Chapter Text
The cabin they've rented is… nice.
It's an extension of the local inn and marketed as some kind of holiday location. There's a campsite closer to town with more cabins, but this one is secluded. The honeymoon package, apparently. That's what Jayce had told him, preemptively explaining away the one bed before Viktor could ask. As if it would matter to him. As if they haven't often shared a bed from almost the beginning of their partnership.
Viktor… appreciates the secluded-ness. But he does still worry that someone will wander too far up the path and see him, so he mostly stays inside. Regardless of where he is there's nothing much to do except sit, anyway. And think.
Jayce is gone.
All the way back to Piltover.
He was like a man possessed as he got himself ready to leave. All the way up to when he actually had to step through the door. Then he froze.
He stands at a lean now, trying to take the pressure off of his injured leg. Viktor knows what that kind of compensation does to the rest of the body, but he couldn't bring himself to point it out then. He couldn't bring himself to say anything—not even to question why Jayce hadn't left yet.
At least, not until Jayce had turned around—sweetly hesitant—and asked, "Will you… be here when I get back?"
His reply of yes had sounded without any input from his brain, but even after days of waiting he can't bring himself to change his mind. He will stay here until Jayce returns, even if he is very certain that Jayce won't return. Not unless he decides he wants Viktor executed after all.
It's a long walk back to Piltover, but it is, fortunately, an established route. Maybe Jayce was able to catch a ride in someone's cart—the most difficult part about this distance is not being able to confirm he's okay.
He can feel something, though. Some leftover thread pulsing between them. The further away Jayce gets from him the more present it makes itself; an awful temptation.
He doesn't once tug at it. But with nothing else to do except sit and think, he does—for the lack of a better term—stare at it.
As long as the thread is unbroken, Jayce is alive. And Viktor has to trust that he is also safe. Viktor has to trust that Jayce will keep himself alive long enough to make it back to Piltover, where he will—hopefully, if everything turned out alright—have doctors and a support system.
Viktor has to trust that the most suicidal man he's ever met will be okay because the last time he meddled with people's lives he got them functionally killed. Because he can still remember that husk corpse of Jayce kneeling in front of a different version of him, and he cannot let that happen to his Jayce.
So, he sits. And he thinks. And sometimes he stands to stare out the window, and sometimes he walks aimlessly around the house. And he keeps half his mind on that faint, golden thread signalling Jayce's survival and refuses to look any deeper than that no matter how much he itches to. No matter how many false visions he gets of Jayce collapsed and dying somewhere, waiting for him to come and save him.
Ironic, isn't it? He was the one with the terminal illness, and yet he's spent his entire partnership with Jayce obsessing over the likelihood of Jayce's early demise. And now he is no longer terminally ill—something beyond death entirely—and yet he still hasn't escaped this fear.
So, he sits. And he tries not to think. And he paces. And he waits for Jayce to come back to him. An endless repetitive purgatory that may as well be the afterlife he deserves; timeless in the sense he has no idea how much time is passing, but can still feel every second ticking by.
He's on the couch when he hears the uneven thud of footsteps on the porch. A distantly familiar panic slices through him—as this must be the innkeeper coming to reset the place for the next guest—but he's too slow to move. The door swings open and—
—Jayce.
"You're still here," Jayce says, sounding equally surprised to see him.
"You came back."
"Of course I did, I—" Jayce takes a step forward on his injured leg. It buckles under him a little and he cuts himself off with a wince.
"Here, come sit on the couch."
Viktor pats the space next to him, then watches carefully as Jayce closes the door behind himself and makes his way over. The opalescent marks on his forehead have refused to fade, but at least the bruising on his neck is barely-there now. Viktor is sure he can only see it because he knows to look for it. Or maybe he'll never stop seeing it.
Jayce leans his walking stick up against the couch and sits down with a sigh. He's tired. Viktor doesn't know what to say, and maybe he shouldn't say anything. Maybe Jayce just wants to rest.
"Were you okay here?" Jayce asks quietly.
"Yes." He hesitates. But curiosity has always gotten the better of him. "How was Piltover?"
