#fix-it

Reader who was just freshly been employed as the lab illustrator, sitting diligently at their new desk whilst Jayce fetches the research folder and Viktor tinkers away in the background.

Reader who lets Jayce set down the heavy folder on their desk, which holds all of the pair's research as well as hundreds of cruedly drawn sketches of inventions such as the Hexclaw and early drafts of the Hexgates, drawn by both himself and Viktor. (They are not drawn well, and it is only because most of the drawings are labelled with big, obnoxoious arrows that you actually know what you're looking at).

Jayce pausing in his explanations of the tech on each page and his promises to pull everything out of storage when you need it for a refence, slowly trailing off when he catches sight of your reaction to the drawings: "Why are you making that face?"

Reader who is diligently flicking through the pages and trying not to crack up at the poorly drawn stick figures, and the messy, uneven parallel lines of wires and robotic arms, and the scribbled oblong that is supposed to be one of the gemstones. They're not half bad attempts from people who focus their energy and time into math equations and flowery research papers, but that doesn't mean they're not amusing to look at.

"What face? I'm not making a face."

Reader turns all of their attention down to the pages and proceeds to fail at smothering their snort as the concept sketch of one of the Zaun suits. They push the folder back along the desk, to create enough space to prop their elbows on the table, to pinch the bridge of their nose hard to try and school themselves into some form of calm.

"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asks, sounding geniunely confused.

Whilst Reader tries to save face by responding, "I'm not. I'm just- uh, coming to terms with how much work I have ahead of me."

Jayce frowns.

The commotion has caught Viktor's attention.

"Well, it is a lot." Jayce allows, "but we won't rush you. The deadline is months away after all, and if-"

His words fade into the background in your mind as Viktor chooses then to roll over on his wheelie office chair to see what's going on, only to immediately grin in understanding. He rolls his chair up on the adjascent side of your desk, mouth pulled into a wicked smirk as he points to a particularly wobbly zaun suit drawing. "That would be one of Jayce's masterpieces."

Jayce lets out an offended noise, whilst Viktor takes malicious joy in flipping through the folder to point out which other drawings were done by Jayce. Most of them are wobbly and uneven, but have clearly been mapped out with steady, slow care.

In retaliation, Jayce swipes the folder out of Viktor's gleeful hands, and pointedly flips to a fresher page dated back to a couple of days ago. You catch a glimpse of the title 'hexcore', scrawled across the top in confident letters, before Jayce is turning the folder back to you and loudly proclaiming the work of art as Viktor's.

[The ‘hexcore’ has been drawn with wobbly, uneven lines that lacked the sleek, parallel look of the actual subject, with poorly recreated runes that did not at all take into account perspective or foreshortening.]

Reader loses it at the attempt, whilst Jayce and Viktor continue to squabble with one another in the background.

I just NEED all three of them to spend countless hours in that laboratory getting stuck in their respective tasks (creative Vs Scientific) and all three of them come out aching and satisfied by the time the janitor comes round to kick them out for the night, despite doing jobs that require different parts of their brains. The overlap of countless, almost unsolvable equations, with the hours of staring at a blank page and slowly but surely coaxing out an image, it just so precious to me somehow.

Bonus points of course, if Jayce and Viktor are getting really into a scientific debate across the room by the chalkboard, flinging enormous words back and forth at one another, whilst Reader slowly dies inside trying to make the metal part of an invention LOOK like metal.

I just need Reader allowing the background muttering and excited exclamations to sooth them as they carefully draw another diagram above a neatly scrawled out text box of the pair's latest concept.

Jayce: “Yes! That could work! What do you think, Y/n?”

Reader: Head snaps up at being addressed. “Uh…”

They blue screen as they come back to reality and realise they haven’t moved in hours and their back and neck desperately ache from the movement. They're suddenly starving, and hungry, and really need to pee, but didn't notice before because they were so engrossed in their work. Kind of like how the other two get about their research.

Viktor being a night owl and working on projects late into the night.

Jayce being smart and taking cat naps on his desk because he's an early bird, but a deadline is coming up and he refuses to be defeated by exhaustion.

