Chapter Text
The Scenting Ritual.
Now that you are in Piltover, you must learn how to properly court an omega, Jayce. The first step is the Scenting Ritual.
The first time you do this you must do this in private. When the omega you wish to claim seems distressed, you can approach them gently and offer them light contact and touch. A kiss on the face or a hug is best. If you two are compatible, Your scents will sweeten and may mix together. You might feel dreamy or happy.
Do you understand?
Yes Mrs Kiramman
Viktor does not know anything about how Alphas court Omegas in Piltover.
Well, he knew a few things.
He’d overheard enough from his fellow students to discern that courting, and therefore, mating was of more importance than it was back home.
He knew the citizens prided themselves on their rituals being more ‘civilised’ than the way it was done in the undercity. He’d heard them discuss it many times, in their hushed, snooty voices as they declared themselves so much more proper, that their omegas were not as ‘shameless’ and ‘debased’ as those from the lower levels.
But he had not stuck around to hear exactly what their customs were.
The omega had thought it stupid, for such a fuss to be made over something that, in Zaun, was so simple.
If an omega liked an alpha, then they would run. If the alpha was worth their salt, then they would catch them and be deemed worthy of becoming their mate.
He’d never liked that ritual much either, if only because he knew he’d never be able to partake. As a child, the others had mocked him for it. Spinning tales of how he’d die alone, sad unloved all because he had a lame leg.
Not that Viktor cared all that much. In truth, there was very little love in his heart for alphas. They were too brash, haughty and completely unaware of how irritating their scents were. Viktor, as a rule, found most alpha scents irritating.
They were harsh and overbearing and he found it frustrating, the way omegas and betas were expected to suppress their scents yet alphas could flaunt theirs everywhere, even wear enhancing perfumes so that everyone would be aware of their alpha status.
The omega knew that, logically, these behaviours were a product of the society they were raised in. Alphas were not born inherently cruel or arrogant, they were traits developed in part by a society that had told them, from birth, that they were better than everyone else. Natural-born leaders of superior intellect.
Raised to think of themselves as worthier for both their gender and the place they were born. It was perhaps a deadlier mix than methane and ammonia.
It was hard to pity them. After all, such attitudes did not exist in Zaun. There was no real ‘better’ between the genders.
There were only those strong enough to live and those weak enough to fall and Viktor had worked too hard not to be part of the latter.
That was why he had only invited one alpha into his life, or perhaps Viktor had been the one to invite himself into his.
Even then, when Hextech had been just strokes of pen upon a page, Viktor had seen an opportunity within it.
To him, hextech was more than innovation—it was salvation. It was a chance to create a world where suffering was not the default, where hardship was no longer a birthright of those born in Zaun’s depths. A world where even omegas, so often caged by rigid roles and expectations, could live freely, unimpeded by the traditions that sought to define their worth.
It was his dream, one he realised could be made a reality with the work of the kind alpha with sweet, puppy-dog eyes.
But now, as Viktor leaned over the desk, so many sketches and pages of notes that he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began, he felt hopeless.
The faint humming of crystals filled the room, and after hours of it being the only sound keeping the omega company, he was beginning to grow sick of it. The constant vibrations worked to give him a throbbing headache that could not even be hampered by the strong painkillers he so often relied upon for his leg.
On top of that, the work had grown useless. He was unproductive, just sketching out the same equations that refused to balance, consulting the same notes whose words were beginning to swim together and become blocked out by his spotting vision.
Yet he still refuses to stop.
Jayce comes for him at some point, at a time Viktor could not claim to know.
But surely, based on the alpha’s furrowed brows and pursed lips, it has been far more than the ‘few hours’ Viktor had promised he would be gone for.
“Hello Jayce,” Viktor said, short and nonchalant as he picked up a small metal invention, one that he’d found lying on the streets and thought it worthwhile to pick apart, to try to see how he could utilise hextech crystals in the devices most accessible to the public. He had a few notes on how it worked, but that had been all he’d managed to do for the past few hours.
“What brought you here?” The omega asked, scenting the air carefully and wincing when he realised Jayce’s scent was bitter with anger, or frustration, he’d never been too good at discerning alpha scents.
“I could ask you the same thing,” The alpha said, his voice hardening as he stepped away to bring a chair to Viktor’s side. The harsh scraping of metal legs against the floor did nothing to alleviate his headache, rather it only made things worse.
“How long have you been in here?” Jayce questioned as he sat down, the two of them were so close that Viktor could feel the man’s body heat. The alpha always ran so warm, a trait Viktor, who was always incredibly cold, was rather jealous of.
Viktor did not answer, but he knew from the state of his clothes, his rumpled hair as well as the millions of empty mugs behind him, that the answer must be rather obvious.
Jayce sighed, his voice softening as he looked at the omega, no longer in frustration but with concern. “You should rest.”
“I am fine,” Viktor snapped, his accent thick with frustration. His pencil scratched against the paper with more force than necessary.
Jayce sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You always say that, and every time, I end up carrying you to bed when you collapse.”
“Then do not bother yourself,” Viktor shot back, still not looking up. “I am perfectly capable.”
“The world waits for no one, Jayce. It does not care if my weary body needs rest.” Viktor said, fixing his gaze back to the invention in his hands. His nimble fingers ran across the grooves and around buttons, his mind silently pleading for the answer to be made aware of him.
Jayce frowned but didn’t argue. He knew better. Viktor didn’t want his help—not when he was in one of these moods. Any attempt to interfere would only make him dig his heels in deeper.
The alpha huffed, his voice high with amusement as he crossed his arms and leaned them against the table.
