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Viktor grew up believing in fate.
His magic abilities initially had nothing to do with it– fate just seemed so right. How could every being not have a set story? What a simple concept. Maybe the lack of free will should have been frightening, but as a child, it was reassuring.
As he grew, and his powers began to form, his hopes were solidified. He fainted in the middle of the day at ten, and his mother was thrilled to hear him speak of the future so clearly. Children with magical abilities were highly prized, after all– he could likely drag them out of poverty if he attended school. But the visions he had, striking randomly throughout his youth, always revolved around one person.
He saw white flurries, and cold surrounding him. The wind blustering, a pair of people in the distance. He interacts with them– he gives a boy a gift, and saves them. He feels their hope, their purity, their bravery, and is glad to reward it. But he feels a special pull towards the child. Something deep, something bright and powerful in his presence. It is more than he is able to comprehend as a child, and even many years later, he struggles with the cacophony of emotion surrounding the vision.
“The same dream, Mama,” Viktor murmured, tucking his face into her neck after waking from sleep once again. “I save them every time. But I don’t understand it.”
“You’ll understand one day, dear.”
Viktor tracked the visions obsessively, trying to connect the dots. He knew it was probably a pointless effort, but his body was continuing to fight him, and it was nice to have something else to focus on. Thankfully, his abilities were growing too, and there was significantly less of a chance he’d die before twenty at that point. His magic, however, became focused on keeping him alive for a number of years, until he managed to mellow things out.
His life passed him by, and it felt like there was a piece of his soul missing the entire time. And, nothing truly meaningful happened until the day he met Jayce. Because that day was fated far before either of them even existed. Jayce was his destiny, their threads in the universe entwined. Soulmates always find each other somehow, and fate guided Viktor to Jayce once more.
The boy is shivering, near death, when Viktor finds him in the snow.
The storm hit yesterday, and the nearest town to his tower, Piltover, must have lost a few citizens during it. There is a woman and her young son, and he desperately tries to push through the snow with his small feet. He has a winter coat, but his face is red and puffy, eyelashes crusted with ice, cheeks with frozen tears. Viktor’s heart clenches in his chest painfully, that weak longing for a family running back through him– after his mother died, there was nobody left. He remained alone up in his tower. To imagine another child being orphaned is horrifying to Viktor, and the first thing he does is step closer.
But–
Right as he does, ice rushes through his veins, and he’s hit with a vision. The images flash by so fast he can only catch a few. He sees a young man in a suit, tears in his eyes; a gap-toothed tween holding a stack of books; a man close to his age in basic linens; and then it’s over.
He knows right then that this is an event that will change his life. Regardless, he does not hesitate to save the child and his mother. He keeps his hood drawn, refusing to show his face for fear of tampering with fate.
Viktor gives the boy a bracelet, and sees the reverence in his eyes when he takes it, the blue stone glowing with the remnants of magic.
“Keep it safe,” Viktor said.
He watches from afar as the family makes safe passage to Piltover. After that, he steps back, and allows time to flow.
He is patient.
Viktor is very, very patient. Years worth of patient. But he knows better than to tempt fate, and that these things take time. All will come, in due time.
But then Jayce Talis arrives on his doorstep on the first day of spring, as a gap-toothed teen holding a stack of books and wearing an awkwardly-fitting academy uniform, along with a familiar bracelet around his wrist, a blue gem shining brightly.
“Hello, Mage Viktor,” the boy says seriously, his still slightly pudgy face equally stony. “I wish to study with you.”
“Is that so?” Viktor bites back a grin, instead offering a small smile and stepping back to allow Jayce to enter. He can’t remember the last time he had a guest– the tower’s first floor is a mess of typical domesticity, but the upstairs is magical chaos. The boy strides in, and as Viktor leads him through the tower, he takes a deep breath and immediately begins a seemingly rehearsed tirade.
“Thank you, yes. My name is Jayce Talis, son of Ximena of House Talis. I just turned fourteen, and I am now eligible for apprenticeship, and Dean Heimer said you were the very best in magic. So, I was at the top of my class at–”
“Jayce,” Viktor gently interrupts him, now holding a cup of tea. He hands it to Jayce, who takes it, his brows raised in surprise. Viktor sits down on the couch, and pats the space beside him. Jayce tentatively approaches, and takes the seat with obvious nervousness.