And then you have Reader. Who is not being supervised in the kitchen, where they've made their fifth coffee and with shaking, caffeinated hands, they begin pouring in a generous helping of a Piltover energy drink.

Viktor hears the can pop.

He says your name warningly. "You better not be making that culinary monstrosity again."

Instead of responding, they knock back the whole mug in desperate gulps, ignoring the rancid taste and shivering from the mix of burning liquid with the pop of hundreds of tiny bubbles.

The mug gets slammed loudly back on the counter. Viktor sighs heavily and pushes his wheelie chair towards Jayce's desk.

He wakes him up, with a prod of his cane into his side.

"I'm about to have a breakthrough." He explains quickly motioning to his desk. Blary eyed and clearly not fully awake yet, Jayce nods along. Viktor points dramatically to Jayce and then in the direction of the kitchen. "You're on assistant duty for the next half an hour."

The tiredness leeches out of Jayce's face. "They didn't-"

"They did."

"But they've already got caffeine shakes!"

"Tell that to the sound of the kettle bubbling away and the pop of a can lid. It has already happened Jayce. All we can do now it keep the damage to a minimum."

On silent feet, Reader's shadow appears on the other side of the desk. Both men jump. The light overhead casts their face into shadows and somehow makes their eyes glow. It is a terrifying sight.

Viktor recovers first. "We need to put a bell on you!"

"Kinky. Now, whatdoyouwantmetodrawnext?!" Their assistant rushes out in a single breath.

And both scientists pale. It was already beginning then.

The next four hours consists of Jayce struggling to keep his eyes open whilst Reader pokes fun at him and offers up their 'creation', Jayce firmly declining and trying to get on with his work, whilst Viktor keeps to himself and snorts periodically at the banter.

Reader draws and draws and then rubs out, before diligently getting back to drawing again. There is a frenzy to their marks. A wildness to their eyes. The scratch and scritch of their pen, getting lost amongst the sound of cogs turning and screws tightening and Jayce's yawning. So much so that when it suddenly ceases, neither of the scientists notice at first.

Not until Viktor asks for a warm tea, only for the previously eager assistant not to respond. He lets out a fond sigh, Jayce straightening up from his own work.

Reader is passed out on their sketchbook, having FINALLY crashed.

Viktor gets up to make his own tea.

Jayce shrugs off his jacket, and puts it over their shoulders as a makeshift blanket. The man has such broad shoulders that it practically swallows the assistant from sight, but they do not stir.

"That'll give them an awful neck ache tomorrow." Viktor observes aloud.

Jayce snorts. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to stop them making that foul concoction."

"Unlikely."

Jayce just shakes his head and collapses back onto his desk and lays his head down on his arm. "Ten minutes." He mutters out before closing his eyes.

Viktor hums. And by the time he gets his tea back to the desk, his partner is out like a light, just as he had predicted.

"I CANNOT believe you're making me do this Jayce." Viktor exclaims sarcastically.

"Viktor. Please let me get that cog for you. Just this time. Please!"

"Oh no, no, do not get up on my account." Viktor firmly dismisses as he shimmies down his cane, one hand over the other all the whilst making exaggerated groaning noises.

Jayce is practically vibrating in place. "Please! It is literally all the way under that side board. Can I just slide it out for you? You can pick it up yourself."

"Oh no, do not strain yourself!" Viktor insists, sitting himself down on the floor, one hand holding his cane up as he shoves his other arm under the side board.

"VIKTOR!" Jayce all but whines, and takes a step forward.

"Ah!" Viktor immediately reprimands. "Y/n get the spray bottle!"

You've been watching the entire scene in amusement from your desk. Quietly giggling at Viktor's ribbing and Jayce's desperation to be useful. They make a rather amusing duo.

Jayce's eyes have jumped up to you. Frozen mid-step, eyes pleading.

You grin, pointedly reaching across the gap between yours and Viktor's desks to grab said spray bottle.

On the floor, Viktor makes a triumphant noise, before straightening up and brandishing the cog above his head. "Got it!" He exclaims, before slamming the blasted thing onto the side board. Then he tries to clamber back up his cane to his feet. He is unsuccessful as his leg decides not to co-operate this time.

