#jayvik community

Chapter 1: Sectarian Drift

Note: I can only apologize for how long it took me to start this cursed project. I’ve been in the Jayvik trenches fighting for my life working on so many other projects all at once trying to find the time for this one because LOL! ALSO! This is going to be multiple chapters because PLOT, damn it. 

—

The comune loomed large against the backdrop of the trenches, sparkling like a gleaming beacon of unearthly splendor amongst the squalor and dissidence. It was brilliant, reflecting the light and casting a divine halo across all that came within its circumference. A promise made in silence that assured safety and respite. As resplendent and beloved as its founder. A haven born of a genuine wish to better the community it sat within.

Beautiful.

And yet, it was quiet. So very quiet.

Approaching from a crevice in the side of the canyon that overlooked the encampment from the left side of the crystal dome at its center, Jacye stood silently. Readying himself for the descent. For the grim task that awaited him below.

An air of anxiety and despair filled the area as he proceeded. Everyone seemed on edge, as though their minds were focused on other more troubling matters. Or perhaps that was just his perception of them. It was a beautiful place, but something about the somewhat vacant stares that the majority of the inhabitants wore made his skin crawl. He felt a strong jolt of pain shoot through his body and slam into his head as he snuck through the village, causing him to buckle and clasp his ringing skull in anguish, groaning in pain. Fragments of undefinable light and sound slammed through this tired brain. Oh, how he longed for them to be simple figments of his imagination. But he had seen the horrors of that place. Of the waking nightmare brought about by their shared Hextech dream.

Using what little remaining strength he possessed to pry himself off the ground and back into a standing position, he continued towards the gleaming dome in the distance. Ravaged as his mind was by flickers of the truth of his environment, he pushed ahead, his heart racing as he was startled by the act of walking into a group of comune dwellers. He drew his weapon, aiming it at one of the misshapen creatures that stood before him. So clear in his mind and yet something felt off. He closed the maw of the corrupted Mercury Hammer, taking in the sight of a young boy before him. A shudder lurched up his body as his stomach turned. 

Another child. Not again. It was always a child.

Rushing toward the golden dome, he slowly made his way inside. A heavy sigh shuddered past his lips as he lifted the handle of the hammer, his back aching from the endeavor as he swallowed and readied himself for the brutality he would eminently commit. His body quaked like a weak branch in a storm at the thought of what he was about to do. Could he look Viktor in the eyes and watch as they dimmed, the life leaving his body as a direct result of his action? Would it be a merciful kill, one faithful strike that would serve as the guillotine for his execution, snuffing out his brilliance in a single, painless strike? 

Was it wrong to say he hoped so? He didn’t want Viktor to suffer. The last thing he’d ever wanted was to make Viktor suffer.

The more he pondered it, the less he wanted to. This had to be done. He’d sworn to stop Viktor, and this was the only surefire method of accomplishing that goal that he could fathom. No matter the cost to himself, he had to end things here and now. For the sake of the very city they’d always aimed to make a brighter future for by virtue of their shared dream Oh, how had it come to this?

He stepped through the dark passage and into the brilliant light of the central sphere. No doubt the place that Viktor would reside. He didn’t need to ask the members of the comune who their leader was. Who else could it be? To enshrine in them the virtues of blacksmithing and botany in the form of agriculture and construction, both branches of their singular interests. Viktor always had such a way with plants. It was no wonder that fragments of those interests should manifest here. Even the dome that had been constructed for him to take up residence in resembled the Hexgate. Their magnum opus. And a dark, golden reflection of that masterwork. A masterpiece that now threatened to destroy everything and yet the thing they’d put so many sleepless nights and priceless memories into the construction of. Oh, why had their beautiful dream been cursed from its inception? It had been such a beautiful thing once upon a time. But that felt like a lifetime ago now. Long before the pit he’d plunged into. Before the Hexcore. Before the cruel realities of the world had been laid bare before them. Better days.