“There’s no need for you to explain yourself. I have heard from Heimerdinger already, and I accept.” Viktor reaches over to the chest he usually keeps as a table, and opens it to pull out a small journal. He hands it to Jayce, who stares at it reverently before opening it.
“It’s empty,” he notices.
“Yes. You shall use it for our studies. I hope to be a good mentor to you, Jayce.”
Jayce looks up at Viktor with the biggest, most starry eyes he’s ever seen, his face filled with pure awe.
“Thank you,” he breathes.
Viktor does not feel bad about the white lies contained within. He does not have any contact with Heimerdinger anymore, but is glad the man still holds respect for his abilities. And, of course, he knows full well who Jayce is regardless. He spent years resisting checking in on him, or searching for him in the village. Viktor can feel the magic prickling under his skin when he starts to get close to something going wrong, and every time he even starts to indulge one of those tempting thoughts, the buzz appears.
The expression on Jayce’s face makes every second of waiting worth it already.
And Viktor knows there’s still a while to go. Jayce is fourteen, and he is nearing forty-five. He’s not sure what exactly Jayce is meant to do, but he is sure that the boy will change the world. At least all of Piltover– and certainly, all of Viktor.
Jayce is brilliant.
Viktor expected this. He expected this pull to result in something important, and discovering Jayce’s genius is most certainly a part of that. Jayce will do great things one day. And until then, it is Viktor’s job to guide him towards them.
Jayce sucks up every bit of knowledge Viktor is willing to give him, and then some. He frequently walks in the door on days without lessons, toting a satchel of heavy books or a creation of his, wanting to learn more, always more. He is naturally curious about the entire world, and seems happy to rediscover things that have changed. He especially loves to learn about Viktor. Viktor generally tries to keep things away from getting too personal, but Jayce is persistent above all else. He wheedles bits of information out of Viktor over the years, and soon knows of his happy but impoverished childhood, the tragedies of death and physical deterioration he has faced, and everything in between.
Jayce also ends up furthering Viktor’s own studies and knowledge of magic. Having a second perspective, someone so much different and so young, makes a valuable addition to his arsenal. Jayce is also able to fashion him a pair of braces, which he initially rejects, but they ultimately improve his quality of life so much he keeps them.
But the inevitable beginning of puberty marks a rough time for Viktor’s relationship with Jayce.
The mood swings are obvious, but so is the physical growth. Jayce shoots up to over six feet by the time of his seventeenth birthday, and he begins to work in his family’s forge, trained by his mother. Therefore, he starts wolfing food down like he was dying of starvation, and quickly builds out, his strength obvious in his figure. He’s also incredibly clingy, finding a million reasons to come visit Viktor.
And, of course, the sudden appearance of a sex drive. An obvious one.
The first time Viktor notices it is when Jayce hugs him, and he feels the press of an erection against his hip. Jayce pulls away, and doesn't even seem to be cognizant of it, because he immediately begins yapping away about some astronomy he’d been learning about. Viktor does not make anything of this. He's changing, and this is normal, nothing for him to read into.
Unfortunately, that is not the end of it.
Viktor is taking a nap, and he rouses to find the room empty and quiet. He feels someone’s presence near the house, a familiar one, so he wanders out, getting halfway down the stairs before he spots Jayce out of the corner of his eye.
He’s outside kneeling beside the well, mostly blocked by a bush and the laundry hanging to dry. Viktor takes another two steps down, despite every part of his brain telling him not to for some reason.
He gasps.
Jayce’s trousers are around his ankles, his hand is around his cock, and he’s clutching a pair of Viktor’s silk drawers in his other fist.
“Viktor–” Jayce groans as he thrusts into his hand, and that is when Viktor regains his faculties and realizes he has to leave.
But he's glued to his spot, so the best he can do is look away. It doesn't help much– he can still clearly hear Jayce’s grunts and panting, the little noises he occasionally lets slip, and worst of all, words.
Of course Jayce can't stop running his mouth, even when he's by himself. There's a constant stream of partial nonsense under his breath. And of course he doesn't know how to be quiet,
“Viktor yes yes please I’ll be good I need it you’re so beautiful I–” Jayce finally cuts himself off with a gasp, and Viktor can't take it anymore. He goes to wander around his bedroom aimlessly for nearly an hour, before returning to a perfectly peppy and typical Jayce.