"It's a mess. But the people you… evolved at the end are all fine. All, uh… reversed, or whatever. Same with Zaun." Another sigh. "Sorry I took so long, they didn't want me to leave."
Jayce should've stayed there. He's not sure why Jayce didn't stay. It's not like Viktor can offer him much. Not as he is now, and certainly not here.
"It's okay," He says instead. "How's your mother?"
"Fine." Jayce wipes a weary hand over his face and sinks back into the couch. "Fine as she can be after her son disappeared twice and told her he's leaving again."
"You… didn't have to come back so soon."
"I wanted to," Jayce says simply, unaware or uncaring of what the words would do to Viktor's somehow still existing heart. "Besides, no time would've been the right time. Mel needs to leave for Noxus soon, I wanted to—to, um… set things up here. With you. Because once she's gone, I'll need to step in for a bit."
"Is it… good she's going to Noxus?"
It's almost absurd that he has spent the past however long hoping desperately that Jayce is still alive and now, within seconds of getting him back, they are engaging in small talk.
Except it's not small talk exactly. It's all the reasons Jayce had to go back. All the reasons he should've stayed away.
"Good for international relations? Sure. For Mel? Probably… not. Ambessa's dead."
"Oh."
"Yeah. She's not… I want to see her again before she leaves. Should be in, um… a few weeks?"
"Why don't you go with her?"
"Bad for domestic relations." Jayce sighs. "We don't even know if they'll accept her, she's been in Piltover so long… bringing another Piltovan Councillor probably won't look good."
"I see."
"Besides, Noxus is, uh… far. I don't know how we'd get you there, assuming you'd even want to go."
"If you're worried I'll start evolving people again—"
"No, no, that's not—Viktor." Jayce grabs his hand, and he forces himself not to flinch away. "I'm not monitoring you. You're my partner. I'm here because I want to be with you."
Pretty words. Despite everything, Jayce always had a way with them.
"Yes, well… don't let it, eh… hold you back from your life." He turns his hand over to squeeze Jayce's before drawing away. "How's Caitlyn?"
Jayce doesn't answer straight away. His brow furrows, eyes staring almost unseeingly in the general direction their hands were. Viktor, for his own sake, chalks it up to Jayce's last point of focus being naturally drawn to movement. The answer to the question must be complex, for him to be mulling it over this long.
"Healing, but okay," Jayce murmurs, eyes flicking back up to Viktor's face. "We didn't get a lot of time to talk."
"Maybe next time," Viktor offers absently.
"Maybe…"
They sit in silence, and Viktor tries not to shift restlessly. He was coming to terms with the fact that he'd never see Jayce again, and now Jayce is just… here. Right next to him.
Viktor wants to hold him tight and never let him go.
"You must be tired," Viktor says instead. "Please rest, if you'd like. I will be right here when you wake."
"Later. If I don't shower soon I fear I may crawl out of my skin."
He tries to say it like it's a joke, but his tone is off and his smile doesn't reach his eyes. It truly discomforts him to be unclean; Viktor is well aware of this fact now.
He's almost an inverse of how he was before all this mess. He'd keep himself waxed and shaved, and would cut his hair short, but he wouldn't care about the grease or soot stains on him. Now, he doesn't seem bothered to shave or cut his hair as much as he did previously, but the very presence of dirt bothers him deeply.
Still, Viktor remembers how disastrous his attempts at showers have been. Hopefully the ones in Piltover treated him better, but he doubts it.
"There's a creek nearby," Viktor offers. "Maybe bathing in that will help."
A bitter expression crosses Jayce's face, and his hand grips at the fabric of his pants—the area covering the thigh of his injured leg. Viktor isn't sure what to make of the reaction, but he doesn't get time to take the offer back. Jayce's expression smooths out into something neutral and he nods.
"That sounds pleasant."
The words curl in the air like something Viktor would expect to hear from him at a gala. It hurts. A little. He tries not to take it personally.
"Do you, eh… want me to accompany you?"
"Please."
Jayce is slow to rise and leans heavily on his walking stick once he does. Viktor leads the way, his steps cautious; both so he can make sure no one else is around, and so Jayce can keep up with him.
