Archive of Our Own

First Semester

Jayce stares at the gates of hell and wishes he could turn around and go home. Well, if the gates of hell are the heavy wooden doors of his lab that starts in five minutes, maybe even three with how long he’s leaned against the wall in the corner pretending he’s waiting for someone. He needs this intro course for his major, and the sooner he takes it, the faster he can go on to courses that he cares about. Jayce still cares. He just can’t face his professor, or lab partner, after breaking five (5!) glass burettes just two days ago. Damn titrations.

Jayce slips into the lab with a sigh and avoids all possible eye contact with his lab partner when he sits next to him. One: Jayce doesn’t remember his name, too focused on apologizing after every glass he broke. Two: his lab partner is beautiful, and Jayce doesn’t know how to say hi without a voice crack. Three: his lab partner probably thinks he’s stupid and not worth his time.

Jayce pretends to respond to an important text. Really, he’s typing word vomit into his notes app and begging for time to move faster. Their professor is late.

“I’m surprised you returned, burette boy,” his lab partner says after a few minutes of awkward silence. Maybe it was only awkward for Jayce.

Jayce groans and flops against the lab bench, “I’d drop out if I could.” He peeks up at his lab partner who grins at him, and oh, maybe he doesn’t think Jayce is a complete idiot. “Also, it’s Jayce.”

“I know,” he nods towards Jayce’s notebooks, “written all over your materials. Burette boy suits you, no?”

Jayce adverts his eyes, “I don’t even remember your name.”

“It’s Viktor.”

“Hm,” Jayce takes a chance and sits up, leaning closer to Viktor with a small smile, “I’m excited to work with you, Vik.”

“Vik?”

“Vik suits you, yeah?”

Their professor eventually shows up with apologies flying as fast as her limbs. Jayce tries to be extra careful with all the glass materials, and Viktor pokes fun at him every time, tacking a “burette boy” onto his teasing remarks.

As Viktor stares intently at a chemical reaction, Jayce stares intently at the sharp lines of Viktor’s face. His fingers itch to sketch the jut of his strong nose and the two moles near his right eye and upper left lip, respectively. His finger sketches out the triangles and rectangles of a preliminary sketch onto the lab bench. Jayce eyes Viktor’s lips intently, trying to figure out the different expressions they’d make and the emotions they could convey paired with the sparkle in his eyes. Oh, he has another mole at the back of his neck and one peeking out near his collarbone. Jayce is a bit too focused on searching for additional moles that he doesn’t realize Viktor turns to face him.

“What are you doing?”

Oh shit. Don’t be weird.

“Examining the geometry of your face.”

Fuck.

Viktor stares at him, eyebrows raised, “What?”

“Uh,” Jayce realizes that maybe he should have said something more normal, and words start leaving his mouth without his consent, “I draw… and you’re a good subject to study. Striking bone structure, expressive features, elegant fingers, a wide range of motion, great silhouette for quick warm-up sketches but also an endless supply of subtle finer details for a more focused study, uh…yeah.”

God, Jayce doesn’t know how to say normal things. He needs to shut up. How is he supposed to make friends with anyone on campus if he can’t hold a conversation without making it weird? The clubs he’s looked at are all really cliquey. His roommate sucks. Everyone on his dorm floor is rude. He’s going to die alone at this point. Suffocated in his sleep by the radioactive biohazard that is his roommate’s entire existence.

Viktor continues staring at him, his mouth parted before he quickly shuts it and looks away, “Thank you. No one has ever said something quite like that to me.”

“I-“ Jayce doesn’t know if he should keep talking, “You’re welcome? I’m so sorry for being weird, I-“

Viktor places a hand on Jayce’s shoulder, and he shuts up, “Interesting is a more fitting word than weird, burette boy.”

“God, I’m so bad at making friends.”

“Ah, friends,” Viktor slowly retracts his hand.

Jayce is going to throw himself out the window now, thank you.

“Unless you don’t want to be?”

Viktor smiles at him, “I’d love to, burette boy.”

And so, Jayce becomes burette boy. Not only twice a week during lab, but in the dining hall, when he invites Viktor to lunch after lab, and they go every day before Viktor’s last class. In Viktor’s single dorm, Jayce spends most of his nights avoiding his awful roommate who probably showers once a semester (he hasn’t yet). In the library, they sit in companionable silence, working until Jayce gets fidgety and Viktor offers to walk around with him. On the phone, Viktor calls him the first night of fall break as Jayce is cooking dinner with his mom, and they call every night until they reunite on campus a week later. He hears “burette boy” hundreds of times daily. Until he doesn’t.

Jayce people-watches in the dining hall, sketching animated silhouettes, focused on pushing large movements rather than finer details. He’s also sketched Viktor’s side profile a few times, but that’s beside the point.

“BB, pass me the chili flakes, this pasta tastes like nothing.”

Jayce stops sketching and looks up, “BB?”

“Calling you burette boy every few sentences is quite a mouthful. BB is more efficient,” Viktor holds his hand out expectantly until Jayce places the shaker in his palm.

“You could also just call me Jayce. One syllable is more efficient than two,” he teases.

“Everyone calls you Jayce, BB. How am I supposed to win your favor amongst your crowd of fans?”

“I don’t see the crowd of fans sitting in this booth with us,” Jayce waves his arm at the relatively empty surrounding chairs. “You have me all to yourself, Vik.”

"Eh, do I want you all to myself?"

Jayce throws his eraser at him.

Second Semester

Jayce throws his head back and groans at his laptop, the spinning wheel of death kicking him out of Piltover University’s course scheduling page. Besides him, Viktor refreshes his own page with a sigh. When the page reloads, the lab they wanted to take together is filled, and so is the waitlist. Jayce might cry. How is he supposed to spend four hours in a lab without Viktor?

“BB, you look like a kicked puppy right now, we still have lectures together,” Viktor reassures, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“But it’s not the same.” Jayce knows he’s being dramatic, but intro labs are so long and boring without someone he enjoys talking to.

“We still have lab together in less than an hour.”

Jayce flops onto the floor, “But we won’t have lab together in four months.”

“Puppy, it’s okay. We live together in four months.”