But despite the incidents, Jayce remains incredibly productive. He learns Viktor’s new complicated book organization system in a week, how to safely handle and study runes, and exactly where Viktor holds a spot of tension in his back.
And yet, that is exactly when things go so terribly wrong.
“This nearly sticks out– that must hurt!” Jayce says sympathetically as he digs his fingers in, and Viktor winces, before letting out a huff. He throws a hand up against the wall, his head dipping, and while one of Jayce’s hands goes to his waist, the other continues to press into the knot, forcing the blood to flow and allowing the various muscle relaxant potions Viktor uses to sink in. The tension eases, and Viktor lets out an honest groan.
“That feels so much better,” he mumbles, before his head clears and he manages to stand back up. The boy is already eye-level with him, and his cheeks are red, a shy smile on his face.
“I’m glad,” he replies, and his hand moves down to match the other around Viktor’s waist. His smile is still shy, nervous, but he steps closer and gently presses Viktor up against the wall again.
“You sound really nice, like that,” he says softly, and his voice is shaking. “It makes me want to touch you more.”
“Jayce,” Viktor scolds immediately in a whisper. He pushes back, but Jayce has continued to grow stronger while Viktor grows weaker; he’s unable to escape his grasp, and Jayce’s chin hooks over his shoulder.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to be close to you,” Jayce whispers, and Viktor’s heart is racing as his hands are taken with easy strength and maneuvered like a puppet's. Jayce places his palms flat on the wall, elbows bent, and steps closer, the lines of their bodies fitting together.
Viktor is deeply ashamed that he feels himself growing wet between his thighs, as well as his eyes clouding with tears.
“Viktor?” Jayce asks, and he’s still just standing there, passively pressing Viktor into the wall. He rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder fully, and releases a happy hum. His breath softly ghosts over Vikor’s neck. He’s so warm.
Without warning, an invisible current yanks Jayce back by his middle, Viktor gritting his teeth and turning around. Between the chaos and using his magic, he’s suddenly exhausted, and he slumps all the way down to the floor. Jayce is panting too, flat on his back, thankfully having landed on Viktor’s bed.
It takes Jayce less time to catch his breath, but he just sits up halfway. He stares at Viktor, utterly shocked, until Viktor manages to huff and stand up, grabbing for his staff. He ambles over to the bed, eyes trained on Jayce, whose own gaze darts around frantically.
“Don't you dare do that again,” he hisses. “Ever. The consequences will be severe.”
Jayce stares back at him finally, eyes wide and shining with tears, and he visibly swallows.
“I’m so sorry, Viktor,” Jayce whispers, sounding almost horrified at his own words, or maybe his own actions. “I will never– never, I’m so sorry–”
“I know you are emotional,” Viktor says gently. “And therefore, you are a very sweet boy. But this is an issue of boundaries, Jayce. We must have those.”
“I’m sorry,” Jayce repeats, and it does sound genuine. He’s shifted onto his knees, hands folding in his lap, fingers moving restlessly.
“You’re just– everything to me,” he continues. “I hate seeing you in pain, and I want to be close to you all the time.”
This is the day Viktor both dreamed of and feared his entire life. Jayce is deeply, deeply attached to him, in far more than simply a mentorship, familial, or at least platonic bond. Jayce wants him.
But does he? Does he really? At his age, with his level of self-isolation from his peers, he likely only sees family most of the time. And, Viktor. Viktor is the first available person who has shown interest in him and been patient. There is nothing particularly special about Viktor himself; this is a hole of least resistance scenario.
The universe must be testing him. Testing to see if he can hold back, repress basal urges to forge on and keep their bond pure.
“I care deeply for you, Jayce,” he ends up saying. Jayce's face doesn't change; he doesn’t look either disappointed or excited.
“I shall not let this sully our day. Come help me translate these, hm?” Viktor turns and heads for his desk, shuffling the scrolls around. Jayce comes up behind him, but quickly steps to the side.
This is how it’s supposed to be, Viktor mentally chants in three languages.