There's a few large rocks scattered around the edges of the creek. Jayce picks one to sit on and leans his walking stick up against it, then deposits a small bag next to him. He steadily works through undoing the straps at the top of the brace before pausing.
"Can you, um… can you get the rest?" Jayce asks, lifting his leg slightly out towards Viktor.
"Of course."
Viktor's own leg protests as he clambers to kneel in front of Jayce, and he shifts awkwardly until he's provided with some relief. He leans his staff up against the rock next to Jayce's own walking stick. The difference between them is stark. They need to get Jayce something proper—something nice.
Jayce winces when Viktor grabs his leg, and if even gentle external pressure is enough to cause pain it must truly be shattered. He steadfastly ignores the tempting shine of the fingerprints on Jayce's forehead begging him to strengthen that connection between them. Begging him to find out just how bad the breaks are and what he can do to help.
This is how he can help. Do what Jayce asks. Nothing more, nothing less.
He puts the brace gently to the side and startles to find that Jayce has already taken his top layers off and is starting to unbutton his pants. He pushes himself to his feet, turning around to give Jayce some privacy.
"Will you come in?" Jayce asks. "You don't have, uh, skin, I guess, but—I don't know."
"It wouldn't hurt me." Viktor tilts his head to the side, keeping Jayce out of vision but trying to show he's active in the conversation. "Do you want me to join you?"
"I just thought maybe you get dirty, too. I'm not familiar with…" Jayce trails off and sighs. Viktor can pick up on where the sentence was going, though. I'm not familiar with what you are now. "Either way, um… I might need some help getting settled."
"I'll help."
Viktor turns to face Jayce properly now—no point in making this harder than it needs to be and getting them both hurt. He tries not to let his gaze linger, but if Jayce is ashamed by his nakedness he doesn't show it. He just holds out a hand so Viktor can settle in by his side and help him into the water.
By the time Jayce is sitting, Viktor's lower half is wet so he sits down as well. The water has been warmed by the afternoon sun, which he appreciates for Jayce's sake. As Jayce basks, Viktor idly trails his fingers through the water, watching the ripples spread.
"I bought soap," Jayce murmurs. "It's in my bag."
"I can get it."
"Thank you."
So far this is going better than the shower, but it's not exactly sustainable. Wherever they go next they will need to make sure a bath is installed.
That thought slips into Viktor's mind as any practical thought would; that sort of future-proofing was something he was used to as a scientist. But the domesticity of it makes his whole body stutter—a stumbled step, his heart skipping a beat, and his train of thought abruptly crashing into a wall.
It is practical to assume they can't stay here forever. This is an extension of the inn. It's not a rented cottage.
It is entirely illogical to assume that Jayce would want to come with him to wherever he has to go next. No matter what Jayce says about the topic.
He remembers all those years ago sharing a hotel room in that small town with Jayce suggesting they stay there permanently. And he knows—just like he knew then—that Jayce is only clinging onto him because of the emotions clouding his mind.
Before, he was certain Jayce would have made the same offer to anyone who was with him. Now, it's a bit more complicated, but Viktor knows the underlying thought process is the same. Jayce went through hell. He's stressed and in shock. Once he's moved on from that, he'll surely be itching to return to his normal life; a life Viktor no longer fits into.
They don't have forever. Not because of terminal illnesses and untimely deaths, but because their lives have fundamentally shifted away from each other.
Viktor needs to keep this truth in mind if he has any hope of surviving the separation.
He will help Jayce heal, and he will cherish their time together, and he won't hold it against Jayce when he inevitably leaves and doesn't come back.
He hands the soap to Jayce and watches as he grimaces when he shifts to take it.
"I may need something waterproof," Jayce says.
"We can make something work, I'm sure."
Jayce hums noncommittally and starts scrubbing the dirt from his skin. His hands shake, and Viktor knows it's not due to any particular chill. Jayce's whole body seems to tremble sometimes, but his hands especially aren't as steady as they once were. He knows it frustrates Jayce, even though Jayce hasn't said anything about it.