He sighs. "Jayce." He says heavily, "as punishment for making me get down here in the first place-"

"What?! I've literally been-"

"As reprimand for your dastardly crimes. You are obligated to offer me one hand. But ONLY one, or your punishment shall evolve into death by spray bottle." Dramatically, he holds out his hand to his exasperated partner.

In support, you give the spray bottle a little squeeze in Jayce's direction, to which he shoots you a dark look. You merely grin back.

Then Jayce offers Viktor his hand, their fingers wrapping around the others wrist. "Slow." Viktor instructs, as he readjusts his legs into the right position. Jayce nods.

Then Jayce gently pulls Viktor up as Viktor balances between his feet and his cane.

"Thank you." He says, patting Jayce on the cheek, before promptly turning on his heel to retreat back to his desk.

They're so silly, I love them so much.

Evan looked a little confused by the change in subject, but he'd always been so good about rolling with things; it was something Tommy had always admired in him. "Um, I- I was trying to help him find someone to sublet it, b-but I was kind of upset about him leaving without telling me beforehand, so I maybe, uh… didn't handle it the best. I scared them off, so I- I- I felt like I owed him to take over his lease, y'know? He deserves to be closer to Chris."

In the back of Tommy's mind, something about that felt very wrong – not like Evan was lying, no; but like there was something he should be worried about, for Evan's sake – yet he pushed past the feeling, smiled softly, and changed the subject back, saying, "I'm not worried about you breaking my heart."

Last night, he'd been concerned that Evan was pining, living in Eddie's home out of a sense of longing, but it was looking more like he was here out of guilt, which wasn't great, but was probably safer for Tommy in the long run.

"Then, I think- I think I'm free Saturday," Evan whispered, the corners of his mouth quirked in a sweet little smile, and just like their first kiss in another kitchen, Tommy put two fingers under the edge of his jaw and pulled him in.

It was everything their kisses the night before hadn't been, soft and full of tender affection, and he couldn't help melting into it.

He'd missed this more than anything.

When they parted, he said, "C'mon. Let's eat before everything gets cold," and gently patted Evan's side.

"You really didn't have to go to- to all this work," Evan said, ducking his head. "I could've cooked."

"I know," Tommy reassured, "but you know me. I like taking care of you."

The tips of Evan's ears and the tops of his cheeks turned a soft pink. "I know," he said. He watched closely as Tommy dished up a full plate of all the food he'd made – and yes, he'd probably gone overboard with it, but sue him; he'd been so happy to get back even a little of what he'd stupidly thrown away – only speaking when Tommy passed it over. "Can I- can I ask you something?" he said, eyes scrunching nervously.

"Yeah, of course," Tommy said. No matter how uncomfortable any of the questions made him, Evan was owed answers.

Evan waited until they were seated at the table with their food before finally asking, "What did I do wrong?"

His stomach dropped out from underneath him. "What?"

"I don't- I don't want to mess up again. You- you left because I did something- something to make you think I didn't care; I- I- I-" Evan said, struggling to get his words out.

Normally, Evan held things together so well, leaving Tommy with only a vague sense of unease, all while his boyfriend was full on spiraling. If he didn't have a stutter that got worse when he was feeling strong emotions, he'd probably only ever come across as mildly alarmed, but either Tommy had gotten better about reading Evan or this was worse than any previous emotional outburst, because Evan looked terrified – not blatantly, but enough that it was evident to someone who knew him well.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Tommy told him, quickly interrupting.

Time had let him see that much.

The night Tommy had run away, everything Evan had said scared him, talk of moving in together, of admiration, of a future marriage. He'd felt like Evan didn't see him, instead seeing some paragon of gay men, untouchable, up on a pedestal that Tommy had no right to be on.

He'd been scared because there was so much that the two of them still didn't know about each other, scared that Evan hadn't been paying attention to the little he had revealed over their relationship.

Tommy wasn't someone to look up to like that.

A couple weeks later, after he'd stopped feeling like he was constantly drowning in his grief and heartbreak, he'd actually thought over the things Evan had said, the way he'd looked while saying them; he'd compared it to the way he knew that Evan had a habit of sticking his foot in his mouth at times and tried to figure out what Evan had meant by what he'd said.