That night, hidden under the depths of his blankets, he rides his own fingers and muffles his cries into his pillows. All he can think of is Jayce.
The day Viktor feared would come begins with a bang. A literal bang– specifically, his front door slamming shut, and then stomping footsteps up the staircase. Viktor is cleaning up from the week’s studies, carefully attending to his bookshelves to preserve their order, Jayce enters the room, utterly fuming. His face is flushed, eyes watering, fists clenched at his sides, and with no context, he starts to pace.
“Engaged,” Jayce spits. “Engaged. My mother is forcing me to get married.”
The words ring in his ears over and over.
This was bound to happen. But it still makes Viktor’s stomach churn with discomfort at the idea of losing his time with Jayce. Even so, he is a mentor. And he must follow time’s flow as it comes.
“Well, you are nearly twenty. Quite past the age for the typical young bachelor,” Viktor replies as calmly as he can, keeping his eyes on the books. “This was bound to happen eventually.”
“I don’t want to get married to Ambessa Medarda! I want to fall in love,” Jayce huffs.
“That’s unfortunately not a luxury most have,” Viktor says, but his voice is sympathetic, and he turns to put a consoling hand on Jayce’s shoulder. Marrying a Medarda makes sense– they are a politically important family, as well as being incredibly wealthy, and if Jayce wants to keep his mother living comfortably, this is likely the best possible option. However, Ambessa Medarda is… widely feared. Her daughter is surely of age by now, and Viktor can’t comprehend why it wasn’t her, but not everything makes sense as it happens. He decides to further comfort Jayce the best he can.
“You can become allies, if nothing else. Many marriages are political, but comfortable, aren’t they?”
“I guess.” Jayce shrugs off his hand, and he reaches out to help Viktor stack the books back up, but with enough force to knock over the pile he just built. Lately he’s struggled to estimate his own strength, which has grown significantly with his working in the forge so often.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair and turning away. He is, as usual, sincerely apologetic. Viktor sighs softly.
“Love is not required to live. I am not married, am I? And I do not have anyone regardless. But I am content,” he says.
“You have me,” Jayce immediately responds, making Viktor pause.
“Well, of course.” He swallows, and Jayce’s earnest face continues to make it impossible to brush him away the way Viktor should. This crush may have gone too far. “It will all be just fine. Don’t worry. Time will flow as it should.”
Jayce keeps his gaze trained on Viktor for a moment too long, before finally looking away, staring a hole into the floor as they silently stack books. His presence beside Viktor is warm, and he can smell the forge’s soot and specks of metalsmoke.
Viktor wishes he could tell Jayce the truth. Because Jayce really is all he has.
It’s fine, Viktor reminds himself as Jayce walks out the door, fresh-picked flowers in hand as he heads to his date. Each is arranged for him far in advance, making Jayce sullen the entire day of, pouting while doing chores.
This is good for him, Viktor repeats mentally when he sees the glint of an engagement ring on Jayce’s hand. It’s tasteful, and Viktor politely compliments the ring. Jayce doesn’t respond.
This is how it is supposed to be, Viktor internally yells as he sees the wedding date circled on the monthly calendar. It’s labelled simply with ‘wedding’. Jayce seemed completely unenthused the entire way through, nearly three months of moping and misery. Viktor doesn’t judge him for that– he does not envy Jayce’s situation. He was lucky enough to have escaped arranged marriage, by nature of being such a worthless candidate. So he tries to be encouraging, and reminds Jayce how fun the day of will be.
“It’ll be miserable,” Jayce laments as he stacks books. He’s taken to assisting more around the tower– as Viktor grows older, he can’t use as much of his magic to take care of the daily aches and pains without exhausting himself.
“There will be a spectacular banquet, I’m sure. And plenty of alcohol. You’re nearly old enough to have some, aren’t you?” Viktor says, even though he knows full well that even since Jayce’s birthday passed this summer, he was past the age to be allowed into the town pub.
Jayce purposefully looks over his shoulder with a half-glare, as he does any time Viktor mentions his age. “Of course I am, come on. And there’s not enough ale in the world to make that day fun,” he grumbles.
