I was getting your chair-Felix is going to stop by the farm and make sure all the animals are good."

"Oh, that's good," Viktor handed over a mug. "I do not think that I can make it out there today-not until we get that path fully paved or the other chair with the adaptive wheels."

Jayce took the mug with a smile. "Same here. I don't want to take a bad slip out there, and my outdoor cane still needs some tune-ups before I feel good in this type of weather. Felix needs the volunteer hours anyways, so he'll stop by and we can sign him for about two to four, depending on what he needs to do."

"Good."

They fell into comfortable silence as they began prepping breakfast, calm against the raging storm outside. Callie found herself interested with a few toys from her basket, as Rio continued to lay in Viktor's lap, a comforting weight. Though Viktor could still feel the twinges of pain in his spine and leg, and knew from Jayce's tiny expressions as he moved that his partner was feeling worse for wear too, Viktor knew everything would be alright.

They had each other, they knew what the other needed, so everything, as far as Viktor could ever hope for, was perfect.

With Jayce, it always would be.

Jayce had no idea how he'd been so lucky, so blessed. Truly: being given a second chance, after everything? To be teleported to a new place, alive, healthy, with the person he wanted the most wrapped in his arms? He couldn't ask for anything better.

So he didn't. Why would he? Sure, it would have been nice to land in a place at least close to civilization, with his partner in clothes, and at least single a walking support between them. But given he expected to divide and fade into nothingness in the arcane, this was the best result.

Either way, they were now settled, in the tiny one-bed cabin at the edge of town. Jayce traded a good bit of the gold off his armor for it, with the promises he'd help the owners with fixing up their own home. Viktor, wrapped in the remnants of Jayce's coat, and his blanket, must have also added enough sympathy for them to get the home as well.

That was six months ago. Now, the cabin was like brand new-with heated water, a stove where all burners worked, floorboards that didn't squeak.

They even had a small farm going, with the animals the other citizens didn't want, like the brood of chickens who only laid around two or three eggs to the average six or eight. Or their two pigs, who were too small to ever butcher even at their most mature, who'd become perfect composters. A Clydesdale that was too energetic to be given a job, but had calmed under Viktor's touch, and was more than happy to carry them to town.

Their garden grew by each month. Tomatoes and herbs had sprout the fastest, with potatoes not far behind. Jayce was sure the batch of carrots they've planted before the freeze came would turn out well.

So they life they had now was quite different than the one they lived before. No more responsibilities beyond doing their jobs and caring for their home, themselves, each other. Jayce found himself some nights, dreamless, wishing he'd come to his senses sooner. Yet, with Viktor in his arms, alive, breathing, loving him back, he knew everything had worked out the way it should.

With one last swing, Jayce halved the last log, watching as the two pieces fell to the ground. He carefully stuck the axe back in it's usual spot, grabbed both pieces of wood, and dropped them into his basket. Winter was set to come in a fury, and they needed to be prepared.

Internally, he hated the cold. No longer was it just the event that left him with a heavy fear of blizzards and his mother without a few of her fingers, but it reminded him of those nights in the cavern, cold, damp, alone. If he chopped enough wood now, then by the time snow stuck to the ground, he and Viktor would be in the warmth of their home, all fingers intact.

The basket was a little heavy as he moved, careful with his new leg. Turns out, despite Viktor's reversal back to human, and both of them being mostly healthy (Viktor was managing some vocal abilities lately) Jayce's leg was a necessary sacrifice to live. Viktor had helped, finding the doctor willing to do it with very little questions, and they'd both designed the replacement.

He still felt the phantom pain from time to time, but Jayce enjoyed living, so he could deal with the occasional sharp reminders of what he lost.

He dropped the basket on the porch, just in front of the door. He'd stack them later, but for now, he wanted to spend time with his other. Pushing the door open, he grinned, listening for the sounds of his partner. Viktor had given himself the task of fixing up their sink, using the new pipes they traded a day's work for to finally take out the rusted ones.

