#damacia

“Mel Medarda, it’s been too long.” 

“Congratulations on your wedding!” Mel picked up a champagne flute from a passing waiter and handed it out to him, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to Demacia.” 

The man waved a hand, brushing it off, “Your gift was much appreciated," he wet his lips as his eyes flicked to Jayce, looking him up and down breifly before his lips curled into a faint smile. "Is this the ‘Man of Progress’ I see before me?” His eyes seemed to pierce him as he took a slow sip of his drink. 

Jayce held his hand out, the councillor shaking it firmly. “Jayce Talis,” he introduced himself, his voice a little tighter than he wanted it to be, something sbout the man unsettling him.

“Councillor Talis,” he pondered, his hand sinking into his pocket as he retracted it from his grip. “You have made quite the name for yourself, bringing magic to the people. A bold endeavour if I do say so myself.” 

Jayce forced a polite smile, though the weight of the man’s gaze made his skin itch. “Innovation requires boldness,” he replied smoothly.

The councillor hummed, his expression unreadable as he swirled the drink in his glass. “Magic in the hands of the people,” he mused again, as if testing the words on his tongue. “Power is such a delicate thing, though, isn’t it? Give too much of it away, and suddenly, control becomes… complicated.”

Jayce stiffened, his jaw tightening. “Hextech isn’t about control,” he countered, his voice measured. “It’s about progress. Giving people the tools to build a better future.”

The man’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “A noble sentiment.” His eyes flickered to Mel for the briefest moment before settling back on Jayce. “Let’s hope it remains in the right hands.”

Jayce felt his fingers curl into a fist at his side, but before he could respond, the Demacian councillors eyes looked past him, his features immediately softening as he focused on someone behind him, 

“Ah, I believe you have already met my wife.” 

Jayce took the opportunity to sip his drink as he turned slowly, trying to ease his dry mouth.

Then he saw her.

His blood turned to ice as he watched her laughing along with something Salo had said as they crossed the hall. She still looked as ethereal as she had done back then, his heart still clenched the way it had that day in the cafe when her laugh was the only sound he cared about.

Her step faltered as she happened to glance across to them. A flicker of something flashing across her face before she caught herself. Jayce held his breath as she hesitated, then, at her husband’s beckoning, forced herself forward, each step more tentative than the last.

He cleared his throat uneasily, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth as he turned back to the councillor. “Uh, yes. A few years ago.”

“She’s a wonder, isn’t she?” His grin stretched as he pulled her into his side, seemingly oblivious to her uneasey smile as his hand circled her waist. “Darling, you remember Mr. Talis from your last tour, don’t you?” 

She nodded curtly, her gaze flickering away from his. “Jayce.”

Her husband's brow raised as he glanced between them. 

“It’s good to see you again.” Jayce hoped his sincerity rang through as he exhaled slowly, trying to regain control of his racing heart. 

Mel stepped forward, her movements smooth but just a fraction too deliberate. She pressed a kiss to each of her cheeks, her chuckle airy but uneasy. “How long has it been?”

“Three years,” she mused, a well-practiced smile dimpling her cheeks. Jayce couldn’t help but fixate on the way her fingers instinctively fidgeted with a large diamond ring on the hand that held her glass. 

“Has it really been so long?” Mel’s eyes widened a little, “You should play for us again!” Mel started, her eyes lighting up. “At the gala-“ 

“She doesn’t—“

Both men started at once, their eyes boring into one another as they frowned at each other, their voices trailing off. – like to play for people like that' hung on Jayce’s lips.

“I haven’t brought my violin on such a short trip,” she filled in quickly, feeling the heat crawling up her skin. “Would you all excuse me? I need to powder my nose.” 

She balanced her champagne glass on a passing waiter's tray offering a small, strained smile to her husband, her fingers lightly squeezing his before she turned and pressed through the crowds. 

The water was freezing as it washed over the backs of your hands, but it did nothing to calm your racing heart rate, nor calm the heat that crawled over your skin. exhaling slowly you brushed your wet palm over the back of your neck, trying anything to subdue the panic that was steady bubbling beneath the surface.

You knew there was a good chance of seeing him again when you agreed to come, but you had hoped that he would be busy, or that perhaps he would have stepped away from politics like he had wanted to. 

A sharp knock on the door jolted you. Shit. In your rush to escape you hadn’t locked it.

“Occupied!” Your voice came out sharper than intended.

With trembling fingers, you shut off the tap, grabbing a towel to dry your hands. You barely had time to exhale before the door creaked open.

You spun around, frustration bubbling over. “I said—”

“I know.”

The voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed thickly as his eyes met yours, your hands stilling as you pulled in a shaky breath. His hair had grown out a bit, the soft strands framing his forehead, and the beard was new…

“You can’t be here.” 

You hated the way your pulse raced at the sound of his soft chuckle. He closed the door behind him quietly, leaning against it with that familiar, effortless confidence. “In the ladies’ powder room? Or with you?”