The wedding preparations seem to drag on for eternity. Every time Viktor thinks he has escaped hearing of the event, it somehow is mentioned. The wedding is the talk of the town, unsurprisingly– a marriage into the Medarda family is a big deal, politically, socially, and monetarily. So the locals are obsessed with the gossip. Viktor tries to block anything he hears in passing when he goes through town, but it is truly inevitable.
As the day draws closer, Jayce visibly worsens. He grows snappy and irritated, constantly running off to go to the Forge, presumably to work his anger out. There’s a general air of doom hanging over him like a storm cloud, and Viktor’s own body is not enjoying the time either. The miserable, worried knot in his stomach continues to tangle, while the supposed angel on his shoulder victoriously cries this is how it’s supposed to be.
Viktor is the one who helps Jayce dress for the rehearsal dinner. His hands shake as he ties Jayce’s tie, and neither mentions it. His hands slide down Jayce’s front, coming to rest on his hips, and he conjures up the beaming pride he does feel and lets it show on his face.
They have known each other for many years now, and Viktor has known Jayce for longer than he realizes. He has seen the growth and change, the way Jayce has made hard choices, sacrificed himself for others, worked until his fingers bled, showed compassion when no one else did.
“You have grown into a fine young man, Jayce,” Viktor says, looking up at him with all the reverence he normally hides. Jayce looks back down at him stonily for a moment. But his resolve cracks almost immediately, and he ducks his head, bottom lip wobbling. Viktor shushes him, pulling him into a hug, guiding his head onto Viktor’s shoulder as tears begin to fall.
“I don't want to do this,” he blubbers. “I can't leave you, I don't even know her, I’m so scared and I didn't practice this awful speech and–”
Viktor shushes him until he finally gasps for air, a hand finding his lower back and rubbing comforting circles.
“This is just the rehearsal dinner. It’s mostly getting the new paintings done, alcohol, and learning each other’s family gossip,” Viktor says, and Jayce snickers through a sob.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers, burying his nose into Viktor’s long hair, and it has him swallowing back the lump in his throat.
“I’ll still be here. You can visit me, same as always.”
Jayce shakes his head, and he slowly pulls away, rubbing tears away from his eyes quickly. Viktor’s heart still breaks for him, and as the seconds tick by, the end draws nearer. Viktor finds comfort in fate, in knowing how things will go. Surely Jayce can accept that, too.
“You knew this was inevitable, didn't you?” He says, reaching out to smooth creases from Jayce’s suit. Jayce shrugs.
“That doesn't make it any easier.”
Viktor sighs, pulling his hands away, and begins twisting a lock of hair between his fingers thoughtlessly.
“You always do that,” Jayce says with a sniffle. “Fuss with your hair. Make it all knotted up on the ends.”
Viktor’s hand freezes, suddenly self-conscious of the habit.
“It’s cute,” Jayce adds.
Viktor doesn’t know what to say. He could chastise Jayce, or ignore him, or indulge him– he just can’t tell what fate wanted him to do. What is the right choice here?
“It’s time to go,” Jayce ends up saying before he decides. Their goodbye hug is stiff. Viktor retires to his bedroom with unshed tears in his eyes, until they finally fall onto the pages of the spellbook he’s revising. The ink bleeds, and his stomach churns with guilt and annoyance.
It’s only about three hours before his self-distractions stop working; the usual methods of cleaning, reading, or meditating don’t help, so he ends up getting ready for bed early. He’s fresh out of the bath, wrapped in his thin summer robe, when there’s several knocks at the door.
Unsure, Viktor meanders over to the entrance, opening the door cautiously right as another desperate series of knocks come.
Jayce is standing on his doorstep, still dressed in his suit from earlier. It’s partially askew, and he’s out of breath, clearly just having run from somewhere.
“I can’t do it,” Jayce whispers, his eyes brimming with tears, hands shaking. Viktor stands there in shock for just a moment, but when Jayce moves to step inside, he puts a hand on Jayce’s chest.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the dinner? Jayce, what–”
“I can’t do it,” Jayce repeats, firmer this time. “I can’t marry her, Viktor, I can’t.”
“You have to.” Viktor tries to keep his voice firmer than usual. He’s standing here in his robe across from Jayce in his suit, and he feels so out of control, but he has to regain it somehow.
“I–” Jayce cuts himself off with some sort of half sigh, half growl.