But as Jayce stood at the heart of the comune, a sense of disquietude gradually trickled into him. This structure was… empty. There was no furniture. There were no decorations. No other entrances were apparent to him from where he stood. Instead, he was greeted with an unshakable sense that something integral had vanished from the place where he now stood. Something unspeakable was at work here. Something undeniably sinister.

Retreating the way he’d entered, he stepped out into the blinding daylight, his head slamming yet again as he felt his stomach lurch. With willpower alone, he managed not to collapse and vomit, instead steadying himself and using his free hand to rub his face and scalp in an upward motion, shaking his head back and forth as if to rid himself of the kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that plagued his troubled mind. Would these attacks ever stop, or was this another aspect of his self-made hell? Only time would tell, and the capacity for optimism has long since left him.

A man with short, shaggy reddish-brown hair approached him in much the same way that one would approach a manic dog; with an abundance of caution and a low, gentle voice. He seemed sympathetic and worried, but vaguely displeased by what he saw.

“Please, sir. This is a place of peace. Of rest. I’d ask that you-”

Jayce sighed. Ah, so that was what this was about. Still, as taken aback as he was by the request, he understood. No one here seemed to be armed. It was impressive that he’d approached someone as potentially dangerous as he was at all, with that reality taken into consideration. And judging by his face, this wasn’t the first time it had happened.

“Where’s Viktor?” He was tired. He didn’t mean to come off as curt to the man, but he was operating on the vestiges of the adrenaline that he’s costed on to make it this far. He didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t delay lest he come to his senses and lose his resolve. Remaining diligent was his only recourse against the nightmare that unfolded around him.

The man shifted into a more formal position, clasping his fingers together behind his back as he did a half-decent job of concealing how thrown off he was by Jayce’s wild-eyed stare and his feral demeanor. To look into his amber brown eyes was to delve into the depths of madness itself, and to do so unflinchingly took resolve. A resolve that Jayce would have admired if he’d been cognisant of just how out of sorts he appeared. He had some concept, but no concrete idea of just how deranged he appeared.

“Our Herald… He has gone from us. To where, we do not know, but… “ He admitted sheepishly, unable to hide the tinge of sadness and concern in his voice.

Jayce’s pupals momentarily widened in surprise before he let out an exhausted huff. He didn’t need to ask the man who stood before him if this was typical behavior. It wasn’t. Now the uneasy air about the commune made perfect sense. They’d misplaced their messia.

“But?”

The robed man with the auburn hair looked from side to side, hesitant. He did not wish to speak the words that he was about to speak. “He vanished not long after the Noxians arrived.”

“I see.” He suddenly felt eyes on his back. The Noxians. He’d seen a handful of them on patrols as he’d ventured into the depths of the Undercity, but now it made better sense.  “Do you think he just left with them?”

There was no hesitation as the robed man shook his head, his eyes flickering and shifting in rainbow hues. There was a seriousness that had not been there moments ago. All sense of diplomacy evaporated as he leaned in just a smidgen, keeping his voice low as he sighed and shook his head again, this time more vigorously than before.

“I would not like to make accusations but… they entered one of the domes. The conservatory over there that our Herald so often frequents…” He gestured towards a domed structure not far from where they stood. The emerald stained glass that its roof was partially constructed with appeared to be mottled with holes as a means to invite fresh air and sunshine in. “ I saw them carry something out. Not long after a transport of some sort left here.”

Viktor always had such a way with plants…

Now things were starting to add up. But at the same time, they genuinely weren’t. Judging by the sense of unease that enveloped every particle of air in the commune, Viktor’s sudden disappearance was as unannounced as it was ominous. This was out of character for him. Everyone who hadn’t seen something was still suspicious, but they were keeping as quiet as possible about it. To maintain an air of normality, if ever such a thing existed in the first place.

“No one tried to stop them?”

“As I said, this is a place of peace. Our Herald was very clear that there would be no violence within the walls of our sanctum. Not even for his sake.” He looked down at the ground, disheartened. His concern for their wayward leader was more apparent than ever.