“Both.” Your voice was steadier than you felt. You forced yourself to focus on the towel in your hands.

“It’s been a while,” you murmured, a soft, reluctant smile tugging at your lips before you could stop it. You kept your eyes down, fixated on your fingers. “You look good. Turns out politics suits you.”

He huffed a poor excuse of a laugh, running a hand over his thick facial hair and rolling his tongue against his cheek. “Marriage suits you.”

The words landed heavier than they should have, the air suddenly feeling too thick to breath in.

“When we…. Were you?...” he could barely get the questions out, hardly wanting to know the answer. 

“Gods, no.” You shook your head vehemently. “I met him after, after the final show…”

“Do you make a habit of picking up a guy after every performance?” He scoffed, but his hurt bled through the cracks in his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat. “How dare you?”

He didn’t turn to look at you even as your voice cracked, but you saw the way his jaw tightened. “I was confused, alone. I needed a shoulder to cry on and he was there for me." The silence between you stretched, suffocating. "Besides, I never thought I would ever come back here.”

The silence between you was thick, suffocating, yet neither of you moved to break it. Your eyes betrayed you, drawn to the way his muscles tensed beneath the crisp fabric of his dress shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I still think about you all the time.” His voice cut through the tension, so sudden it made you flinch. “I wonder where you are, how you are. If you still play…” He trailed off and you watched the way his throat bobbed as he wet his lips, the hesitation in his breath.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

Clenching your fists, you finally found it within yourself to look away, turning and leaning back against the counter. “It would have hurt too much, and…” The words caught in your throat.

“And what?” He voice was barely more than a whisper, but you could hear the hope in his tone. 

“And I wouldn’t have been able to leave,” you breathed heavily.

For a moment, you felt like you were losing your mind – that maybe this was some weird lucid dream that you would wake up from sweating and clawing at the sheets. “It sounds insane, doesn’t it?” you pondered, tilting your head back and chewing on your lower lip for a moment, letting it flick back out as you sighed, “It was three days in our lives, and yet they follow me around every day. That little what if..." You swallowed thickly, "That in three days,” you mused again, “you managed to make me feel what no one else had in years.” 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d moved until he was right in front of you, no longer leaning against the door but against the wall across from you. Closer, almost too close.

“And what’s that?” 

“Love.” 

The way his lips parted with a gasp made it hard to look away. You didn’t miss how his arms tensed as he tightened his fists. “Do you love him?” 

“Yes.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation on your response. “That's why I married him.” 

Jayce had the audacity to step closer, to push you. “I sense a but.”

You sucked in a shallow breath, fingers twisting the ring on your finger, the weight of it suddenly unbearable.

“But it isn't the same...”

It happened so quickly you hardly registered what was happening until his lips were pressed to yours, his beard scratchign against your skin. The weight of his body pressed you back against the counter, forcing the rounded edge of the stone countertop into your lower back as he stepped between your legs, digging his fingers into your hips desperately as he clung to you, bunching the fabric of your dress against your skin. As if instinct, your hands landed on his shoulders, his muscles hot and tense against your palms. 

It was your moan that snapped you out of it, your eyes shooting open as you pushed against him.

“We can’t.” Your voice was breathy, your fingers fisting the material of his shirt, gripping onto him as your palms tried to push him away. His lips trailed down against your jaw regardless.

“We shouldn’t!” you tried again, your fingers loosening their grip as he reached your throat, sucking so gently against your pulse point you wondered if you had imagined it. 

Your eyes fell closed. 

Your arms slackened. 

“Oh, Jayce…” 

“I missed you.” His breath fanned across your skin, sending waves of heat through your nerves as you gave into him, turning to putty in his grasp as he turned you, everything suddenly going a million miles an hour, faster than your mind could catch up to as his hips connected with the flesh of your arse.

“Need you,” you panted as he bent you slightly, the hard outline of his member pressing against you as he rolled his hips against you, grinding into you feverishly. The implication alone was enough to have your eyes fluttering closed, your lips parting with a sigh. 

It was easy to ignore the counter as it dug painfully into your hips when his hand was trailing down your back, brushing from your shoulder blades to the curve of your spine as he pushed you forward, his other hand working quickly to bunch the material of your dress up around your waist. 

Gone was all trace of that tender night you had once spent together. In its place was three years of pent up desperation. Neither of you could move fast enough, your hands joining his in trying to hike the fabric up around your hips, your fingers hooking into your underwear and trying to shimmy them down your thighs as he fussed with the button on his trousers, pushing them away just enough to free himself. 

A hand pressing itself between your shoulder blades forced you back over the sink again, gripping the sides of the counter until your fingers hurt. Your breath fogged up the mirror as you watched him, wide-eyed and slack jawed, suck on two fingers before running them through your folds. 

The nudged your clit roughly and your groaned, head falling forward to rest against the wall as he ran rough circles against you, dipping just a little between your folds and dragging the growing wetness down. 

It wasn't long until his fingers were replaced by the head of his cock, the tip pressing against your weeping hole tentatively. 