“Puppy?” Jayce ignores the part about living together just for now. If he thinks about it, he might implode, and Viktor will have to solder him back together as a kintsugi reconstruction.

“Do I even have to explain myself?” Viktor points at him and slowly gives him a once over, “Just look at you.”

“I can’t look at myself without a mirror, Vik.”

Viktor rolls his eyes and gets up from his chair. "Let’s go on a walk.”

Jayce is at the door and toeing his sneakers on before Viktor finishes his sentence.

“See. Puppy.”

“Okay, fine,” Jayce grabs Viktor’s arm, makes exaggerated puppy eyes, and pouts for the full effect. “Now can we go on a walk? We only have thirty-five minutes.”

"I think I need my cane today. Give me a second," he grabs it from the side of his desk and moves to put on his shoes. “Do you want a treat, too?”

“Oh fuck yeah!”

They get two hot chocolates to go on the way to class, and Jayce insists they check out the new cafe near campus after to study and split a strawberry chocolate crepe.

The cafe is cozy, and Jayce would spend more time admiring the comfy beanbag chairs, low wooden tables, and the hundreds of potted plants basking in the natural sunlight if he wasn’t with Viktor. Viktor consented to be Jayce’s long-term art study for however long he was interested, so instead of doing his homework like he said he would, Jayce is sketching Viktor’s hands. Last week he focused on his eyes, nose, and lips. There are about seven pages worth of those. Viktor keeps insisting that he’s not that interesting of a subject, but Jayce has never wanted to draw someone so much. No one can compare. He draws every day, it's relaxing and helps him be creative without the shackles of a deadline or grade in a life surrounded by academia. Viktor is just so alive. There’s always a new way he wants to draw him, a new way to challenge his skills. He could stare at Viktor all day like this.

“BB, have you started your assignments?”

Ah, he's been caught.

“How'd you know?”

“I know your readings for class aren't interesting enough for you to scribble frantically in your notebook,” Viktor smirks at him, “and you were staring at me more than your laptop, which isn’t even on.”

Jayce should have been more discreet so he could continue procrastinating. “But drawing you is fun.”

Viktor laughs, "I understand. I've gotten distracted with ideas for a new poem, but at least finish one assignment, puppy.”

"Fine," Jayce looks through his calendar to find the easiest assignment he can complete. “I have to watch a short film and analyze the composition for my Intro to Film class, wanna watch?”

They split a crepe and watch the short film. Jayce takes notes on the form and narrative while Viktor makes random comments that make both of them laugh. They're watching the final scene, and Jayce can't help feeling excited for the characters on screen. He loves the meet-cute cafe date trope.

“If you think about it, the surface area of a narrow water bottle compared to a mug increases the likelihood of an indirect kiss, so she should have asked for her water instead of trying the latte,” Viktor says.

“But the latte is more romantic,” Jayce points at the screen as he jots down another note, “The milk mustache makes both of them laugh, and they’re less awkward now. It gives the viewer butterflies to place themself in her position.”

“Romantic. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever want to share an indirect kiss.”

They finish the crepe, and Jayce types up and submits his analysis. They stay in the cafe for another few hours, silently working on assignments. He can’t help but take little breaks at regular intervals to sketch Viktor. He gets caught more often than not and is forced to complete his readings. The times when Viktor is so focused on his work are irresistible, and he gets a full ten minutes of sketching before he decides to finish a discussion post.

They're packing up to head back to Viktor's dorm when he feels a tap on his back.

Viktor clears his throat, “Do you have water? I don’t want to pay extra for a cup.”

“Yeah, give me a sec,” Jayce pulls his water bottle out of his bag and hands it to Viktor. “No need to waterfall, I don’t care.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow and stares him down as he takes a sip. Huh. Weird.

Third Semester

1:02 AM

Vik <3
okay
BB can you unlock the door in 10 mins?
forgot my keys

Vik <3
it's fine

Vik <3
you were tired earlier
i thought you went to bed early until you texted

Jayce tugs a hoodie over his head, toes his sneakers on, and clumsily locks the door. He books it down the hill in search of Viktor. The upper campus dorms are a pain in Jayce’s ass and an even bigger pain for Viktor’s leg. Viktor insisted they should take the opportunity to have a kitchen, private bathroom, and bigger room. The elevator actually works all year round, unlike Viktor’s previous accommodations. Almost apartment-style living, without the living room and separate bedrooms. Viktor reassured Jayce that the university shuttles run consistently, at regular hours. 1am studying for an exam is not "regular hours." The lighting is also shit. People walking alone could get jumped for all he knows.

He spots Viktor halfway down and speeds up, “Vik!”

Viktor's hair is ridiculously windswept, and he has a wet cat-like scowl on his face. It would be cute in any other circumstance.

“BB, you didn’t have to come get me.”

“But I wanted to," Jayce pokes his forehead, "Why did you hike up here alone? It’s too dark.”

“My leg felt better than usual, so I thought it would be fine.”

“Is it fine?”

“Eh, it’s a bit sore. I’ll live.”

“Vik.”

Viktor sighs, “Fine, it started to hurt five minutes ago, and I really wish I brought my cane with me. I’d like to sit down.”

There are no benches nearby, so they sit on the grass.

“It’s cold.”

Jayce pulls his hoodie off and plops it on Viktor’s head. He can survive in a tank top for another fifteen minutes. Actually, more like ten. He inches closer as a gust of wind assaults his shoulders. Viktor slowly scoots between Jayce’s legs and rests his head against his chest. Guess the hoodie wasn’t enough. He pulls Viktor a bit closer and wraps his arms around him.

Viktor groans and runs a hand down his face, “Today was terrible.”

“You can always ask me for support, Vik.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I planned to take the shuttle, but I lost track of time. Vivian offered me a ride before she left, but I declined thinking the shuttles were still running,” Viktor sighs, “I feel stupid.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid. You're stressed and tired. And you never bother me." Jayce rubs his chin against the top of Viktor's head, "I’d walk out in a blizzard to make sure you got home safe, even if we didn’t live together. I’ll make you hot chocolate when we get home, okay? We can relax a bit and sleep in before your exam.”