Jayce eyed him linguistically, making a mental note of the markings that covered his face. They looked like… fingertips. He noticed the pattern that the flowing metal patchwork on his body took; how much of his body it had covered. His condition, whatever it had been, had seemingly been mended by Viktor’s influence. To the extent that the Arcane mended anything. But if his faith in his savior was a result of this treatment, then he couldn’t help but understand. And wonder if Viktor truly understood the ramifications of what he’d done to these people.

They seemed content. Happy, even. But something was just missing from them.

“Uh huh,” He nodded, clenching his jaw and squinching his eyes shut momentarily as another disorienting wave of incomprehensible arcane energy pulsed through his frayed mind, fragmenting it further. He huffed in frustration as it passed, shuddering as he slowly reopened his eyes one at a time and fixated them on his conversation partner.

What had happened here?

“I am genuinely sorry for the Herald’s absence, as I am certain he is as well. I’m sure he would be more than happy to help you with… “ The commune member gestured vaguely towards Jayce, unsure of how best to describe his current condition. But his conviction that anything that might be ailing Jayce could be addressed by their wayward leader was as unsurprising as it was founded. From what the tired man could make out, everyone here seemed to have been touched by the arcane. Touched by Viktor. By the Hexcore and whatever terrible will it wished to exert upon these people. He wished he understood what was going on here.

It was time to get some answers.

“Where are the Noxians?” Jayce would start with the obvious culprits. It wouldn’t be as simple as waltzing up to their door and politely asking for his missing partner’s whereabouts, but… “And how long have they been here? How long has he been gone?”

“Since this time yesterday on both accounts. Give or take a few hours for their arrival. They have an encampment nearby, but I must advise against visiting it. They are well armed and you appear to be… alone.”

Jayce grumbled under his breath, huffing heavily in annoyance as fatigue set in faster and faster due to how long he’d been stationary. Yes. He was certainly that. Alone.

That being said, nothing about this situation sat right to him. What were the Noxians doing down here at the bottom of the trenches? And what could they possibly want with Viktor? Viktor who didn’t so much as entertain the notion of violence, let alone participate in it. Nothing about that had changed during his absence. If anything, his pacificism had seemingly been doubled down upon to the point of it actively endangering him. Their presence there was so out of place. Had they ventured to this place in search of something else and he’d simply been a casualty along the way?

He exhaled heavily. It didn’t make sense to him. What value could Viktor in particular have to…

The reality of the situation hit him like a stone to the back of the skull.

Ambessa.

Mel had warned him about her involvement with the higher houses of Piltover. About how she’d been attempting to maneuver her way into the good graces of its governing body through Salo. Salo who he’d made short work of at the gates. Who had shown him a small glimpse of Viktor’s newfound power upon his arrival back in his own timeline. Ambessa had tried as much with him not long before everything had gone so horribly wrong. She was the only person who he could imagine would make a play at Viktor specifically. But did she have the motive? Was she aware of his knowledge of Hextech? Who could have told her? The vast majority of the general public didn’t acknowledge Viktor’s existence, even less his vast contributions. Something that had always irked him on his former lab partner's behalf. Even if Mel was her daughter, he highly doubted that she would risk putting Viktor in such danger. Her relationship with her mother made that possibility even less likely. It hadn’t been her. But someone had brought Viktor to her attention one way or another.

They were a legion of war at the beag and call of the matron of the battlefield. Nothing was beyond her knowledge or reach. Her presence here proved as much. Who else would march a Noxian detachment into a place as inhospitable and unknown to the world above as the depths of the trenches? They had to be making a play at Hextech through Viktor.

It was the only motive he could think of. But then it wasn’t, was it?

Jayce remembered the first time he’d met Ambessa. She’d summoned him for a meeting in a bathhouse, of all places. A bathhouse where he’d been attended to by a young man who looked mysteriously like Viktor, if he was willing to be honest with himself. He’d nearly mistaken him for his friend at first sight. It was clear that she had a type, but surely…

For some inexplicable reason, he felt his blood boil at the prospect. He was there to confront Viktor and do what needed to be done, yes… but the prospect of him potentially being in danger, of someone being in a position to harm him. For him to be exploited for the nefarious ends of an insidious warmonger. He gritted his teeth in anger.