“Jayce, what has gotten into you?”
“This isn’t right. I don’t want to marry her.”
Viktor sighs himself, looking to the ground. He pulls his robe around his shoulders. “Most people do not marry someone they want to. You knew this would happen eventually, did you not?”
“She’s awful, Viktor, she’s terrifying and mean and manipulative, I can’t do it. It’s just not fair.”
This argument, of fairness and justice, has become such a frustrating topic with Jayce that Viktor snaps. He’s tired, secretly heartbroken, old, and ultimately alone. Fuck the universe.
He needs to cut the rope.
“Life is not fair. You sound like a spoiled brat,” Viktor spits, and it’s too cold, he regrets every word the second it leaves his mouth. Jayce’s eyes widen, still shiny, but the tears never spill. He sniffs, staring back at Viktor with the sort of intensity that makes fire burn in his own chest.
“I love you,” Jayce says, his voice shaking and cracking midway through.
Viktor stands there, mouth agape, as Jayce turns around and stalks away.
Viktor does not hear a word about Jayce’s disappearance during the banquet– from Jayce, or anyone knocking at his door to cast him out for it. He doesn’t hear a word from Jayce at all. So the night of the wedding, Viktor is laying in bed, reviewing spells. His eyes just keep glazing over, reading the same runes again and again, and all he can see in his mind is the ring on Jayce’s finger, his hurt face, the last three words he yelled at Viktor.
None of it feels good. And the distraction of choice isn’t working, so Viktor goes and uncorks one of the red wines gathering dust in a cabinet. He changes into his robe, the pretty white thing he never wears, tying it carefully around his neck. He stares at himself in the washroom mirror. The grey in his hair, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the way the fabric drapes off his narrow frame. All undesirable. All imperfect. All not enough. Not enough to be wed. Never enough to be with somebody like Jayce.
Just as he’s pouring a glass, there’s a creak behind him. Shifting of weight on the floorboards.
“Your teleportation rune skills have improved significantly,” Viktor says carefully. He tops off his glass and sets the bottle aside, before turning and taking a sip.
“No. You just left your window open, and forgot I’m a good climber,” Jayce corrects with a sheepish smile. He’s in his suit, but his wedding robes aren’t over his shoulders, and he looks exhausted. Viktor takes every detail in, but he doesn’t really process any of it.
“What do you want, Jayce?”
“I want you.”
“You know this cannot happen. There– there is no this,” Viktor mutters. “You need to go.”
“Please, Viktor,” Jayce says, so softly Viktor barely hears it. He wraps his arms around himself, turning with a swish. He picks up the glass of wine and takes a long sip, letting the nutty taste linger on his tongue and distract him for a moment longer.
The window quietly shuts, but Viktor knows Jayce’s presence hasn’t left. He can still feel the charge in the air, even catch the whiff of soot and metal clinging to his skin.
A hand brushes his shoulder, the touch soft but electric, as always. Viktor turns back to him, and Jayce bends down on one knee.
“Viktor,” he starts.
“Jayce, what–”
“Just let me try,” Jayce whispers, reaching up to clutch at Viktor’s robe desperately, the soft fabric gathering in his fists. Viktor brushes his hand away, but doesn’t speak.
“Viktor, the only person I want to stand beside on an altar is you. The only person I want to vow to share my life with is you. You think you’re not worth it, but you are everything to me. You are beauty, and intelligence, and wisdom, and kindness. You are what I want. I am choosing you.”
His hand shakes as he lets go of Viktor’s robe, and he holds up a gold band between two fingers.
“Please. Marry me.”
Viktor stares down at him, his eyes brimming with tears. For once in his life, someone is choosing him. Jayce is choosing him over everything else. Every societal expectation, every outside pressure, every ounce of logic– he’s leaving them behind for Viktor. Who has spent his life waiting for something abstract, but his soulmate is now kneeling at his feet.
How could he deny himself this any longer?
“Yes,” Viktor whispers, so quietly he’s not even sure he’s spoken at first.
But Jayce catches it, and he reaches up.
Viktor carefully extends his hand, and allows Jayce to slide the band on his ring finger. It’s far too large, so Jayce sheepishly moves it to his thumb, where it sits, glittering.