“BB, I don’t know if I can sleep. I can’t stop worrying about it. What if I fuck up? My GPA can’t take that blow, or I lose my scholarships." Viktor goes silent, and Jayce feels him shaking.

"Keep talking, Vik. I'm listening."

Viktor pushes his head into Jayce's shoulder like they're lying in bed, ready to fall asleep. He whispers against his bare skin like he's afraid the wind will snatch his words.

"This class should be easy for me, but my professor makes her exams so unnecessarily confusing. She’s on academic probation for too many students failing the class, so I don’t understand why she’s still teaching.”

Jayce hums to indicate he's still listening. The clouds are starting to look a bit ominous, and he really hopes it's not going to rain before they get back. That would send Viktor into another spiral. Although, he'd enjoy the sound of rain pelting the window while he sipped hot chocolate. Jayce hopes it thunders.

"I'm so scared and angry, and I just want to run up this hill like anyone else and scream until I can't breathe. But I can't."

“You can still scream if that'll make you feel better, Vik."

Viktor laughs, "It would be less cinematic. I'll write a poem filled with existential dread instead. Fear of failure inspired."

"You’re the most brilliant person I know. You’ll be okay. You won't fail. Getting some actual rest will help you perform better.”

“Okay."

They sit in silence while Viktor rests his leg. Jayce is starting to become a human icicle, but he’ll wait for as long as Viktor needs.

“Sometimes I wish I could change everything about myself," Viktor whispers. "I’m so imperfect. I don’t understand why you’re always drawing me."

Jayce presses his forehead against the back of Viktor’s neck, “There’s beauty in imperfections. I like drawing you because you’re you, Vik.”

“I can’t even stand up straight.”

“So? What’s so great about being straight?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Viktor smirks at him, small and a bit wobbly, and Jayce can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He’s missing something, but he doesn’t care as long as Viktor is starting to make fun of him again.

“Use your deductive reasoning, puppy,” Viktor pokes his nose.

“My brain isn’t accepting deductive reasoning requests at this hour.” Jayce whines, “Just tell meee.”

“Eh, you’ll figure it out. Maybe.” Viktor tugs at his hand, “Let’s go home.”

They make it back to their dorm, and Viktor sits on the couch they put in the kitchen because fuck a dining table (it was the cheaper option), while Jayce melts semi-sweet chocolate chunks into the simmering concoction of chili pepper flakes, cinnamon sticks, and milk on the stove. Store-bought hot chocolate is banned in their dorm. Jayce will eat almost anything, but he will not have his mother’s sacred hot chocolate recipe desecrated by the likes of inferior powdered sachets.

Viktor also prefers his sweet and spicy hot chocolate. He might be addicted, actually. He has at least a cup every morning before his first class. Jayce always makes it for him, even though Viktor insists he can learn. Doing this one thing for Viktor every morning makes it feel like he starts his day off right.

Jayce grabs a pair of mismatched mugs and fills them to the brim. He carefully sits beside Viktor and hands him the larger mug.

“Thank you, BB.”

Viktor sips his hot chocolate in silence, which isn’t unusual but his shoulders are still tense, and his content smile is missing. Well, if hot chocolate isn’t working, Jayce has to take more drastic measures.

Jayce discreetly looks around their dorm for anything that can aid in Operation: Cheer Viktor Up So He Can Sleep Stress-Free. His eyes land on their open pantry, where thirty-five cups of assorted pudding stare back at him.

“Hey, Vik. How many cups of pudding do you think I can eat in one sitting?”

Viktor raises an eyebrow and loudly sips at his hot chocolate, “Puppy, you shouldn’t eat more than one cup in one sitting.”

Jayce takes a loud sip of his own mug, “Okay, but, hypothetically, how many cups do you think I can eat?”

“Ten. Fifteen at most.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.”

Jayce sets his mug on their coffee table and brings all thirty-five cups of pudding back to the couch.

“It’s 1 a.m., BB. This is not the time to see how many cups of pudding you can eat.”

“1 a.m. is exactly the time to test the limits of my pudding-eating capabilities. As future scientists, we must seek out discovery.”

Viktor laughs, “You’re being ridiculous.”

“That's my charm. What’s your hypothesis, Vik?”

“If Jayce consumes more than fifteen cups of pudding, then he will be unable to finish the rest of the pudding cups due to a stomach ache.”

He’s smiling.

“We’re filming this. For posterity,” Jayce pulls out his phone and leans it against the tissue box on the coffee table. He presses record.

“Hello Viktor nation, welcome back to my YouTube channel!” he says in a high-pitched voice.

Viktor chokes.

“Today, I’ll be eating 35 cups of pudding. Vik doesn’t think I can finish all of these, but I’m proving him wrong. We have butterscotch, vanilla, chocolate, and tapioca.”

He points at each flavor.

“I bought these like a month ago, ate one cup, and forgot about them, so I hope they’re not expired.” He checks the expiration dates, “These things have four more months left to live, so why don’t we show no mercy and demolish them all tonight?”

“You’re going to regret this later, BB.”

Viktor's shoulders have relaxed considerably in the past few minutes.

“Shh, that’s a problem for future Jayce. Anyway, let’s start off with vanilla since I just had some hot chocolate. Oh shit, Vik, do you want the rest of mine?”

Viktor smiles and makes grabby hands at Jayce’s mug. With his second mug of hot chocolate and Jayce acting like a fool, the sparkle in his eyes returns.

Jayce starts off slow, talking while he eats each cup of pudding. He can see Viktor curling into the couch the more he talks to his phone about his day. Jayce finishes cup thirty-four in the middle of a story about his professor.

“And then, I shit you not, he gets up on the table, all 4’10 of him, and says nothing is impossible with the help of psychological manipulation,” Jayce mimics his professor’s high-pitched voice, “'Believe in your bullshitting skills and you’ll go far in life, my children!'”

Viktor is gasping into the couch cushions, his hot chocolate long gone, “Why do you sound exactly like him?”

Jayce shrugs as he opens the last cup, “I’m full of surprises.” He swallows it down in one go. “I could actually eat more of these.”

“Please don’t, it’s late.”

Jayce looks at his phone. 2:07 a.m.

“Shit, we should go to bed.”

