#choking.

Death doesn't come. Just as he had arrived at the precipice, he is pulled from it, the mechanical thing Viktor pilots loosening its grip on Jayce's throat just-so, and Jayce sucks in air on instinct, eyes opening wide and wild. He looks to his captor in confusion, waiting in bated breath as he once more clings to its hand around his throat, suspended in the air.

Its head tilts to the side like a puppet on strings, eerie and inhuman. Jayce picks up his struggle again, brows furrowed as he tries to wrench free. It doesn't last, as Viktor takes Jayce and slams him down into the council's desk, poetically mirroring the spot he had once occupied as one of them. His breath his knocked out of him the moment his back collides with its surface.

❛❛ You feign struggle, ❜❜ Viktor's warbled voice meets his ears, and Jayce levels the marionette with eyes once more filled with anger and defiance, hands clawing at its wrists, using legs pushing back against the weight now on them in an effort to break free. A delicate touch finds Jayce's abdomen, and he clenches in response, breath hitching in his throat as the touch slips downward. ❛❛ But the truth is one neither of us seem to have anticipated, partner. ❜❜

The word partner is carried with an edge that Jayce didn't like, but it sent a shock down his spine nonetheless, coiling in his gut. ❛❛ My partner— ❜❜ he meant to repeat himself from earlier, but Viktor squeezes again, cutting off his words, and against Jayce's wishes, he felt his cheeks burn, something new blooming in his core.

He was panting now, suspended in this heavy moment of anticipation, caught between death or whatever it was Viktor was formulating. Jayce didn't know which he was meant to dread, if at all. He had denied Viktor's hope of them once more being partners, perhaps this was his retaliation?

Viktor's hand slipped lower, over the top of Jayce's trousers, and the strain of fabric that is at attention. The act pulls a choked, needy sound from Jayce to both of their surprise, embarrassment pooling in his cheeks as he glanced between them, now fully aware of what Viktor had meant— and what Jayce had been repressing.

An ethereal laugh ripples from the machine, and Jayce does his best to mask the effect it had on him. Viktor sees right through him, the hand atop his pants squeezing. Jayce groans, his hips snapping upward against his will, eager for touch.

❛❛ It seems you've missed me, ❜❜ Viktor lets out, soft and sultry. Deft fingers work Jayce's zipper open with ease, causing him to inhale sharply, the hand he had wrapped around the husk's wrist tightens as the other shoots down to grip at the edge of the table. ❛❛ I had come here to convince you, and if this is the only way I can do so, then... ❜❜ Viktor trails off the moment he springs Jayce's cock free of its confines, a whine muffling itself in Jayce's throat at the sight and the act itself.

That mechanical hand wraps around the source of his heat, and he swallows down a moan, hips trembling in his effort to not buck up as Viktor began to work him. The touch is foreign and cold, yet impossibly familiar— it felt like the way Viktor had touched him before, warm and loving, yet just as exploratory and calculated as Jayce would expect of him. The thought made Jayce choke out a sob, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head to the side.

❛❛ Jayce, ❜❜

Viktor cooed, the hand on Jayce's cock slowing down to a crawl. His other hand moved from Jayce's neck to his cheek, guiding him to look at him, beyond the marionette. Though Jayce allowed his head to be turned, finding comfort in the cradling touch, he refused to open his eyes. There was a solemn expression on Viktor's face, but Jayce would never see it within the ethereal.

❛❛ Of course I've missed you, but I can't— ❜❜ Jayce fractures, leaning further into the hand upon his cheek, unable to finish his sentence without breaking further. Despite now being free, he doesn't move to escape. Would it be wrong of him to seek comfort in the shadow of the man he loved?

He sucks in a breath, finally opening his eyes to look upon the thing before him, bringing his hand to cup over the one on his cheek. ❛❛ Convince me. ❜❜

The hand on his cock moves again, and Jayce's eyes flutter shut once more, eager to bask in the illusion. He replaces the mechanical puppet with Viktor— his Viktor— who smiles at him knowingly, lovingly, eager to quip back and forth, happy to trail on about the newest scientific theory that's captured his fascination even while in the throes of each other's arms, exploring bodies. He imagines it's Viktor's cheek now pressing against his own as they hold each other close, peppering light kisses all along Jayce's stubbled jaw that Viktor would tease him incessantly for.

The phrase ❛❛ good boy ❜❜ slips into his ears, pulling a mewl from Jayce as he bites his lip, his hips stuttering as he thrusts up into Viktor's touch. Viktor urges him on with careful touches and encouraging words, pulling his pants lower to give him more access, allowing Jayce to hike his legs up and around his hips. Jayce imagines the warble of Viktor's voice isn't there— he imagines the fingers that press roughly into his perineum are made of flesh as he lets out a loud moan.

Jayce erupts under Viktor's touches, and the stars in his eyes remind him of every cherished moment spent with Viktor, and the ache of the loss that they may never share another. Viktor's name dances along his tongue like a prayer, growing louder and louder with each graze of his skin. He's desperate to feel himself bare against his broken lover, and he weeps, knowing that his prayer will never be truly answered. His tears are not wiped away.

Viktor winds him up, and watches him go. And he goes, hard, the moment the marionette's thumb applies pressure along the underside of his head. Jayce's hips shudder and snap upwards as he cries out Viktor's name one last time, and he's milked of every bit of himself that Viktor can wring out of him until Jayce is left writhing and overstimulated.

He's left on the counselor's table, panting and spent. Once Jayce returns to himself, he notices that Viktor— the puppet, rather— is already headed towards the door. Jayce goes to speak, lifting himself up, but Viktor is already gone by the time he does.