He still wasn't one-hundred percent certain what Evan had actually intended, but he was sure that he'd definitely overreacted in his panic.

"Then- then what happened?" Evan asked, voice unsteady. "I thought we w-were happy. I mean, I know I, um- I jumped the gun asking you to move in. You- you own your house, but I hadn't really- hadn't really meant it like that, just…"

Tommy reached across the table and grabbed Evan's hands, holding them in the hopes of calming him down. "I know, Evan," he said. "I've known since our first date that your mouth runs away from you sometimes, but… ever since day one, you've always apologized for that and tried to make things right when it happened."

Evan was a man of big emotions and grand gestures, and Tommy loved that about him. It wasn't his fault that he'd unknowingly hit every one of Tommy's triggers that night; it was Tommy's fault for not talking a moment to step back as opposed to running away.

"You called our relationship the most transformative one you'd ever had, called me brave for fighting for gay marriage rights even though it was legalized before I was even engaged to Abby, so I was still deeply in the closet, and you told me you wanted to take the next step in our relationship of moving in together when the next step should've been telling each other 'I love you'," he said bluntly, not wanting to hurt him but also knowing he needed to get it off his chest.

He watched Evan's heart break but didn't give him a moment to respond, needing to finish his thoughts and fix them.

"But," Tommy said, "the problem isn't what you said – I figured out later that things probably came out wrong. It was how scared I got about the idea that you wanted more out of our relationship than I'd been expecting."

That left Evan visibly taken aback. "What?"

"Like I told you that night, you didn't even know you liked men when I kissed you that first time. For… most of our relationship, to be honest, I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. You were so amazing, and I always thought you could do better than me," Tommy confessed. "I just figured I was the starter boyfriend. Show you what it's like to date a man, help you figure out what you like, and… be left behind once you'd realized how much the world opened up."

"That's- that's not how I saw it at all," Evan whispered hoarsely.

He nodded. "I figured that out. After I'd already walked out," he said. "And at that point… I almost texted you so many times, but I thought I didn't have any right to since I'd been the one to hurt you."

"I saw that," Evan said.

It was his turn to ask, "What?" confusedly, not following him.

"I saw you bubbling me. The- the little typing bubble, but… you never sent anything, so…" Evan shrugged. "It was really hard not to text first, but I figured since- since you broke up with me…" He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth for a brief moment. "I cling. I'm a clinger. But I didn't want to cling if you didn't want me."

Evan let out a little chuckle. "It's actually funny. I- I was trying so hard not to think of you; I think I made everyone sick of me. Every time I thought about texting you, I baked. Cookies, loaves, cup- um, cupcakes. I filled my fridge and my freezer and gave- gave everyone I knew baked goods to the point where they got sick of them and told me to stop. I think I tripled my grocery bill with how much flour and eggs and butter I was buying."

He laughed again, but Tommy didn't find it funny; he found it devastating, his chest tight as he tried to not cry.

Tommy had seen how full the fridge was with baked goods when he'd gone to make breakfast, but he'd just thought they were just housewarming gifts from Evan's friends.

"I ended up having to start donating them to the soup kitchen nearby," Evan added.

"I love you," Tommy said, unable to stop himself.

Evan froze, staring at him.

"You- you do?" he asked.

"I really do," Tommy told him, smiling softly. "I love you a lot, Evan."

Evan's eyes grew watery. "I love you too. I love you so much," he said, tears starting to slide down his cheeks.

"I could tell," Tommy said with a nod.

They'd only been together for six months. If Evan wasn't as in love with him as he was with Evan, they both would've gotten over the break-up long before this point, but considering how hung up they both still were on each other…

In the depths of his mind, well-hidden from the light of day, Tommy thought to himself that maybe they were meant to be.

Evan pulled his hands away to wipe at his face, and Tommy hadn't even consciously realized he'd still been holding them, gently rubbing his thumbs over the backs, until they were gone, but it had felt so natural.