Jayce washes the mugs while Viktor brushes his teeth. He migrates to their room, pulls his tank top off, and flops onto his bed. He already brushed his teeth earlier, but the pudding canceled that out. He should brush his teeth again.

Viktor walks into their room, still wearing Jayce’s hoodie, “I don’t understand how you can sleep half naked. It’s too cold.”

Jayce rolls his eyes and lifts his blanket, “Come here if you’re too cold.”

He’ll brush his teeth in the morning.

Viktor sits on the edge of the bed, “Give me a minute. I need to take the brace off.”

“Do you want help?” Jayce sits up and waits for Viktor to decide.

Viktor remains silent for a moment before he nods and mumbles a “yes.” Jayce slips off the bed and kneels in front of Viktor. They’re quiet again as he gently toggles with the brace. He’s seen Viktor remove it hundreds of times in the past year and even more often now that they live together, but it’s only Jayce’s second time doing so. He sets the brace against Viktor’s nightstand and grabs a few of Viktor’s pillows in case he needs them to support his leg while he sleeps. Jayce flicks the overhead light off and turns his bedside lamp on.

“Are you feeling better?”

Viktor pushes his face into Jayce’s shoulder and nods, “Thank you for taking care of me today, puddin.”

“Always,” Jayce squeezes his shoulder, “and puddin, really?”

“I’m not listening to any criticisms,” Viktor brushes his fingers against the back of Jayce’s head, “Your hair is getting longer.”

“I thought I’d try something new. How’s it look?”

“Eh, it’s not bad.”

“Oh my god," Jake pulls a betrayed face, "you think it’s ugly.”

“No, I said it’s not bad,” Viktor ruffles the top of his head. “It’ll look better longer. Give it time.”

“Guys,” Jayce pokes at The Council (a collection of stuffed animals from childhood) crammed against the wall and his bed, “Viktor thinks I’m ugly.”

“I did not say that, puddin.”

“It was implied, Vik.”

Viktor kicks his shin, “You’re blessed with good features. Stop fishing for compliments.”

Jayce pulls Viktor's hair, “Vik, you’re a model, don’t look down on poor me.”

“I’m no model. The only person who sees me as such is you.”

“Vik, how many times do I have to say it? You’re objectively the very definition of beauty. If I looked in the dictionary your name would be-”

Viktor places his hand over Jayce's mouth and pushes his face away, “I think it’s time for you to close your eyes and be silent.”

“No, you.”

Viktor laughs and turns the lamp off, repositioning himself at Jayce’s side, “Sleep.”

Jayce has the urge to pull him closer. To wrap his arms around Viktor’s waist and tangle their legs together. The 2 a.m. thoughts are starting to make no sense. He should sleep.

“Night, Vik.”

Viktor hums into Jayce’s shoulder, his lips pressed against bare skin. Oh God.

He sees a flash of lightning and smiles when the thunder follows.

“Goodnight, BB.”

Jayce wakes up with an awful stomach ache. He throws up. Viktor laughs at him while rubbing soothing circles into his back.

Fourth Semester

Jayce loves doing laundry. Not because it’s fun but because Viktor takes it so seriously. Jayce’s laundry basket broke while they were moving in last semester, and he never got around to buying a new one. “Can I borrow yours, Vik?” turned into an alternating weekly schedule where one of them washed the clothes and the other folded them. It’s Jayce’s turn to fold, and he knows Viktor will complain about how he folded his pants, but he refuses to lose.

Viktor's taking a break from studying to write another poem. He's started writing them more frequently, but Jayce has never read any. Viktor never offers to show him, so he assumes it's a more private experience. Jayce has a few sketches he keeps to himself. He gets it.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Viktor isn't even looking at him, still writing in his notebook with neat and controlled strokes.

Jayce rolls his eyes fondly, “No, you do it wrong.”

“It’s ugly.” Viktor still hasn't looked up, his hand moving faster and his writing most likely becoming less legible.

“Then why don’t you fold them yourself?” Jayce loudly drops the pair of slacks he just folded onto Viktor's growing pile. He hasn't started folding his own clothes yet.

“We have a system, BB. It’s your turn.”

“You’re going to refold them anyways, so why do I even bother?”

“Because you want to spite me.”

“Maybe. But that’s also what you’re doing.”

“Perhaps.”

They have this conversation every time they do laundry, and neither of them ever tire of it.

“You know, we could always just fold our own clothes and only alternate who washes,” Jayce says, already knowing what Viktor's response will be.

“But I like the way you fold my shirts.”

He rolls his eyes again, “Then why not the way I fold pants?”

Viktor puts his pen down and turns to Jayce, “Because it’s incorrect.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jayce throws the neatly folded pile at Viktor, who laughs and begins refolding them.

Jayce hates group projects. The only group work he voluntarily throws himself into is a group of two, just him and Viktor. But Viktor isn’t in this class, and group work is required. Relying on other adults to get their shit together is such a pain in the ass. One of their group members has yet to come to a single meeting, another has been “sick with the flu” for the past six weeks but still comes to class, and some asshole dropped out halfway through the semester after contributing a single, incorrect, line of text to their research. It’s just Jayce and Ekko, a sixteen-year-old genius who graduated high school early and jumped straight into college (Piltover University essentially begged him to enroll by throwing every possible scholarship opportunity at him). Okay, so maybe Jayce enjoys working with a total of two people. The circumstances still suck. They’re the overworked and underappreciated group members braving the 8 a.m. deadline at 12 a.m., with seven empty coffee cups between them.

Jayce so badly needs a break, better yet, a nap. He wants to crawl into bed, but they’re so close to being done. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice Viktor approaching him in plain sight until he feels a light tap on his forehead. “Please tell me you’re coming home soon, puppy.”

“Vik, you didn’t need to stay up waiting for me.”

“You’ve done the same. I made you česnečka,” he eyes the discarded coffee cups. “I know you forgot to feed yourself.”

“Thanks, Vik.”

“Anything for you, BB. And please drink some water,” he hands Jayce his own water bottle and turns to the elevator, “I’ll wait for you on the first floor.”

Jayce decides to take a break to appreciate Viktor’s cooking if nothing else. He inhales the garlic scent wafting out of the round container in his hands. Soup is now his favorite food. He hasn’t tried it yet, but he knows he’d kill for another bowl. Ten minutes won’t make or break their grade.