They sit in silence together, until Jayce passes the soap back to him with a quiet request to clean his injured leg.
"I'm thinking I just get it amputated," Jayce murmurs.
Viktor pauses in his cleaning, before nodding slowly.
"I see."
"I don't know." Jayce sighs, short lived confidence draining from him. "I don't know anything about this kind of injury. My head hurts just trying to—to think about next steps. Pun, um… not intended."
Jayce's lips stretch into an empty smile, and Viktor can't help but play along with this failed attempt at normalcy by huffing out a quiet laugh.
"It's not something I'm familiar with, either," Viktor admits, ignoring the voice in his head insisting that he could be familiar with it. All he needs to do is—is to strip Jayce's entire essence from him. "Consulting a doctor would be best, I believe. Is it spreading?"
"Hm?"
"The, eh… arcane."
For clarity, he gently taps a finger against a patch of the arcane rot staining his skin. Jayce frowns.
"I don't know."
"Something to keep an eye on then, no? There are maybe a few different paths with the injury, but if the arcane is spreading… amputation might be best. We don't know what this is, exactly. It might hurt you if it gets further into your body."
"Great." Jayce drawls bitterly. "We'll have to cut off my hand while we're at it."
This is, of course, both of them ignoring the patches staining his back.
"Only if it spreads." It feels like hollow assurance. "Have you seen a doctor?"
"No. No time for it."
"Jayce."
"Oh, lay off it, Viktor. We're both terrible hypocrites, okay? My leg's been broken for half a year already, it won't kill me now. And the arcane… infection—if it is an infection—doctors won't know what to do about that."
"I'd like to think that we're in an era of learning from our past mistakes, Jayce. Maybe the doctors can't help with the arcane, but they likely can identify if it's harming you and provide bandaid solutions while we look for a proper cure, no?"
No time for it… Jayce may not take his own life, but he is attempting to work himself into an early grave, isn't he? What a fitting punishment for Viktor to be shoved onto this side of things; forced to feel intimately how his past actions would've hurt Jayce. It's a bittersweet silver lining that he can at least identify Jayce's unhealthy habits before it's too late.
"Jayce," Viktor continues, "you told me I can't help anyone if I'm dead. If you truly believe that sentiment, you'll prioritise your own health before it kills you."
Jayce crumples, hugging his uninjured leg to his chest so he can bury his face into his knee.
"I don't want to."
He says it quietly. Petulantly, with a touch of shame.
"I know."
"There's nothing for me now. Not once they don't need me anymore—as long as I live long enough to get them to that point…" Jayce trails off with a shrug.
"That's not true." Viktor is, for once, glad for the voice modulation as it hides the tremor in his voice. "You have people who care about you, let them—let us—help you."
"I'm tired, Viktor. Hextech… it was my whole life. I don't know who I am outside of it." Then, quieter, "I don't know if I care to find out."
It feels impossible to find the right thing to say. He has to say something.
"Can you please find out?" He debates his next words. For me. With me. "For us?"
Jayce doesn't respond for a long time.
Then, "Sure, V."
It's not the enthusiastic response he was hoping for, but it's enough for now.
Jayce finishes his bathing by washing his hair. Viktor itches to do it for him, but is still wary of touching him more than necessary—especially so close to the marks—and the movement doesn't seem to cause him any pain. Instead, Viktor sits in the relative silence the creek provides and waits.
Jayce clings onto him as they leave the water, and all the way back to the cabin, too. They get to the bathroom of the place, Jayce uncaring about the water they're tracking across the floors. He only lets go once he's situated on the closed toilet lid, towel in hand.
Viktor takes a moment to towel himself off, before returning to retrieve their belongings. Unnoticed earlier, he also takes the time to carry Jayce's other bags to the bedroom. By this point Jayce—now dry—has already relocated to the edge of the bed.
Viktor looks away as he gets dressed, but doesn't leave the room. Jayce doesn't ask him to.
"I'm going to nap," Jayce tells him. "Will you stay with me?"
Stupidly, Viktor asks, "Do you want me to?"