He needed to find Viktor. Now.

—

A Taste of the Divine

(Free Use + Public Sex) Viktor gleefully reminds Jayce that being the chosen consort of the Herald comes with perks. Jayce happily obliges. Or, at least he will if Viktor can manage to stay quiet.

Notes: Honestly, not much I can add here other than to say that the Hexcore augmented Viktor's physiology slightly more in this fic than it might've in the show. But who knows lol! Hex lubricant is a hell of a thing, and Viktor is part machine, right? So his body secreting lubricant makes perfect sense. Yes, I do need professional help. Why are you asking? Come hang out with me on Bsky, Tumblr, or Discord if you wish to help reduce my remaining sanity to zero quicker lol I'm always happy to hear from your all! https://linktr.ee/SkvaderArts

—

Against his better judgement, Jayce joined the commune.

He'd tried. Truly, he had. But the moment their eyes met, he was enraptured, entangled in the inescapable web that was his boundless affection for Viktor. His overwhelming sentimentality that could not be tempered by any earthly force. He'd thrashed about; he'd fought the magnetic pull between them with all the strength that he could muster, but as duty became obfuscated by fear, and fear was gradually replaced with fondness, his resolve wavered, and he was gently lulled into the sweet embrace of the one he held so dear.

“Don't look up” would've been an invaluable piece of advice at the time. A stark warning against the very thing that would eventually undo him. But it was far too late now. In hindsight, Jayce should've known better. He'd always thought Viktor had pretty eyes. So how could he be expected to gaze into them and snuff out the light within like a smouldering wick pressed between his fingertips?

Perhaps destruction wasn't the only path forward. Perhaps…

But that had been a lifetime ago. Or, it felt like it, at least. Now, that day was nothing more than a fleeting dream. A memory tugging at his subconscious, muddled with so many other things. The cave. The ruined world he'd spent months trapped in. The look on that child's face in the Shimmer refinery as the life had faded from his eyes, and the look of deranged grief and madness in his mother's as she’d taken her revenge.

Jayce awoke with a start, panting heavily and drenched in sweat despite the abundance of cool air. He blinked, the haze of sleep clouding his vision like a film over glass. It always felt so strange when he first awoke for the day. There was always this tangible undercurrent of otherness that he couldn't shake. Always that moment of apprehension where he knew with grim certainty that he would open his eyes and be greeted by the stone walls of his personal purgatory, and the dying flame of a fading campfire. 

Nothing was ever different when coherence returned. Still, he waited for the inevitable. This was a beautiful dream. Nothing more.

His breathing slowed, and his eyes adjusted to the scant natural light. A cloudy day, if the oculus above was anything to go by. He typically rose with the sun, but it appeared that he'd slept in today. And why wouldn't he? The bed was comfortable, something that had become an immediate priority upon his arrival. There hadn't been a scrap of furniture anywhere to be seen when he'd stumbled into the commune, Mercury Hammer in hand. Murder on his mind. But despite it all, despite the grave nature of his transgressions against him, Viktor had extended an olive branch. Had invited him to stay. Insisted that he be comfortable and well cared for. And in time, Jayce had capitulated and allowed Viktor to fuss over him. Had seen his vision and the power behind his voice, flawed as its execution might be. Had, against his better judgement, agreed to stay and join the commune rather than destroy it. Perhaps the truest path forward was to mend what was broken rather than destroy it in its entirety.

Still, Jayce hadn’t allowed Viktor to heal him. On that, he would not budge. He’d been touched by the Arcane. Seen what it was capable of firsthand. It could repair the physical damage done to his body, it could halt the ravages of time, but it could never make him whole. Not like Viktor could.

