Chapter Text
It was still strange to see the lab, the same as it ever was, with Viktor still standing in front of the blackboard.
How long had it been since they'd travelled to this universe? A year? No, not quite yet.
He hadn't been counting. Life had been going by fairly slowly since they’d come here, and Jayce was entirely fine with that. Despite Viktor’s valiant efforts to come up with some revolutionary technology overnight to prevent Jayce being disbarred from the Academy, even a genius like him couldnt invent something so wondrous in a single night. Though, it hadn’t been from lack of trying, that was for sure. Jayce could still picture the feverish look in his eye as he ran his chalk back and forth along the blackboard that first night.
“You’re not seriously thinking of reinventing Hextech, are you?” Jayce leaned against the workbench, crossing his arms as he frowned. “We both know there’s no making it safe—not enough to stop what happened before.”
Viktor didn’t turn. His grip on the chalk tightened, fingers whitening as he scanned the board, occasionally flicking his gaze toward Jayce’s notebook. The black surface was already covered in a chaotic flurry of formulas, each stroke precise yet frantic, as though his thoughts might escape if he didn’t write them down fast enough.
“No,” Viktor replied, his voice clipped. “I wouldn’t dare. Hextech is… a dead end, a trap. But we cannot sit idle, Jayce. In our universe, your breakthrough with Hextech is what saved you from expulsion. Without a comparable innovation tomorrow, the Council will have no choice but to disbar you.”
Jayce nodded, the logic undeniable, but he still shrugged. “Would that really be so bad?”
Viktor stopped mid-stroke, turning to face him with disbelief etched into every line of his sharp features. “Jayce, you cannot mean that. This is your career, your life.”
“I meant what I said before, Vik.” Jayce pushed off the bench, stepping closer. His voice softened. “I thought I wanted to bring magic to the world. But all I really wanted was my partner back.”
Viktor stilled, the intensity in his amber gaze softening as Jayce reached out. The notebook slipped from Viktor’s grasp as Jayce replaced it with his hand, circling his thumb over the cool, calloused skin. Gently, Jayce lifted Viktor’s palm to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
Viktor exhaled sharply, a quiet gasp betraying his composure.
“You were always the one meant for this,” Jayce murmured, voice low. “I want to see you succeed—to bring your brilliance to the world.”
“But I want to do that with you.” Viktor’s lips twitched into a pout, an expression so unbearably cute Jayce had to physically restrain himself from kissing Viktor. He sounded almost petulant, like a child denied dessert. “We work best together, Jayce. As partners.”
“We’ll still be partners,” Jayce promised, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “A different kind, maybe.”
Viktor scoffed, turning back to the blackboard, but his lips betrayed him with the faintest of smiles. “Jayce, I am not marrying you.”
Feigning offense, Jayce gasped dramatically. “What? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?”
“Well, for one, you haven’t taken me on a single date,” Viktor retorted, the edges of his smirk sharpening. “How can I judge if you’re husband material without proper evidence?”
Jayce chuckled. “Fair point. But ten years of working side by side should count for something, right?”
“Unfortunately, it counts for everything,” Viktor sighed, though there was a lightness in his voice. “Ask me again—properly, this time—and I might say yes.”
“Might?”
“Might,” Viktor confirmed with an arched brow. “I’m undecided if I’m the marrying kind. But you’ve talked me into riskier things before.”
Jayce grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
He then picked up his notebook again when Viktor gestured for it.
He didn't need to ask to know what page Viktor wanted to read. “What is your plan exactly?”
“I'm thinking, if we could take your theories and remove the actual arcane element, there's a potential for a new kind of energy formation. A static, man-made one. Not magic.” Viktor reached up to start jotting down notes.
Jayce followed the equations, eyes going over Viktor's work. Their new mental connection helped him figure out his partner's line of thinking even quicker than he usually would, and suddenly he too was reaching for a piece of chalk.