He can see the way Jayce's hesitation plays out across his face. The problem is, he's not sure how to fix it. Is it insecurity? Is he trying to come up with a polite way to take back his offer?
"Well," Jayce hesitates again, then soldiers on through. "I would. But I understand if you don't. Want to."
"I don't mind."
Jayce frowns.
"But do you want to?"
"Yes."
The word spills out of him so quickly that Jayce blinks, surprised.
"Okay." A small smile spreads across his face. "Uh… well…"
He shuffles under the covers, pulling them back for Viktor as well. Viktor walks to the other side of the bed and gets in. A pantomime of domesticity. The bed is big enough that they don't have to touch and so they don't.
They lie there for a while. The only breaks in silence being the rustling of sheets as Jayce shifts, and his subsequent wince from straining some part of his body. He's sleeping curled up, giving off the impression that he's hunched over into himself. Every now and then he paws at one side of his face—blunt fingernails digging into the skin around his eye and on his forehead. Viktor doesn't say anything for fear of disturbing him.
But eventually he must sleep. Because the movements die off, limited to only occasional twitches. Because a few hours later he wakes up, stretching out with a groan and blinking his eyes open.
Viktor has stayed still the entire time. His mind found new things to focus on, now that he doesn't have to worry about whether or not Jayce is alive.
"Good morning," Viktor says, even though it isn't morning.
"Did, um… I seriously sleep that long?"
"No. Sorry. It was only a few hours."
"Ah."
Jayce groans, and clutches at the side of his head. The nap hasn't seemed to help much. He's still shaking.
"Should I make you something to eat?"
He knows Jayce struggles when it comes to eating now—even moreso than he ever did before. Viktor isn't even sure he knows what he could make that would satisfy him
"Not yet." He swallows. "I just want to lie here. With you. For a little bit. Is that okay?"
"Yes."
"You know," he says quietly, like a confession, "I've had this headache. Maybe, um… a migraine, actually. It won't go away."
"Have you taken something for it?"
"Oh. Sure." Jayce's hand twitches, like he wanted to wave the question away, but stopped himself. "It's just… kind of funny, I guess. I thought about it sometimes down there. The fall didn't kill me. It might not have killed me back then, too."
It's not something Viktor particularly wants to think about.
"Maybe not."
"I had headaches all the time back then, too. I didn't want to worry you—even though I did, right? Frequently."
Yes.
"I didn't mind. You worried about me, I worried about you. A very efficient system, no?"
"I guess." Jayce is quiet for a while. Then, "Do you hate it now? I mean… you're so perfect, right? And I'm… not. I've fallen from grace, uh… by a lot. That's more than you signed up for. It's not really… reciprocal anymore, is it?"
"I'm, eh… not so perfect, either. My leg still hurts," he confesses.
"What?" Jayce's brow furrows. "Why didn't you tell me? You just let me—"
"Because your leg is shattered, and the gold parts are acting as a brace. I wasn't walking completely without assistance."
"Still."
"Jayce, it's fine. I just mean to tell you that… you're not alone." It strikes him that he has messed up. In his attempt to show solidarity and soothe Jayce's worries about being a burden, he's admitted that Jayce should still worry about him. Which he shouldn't. Because if his actions in the astral plane has taught Viktor anything, it's that Jayce will stay with him to the point of self harm. "But you, eh… don't need to worry about me, okay?"
The addition sounds awkward and clumsy to his own ears, and Jayce does not let it slide.
"Why not?"
"Because you have enough on your plate already, between Piltover and your loved ones."
"Right, which is why I'm—I'm splitting time between Piltover and you. Until, um… some permanent solution becomes clear, at least."
"I just… don't think it's a good idea."
There. Out in the open. Sooner than Viktor would've liked, but still. Jayce is a stubborn man and he doubts that he can convince him of anything in one conversation, but at least he can present his argument and trust that Jayce will consider it. If he still respects Viktor's opinions, that is.
"Viktor." And there is it—frustration born from stubbornness leaking into his voice. "Do you want me to have a future, or not? You're kind of sending mixed signals here."