Jayce undid the lace of his boot, careful to leave it outside the door. He wasn't about to ruin their new flooring. (Though the scuff marks from his leg and Viktor's cane would go ignored.) Inside the kitchen, Viktor sat, legs splayed out as he sorted various screws and nails. When Jayce walked in, Viktor smiled, gave a thumbs up and pointed to the sink.

“All good,” he signed. “Try it.”

"Hey Vik," Jayce said, turning the sink on and beginning to wash his hands, the dirt and sweat that had pooled on his arms going down the drain with the suds. "You finally organizing our stuff?"

Viktor looked up at him, one ruler between his teeth. He dropped the nails in his hands, gesturing a little slow, his fingers dancing along his palm in f-shape letter, shaking both his palms out, pointing to himself and Jayce, then pulling his palms back into his chest, bent at his knuckles.

"Seeing what we have?" Jayce asked, more in confirmation. Viktor nodded yes, ruler still in his mouth, then smiled. "Good. I hear the shop downtown is going to have good deals this weekend. We need a new saw."

Viktor held a thumbs up, sliding the last of the nails into a pouch, into their (admittedly small, for them) tool bag. Before he zipped it back up, he tapped Jayce's leg, the prosthetic, and signed, "need fix?"

"Nah," Jayce told him. "I'm good. We'll need to get some salve, though. We're running out, and your hand looks a little rough."

Viktor looked at his own palm, curious. When they'd landed back in this new dimension, Viktor had been changed back to human, thankfully. However, like Jayce's leg-before the amputation-Viktor's body was rough. His leg, the one he first experimented on, was covered in more deep scaring than the other, and the palm on his left hand had a deep scar trailing across.

It had been hard for Viktor to explain, but Jayce could recall a lot of detail from Viktor's journals, so they theorized that while the arcane implosion took away human illnesses, it didn't take away injuries caused-or infected by-magic. So, no leg for Jayce, and scars that wouldn't fully mend or fade for Viktor.

Such as the scar that trailed down from Viktor's forehead and under his chin. Thinner than the ones on his leg and hand, much cleaner as well, but still a bit noticeable. Not that either of them minded. They loved each other, scars and all. Viktor shrugged, then signed 'feels fine" at Jayce and motioned with a 'please' for Jayce to step aside.

Jayce stepped aside as he dried his hands, opening the underside cabinet back up and sliding the bag in as Viktor handed it to him. Below, Viktor dropped the ruler out of his mouth, wiping it against his pant leg, then tossed it under the sink.

To hell with real organization.

Once the bag was in and the cabinet closed, Jayce dropped a hand to Viktor, then helped him up, keeping him steady as Viktor stretched out. Up, Viktor smiled, leaned, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jayce smiled, bringing his hands, now clean, to Viktor's face, fingers trailing carefully over the faint pinks and purples that shined on his skin.

Viktor grabbed a hand, gentle, and pressed it to his throat.

"Love you," he said, hoarse, but was soft and faint enough for Jayce to know it didn't hurt. Jayce grinned, rubbing his thumbs alongside Viktor's collarbone, and pressed their foreheads together. They stood there, feeling each other's presence for a few minutes, calmed.

When they parted, Jayce could help himself, and he kissed Viktor one last time before letting him go. "You sound good," Jayce said. "Did it hurt?"

Viktor shook his head, reaching for his cane and following as Jayce walked to the living room. With one hand, he finger-spelled scratchy, then signed tea, medicine, before dropping into the couch next to Jayce, the taller pulling a blanket over the both of them. They'd regret not washing first, but Jayce knew they were both exhausted. They could always wash it later.

They rested for a good bit of time, just breathing, half-napping as Jayce massaged up and down Viktor's arms and hands, hoping to release any tension. Viktor's head fell to his shoulder, chopped hair tickling his neck, and Jayce turned, nose fluttering against the locks.

"What do you want for dinner?" Jayce asked, cracking his neck. Viktor poked him-he hated the sound-and Jayce shot him an apologetic smile. Viktor stretched out his arms, releasing them from the blanket.

"Eat out?" Viktor signed. "Rainy day jar full, use some? Cafe outside of town?"