“We know Hextech only stabilises at high frequencies,” he said, scribbling the beginnings of an equation under Viktor's. “So if we could reverse it almost, reduce that frequency to create the raw power –”
“–like a charge, but we'd need something to store it in, so it doesn't explode. A generator of sorts. But how would we channel –”
“–Viktor you once theorised the existence of positive and negative wild runes, right? Well if we take magic out of the equation, and we operate with these power charges, could we reconfigure that idea into positive and negative charges?”
“Which we could potentially use to create energy, a liveforce similar to Hextech. We'd need something to conduct the power, but it's possible. It's very possible.”
“Then that's it then!”
“We'll need equipment though, time and preparation. Which we don't have.”
“It's okay Vik.”
“It is not.” Viktor went back to the board, furiously writing down his half-baked ideas.
But Jayce knew he could never finish by morning.
Viktor had worked tirelessly through the night, consumed by the need to find an alternative to Hextech—something that could sway the Council and save Jayce from expulsion. The relentless drive was written in every furrow of his brow, every frantic movement of chalk against slate. Viktor wasn’t just trying to save Jayce’s career; he was trying to save them both.
Jayce knew it, and the thought tightened his chest. If he was banished, Viktor would follow. Viktor would leave the Academy, the undercity, the chance to make a difference—all because of him. Jayce couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t let Viktor tether his future to someone destined to fall.
In the end, the theories Viktor had painstakingly sketched weren’t enough to preserve Jayce’s standing as a scientist. The Council had cast their vote, and Jayce had been removed. But Viktor’s work had caught Heimerdinger’s attention. Those half-formed ideas, so brimming with potential, had secured Viktor something far greater than sympathy: a research fund, a lab of his own.
The outcome was… bittersweet. Viktor had achieved the recognition he deserved, his own space to create, free from the confines of the Council’s expectations. But he’d done it without Jayce. Settling into his new role had been a solitary affair, but Jayce had been so proud of him.
Returning to his family’s trade had given Jayce something to anchor himself to—a forge, the steady rhythm of hammer on steel, the heat and glow of molten metal. It was simple work, honest work, and he found an unexpected peace in it.
Viktor needed tools for his experiments, intricate and precise instruments that were impossible to source. Jayce, with his craftsman’s skill and familiarity with Viktor’s needs, had taken it upon himself to provide them.
So they formed a new partnership. And if Jayce spent nights in the labx working on equations and theories with Viktor, nobody really needed to know that.
Viktor was deep in the throes of an experiment when Jayce stepped into the lab. The room hummed with energy, the faint scent of ozone prickling at his senses. Diagrams and equations sprawled across the blackboards, evidence of hours—perhaps days—of ceaseless work. Static buzzed in the air, raising the hairs on Jayce’s arms as he approached.
Viktor stood at the heart of the storm, his hair wild and unruly, caught in the artificial wind generated by the spinning apparatus before him. Blue light pulsed and flickered from the machine, casting sharp shadows across his face. Sparks of lightning leapt between the whirring metal prongs, the crackling sound a sharp counterpoint to the low hum of the device.
Jayce placed the steaming cup of coffee he’d brought on the table, his gaze fixed on the strange machine. He took in Viktor’s figure—his face obscured by protective goggles, his slender hands encased in thick gloves—and couldn’t help but feel a flicker of unease.
The setup bore an uncomfortable resemblance to Hextech. Yet, he knew Viktor shared his conviction; they’d both agreed to leave that behind. So what was this?
“V… what is this?” Jayce asked, his voice low as he stepped closer.
Viktor glanced up, the light from the apparatus catching the edge of his goggles. A small, almost bashful smile tugged at his lips.
“Ah, Jayce. It’s good to see you, lásko .” His gaze dropped briefly to the cup. “You brought coffee?”
“I did. And don’t worry, I drowned it in sugar and cream for you,” Jayce teased, his tone warm.
“Thank you, Jayce.” Viktor turned back to the machine, but the faint smile remained. “You still remember how I take my coffee.”