"Why, um- why would you- why did you think I saw you as a starter boyfriend? Not now, because- because you said you realized. But back then," Evan said, stumbling over his words. "I just- Like I said, I don't want you to think I- I don't love you. You're- When I said you were the most transformative relationship I'd ever had, it- it wasn't because I figured out I liked men. It's be-because I realized loving someone could be easy. I thought- I thought it always had to be work."

"Oh," Tommy said, his whole world reorienting itself as things suddenly made a lot more sense. Even though he'd figured out Evan hadn't meant everything the way he'd said it, he'd still had a couple lingering doubts, worried that even if Evan loved him that it still wouldn't work out this time, but it really sounded like Evan felt more similarly to him than not.

"I'm just- I'm usually too much for people," Evan continued.

Tommy shook his head. "Evan, loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done. I've never once thought you were too much." Cowboy funerals and curses and all.

Slowly, Evan's eyes lit up. "Really?" he asked. "So then…"

"A lot of it was me," Tommy told him, needing him to believe it. "I didn't realize until after we broke up that… Sorry, this is hard to say the right way." Because he had to explain it in a way that didn't hurt Evan.

Evan, always ever-so-patient-and-caring Evan, sat quietly while he got his thoughts together, giving him a kind smile.

"When I started dating men, it changed my whole world. I'd never felt like that when dating any of the women I went out with, and everything was so different. So when you started dating me, I… attributed some – or well, most – of your feelings for me to that sort of experience, but…" he said.

"But I like women too," Evan said.

"Right," he said, nodding.

To him, dating women had been stifling, awful. He'd hated it. It took them breaking up to realize that Evan wouldn't have felt that with any of his ex-girlfriends, though; not like Tommy had with his.

"You being a man didn't really mean anything to me when it came to our relationship," Evan told him earnestly. "I just love you for- for you; the outside doesn't matter much. I mean, I- I know it affects people's perceptions of us, but- but when it's just the two of us…"

Tommy nodded again. "Yeah. And I think I didn't get that before," he said. "You just… you were all in on dating a man, and it seemed like you didn't consider what that meant. For you or for us. You never labeled yourself the entire time we dated, and I didn't realize how much it bothered me until we broke up, but on the other hand, you also don't owe me or anyone else a label."

Evan's brows furrowed. "I- I didn't know." He looked away from Tommy, a grimace on his lips. "I still haven't…"

"You're always so gung ho about doing research on every little thing that passes through your head, and so when six months had passed, and you hadn't looked up anything about gay history or what it means to be queer…" Tommy said, trailing off, not sure where he was going with it. That was one of the things his thoughts were still all tangled up about.

That they'd reached their six-month anniversary without Evan realizing somehow that Tommy being gay meant he was completely disinterested in women…

"It was just so confusing sometimes," Tommy said, scrubbing at his face. "You had no problem telling everyone we were boyfriends or holding my hand in public, which was way more comfortable than I was with the men I dated right after I stopped hiding myself, but then you would never say if you were bi or- I don't know."

"I'm sorry," Evan said quietly. "I didn't realize it came across that way."

"I'm not upset at you," he promised, because he really, really wasn't. He knew how confusing everything about discovering oneself could be, and he'd never begrudge Evan for any part of the process; he just got scared.

"I- I guess I'm probably bi?" Evan said, sounding unsure. "I mean, I like both, right? It just never felt like it mattered when we were dating because, um… It felt like you were the one, so why did I need a label? On our anniversary date, y-you said it was okay to look, but- but I hadn't even thought about it. I, uh- I only had eyes for you…" He trailed off shyly near the end.

Tommy felt his cheeks growing hot.

That voice in the back of his head got louder, clamoring that Evan thought they were meant to be too.

He swallowed and pushed it back down. "Again, you don't owe me a label. However you feel is fine by me."

"I just know I want to be with you," Evan said, reminding Tommy of their conversation all those months ago at the coffee shop.

"That's what I want too," he said back.

Evan looked down, smiling, and both of them were quiet for a long moment, soaking everything in.

The silence was broken by Evan awkwardly saying, "Well, i-if breakfast wasn't cold before, it definitely is now," as he picked up his fork and poked at his plate.