"Of course I want you to have a future, it's just that… your mind is not clear right now."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Jayce sits up, wincing as he goes. Viktor sits up as well, anticipating some kind of fight and half readying himself to be exiled to the living room.
"It means that I likely can't go back to Piltover. Ever. And I simply don't think you should neglect your relationships with your loved ones to accommodate that."
"Viktor." Jayce looks him in the eyes, gravely serious. "I love you."
For a moment, it feels like the whole world has stopped. Of course by now he knows that Jayce loves him one way or another, but these are words he's wanted to hear for so, so long. He can't be selfish about this, though.
"Yes, well… love fades. Which is precisely my point on why you shouldn't—"
"I've been in love with you for seven years."
And it's a bit easier to compartmentalise with that, even if on some level it's disappointing.
"Yes, I know about your, eh… hero worship crush on me."
"What?"
"Some of those drawings were… kind of obvious." He shrugs. "I didn't mean to pry, it's just you kept them with your work notes—I stumbled onto them sometimes."
"You…" Jayce trails off, clearly baffled. "All this time, you knew?"
"It made sense. I helped you achieve your dream. Some sort of… feelings born from gratitude—hero worship, you could say—would be perfectly natural, no? I knew they'd go away eventually."
"But they didn't. That's what I'm telling you."
"And then you came to care for me as a friend, yes. A close friend, but, eh… nothing like you and Ms. Medarda."
"Mel. Who I've also been in love with for seven years. She made a move and you didn't—that's all."
Viktor scoffs.
"It's quite different. She's beautiful."
"Of course she is. So are you." Viktor tries to interrupt, but Jayce—as if sensing he was about to disagree—silences him with a glare. "In between feeling sorry for myself I had enough left over to hate everyone who didn't see my vision. It didn't matter to me then that she was beautiful. She was the second person to ever believe in me without proof. You were the first."
This is spiralling very far out of his control very fast.
"Jayce—"
"I don't care if you don't reciprocate—I wish you'd just tell me if you don't—but I'm not going to just sit here and let you be another person who tells me I can't possibly understand my own feelings because I'm unwell." Jayce scowls, and adds sarcastically, "Or, sorry—what did you say? Because my mind is unclear."
For a moment, Viktor doesn't speak. And his thoughts rush through him so quickly and so incomprehensibly he's not even sure he can say he thinks. It's a drastic reframing of everything he's ever allowed himself to believe. Everything he's taught himself to never hope for.
"You're right." He settles on finally, just as Jayce is starting to fidget nervously. "I'm sorry."
"I'm—I'm sorry, too. You, uh… of all people have every right to—to write me off as insane. If we're being honest."
"If you are insane, I don't think you're alone in that, either," Viktor admits quietly, not quite able to look at him anymore. "I do love you, Jayce. I have loved you for years as well, although, I can't pinpoint exactly where it started. But… right now I don't feel much of anything. Except worry, I suppose. Not just regarding you, but it's most obvious when it comes to you."
"I—That's, um… good to know?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jayce blushing. "Thanks for, you know, telling me."
It feels like it should be so simple; to just end it here. Mutual love confessions implying a happy story tale ending. But when have their lives ever been that simple? Viktor is not the man he once was. His desire to be close to Jayce now is wrong. Disgusting and corrupting. Entirely selfish. Even if Viktor is to trust that Jayce was, truly, in love with him the entire time, that doesn't mean Jayce should feel obligated to love him now.
"I am different, Jayce. Physically, yes, but it's more than that. The version of me before all this would've been too flustered to even be in the same room as you while you were undressed, whereas I feel nothing. Maybe the context has just been wrong, but, truthfully, I don't know if that version of me—the version you'd want—still exists." Viktor sighs, and he hates how mechanical it sounds. Hates that he's saying all this in a voice that can't possibly portray his emotions. "For this reason I don't think you should tie yourself so thoroughly to me. I'm a rock in the ocean; I'll only drag you down."
For some reason, that makes Jayce grin.
"Well, I happen to like rocks, you know."
For the second time in just a few minutes, Viktor is stunned into speechlessness.