Jayce chuckled, stepping behind him. “Wouldn’t be much of a husband if I forgot how you like your sugar water.” He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the nape of Viktor’s neck as he passed.
The reaction was instant. Viktor shivered under his touch, the tension in his shoulders softening for just a moment. In the eerie blue glow, Jayce caught the faint flush spreading across Viktor’s pale cheeks.
“ Boyfriend ,” Viktor corrected softly, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re my boyfriend, Jayce. You still haven’t proposed properly.”
Jayce grinned, unabashedly cheeky. “Husband soon enough. You’ll see,” he promised, his tone both teasing and sincere. He gestured toward the device. “Now, what’s all this? Did you make a breakthrough?”
“I believe so,” Viktor replied, his voice alight with quiet excitement. He flipped a switch, and the spinning prongs slowed, the arcs of lightning fading into silence. The room felt suddenly still, the tension of the experiment dissipating like a held breath released.
“Observe,” Viktor said, reaching for a small metal cog on the table. His movements were measured, precise. He tossed the cog into the apparatus, and for a moment, the room held its breath again.
The machine roared to life, lightning sparking in chaotic bursts around the cog. Jayce’s eyes widened as the display unfolded before him.
“You… created lightning?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and wonder.
“Better.” Viktor’s voice brimmed with restrained excitement, the edge of his enthusiasm barely tempered by his meticulous demeanor. He twisted a length of copper wire with care, connecting his apparatus to a dormant piece of mechanical equipment on the table.
As soon as the wire was secured, the machine hummed to life. The sound was gentle but unmistakable, a rhythmic pulse of power coursing through its frame. Jayce’s gaze snapped to the chemtech tubes, which sat entirely empty.
“You’ve powered it,” Jayce breathed, awe coloring his voice. “Without chemtech.”
“I’m calling it electricity.” Viktor pushed his goggles up to rest on his forehead, revealing eyes alight with fervor. The wild gleam in them made Jayce’s chest ache in the best way. “Pure cosmic energy, contained in a spark. It’s lightning in a bottle. Think of it, Jayce—clean power without the hazards of chemtrails, chemical burns, or toxic byproducts.”
Jayce’s gaze flicked between the apparatus and the machine, his mind racing. “That’s… incredible . If we can refine this—if we can mass produce it—chemtech could be completely obsolete.”
Viktor nodded, removing his gloves with a sharp tug. “The undercity won’t be poisoned with toxic waste just to generate power. We could replace the drainage systems from the chem refineries, finally clean the water supply…”
“You’re a genius .” Jayce leaned in, pressing a firm, affectionate kiss to Viktor’s forehead. His voice was thick with pride. “You’re a genius, Vik.”
Predictably, Viktor flushed that familiar, beautiful shade of red, muttering a half-hearted grumble as he shoved a hand against Jayce’s chest. “It’s not done yet. I can’t replicate the results outside the lab. Don’t celebrate too soon, hlupáčku .”
Jayce grinned, unbothered by Viktor’s deflection. “I will always celebrate your discoveries, no matter how small.” He peered closer at the apparatus, his mind alight with possibilities. “You’ve got a brilliant mind, Viktor, and you deserve all the praise for it. Just think of what we can do with this—an entirely new branch of science! Machines powered by electricity instead of chemtech. Accessible to everyone. We could build ventilators to properly filter the undercity’s air, purifiers to scrub out the toxins, sustainable light and heat sources. Even medical equipment, industrial machines, and transport systems that won’t harm the people who use them. This is revolutionary, Viktor. It’s Hextech without the danger of unstable arcane energy.”
Jayce gathered him close, cradling his face in his hands like a precious jewel. “You’ve invented the future—my incredible Viktor.”
Before he could kiss him, Viktor pulled away.
“Don’t. Stop.” Viktor’s voice was quiet, a thread of something raw and fragile woven into it.