Jayce foregoes a spoon and takes a sip directly from the bowl. God, he loves garlic.

“Your boyfriend's sweet,” Ekko says, looking up from his laptop to smile at Jayce.

“Oh, Vik’s not my boyfriend.”

Ekko stares at Jayce, “Didn’t he just call you baby? And puppy?”

Was that not normal friend behavior? Nicknames are common among guys, right?

“That’s just an inside joke.”

“Jayce," Ekko points at the container of soup, "he made you dinner.”

“We live together. We always cook for each other.”

“Oh my God, can you not see how he looks at you? He delivered dinner at 12am. Don’t you live on upper campus? The shuttles shut down an hour ago.” Ekko looks like he's about to jump across the table and throttle him, their presentation be damned.

“Oh shit, he did it again.”

Jayce grabs his phone, fully intending to scold Viktor, and sees his unread texts.

Vik <3

10:00 PM

BB when are you coming home?

11:13 PM

i’m making you dinner

11:45 PM

omw
don’t worry i asked for a ride

The tightness that started to build up around his torso eases a bit. Jayce wants to run down and ask Viktor something, but he's not sure what. He needs to focus on this research presentation. He’ll focus on his soup and get back to work. Thinking about Viktor can wait until later.

Ekko gives them a ride home. Jayce has no comprehensible thoughts left in him. He flops onto his bed and passes out immediately. He wakes up two hours later and stares at the ceiling, begging his brain to shut the fuck up and turn off. He’s so delirious he swears The Council is having an argument by his head. Viktor’s pressed into his shoulder like usual, and he decides to stare at the rise and fall of his shoulders. He rests his eyes thirty minutes before his alarm is supposed to go off, except it doesn’t, and Viktor shakes him awake twenty minutes before he’s supposed to present. Jayce spares a few minutes in the bathroom, messily buttons his dress shirt up, and shimmies into his slacks while Viktor blearily watches him from his bed. He forgoes breakfast, runs out the door and down the hill, and makes it to class with five minutes to spare.

The presentation goes surprisingly well for the state that he’s in. Jayce fakes a smile and exudes false confidence for thirty minutes, and he feels like he’s about to pass out. He’s so hungry he might start eating his note card, but he has to listen to the other presentations and take notes for the next few hours. "Participation" in other presentations is part of his final grade, and he’s not letting his physiological needs get in the way. God, that’s so fucked. Ekko offered him a tangerine after their presentation but that only made his hunger worse. His breathing is becoming erratic, and his leg won’t stop bouncing. He wants someone to knock him out.

He’s seriously considering eating his crumpled-up notecard.

Ekko places a hand on his shoulder and takes the wrinkled ball of paper out of his hand, “Hey man, let me treat you to some food after this, yeah?”

Jayce can’t even verbally respond anymore. He just nods and attempts to convey his gratitude with a smile. If the freshman wants to pay for his meal, who is he to argue? His meal plan is completely covered by his scholarships.

They end up at a hole-in-the-wall diner. It’s one of the most affordable and delicious places he’s been to on campus. He wants to take Viktor here. He wants to go home. Fuck, he didn’t get to make Viktor his hot chocolate. This is the first time he’s missed a day. It feels blasphemous.

Ekko drops him off at his dorm, and Jayce hugs him and almost falls asleep. He’s sad he won’t be in another class with the kid next semester. Jayce still sucks at making friends, but he wants to push past classmate camaraderie and actually try. He’ll invite Ekko over on a day when he actually feels alive. Jayce waves goodbye and heads up to their dorm.

Viktor’s shoes are all lined up near the door. He’s probably in their room studying for his last exam in a few days. Jayce is so tired, but he’s making the hot chocolate. He doesn’t need to think about it, the habit is so ingrained in his brain that his body automatically goes through the motions. With his brain empty of all thought after hyperfocusing on the information for his presentation, his library conversation with Ekko seeps back into focus.

Jayce has been thinking a lot this past semester. Yes, finals week (also known as the past month) takes up a considerable portion of his thoughts but most of his thinking revolves around Viktor. Not just his usual thoughts of beautiful hands and a soft smile when Jayce hands him his mug in the morning. Or that little glint in his eye right before he calls Jayce an idiot without calling him an idiot. He’d rather call Jayce BB, puppy, or the occasional puddin. And really, that’s what he’s been thinking about.

Those nicknames were just a joke, right? Just some lighthearted teasing from one bro to another bro. So why did molten pools of affection tickle his heart whenever Viktor referred to him as anything other than his name? Why did it feel that much more special when Viktor called him Jayce? Everyone else calls him by his name. It’s just a name. So, why? What is it about Viktor?

Viktor, who makes him garlic soup, and delivers it at 12 a.m. Viktor, who crawls into his bed almost every night because he’s “cold.” Viktor, who insists they do laundry together, folds Jayce’s pants the “correct” way when they come out of the dryer and refolds every pair of pants when it’s Jayce’s turn to do the laundry, just to spite him. Viktor, who laughs like a dying seagull and still makes fun of Jayce’s wheezing laugh. Viktor, who regularly mentions different events or activities in the area they should check out. Viktor, who wakes up early on Saturdays to make Jayce breakfast just because. Viktor, who tried to bake a cake for Jayce’s birthday and accidentally burnt it. Viktor, who he always wants to come home to. To share his day, hear his laugh, and just be with him. Always Viktor.

Oh.

Oh.

Maybe Jayce is in love.

And maybe they’ve been dating in every sense except the word.

Jayce needs to know.

Jayce heads to their room, mug in hand, and stops at the doorway. He turns the doorknob with trembling fingers and makes his way into their room.

Viktor’s bed is piled with extra throw blankets like a nest to combat the chill of being right against the window. It’s a wonder he chose this side of the room when they first moved in together, what with how he constantly complains about the cold. Even when Jayce offered to switch sides, Viktor labeled it as too much of a hassle. Now that Jayce thinks about it, Viktor sleeps in his bed more often than his own.

Wait.