“Fine then, I’ll just wait for you to be done.”
Silence hung between them, save for the sound of Viktor’s pencil scratching against paper. Jayce stayed true to his word, standing there quietly, his presence a steadying weight in the room. Viktor’s shoulders were tense, his movements growing sharper, less precise.
Finally, with an aggravated growl, Viktor slammed the pencil down, the sound startling in the stillness. He buried his face in one hand, his other hand waving to the mountain of papers in front of him.
"I don’t know what to do," he whispered, the admission heavy with exhaustion and frustration. "Everything—everything I try fails. The data doesn’t align, the calculations are off, and I—I can’t—" His voice cracked, and Jayce felt his heart twist.
"Hey," the alpha murmured, voice soft and grounding. "It’s okay."
"It’s not okay!" Viktor snapped, pulling his hands away to glare at Jayce. His eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion, his cheeks flushed from his rising distress. "Do you think I enjoy this? Watching idea after idea fall apart because I’m too—" He cut himself off, breathing hard.
The omega freezes when he feels a warm, heavy hand rest upon his shoulder.
Jayce might scent him, he might laugh and smile at him but Jayce has never touched him, not like this.
The alpha, having not been shoved off or screamed at, pulls the omega in closer. Wrapping his arms around Viktor until the two of them are in a gentle embrace.
Viktor is too tired, too comforted to resist the alpha’s touch. As soon as he finds his aching head resting against a strong chest, he melts into it. If he were any less exhausted, he might have even been embarrassed at the way in which he cuddled in closer.
This time, the alpha’s purring and resulting vibrations work to soothe his head, in a matter of minutes the stabbing pain is little more than an occasional twitch.
He can feel calloused fingers sweep away his wavy locks, which are no doubt slightly matted and stuck with grease and other chemicals.
His skin lights up as he feels cracked lips press softly to his forehead.
“It’s okay,” The alpha repeats. Now, safely wrapped in his arms and breathing in the scent of warm cinnamon, Viktor truly believes Jayce. He may not in a few hours when he inevitably comes back to his work. But for now, he does.
His racing heart begins to calm, as his adrenergic nervous system is no longer overloaded with stimulation and stress. With each inhale of Jayce’s scent, his limbs seem to loosen.
Viktor wonders why he’s never let Jayce hold him like this before, why has Jayce never initiated comfort like this before.
It’s helpful. Calming in a way no hug has ever been before.
The peace is broken by the clanging of the workshop door, but even then it’s not Viktor who jumps. He realises that it was Jayce who was startled, his grip tightening on the omega in his arms as he turns to the door. Viktor can feel the alpha tense, and despite the soft, gooey state of his mind, Viktor shifts so that he can glance over Jayce’s shoulder and see who it is that interrupted them.
“It reeks of sweet cinnamon milk in here! I’ve never known either of your scents to be so sweet, or so well mixed— Ah.”
It’s Heimerdinger, the alpha with his nose in his book of notes, as it typically was. He had stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence and the omega could see the sparkle of something having clicked in his mind. What it was though, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t care to know, anyway.
“Sir—” Jayce started, straightening up but not quite letting go of the omega in his arms.
“No, no! I’ll go. I just hadn’t realised, that’s all,” Heimerdinger chuckled smirked, his sharp eyes flicking between them. “Well, Jayce, good luck,” he said, his voice warm but teasing.
Viktor tilted his head, moving out of Jayce’s warm embrace to take a better look at the alpha. He frowned. “For Progress Day? He hardly needs luck. The council has been singing his praises for weeks.” Viktor never liked it when people doubted Jayce, the alpha was brilliant and it has taken Viktor too long to convince him of that fact.
Heimerdinger’s laughter was soft, almost fond. “Sure, Viktor. Progress Day.” He shot Jayce a wink before turning to leave.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Viktor turned back to Jayce, his brows furrowed. “What was that about?”
“You know Heimerdinger. He’s always saying stuff like that.”
“Mm.” Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Vague and unhelpful as usual, then.”
The omega rose, wiping his graphite-covered fingers onto a cloth as he began to clear his desk’s surface, sorting piles for later.
“Did you… mind it?” Jayce asked, the words tumbling out quickly as if he wanted to get them over with. He crossed his arms, trying to appear casual, but the slight furrow of his brow betrayed his nerves.
Viktor blinked, caught off guard. He considered the question for a moment, his golden eyes studying Jayce. Affection wasn’t something he often welcomed—or understood, for that matter. It had always felt intrusive, unnecessary, a distraction from his work.
But this time had been… different.
He thought about the way his headache had eased, how the tight knot of anxiety in his chest had eased as Jayce held him. The memory lingered, warm and unexpected.
“It was fine,” Viktor said finally, his voice even but softer than usual.
Jayce’s lips parted slightly, surprised. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Viktor turned back to his desk, busying himself with arranging the last of his tools. “I suppose… it helped.”
Jayce grinned, relief washing over him. “Good. I just—wanted to make sure, you know. I didn’t want to overstep or anything.”
Viktor glanced at him briefly, his lips twitching into something that might have been a faint smile. “You overstep all the time, Jayce. But… not this time.”
Jayce’s grin widened, his confidence returning. “Well, that’s progress, right?” He said, softly nudging the omega with his elbow as he chuckled.
“Don’t push your luck,” Viktor muttered, though his tone lacked its usual edge.
Eventually, the acts of affection, the hugs, the gentle kisses, warm fingers running through his hair, became so common that Viktor hardly even registered them anymore, only noting that they’d happened when he realised how much lighter he felt.
And how much sweeter the room smelt.