He eased himself into a chair, his movements careful as he absently rubbed his knee. His gaze drifted into the middle distance, unfocused.
“I haven’t done anything praiseworthy yet. This is just one spark, Jayce. We’re still so far from saving the undercity.”
The subdued tone in Viktor’s voice tugged at Jayce’s heart, the weight of it settling heavy in his chest. He knelt in front of Viktor, the hardwood cool beneath his knees, and reached out to take Viktor’s hand.
“Hey,” Jayce said softly, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over Viktor’s fingers. “Look at me.”
Viktor refused to look.
“Viktor,” he murmured, reaching for his hands. Viktor pulled away.
Jayce sighed. “Lasko.” he tried.
Viktor's lips tugged upwards. “ Lásko .” He corrected quietly. “Your accent is terrible.”
Jayce was finally rewarded with Viktor's hands. He laced their fingers together. “You could always teach me,”
Viktor huffed softly. “Sounds insufferable. You have no gift for phonetics. Besides, I prefer your terrible accent. It's cute.”
“Well, at least I have that going for me.” Jayce squeezed his hands. “Will you let me praise you now?”
Viktor huffed again, glancing away. Jayce took it as a sign to continue.
“You have just invented a new source of power.” He said softly. “Clean, reusable, safe. It's a step towards saving lives, Vik. You've been working non-stop for the last however many months – this is an achievement worth celebrating.”
“It's not perfect yet.” Viktor mumbled. “It's not exactly safe to use, and I don't know how to reproduce it, or how to properly harness it. It's not enough to –”
“ Viktor .” Jayce squeezed his hands. Nothing Viktor did, short of solving the undercity's every problem, would ever be good enough for him. “We've talked about this. One step at a time, things don't need to be perfect yet. Things don't need to ever be perfect to do good . You, the undercity, you're not –”
“I know, I know…” Viktor closed his eyes, sighing. “There is beauty in imperfections. They make me who I am.”
“Exactly as I said. Don't forget that.” Jayce murmured. “This energy source isn't perfect, but it's a start of something good. One thing at a time, V. One problem at a time.”
“One problem at a time.” Viktor whispered. “I'm sorry, Jayce. I haven't been pleasant company the past few months, I know.”
“It's okay.” Jayce said softly. Easily forgiving him, as always, for everything.
He had endless forgiveness for Viktor that Viktor would never understand or think he deserves. But Jayce gave it freely anyway.
“I've been so focussed on finding another solution.” Viktor mumbled. “I dont want to take shortcuts this time, I need to do this right. Safe. I don't want to ever hurt anyone again.”
“You won't. I'm here.” Jayce promised. “We'll make sure we don't get too carried away this time, we'll follow procedures and take our time to fix things. We have time now, Viktor, we have time.”
Viktor sighed, staring down at their hands. Jayce stroked the back of his hand with his thumb and waited. He knew Viktor’s silences, the way his mind raced and tangled with thoughts he rarely voiced. It didn’t bother him; he’d wait forever if it meant giving Viktor the space he needed.
After a long moment, Viktor spoke, his voice soft and raw. “You really believe that, don’t you? That we have time.”
Jayce nodded. “I do. We’re not the same desperate boys we were before. We’re smarter now, more careful. And we’ve got each other. That’s enough to keep moving forward, one step at a time.”
Viktor’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, fleeting but real. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not simple,” Jayce admitted, his grin widening. “But it’s easier with you.”
Viktor huffed softly, shaking his head. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it.”
“Unfortunately.” Viktor’s tone was dry, but the faintest hint of warmth lingered beneath the word. He glanced at their intertwined hands, as though finding strength in the connection. “Alright, Jayce. One step at a time. We’ll see where this spark takes us.”
“That’s the spirit.” Jayce’s smile turned softer, his voice steady. “And if you ever doubt yourself again, just remember—you’ve already changed the world once. You can do it again, Vik. I believe in you.”
Viktor leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re relentless, you know that?”