Viktor’s brace leans against the side of his bed, his legs sprawled out, bare, while the rest of his upper body is wrapped in blankets. Something about direct sunlight being warmer than curling up in a blanket. Soft rays of sunlight stream through the window, running up from Viktor’s toes and kissing his face as he scribbles into a notebook. He’s beautiful. Not just in the objective, artistic way he’s been convincing himself of for a while now. Beautiful in the way that Jayce really wants to kiss Viktor’s face, too. Instead, he hands him the mug of hot chocolate.

Maybe he’s been saying “I love you” without saying it this whole time one cup of hot chocolate passed from his hands to Viktor’s.

Viktor smiles up at him with silent thanks, and oh, when Jayce looks for it, he can see what Ekko was talking about. This is a smile reserved only for him. Viktor has never looked at anyone but Jayce with that particular soft curve of his eyes. And despite all of this, Jayce still feels like he’s delusional. He needs to know. He’s desperate to hear how Viktor feels about him. If Viktor has known this the whole time. If he was waiting for Jayce to figure it out. If he’s making up an elaborate scenario, a fantasy, based on nothing but overanalyzed, normal interactions between two best friends.

Oh god, does Viktor even like men?

In the two years they’ve known each other, Viktor has never shown interest in romance. And neither has Jayce, focused on his friendship. His roommate. The love of his life, he’s realizing.

He needs to know right now, or he might throw up.

“BB?” Viktor stares up at him, that beautiful little smile now pulled into a frown, his eyebrows scrunched up as he places his hot chocolate on the side table, “Jayce, are you okay?”

Oh, he’s been standing there spacing out, hasn’t he? Jayce sighs and sits at the edge of Viktor’s bed. He can be brave.

“Vik,” Jayce looks at the fascinating loose thread on one of Viktor’s blankets, his hands shaking, “are we in a relationship, or are we in a…brolationship?”

Fuck. Why did he ask that in such a ridiculous way?

Viktor snorts, “How does one define brolationship?”

He’s not looking at Jayce.

Jayce needs Viktor to look at him.

Maybe the lack of sleep is getting to him. Maybe, he imagined all the dots connecting like the constellations in the night sky. Sketched his own drawing over the preexisting photograph, blurring the colors of friendship, desperate for his realized love to make sense. Maybe he shouldn’t have realized his feelings, because now he feels like he’s suffocating, drowning in the possibility that Viktor doesn’t love him back. Jayce can feel the rest of his body start to shake. Oh God, he’s about to cry.

“Viktor.”

Jayce can barely hear the sound of his own voice, more of a whimper than a whisper.

He sounds so pathetic.

“Oh, Jayce,” Viktor brushes his fingers against Jayce’s clenched fists, takes one hand into his, and tilts Jayce’s chin up to look at him, “BB. Puppy. Puddin. Love.”—Jayce thinks he might pass out—“since you couldn’t tell from the second day of freshman lab, I would love to be in a relationship with you.”

Oh-

Oh.

And, instead of asking Viktor if he can kiss him because honestly, it’s not fair that the sun got first dibs, he blurts out, “Did you really like me from the second day of lab?”

“Yes. I thought you were flirting with me,” Viktor laughs and runs his fingers through Jayce’s hair, “I almost asked you out, and then you said something about being friends.”

Really? It could have been that simple?

“Wait we could have been dating this whole time if I kept my mouth shut?”

“Perhaps. I prefer it this way. I don’t think I would have gotten into poetry if we had started dating immediately.”

“I thought you always liked poetry?”

“Not quite. Pining is a great source of inspiration. I couldn't get you out of my head, so I wrote poems about you for Intro to Poetry, the class right after we’d eat lunch together.”

Jayce wants to fall to the floor and scream. “Pardon? Poems…plural?”

Viktor looks out the window and fidgets with Jayce’s fingers, “My professor’s favorites were always the ones about you. He wanted me to submit them to the university’s literary magazine.”

“He what?” Jayce doesn’t know what to focus on. Viktor is close to interlocking their fingers oh my god, but also OH MY GOD Viktor wrote poetry about him?

“I still write them occasionally…” he turns back to look directly at Jayce, “actually, quite often.”

“You what?” Viktor writes-–present tense-–poetry about him?

Viktor looks at Jayce with his most deadpan expression, “You draw me all the time.”

“But that’s different!”

“I kept reminding myself the same, but is it really? Am I so objectively stunning that your sketchbooks are mostly filled with sketches of everything to do with me? I thought I was projecting my feelings, but I don’t think anyone else cares about the correct ways to depict the bed of my nails, much as I doubt anyone would agonize over the correct imagery and sonic devices to depict the sound of your laughter or the gap between your teeth.”

“When you put it that way, I sound like a creep…”

“BB, I’m trying to tell you that I’ve been in love with you for two years and I have agonized over those little details on paper, trying to memorialize everything about you.”

Viktor loves him? Thinks about the way he laughs? The gap between his teeth? God, he wants to kiss him. Wants to show Viktor how much he adores every single part of him.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Viktor pulls him closer by the collar of his shirt. “Touch me whenever you want, wherever you want.”

His hands automatically slip under Viktor’s t-shirt to grab his waist, so he can feel the skin there, to pull him a bit closer. He pushes his nose into Viktor’s collarbone and inhales right near a collection of beauty marks he’s mapped on paper hundreds of times.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Jayce leans closer to Viktor, cups his cheek with one hand, the other still at his waist, and glides over his lips with a thumb. He’s beautiful. He’s everything. Jayce hasn’t kissed anyone in years, so he starts with a gentle brush of their lips. A soft kiss quickly turns into multiple open-mouthed ones, and then Viktor grabs the back of Jayce’s head and shoves his tongue inside Jayce’s mouth.

Holy shit.

Viktor’s hands are all over him, threading through his hair, pulling the fabric of his shirt, pushing Jayce between his spread legs and almost into his lap in a desperate need to be closer. His hands move down to Viktor’s hips, and he rubs little circles into them. They break apart to breathe. Viktor keeps their lips brushed together, staring into Jayce’s eyes with so much love that he can’t believe he never noticed. He presses his forehead against Viktor’s and lets out a ragged breath. He needs a second to process. A bit more time to catch his breath. And Viktor seems to understand, leaving Jayce’s lips alone to stroke the back of his head and just look. At him. How did he not know? How could he be so blind to Viktor’s feelings? To his own? How self-absorbed could he be, to completely ignore the devotion in those eyes, to deny himself something so obvious. Viktor was right there. Always. Always right here.