He looked up, eyes meeting yours in your reflection as you forced your head back. For a second, time seemed to slow, his lips curling up into a smirk. Then he pushed in, meeting no resistance as he sunk in to the hilt, muffling a groan behind bitten lips as he immediately set a bruising pace. 

“Nghh– Jayce!” 

He was quick to shush you, his wide frame leaning over you, nearly trapping you against the sink, as his hand clamped over your mouth. The weight of him was heavy against your frame, his hand rough with calluses as he tugged your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. 

“Gotta be quiet,” he grunted, hips pistoning into yours at an almost bruising pace. The sounds of slapping bounced off the dark walls, the lewd squelching making your skin burn with embarrassment as you teared up, hot tears spilling over and catching on his hand. 

His knees worked to hold yours apart as he fucked into you, the cabinet the only thing keeping you on your feet. 

“Feel so good– missed you so much,” he grumbled, looking away from your watery eyes to where he met you, biting back a groan at the milky ring of slick that coated his cock. "Thought about you every damn day," he rambled lowly, almost incoherently as he rutted into you relentlessly, completely focused on you, eager to please. "There's no one like you, so damn perfect."

The hand gripping at your hip snaked around your body, his thick fingers brushing through your folds roughly until he brushed against your clit, a long whine muffled against his hand making his cock twitch. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, a sudden sincerity to his voice that didn’t quite match his actions as he worked you tirelessly. The tension in your stomach tightened and your eyes forced themselves closed against the force of your pleasure, your walls fluttering around him as he bullied himself into you relentlessly. 

“Cum for me,” he pleaded, his chin dropping to his chest, “please, need you - fuck - I love you.”

Your eyes shot open at his words, jaw dropping, but you could hardly focus for long as he pulled you over the edge. The feeling sharp as it shot through your body, forcing your already weak muscles to tense beneath him as he continued to buck into you, his thrusts growing sloppier and his hand falling from your mouth, letting you pull in ragged breaths at last, your lungs screaming for oxygen, in favour of gripping the counter to support himself. 

He pulled himself from you suddenly, grabbing for a tissue as he came, doing his best to muffle his own noises as his balls twitched and he emptied himself into his palm, spilling over the tissue as he leaned back, eyes fixed on your puffy slit. 

You stayed still for a moment waiting for some sensation to return to your body as you slumped, limp and ashamed, before you attempted to shift your weight back onto your shaky legs. Your whole body was trembling, although from what you weren’t sure anymore. You felt sick. 

Your fingers trembled slightly as you hurriedly brushed at your cheeks before you pulled at your underwear, tugging them back up your legs without much thought, already working to shuffle your dress back down into place. 

Your breath came a little uneven as you exhaled, pressing your palms briefly against your thighs to steady yourself. You could still feel the ghost of his touch, the lingering warmth of his hands, the way his voice had wrapped around you like silk.

Jayce had already discarded the tissue and tucked himself back in by the time you looked at him again, meeting his gaze in the mirror, a weight roughly the size of him settling on your heart.

You could see the pain in both of your eyes, a strange mix of emotions neither of you could really place. Guilt, shame, longing, regret. It all blurred together into something messy. One thing was for sure, though, and it was that you both felt dirty. The gravity of what had just transpired collapsing on you like a building. 

You swallowed, your throat dry, but no words came. What could you even say? That you wished things were different? That you wished this didn’t feel so wrong, and yet, somehow, so right?

“Stay. Please.” his voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was desperate nonetheless. 

It suddenly felt impossible to breathe and you forced yourself to look away, finishing pressing down the hem of your dress, your hands shaky as they smoothed over the fabric. 

“I…” You swallowed hard, your throat tight, your heart hammering against your ribs. “It really was good to see you again, Jayce.” 

You grabbed your clutch from the counter and unlocked the door, pausing just momentarily over the door handle. For a second, you contemplated looking at him once more, gazing into those honey-coloured eyes without the protection of a reflection. But you thought better of it, and with that, you stepped back through the door, stepping back into the cool, darkened corridor. 

“There you are, my love, I thought you had gotten lost,” your husband smiled sweetly as you looped your arm with his, letting him kiss your forehead softly. 

“I bumped into an old friend and ended up chatting,” you spoke softly, praying he didn’t feel your hand tremble against him. “I’m ready to head back if you are?” You pleaded with your eyes and he nodded, pressing another chaste kiss to your skin.

“Of course, I’ll go get our coats.”

Bonus: 

“What’s wrong, darling? You’ve been quiet all evening.” 

You offered your husband a forced smile, your thumb brushing over the back of your his hand as he gently held your thigh, the wight of it comforting as you glanced out the car window. 

“I’m just tired. I want to go home.” 

His face softened, letting you lean in against his shoulder as you shuffled closer to him. “She’s three now, you can’t still have mum guilt.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your hairline, “Our daughter is bright. She understands we don’t do these things on purpose.” 

Your chest tightened, closing your eyes against the image of your baby and her honey-coloured eyes. 

“I know.”