“Relentlessly yours .” Jayce’s cheeky reply earned him a faint chuckle, and he took it as a victory.
As the hum of the apparatus faded into the background, Viktor relaxed in his chair, his hand still held tightly in Jayce’s.
“How are you feeling?” He asked. “Any…complications?”
“I'm not coughing up blood yet, if that's what you're asking.” Viktor said. “No, it's not bad yet. My condition is…steady, for now.”
“Have you needed your back brace yet?”
Viktor shook his head. “No, I didn't get that until a couple years after we met. My spine is okay for now.”
“How long did it take for it to get really bad before? Do you remember?”
Viktor looked thoughtful. He was twenty-five when he met Jayce, his condition rapidly declined and became terminal at about thirty-two.
“Seven years.” He said softly. A shadow fell over his face, his brow furrowed. “I should have at least seven years before the Grey destroys my lungs.”
He took a breath, and Jayce squeezed his hands tightly. Seven years. Surely they could come up with something by then, not that they had any idea what they were searching for. They weren't biochemists. But Jayce wouldn't do nothing and just sit on his hands while he waited for Viktor's health to decline.
“We have time.” He reiterated, trying to reassure him, thumbs stroking patterns across Viktor's fingers. “Time enough to find a cure.”
“Time…” Viktor murmured, his voice drifting away, as if lost to his thoughts. Time was never something on his side. Time was never something he had enough of. “Jayce, I – I think…”
Viktor paused, uncertain of what he wanted to say. He just squeezed Jayce's hands.
“No, no. I'm fine.” He dismissed, ignoring the curious way Jayce looked at him. “I should get back to work.”
Jayce nodded, knowing work was what Viktor needed right now.
“Explain to me this electricity then.” He offered, standing once more.
Viktor's eyes flashed, and he eagerly got up again, ignoring his cane completely as he directed Jayce’s attention to his apparatus.
“Two fundamental components make up the energy.” He said. “The first is the charge, which comes in two types: positive and negative. I've discovered that opposite charges attract, and like charges repel.”
“So our theory was right.” Jayce nodded, looking at the diagrams on the blackboard. “And the second thing?”
“The flow. The movement of negatively charged energy creates the flow of electricity. In this way, we can form the direction of the current with the suitable conducting agent and line. I've discovered copper is a good conductor, the problem is the system gets overloaded too quickly.”
“So you need a way of controlling the flow of energy.” Jayce hummed. “Without a stopper it's like stormwater in a drain pipe,”
“Exactly. In its state right now it's unpredictable and dangerous. I've set fire to a few things already. And I can only make the electricity flow in a direct current at the moment, not back and forth.”
“So you need something to resist the energy flow, materials that do the opposite of the conductor, to slow it down.” Jayce mused. “From the numbers it looks like the negative charges are loosely packed inside the conductor and make it flow faster. Maybe an insulator, like rubber or glass, would act as resistance?”
Viktor rubbed his chin, writing that down. “An inspired idea, Jayce. I'll add it to the list of materials to experiment with.”
Viktor stifled a yawn, his fingers absently rubbing at his tired eyes. He reached for the coffee Jayce had brought, the warmth of the cup a small comfort.
“When was the last time you slept, Vik?” Jayce asked, his voice low and tinged with concern.
Viktor waved him off lazily, muttering, “I haven’t counted. I’m not a numbers guy.”
Jayce raised a brow, his dry tone cutting through Viktor’s deflection. “You’re an engineer, V. Your whole job is numbers.”
“Eh, details.” Viktor muttered, waving a dismissive hand. “That’s boring counting. These are interesting numbers.”
Jayce let out a long sigh, stepping closer and gently prying the coffee cup from Viktor’s grasp. Before Viktor could protest, Jayce wrapped his arms firmly around him, pinning the stubborn man’s arms to his sides.
“You’re impossible.” Viktor huffed, glaring half-heartedly up at him.