He grabs Viktor’s hands and peppers light kisses all over his fingers, starting from his thumbs and moving to his pinky fingers, kissing each knuckle before turning Viktor’s hands and pressing his face into the palm of each hand. He moves on to Viktor’s wrists, up his forearms and elbows, tickling his shoulders with the stubble he hasn’t shaved in a few days. His chest feels tight with the urge to be held in these arms. To be closer. He feels desperate. He wants to sink into Viktor’s skin and never leave. Wants to merge their bodies into a singular being. He wants. But no, he doesn’t want that because that would erase the beautiful man in front of him. Strip him of everything he is and will be. He doesn’t want to lose Viktor right when he finally, finally has him. No. He can’t.

“Vik, can you–” he stares at the mole near Viktor’s eye instead of looking him head-on, he can’t see clearly. Why is everything so blurry? “–can you just hold me for a bit?”

He expects some light teasing, a smirk, or a grin, but Viktor smiles, a tiny thing that lights up his whole face, eyes crinkled and sparkling, “Of course, puppy. Come here.”

Jayce’s back presses flush against Viktor’s chest, his head falling back into the crook of Viktor’s neck as thin arms wrap around his waist. Viktor threads his fingers between Jayce’s and brings their interlocked hands to his lips, kissing Jayce’s knuckles with such gentleness he feels his heart squeeze. He’s not sure why, but he has the intense urge to cry. They’re so close together. He wants to be even closer. He feels so loved and cared for, so why does it hurt? Why? Why hasn’t his heart relaxed yet? Why is it still squeezed so tightly? He feels like he’s falling apart. What’s happening?

He’s shaking. He can feel his heartbeat in his eardrums. Loud. So, so loud. Louder. Faster. He can’t breathe. Where did all the air go? How is he supposed to breathe? Does he have to move his diaphragm himself, or is that supposed to be an automatic function? How is the air supposed to reach his lungs? Does he have lungs? He can’t see. His face is wet. He’s drowning.

Where did Viktor go? He’s alone. It’s cold. He’s freezing over. He’s dying.

How does he breathe?

He doesn’t remember.

He doesn’t-

He-

“Jayce, I’m right here,” Viktor’s breath fans against his ear, “I need you to take a deep breath with me, right through your nose, okay?”

He hears the air going through Viktor’s nose and feels the movement of Viktor’s lungs against his back.

“Hold it with me, BB, then we’ll let it out very slowly.”

He feels Viktor’s movements and listens to the air leave their bodies. Grounds himself in Viktor’s steady heartbeat pressed into his back.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Again and again, over and over, until he can breathe almost normally.

Viktor kisses his temples, “Doing okay, BB?”

“I don’t know,” tears are still falling down his cheeks, “can you--can you take your shirt off?”

“Of course, do you want yours to come off too?”

“Yeah.”

Viktor unbuttons the first few buttons of Jayce’s shirt with his arms still wrapped around him, “Okay, Jayce, I’m going to let you go for a few seconds.”

Jayce nods. He feels ridiculous.

When Viktor’s arms disappear, he feels like he might actually die. What the fuck is happening to him? His shirt comes up over his head, and he barely registers raising his arms so it can come off. Viktor’s arms come back around him.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Vik. It feels like if you let me go, I’ll disintegrate. It’s pathetic.”

”Not pathetic at all. Quite human, actually,” Viktor runs his hands up and down Jayce’s torso and kisses his shoulders, “I think you’ve got a bit too much going on in your head right now, hm? All that stress the past few weeks, the all-nighters, not feeding yourself properly, blitzed out on caffeine, realizing your feelings, having them reciprocated. It might have happened too fast.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely. And you still made me hot chocolate,” Viktor pushes his nose into Jayce’s hair, “Let me take care of you, love. You’ll be okay. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay,” Jayce sniffles, “I trust you.”

They sit like that while the sun continues to set, Viktor running his hands through Jayce’s hair, sketching patterns into the skin of his arms and thighs, kissing the tears away from his eyes, holding him like the most precious thing in the world. Jayce listens to their beating hearts and falls asleep in Viktor’s arms.

When Jayce wakes up, the sky is dark, and the clock reads 8 p.m. He feels like shit. But, somehow, in a good way. He’s not in Viktor’s arms anymore. His head rests on his left leg, and he can feel the tips of Viktor’s fingers running along his scalp. He looks up to see Viktor already looking down at him.

“Hi.”

“Hello, puppy.”

Viktor tugs at strands of Jayce’s hair, running his fingers over his scalp, massaging his temples, and letting Jayce wake up a bit more. He looks around their room, trying to ground himself in their shared space. That entire meltdown derailed his confession.

Fuck, he hasn’t told Viktor he loves him back.

His eyes land on the mug patiently waiting on the side table, “Wait, did your hot chocolate go cold?”

Viktor snorts, “You’re such a dork. I’ll reheat it. I promised to stay, no?”

Jayce really wishes he could redo his confession. Viktor deserved an immediate “I love you," not a meltdown.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Viktor’s fingers pause in his hair.

“Whatever that was. Freaking out. Ruining the moment.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, BB. It’s okay to be overwhelmed.”

“I know it’s okay, in theory,” he looks up at Viktor with a crooked smile, “It’s just hard to be kind to myself.”

“I know,” Viktor smiles back, “I imagine if our positions were reversed, you’d feel exactly how I feel right now, and I’d be saying the same back to you, hm?”

They both laugh. They’re so achingly human, and he wants to be human with Viktor for the rest of his life.

“So, are we in a relationship now?”

“Officially, yes,” Viktor flicks his forehead, “If that’s what you want.”