"Penelope's?" Jayce asked. When Viktor nodded, he looked up to the said jar on the counter. It was full-coins, bills, probably a check or two they should take to the bank. "Sounds good to me. We'll need to wash first. You smell bad," he added, pinching his nose pointedly and laughing when Viktor narrowed his eyes and poked him. "Gross."

"You smell bad," he signed. "Wood. Mud. Sweat. You Gross."

"Sorry, sorry!" Jayce laughed with every additional attribute, but gave an apology kiss to Viktor's hands. "I get it." Keeping his mouth against the knuckles, he looked up through his eyelashes, and asked, "join me in the shower?"

When Viktor's annoyed-but amused-face flickered, Jayce stood, tossing off their blanket, and pulled Viktor into his arms, enjoying Viktor's silent laughter as he dashed-one leg heavier than the other against the wood-towards their bathroom.

To him, nothing would ever be better than this.

Not in any other lifetime.

Never.

Viktor loved the farmers market.

It was his favorite thing in this little grassy land town, besides the fact he and Jayce were accepted into the population with no question at all. The market reminded him of early Zaun, of being carried on his mother's and father's back, as they shopped in the small stalls of the lanes.

When he got older those trips died, both due to their increase in workload and the increase in enforcers who would shut down their booths at the first sign of trouble, and he hadn't realized how much he missed it.

This shopping trip wasn't for anything important. They had enough seeds and small plants in their garden for herbs and vegetables, their chickens had been producing enough eggs, and Betsy gave them enough milk to make butter and cheese.

So, this was what Jayce liked to call a 'sweet treat' trip. A trip where they didn't need to buy anything or do anything, but just window ship, booth shop, and get a snack or two. These kind of trips had helped them discover their new favorite places, like a bookstore hidden behind a cafe, and a lunch place that served mini pizzas with different flavors each week. One trip had even helped them uncover a small gem of a place that sold bubbly drinks-ones that weren't alcoholic-and they even delighted in what were called 'floats' where the bubbly drink was served with ice cream. Viktor loved it, Jayce loved it, and the shop encouraged sharing. 

It just so happened that their scheduled 'sweet treat' trip was the same day as the quarterly farmer's market. A sprawling event, not like the typical weekend ones they traveled for herbs and groceries. Instead, the booths reached from the edges of town and back, where shops set up tables to sell new products or promote their stores alongside the smaller business owners. They got an offer to host their own booth, but given they had nothing to sell at the moment (their stock of refurbished items cleaned) they had elected to put information at the main booth. Last quarter, they got almost a hundred customers requesting work after the weekend had gone.

Now, they supposed they'd get more-but this weekend was their break. Nothing to do but relax and shop for things they wanted, not needed. 

One of the first booths was a little pottery sale, bowls, plates, pots. Viktor stopped, shouldering his tote, and picked up a small bowl. It was cute, made from clay and painted in blues and greens. With a start, he jumped, and held up the bowl to Jayce when he realized what shape it was.

"Jayce, look!" He said, holding it in front of his partner's eyes. "A turtle bowl!"

Jayce took it from him, rolling it in his hands. "Cute," he decided. "What would we put it in though? We only have one set of keys, and we put those on a hook."

Oh yes, their key hook, which they'd also found at an antique store. Whenever you hung something, it would lower the mechanism, and a cat would pop out! Jayce had refurbished it to be like new, turning the cat from rusted white to orange. He said it matched their personalities.

A million different uses passed through his mind. Coins, nails and screws, ticket stubs from their trips to the theatre, all other small things. They had a ton of stuff lying around they could put in the small bowl.

"We could use it for things, Jayce!" He argued. "We have many things lying around that could fit in it."

Jayce looked at him from the corners of his eyes. "We could always organize our things?"

Viktor blinked at Jayce.

Jayce blinked back.

His partner turned to the owner, handing over the bowl. "We'll take this." Viktor beamed, wrapping his hand around Jayce's elbow. His partner kissed the side of his head, then leaned, plucking up a teapot. "This one is fun," he said, showing it to Viktor. "Elephant."