“You’ve been running on fumes since we got here,” Jayce said softly, his breath warm against Viktor’s temple. “Heimerdinger isn’t expecting you to pull off a miracle overnight. You’re being too hard on yourself again. What did we say about pacing?”
Viktor let out a heavy sigh, his head tipping forward as if the weight of his exhaustion was finally catching up to him. He didn’t reply, but the slump in his shoulders told Jayce everything he needed to know.
“Tell me honestly,” Jayce pressed, his voice a gentle nudge. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
Viktor hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “An hour. Maybe two.”
Jayce’s frown deepened, and he made a swift decision. Releasing Viktor, he turned to grab his jacket.
“That’s it. I’m taking you home.”
“What?” Viktor straightened up, his exhaustion momentarily overridden by indignation. “Jayce—”
“To my place,” Jayce interrupted, shrugging into his coat with finality. “It’s closer, and no buts, Viktor. I want you in bed within the hour.”
For a moment, Viktor said nothing, his sharp mind clearly working through several snarky responses. Then, a slow, devilish smirk spread across his face. “Oh, well, if that’s what you want, Jayce, all you had to do was ask.”
Jayce froze, the tips of his ears turning scarlet. He turned to glare at Viktor, though the effect was ruined by the blush creeping down his neck. “Not like that , Vik, and you know it.”
“I wouldn’t complain,” Viktor said casually, his smirk widening as he leaned back in his chair. “In fact, I think I’d rather enjoy it.”
Jayce groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why do I put up with you?”
“Because you love me,” Viktor quipped, his tone far too smug for someone running on no sleep.
Jayce sighed, defeated. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, stubborn genius. Let’s get you some rest before you collapse on me.”
Viktor stood slowly, his movements heavy with fatigue but his smirk still intact. “Fine. But only because I know you won’t stop nagging otherwise.”
Jayce shook his head, unable to keep the fond smile off his face as he guided Viktor out of the lab. For all his grumbling, Viktor leaned into him just slightly, and Jayce pretended not to notice.
The walk to Jayce’s apartment was quiet, Viktor leaning heavily on his cane as they made their way through the dimly lit streets. Jayce stayed close, his hand hovering near Viktor’s back, ready to steady him if he stumbled.
By the time they reached the door, Viktor’s eyelids were drooping, and his steps had slowed to a sluggish shuffle. Jayce unlocked the door quickly, nudging it open with his shoulder and guiding Viktor inside. The warm, familiar space smelled faintly of wood polish and the faint scent of metal—a comforting mix of Jayce’s forge and his personal touches.
“Sit,” Jayce instructed gently, gesturing to the couch as he hung up their coats.
Viktor didn’t argue (though Jayce caught a few grumbles in Zaunite under his breath) sinking into the cushions with a groan of relief. He leaned back, his cane clattering softly to the floor, and rubbed at his aching leg absentmindedly. Jayce watched him for a moment, the fondness in his gaze almost overwhelming. Viktor’s stubbornness always tugged at his heart, but it was moments like this—when he let his guard down—that Jayce felt closest to him.
“Stay there,” Jayce murmured before disappearing into the bedroom.
When he returned, he was carrying a pair of sweatpants and one of his old, oversized t-shirts.
“Here,” he said, kneeling in front of Viktor. “You can’t sleep in that.” He gestured at Viktor’s rumpled shirt and trousers.
Viktor raised a brow, but his tiredness had stripped him of his usual sharp retorts. “You want me to wear that ?” he asked, eyeing the shirt with faint amusement.
“Trust me, it’s comfortable,” Jayce replied, grinning. “And it smells like me, so you can’t complain.”
“And you assume I wish to smell like you, why?” Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Are you a dog, marking your territory?”
“He says, as if he doesn't bury his head in my neck to breathe every time I'm next to him.” Jayce teased.
Viktor rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were inflamed.
“Fine, fine. Whatever you want, puppy. You'll have to help me though.”