“God, yes,” Jayce stares up at the ceiling, a smile on his face. They exist in silence for a bit. Jayce traces patterns onto Viktor’s leg and openly stares at him. Before, Viktor would notice him watching, knowing he was studying a subject to be recreated on paper. Now, Viktor knows he’s watching just because he wants to. He wants to sketch Viktor like this, soft, glowing, and wrapped in blankets, but he also just wants to stay here and touch. If he gets up to grab his sketchbook, then he can’t trace little stars and hearts into Viktor’s skin, and he’d much rather be touching Viktor than drawing him. Viktor is so, so beautiful. It’s not an exaggeration that every part of him is. Jayce pushes himself lower and presses a kiss to the inner side of Viktor’s ankle, just below the jut of bone, and does the same on the outer side. He slowly peppers more kisses on the indents on Viktor’s skin left by his brace, every little mole scattered across the skin of his calf, and to the back of his knee.

“What are you doing?”

“Appreciating how beautiful you are,” he kisses Viktor’s bonier knee, “Every single part of you.”

Viktor looks at Jayce in disbelief, “You think my disproportionately sized legs are beautiful?”

“Yes. I have at least twelve pages worth of studies on your legs.” Jayce continues kissing up his thighs and pauses to look up at him, cheek pressed against his skin. “I mean it, Vik. Everything about you is beautiful. Your dying seagull laugh. The pout you make in the morning after burning your tongue. The way you say the word “egotistical.” Your smile when you’ve figured something out. The way you smile at me.”

Viktor’s eyes are glassy, and he pulls Jayce up into another kiss, one hand cradling his jaw and the other against the small of his back. Jayce’s head falls onto Viktor’s left leg, and he looks up, feeling drunk and giddy.

He grins and reaches up to boop Viktor’s nose, “I love you, too, by the way. I’ve said every word except the most important one.”

“That’s what I love about you. You showed me instead.”

“So…” Jayce adverts his eyes and quickly looks back with a grin, “could you show me some of the poetry you wrote about me.”

“Maybe another time, puppy.” Viktor’s looking at Jayce’s nose instead of meeting his eyes, and his ears start to burn red.

Jayce pulls out the pout-and-whine combo for the most compelling dramatics, “Pleaseeee, just one.”

“Fine.” He’s trying to look disgruntled, but the smile runs away from his control.

Viktor grabs a tiny purple notebook from his nightstand and tosses it onto Jayce’s chest. Jayce flips to the first page. Crossed-out words and bullet notes run all over the top of the page. At the bottom, rewritten from the previous attempts, is a six-line poem:

examining my geometry?

    oh-

  oh.

memorialize that
in a poem

posterity.

Jayce laughs, “I didn’t realize something I blurted out without thought would be memorialized in a poem.”

“BB, that line was on loop in my brain for weeks,” Viktor cups his face and gently shakes it, “I was dreaming about it.”

“I guess we’re both a bit infatuated with each other, huh?” Jayce places a hand on Viktor’s waist and kisses the moles on his face. He brushes his fingers over his cheekbones, his eyebrows, the curve of his lips, presses their foreheads together, and cups his face, “I love you, Viktor.”

“I love you too, Jayce.” Viktor stares at him for another moment, running his hands through Jayce’s hair again, and then he nudges Jayce back onto the bed, “Now please rest.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Jayce pouts.

“You’ve already kissed me enough for tonight.”

“But Vik, you're so addictive,” he makes grabby fingers at Viktor but doesn’t move to sit up again.

Viktor holds in a laugh and moves to curl into Jayce’s arms, “Puppy, you need to take care of yourself.”

“Ugh, fine. One more kiss?”

Jayce presses his lips against Viktor’s, and can’t stop smiling into it. They press their smiles together for another few seconds before Jayce pulls away and tugs Viktor into his chest. He closes his eyes and pushes his nose into Viktor’s hair.

Jayce wakes up feeling rested for the first time in weeks. Viktor isn't in bed anymore, so he goes looking for him in the kitchen after he brushes his teeth and washes his face.

Viktor's leaning against the stove with a glass of water in hand, the morning sun shining across his face while the rest of his body remains cast in shadow, and looks Jayce up and down when he enters the kitchen. He places his glass on the counter, walks up to Jayce, and leans into his space. Jayce expects a kiss, but instead of a brush of lips against his, Viktor wraps one arm over his shoulder and pats him on the back.

Did he just get bro hugged?

“Good morning, bro," Viktor steps back with a devious smile.

The audacity of this beautiful man.

“Vik," Jayce pulls out the sad puppy face, "please call me BB. Who is this ‘bro’?”

He loves this side of Viktor. Really, he does. But. But he craves a kiss.

“You’re more puppy than BB right now, dude,” Viktor is seconds away from losing his composure. Jayce can see the little shake in his shoulders and the laugh trying to escape his lips.

“Vik, I’m gonna cry."

“You’re adorable, BB,” Viktor crowds Jayce against the back of the couch. He cups Jayce’s face with both hands, presses a soft kiss to his forehead, tiny pecks against his eyelids, nose, and the corners of his mouth, and skips his lips to bury his nose in Jayce’s neck and pull him even closer.

Jayce whines while wrapping his arms around Viktor’s waist, “Can I please have a kiss.”

“I just gave you plenty of kisses, love,” Viktor emphasizes the love with more tiny pecks on Jayce’s jawline.

Jayce melts, but he’s also desperate to put his mouth against Viktor’s, “With tongue.”

Viktor licks the side of Jayce’s face and smiles at him.

“Why are you such a tease?”

“Because I love your reactions,” Viktor leans closer, his lips barely brushing against Jayce’s, “I’m very patient, puppy. I can wait until you take what you want.”

Jayce pushes their lips together and coaxes Viktor's mouth open, gentle with his tongue as he pushes closer. He wants to stay like this all morning. They lick into each other's mouths, and Jayce starts lightly biting Viktor's bottom lip.

Viktor pulls away to breathe, his inhale coming in ragged, “You have class in an hour.”

Jayce peppers kisses across his shoulder while he waits for Viktor to catch his breath, “Fuck class.”

“You have an exam.”

“Oh, shit.”

Jayce really, really hates finals week.

Viktor kisses his forehead and pushes him towards their room, “Go shower BB, I’ll cook so you’ll actually have time to make hot chocolate.”

Jayce really, really loves Viktor. And he'll show him every day, starting their mornings with at least a few kisses and a mug full of hot chocolate.