"Jayce." He looks away, hiding a smile he's not sure his face can make. "We are being serious right now."
"I know, I know, just…" He sighs. "I'm tired. And hungry. My head's killing me. I want to be with you—isn't that enough? For now, at least."
Is it?
"I suppose…"
For now, at least.
"If you don't want me around, I understand. I'll leave. But it has to be something you want. Not—not something you think I 'need'."
"I understand."
"Good."
Jayce lies back down, and Viktor follows suit. The silence, this time, doesn't feel so bad.
"You know, I can't believe you never said anything…" Jayce murmurs eventually, his tone light. "That you never tried to ask me out."
"Me? Why didn't you?"
"I would've killed myself if Hextech failed, and you're seriously asking why I didn't do the one thing that could've potentially ruined our working relationship and destroyed Hextech completely?" Jayce laughs. "Besides, you're the one who knew how I felt the whole time."
"I… misunderstood the situation as fleeting feelings and thought it best not to hope for more. Or, eh, indulge you." He sighs. "I didn't want you to go on a few dates with me and realise that you just loved the version of me who swooped in and saved you—er, your dream. And definitely not when I… knew I could get sick. That even if everything went well I could still hurt you by leaving you in that way."
Even for how open he's been during this conversation he can't bring himself to add that he also didn't think he'd survive if Jayce left him while he was sick.
Jayce reaches out, searching for his hand and squeezing it once he has it.
"It would've hurt me either way, Viktor. Romantic feelings or no."
"I know, but… it would've been easier, yes? If you had someone else to support you during that time."
"I… I guess, yeah."
Carefully, Viktor trails his thumb in circles over the back of Jayce's hand. It feels scary, still. To touch him like this. To… hold him. Even like this, he could do so much damage. It would be so easy to just…
He misses it sometimes. How close they were in the astral plane.
For Jayce's sake, he will try to ignore it.
"Besides," Viktor says, voice maybe too-casual as he tries to lighten the mood again, "I was flirting with you the first night, anyway. You didn't seem interested."
"What? You—You were?"
"Mhm."
"Oh my god. Seriously?"
Viktor nods.
"Okay, well, you should've cut me some slack, I—I barely remembered my own name by the end of that, how was I supposed to pick up on flirting?"
"I don't know. I assumed you'd be used to it, looking like you do."
It makes Jayce blush, and Viktor feels a little thrill go through him at the sight.
"W-Well, uh, people weren't really into me back then. Because I was weird, and, uh… a bit of an asshole, I guess. And I didn't have time to be into them."
"If it helps, I like that you're weird. And a bit of an asshole."
Jayce laughs. "Thanks."
"Shall we get up now and find you something to eat?"
"Mm, okay. But first…" Jayce starts shuffling closer, then pauses. "Can I—I mean, can I… kiss you?"
How? He doesn't exactly have lips like he did before… But he can't bring himself to deny whatever Jayce has in mind.
"If you'd like."
Jayce smiles—a little bashful—as he encourages Viktor to sit up with him. He doesn't let go of Viktor's hand, and instead uses his free one to cup Viktor's cheek.
"I've thought about this a lot," Jayce murmurs. "Like this, too."
"Really?"
He built this form for practicality first and foremost. But… he can't deny that desirability played a part, too. In a way.
"Mhm."
Jayce presses a kiss to where his lips would've been, soft and lingering. Then he repeats the gesture on the two halves of Viktor's lips, and pulls back.
There's no way for Viktor to reciprocate without some creativity and experimentation.
He thinks… he would like to try that. Eventually.
"C'mon." Jayce tugs at him, urging him out of bed. "I hate to break the mood, but I think if I don't eat something soon I'm going to, um, throw up."
"Oh." For a moment, Viktor doesn't comprehend the words; still caught up in the lingering warmth of Jayce's kisses. Then, "Oh, right, yeah. Let's, uh, go."
Jayce laughs at how obviously flustered he is, and he has to remind Jayce to put his brace on before leaving the bed.
It's a quiet, comfortable evening. He's not quite sure he deserves it. But he hopes it will be one of many.