Jayce worked carefully, unbuttoning Viktor’s shirt and sliding it off his shoulders before replacing it with the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt. Viktor’s sharp collarbones and lean frame disappeared beneath the loose material, the hem hanging low enough to brush his thighs.
“You’re swimming in it,” Jayce teased, tugging the shirt into place.
“It’s like wearing a tent,” Viktor muttered, though his lips quirked into a faint smile. “You're enjoying this entirely too much, Jayce.”
“I certainly am.” Jayce grinned, leaning down to press his lips irreverently against the collarbone peeking out from the neckline of the shirt, tantalising in its exposure.
Viktor sucked in a sharp breath. Jayce chuckled softly. For all Viktor’s boldness in talk, he reacted to the smallest of things. Perhaps it was the kind of effect Jayce had on him, or maybe his skin was extra sensitive. Jayce liked to think it was because of him.
Jayce helped him to his feet, steadying him as they made their way to the bedroom. The bed was already turned down, and Jayce guided Viktor to sit on the edge.
He rested his hand on Viktor’s leg brace. “May I?”
Viktor nodded, looking at him with such fondness it threatened to melt him.
Jayce's touch was gentle as his fingers brushed over the worn metal of Viktor's leg brace. He handled it with care, as though it were a part of Viktor himself—and in many ways, it was. Viktor watched him quietly, his sharp eyes softened by exhaustion and affection, and Jayce felt his heart ache at the trust in that gaze.
Slowly, he unbuckled the straps, his movements deliberate, giving Viktor time to stop him if he changed his mind. The brace came free with a faint creak, and Jayce set it down beside the bed with the same care he’d use for something precious.
“Better?” he asked softly, his hand resting lightly on Viktor’s knee.
Viktor let out a low hum of relief, leaning back against the pillows. “Much,” he murmured. “Thank you, Jayce.”
Jayce smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Anytime.” He shifted to help Viktor out of his trousers, and into the sweatpants. “You know, you don’t have to do everything alone. You can lean on me sometimes.”
Viktor scoffed, though it lacked his usual bite. “I’ve been leaning on you for years, Jayce.”
Jayce chuckled, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Viktor’s temple. “Good. Just don’t stop now.”
He arranged the pillows to help support Viktor's back, as well as his bad leg.
“Lie down,” Jayce urged softly. “I’ll be right back.”
By the time Jayce returned, having quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Viktor was already half-asleep, his head sinking into the pillow. Jayce climbed into bed beside him, pulling the blankets over both of them and wrapping an arm around Viktor’s waist.
Viktor sighed, sinking deeper into the mattress as his body relaxed further. His exhaustion was palpable now, his eyelids fluttering shut even as he tried to keep them open to watch Jayce.
Jayce slid closer, pulling Viktor close so his back was against Jayce’s chest. Viktor’s body still felt a little too thin beneath his palm, but it was warm, alive, his .
“You’re too good at this,” Viktor murmured sleepily, his voice soft and slurred.
“At what?” Jayce asked, resting his chin on Viktor’s shoulder.
“Taking care of me,” Viktor whispered, his hand covering Jayce’s where it rested against him. “I shouldn't…like it so much.”
Jayce’s chest tightened. He pressed another kiss to Viktor’s head, his lips lingering against the soft strands of hair.
“Yes, you should. You're allowed to like being taken care of by someone, Vik.” he replied, his voice quiet. “And it’ll always be me, V.”
Viktor hummed softly, shifting to press his back more firmly against Jayce’s chest. “You’re warm,” he murmured, his voice muffled by sleep.
“And you’re freezing,” Jayce replied, gently rubbing his hand along Viktor’s arm.
“Mm. You’ll fix that,” Viktor whispered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Jayce chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Viktor’s head. “Sleep, V. I’ve got you.”
Viktor’s breathing evened out quickly, his body relaxing fully against Jayce’s. Jayce stayed awake a little longer, his heart full as he held Viktor close.