Jayce just stares up at him, seemingly breathless, until Viktor reaches out and cups his cheek.
“It was always going to be you, Jayce,” he murmurs. “Wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Jayce whispers back, and his arms wrap around Viktor’s legs as he lets out a weak sob. Viktor finally notices the tears sparkling in his eyes, barely held back, but Jayce finally lets them go. Viktor swipes them away with his thumb.
“It’s alright, darling. We’re here now.” He withdraws his hand just enough for Jayce to bury his face into Viktor’s middle, and he can feel the tears soaking through to his skin. Viktor strokes his hair, and shushes him.
“Come on, up with you.” Viktor offers his hand once again, and Jayce sniffles, the glint of the ring visibly makes him swallow back another sob. Jayce takes it, standing up on shaky legs, and allows Viktor to guide him to the bed. It’s only once they’re both carefully seated that Jayce says something.
“May I kiss you?”
The nervousness and hope in the waver of his voice has Viktor’s chest glowing with warmth. Never before in his life has someone wanted him with such honesty. He’s almost sure no one has wanted him before this ever.
“Of course you may,” Viktor replies, and when all he gets is a deep flush on Jayce’s cheeks, he leans in himself.
Jayce manages to close the distance, and the moment their lips touch, something clicks into place in Viktor’s soul. There’s an electric current between them, and he isn’t sure if it’s magic or just a phantom sensation, but it has Viktor running his hands up Jayce’s back to feel the sparks. Jayce’s bury in his hair, scratching against his scalp as he desperately tries to get closer. The fabric of his suit is surprisingly smooth against Viktor’s skin, his own robe sliding down his shoulder in their movements, and Jayce finally pulls back with a shaky breath.
“I can do that again, right?” He whispers, their faces mere inches apart, and Viktor chuckles before falling back on the bed, and dragging Jayce with him. He lands on Viktor with a grunt before shifting back onto his knees, and he sheds his jacket and tie with scrabbling, desperate hands. When he refocuses, his gaze lands on Viktor; he lays there contently, hair lightly streaked with grey cascading over his shoulders, robe now down his shoulders but not all the way open.
“You're a wonder,” Jayce says breathlessly.
“Well, I just hope to make this more pleasant than your expected wedding night,” Viktor replies.
Jayce smiles, and shakes his head. “This is always what I expected.” He leans down to kiss Viktor, much more confidently this time, but he’s still gentle. Obviously there’s a natural nervousness in him.
Viktor slides his hands up Jayce’s back, before shifting to undo his shirt buttons, pushing the fabric aside so he can run his hands up and down his bare chest. His skin is warm, torso strong and soft and dusted faintly with hair, now. He is so different from the young boy he once was, and yet, the look of wonder and excitement in his eyes as Viktor pulls his trousers down is the same.
“We will go slowly, yes?” Viktor reassures him, and Jayce seems to break out of a near trance with a nod. He leans down to kiss Viktor’s neck, and then latches onto one collarbone, teeth scraping against the skin and making Viktor yelp.
“Careful.” He tugs lightly on Jayce’s hair, and gets a responding apologetic whimper of some sort. It’s enough, and Viktor moves his hand to pet Jayce’s hair instead. Jayce’s focus shifts, and he zeroes in on Viktor’s bare chest, stopping and just resting his head there with a sigh.
“Content, are we?” Viktor teases, and Jayce just hums appreciatively at first, before turning his head and mouthing over one of Viktor’s nipples. He gets an immediate reaction, which is Viktor moaning and arching into his mouth without hesitation. The sensation is too wonderful to resist, the wet warmth around the sensitive bud.
“Just like that– yes, keep going, you can suck, it’s alright,” Viktor soothes through panting, and Jayce dives back in to start using his tongue– Viktor melts. The pleasure is liquid lava in his stomach, the suction tight enough to squeeze and rub just right, it’s all overwhelming in the best way. Just like Jayce.
Jayce pulls away, and Viktor fights off a whine in his throat at the loss, but it’s only momentary as Jayce moves to give the other nipple equal treatment. His hand finds its way up to Viktor’s chest, and he cups one small breast in his palm, thumb brushing over Viktor’s now reddened and hard nipple. It’s enough to make him cry out and reach down, fumbling for Jayce’s underwear without his previous hesitation.