It was fun. It was bright blue, molded into the shape of the animal, with the nose acting as the spout and the head as the lid. Two large ears stuck out from the side. It matched none of their dinnerware. It was perfect. "We could use another," Viktor offered. "The one at home is nice, but I think the insides have stained from the fruit teas so much it effects the flavor of other brews."

"I like it too. It's pretty sturdy." Nodding, with an even bigger smile, Jayce handed the teapot over to the owner running the booth. "This one as well."

They watched as the woman running the booth beamed, wrapping the item in newspaper and tying it up gently. She slid her card into one of the folds, then wrapped it in a large cloth, tying up the ends. Jayce handed her a wad of cash.

"Thank you!" She smiled, as she traded the items for the money. "By the way, the cloths I wrapped your things in have many uses. I use them as napkins, I wrap breads in them, I use them to decorate. They're scraps from my quilting."

Viktor carefully placed both at the bottom of his tote, placing his own protective cloth he kept inside over them. He watched as she calculated their change, handing over the rest of the bills, and nodded at them both.

"Do you sell your quilts as well?" Viktor asked. "I quite like your clay, as you can see."

"I only do commission work," she told him. "Clay is whatever comes to my mind at the time. They both watched as she picked up a different card, handwritten and hand-cut, and slid it on the cloth fold of the teapot. "My studio address is on that card, the other has my hours for clay products. I run a shared shop with a few other creators. You can stop by any time and place an order for a design. Takes me two weeks to a month. I also do woven rugs, tapestries, and in the fall and winter I sell the wool knit blankets-I collect from the sheep in the summer and spend some time cleaning it, spinning it, and then crocheting it."

"Sounds like a lot of hard work!" Jayce exclaimed. "I think it's worth it though. If the blankets and quilts are anything like your pottery, they'll be amazing." Jayce pocketed the rest of their money back in his wallet, dropping it in his own bag as he wrapped an arm around Viktor's waist. "We will certainly stop by this week. We're needing a new quilt for the winter. Do you do any design?"

"I try!" She said. "I've done dragons, chevron patterns, swirls, suns and moons, you name it! If I can find the fabric, I can do it!"

"That is wonderful." Viktor stepped aside with Jayce, allowing more people under the tent and into the booth. "Do you have any suggestions from where to look for fabric?"

"Anastasia's on twelfth avenue sells a lot of thicker fabric and has a lot of stock, and Tyler's on tenth street has some stock, but more unique patterns. I suggest you hit both-I work with both of them, so I know their stuff pretty well." She smiled at them, winking, and added, "just tell them June sent you. You'd get a pretty good deal on what you buy."

"Thank you," They said together, as they began making their way down the road again. "We cannot wait!"

"You're welcome!" She waved, as he and Jayce walked down the path again. Jayce leaned into him, smiling, and rubbed his back up and down as they passed multiple soap and candle booths. That was Jayce's no for today-they had three baskets full and did not need any more.

"What kind of quilt were you thinking?" Jayce asked him. "I kind of want something celestial. Stars, planets, the like."

Nothing in their bedroom was celestial, save for the colors. Lots of blues and reds and purples, but their current quilt was a boat pattern, only matching the top pillowcases. Their sheets were deep green, silky. The art on their walls-not made by either of them-was of random things, such as a sunset and some animals. A celestial quilt would clash, easily. 

It was wonderful. 

Viktor hummed in agreement. "It will look nice, I think. Perhaps we can find the perfect fabric for her, since she uses outside sources. Maybe real constellations."

"Won't match anything in our bedroom, though."

Viktor nudged him gently in the ribs, grinning when Jayce peered down at him. "We just bought a turtle bowl and elephant tea pot," he said. "Neither of which match the flower plates we have been using or the marble-green tea cups."

"Yeah," Jayce said, lifting his scarred hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. "You're right."

With that, they continued their walk down the road, passing by and stopping at booth after booth, just enjoying each other's presence. 

What a perfect day, Viktor thought, curling more into Jayce. Just perfect.