With his scrabbling, Jayce releases Viktor’s nipple with a soft wet sound, which has Viktor clenching his thighs together as he feels a desperate throb run through him. He hasn’t felt like this… ever, even as a hormonal teenager. He can barely even remember that time, but he never felt like this, that’s for sure.
“I thought you said slow,” Jayce teases this time, but he’s flushed and panting as much as Viktor is, and he clearly knows that. Viktor lets out a breathless laugh, and he spreads his legs as Jayce finally removes his underclothes, his cock hard and leaking at the tip. He swallows, and when his eyes return to Viktor, his cock visibly throbs. It’s gratifying for to see, sending a mutual throb of arousal straight to his core, and he watches as Jayce’s hands tremble while lining himself up.
“Relax, Jayce,” Viktor murmurs, reaching up to cup his cheek with one hand and brushing Jayce’s attempt away with the other. He carefully guides the tip of Jayce’s cock into his entrance, and Jayce sucks in a harsh breath above him as the head slides inside. It’s been quite a while since anything has been inside of him, so there’s a stretch, but Viktor only sighs as Jayce pushes all the way in.
“You’re so warm,” Jayce breathes out, clearly stunned, and Viktor can’t help but smile and bring him down for a kiss. Jayce’s hips stutter in response, but he begins to work up a rhythm, his strong hips helping make up for any jerky eagerness.
Viktor has the urge to close his eyes and completely lose himself in the fulfillment and pleasure of the moment, but he keeps them open out of the desire to remember this forever. Jayce’s face is a mixture of focus and desperation, sweat beading on his temples, and there’s and underlying love and devotion that Viktor can simply sense.
“Do you believe in soulmates?” Jayce manages to ask through panting, and Viktor’s heart clenches in his chest.
“Yes– yes, I do–” Viktor gasps in response.
“I think you’re my soulmate, Viktor. In some– some way.”
Viktor grabs his shoulders and pulls him down, burying his head in Jayce’s neck with a desperate cry. There’s tears beading in his eyes, the pleasure building endlessly down below as Jayce’s thrusts have evened out and angled just right, and Jayce shifts so two fingers can rub circles over his clit.
“I’m very close, Jayce, keep going, please,” he begs shamelessly, no longer caring about anything else but them, right now, here together, souls and bodies entwined.
“I love you,” Jayce says brokenly, but it’s different than the first time, full of joy and overwhelming neediness. Viktor’s nails scrape over his skin, desperate to be as close as possible as everything builds to release. This climax isn’t like anything he’s experienced before, it’s his entire body full of sparks and his thighs trembling and his cunt clenching over and over around Jayce’s cock, which fills him with a warmth he can’t comprehend. The moan he lets out is a long “ah,” trailing off into nothing as the world goes fuzzy.
He feels full still, and very sticky between his thighs. Life is in a pleasant haze, and while there’s an ache in his abdomen and a chill in the air, he’s content.. Viktor’s hand lazily reaches for the bedside table, before giving up and sending a towel flying across the room and onto his feet. Jayce takes it, and he sets it aside before spreading Viktor’s legs and cleaning up the mess himself.
His tongue is talented in ways Viktor does not expect from his inexperience, but perhaps his sheer enthusiasm for shoving his entire face into Viktor’s cunt is what does the job. Viktor has to push his head away after another.
“I am not as young as you anymore,” he reminds Jayce with a wry smile as he finally relents and pulls Viktor close to tuck the two of them in.
“I know. I like you how you are, okay?” Jayce looks at him with unexpected seriousness, and Viktor has to pull his gaze away before nuzzling back into the comforting crook of his neck.
“There will be consequences for all of this. The wedding, the two of us…” Viktor mumbles, chewing on his bottom lip. One hand comes up to twist two long strands of grey together, and Jayce’s chest vibrates with a hum.
“It’ll be alright. We’ll make it through together. Find somewhere better to live,” Jayce suggest hopefully. He seems to be bracing for rejection again, just in case, but Viktor merely smiles.
“Yes. Somewhere we can be together.”
Finally. Together. Viktor shuts his eyes. Something in the universe is content with this, some power above. But most importantly, Viktor will find a way to keep living, and Jayce will stay with him. That is what matters now– not fate.