Viktor didn’t press the issue despite being baffled by it. On some level, he seemed to understand, even if he longed to take his pain. But he respected his decision, something that had made Jayce quietly guilty ever since. If only he’d afforded him the same respect all those months ago. For Viktor’s sake, not his own. No matter how painful it would’ve been. But even now in hindsight, he knew what choice he would’ve made if he could rewind time. And despite the inherent selfishness of it, despite the consequences he now knew it would induce, he wouldn’t choose differently. And he was ashamed to admit that he wasn’t ashamed of that.

There had been compromises along the way. Harsh truths they'd been forced to confront. Old wounds that festered and became inflamed until they were expunged entirely. And with it came the understanding that their unrequited love was far from one-sided. The hardest part had been admitting as much, but the reunification that followed was a thing beyond words. Beyond the mortal concept of union. They were destined, their paths converging once again as they vowed to never stray from one another again. From their shared vision of what progress for those who needed it most could become. From their loyalty to one another above all else.

Yawning, Jayce rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reflexively reached over to the opposite side of the bed, only to find it woefully empty. And in its place, a note, gently scrawled in Viktor’s flowing, cultivated penmanship.

Jayce.

You rarely indulge in fitless slumber. I thought it best to allow such a novelty to continue for as long as possible. You've been fatigued as of late. You don't conceal it as well as you think you do. And I am glad for that.

Ah. Another matter. I would be remiss not to remind you that I am at your disposal should you require me at any time for any reason. Make of that statement what you will.

You know where to find me. I trust I will see you soon.

Your consort, 

Viktor.

Consort. It was an impossibly loaded designation replete with such magnitude and purpose, but one with which he was gradually becoming accustomed to. Every member of the commune addressed him as such, marveling in awe at him as he passed, just as they did with Viktor. A position that no amount of loyalty could make attainable. A singular honor bestowed upon no other, and with it, privileges that were only his to relish.

He was the only one the Herald allowed to touch him. The only one his fingertips had graced more than necessary. The only one who called him by his true name and who, he in turn, addressed to an equivalent degree. The only one permitted within the consecrated reliquary of their exalted leader. The only one he allowed to lie at his side. He was Viktor’s heart.

And today, Jayce would touch him.

Jayce didn’t put much thought into it. Smirking as he carefully set the note aside, he collected himself, donned his attire, and slipped on his leg brace, adjusting it. Jayce wore a combination of Viktor’s colors and his own. Red with accents of gold tempered by equal amounts of blue. Something else uniquely his. No one else wore the Herald’s colors. Jayce couldn’t help but notice the way his smirk deepened at the notion, something about the possessive implications of it arousing something inside of him.

Viktor had always been divine, even before he’d become the Herald. And Jayce was the sole person in this universe whom Viktor wanted. Who was permitted to partake from Viktor in such a way. Who he relished the touch of and craved intimacy with, though he was too fond of games to verbalize that. Jayce was not a tool to be utilized; he was a hand, fingers intertwined with Viktor’s that moved every piece alongside him in equal standing.

Something about being chosen stirred something within him every time the thought crossed his mind. He was wanted. Longed for. He wanted for nothing here but more time to spend with Viktor. And today, he had that, even if the context he had in mind was a bit… Unorthodox.

Making his way to the greenhouse, Jayce paused momentarily outside the door. From the height of his eyeline, he was provided with a peek into what lay on the other side. A vibrant array of plants in a menagerie of colors. The faint trickle of water. And at the center of it all, a silhouette. He smiled.

Creeping plants trailed across the ground, and vines and moss climbed the walls of the domed space. Portholes providing light and fresh air from outside riddled the roof and walls in seemingly randomized intervals about halfway up, a design that was as aesthetically pleasing to the eye as it was difficult to comprehend from a design standpoint. Surely there was a method to Viktor’s madness in regards to his designs for the commune’s structures. He’d always been something of an artist, doodling in his notebook even back during their Hextech heyday. The Arcane had influenced the design; that much was clear as day. But Jayce only wished that Viktor could grant him a glimpse into his mind so that he could better comprehend how his ideas took shape.

Jayce slipped inside. The greenhouse was Viktor’s sanctuary. A blessed retreat he could hide away in from the troubles of the world. Perhaps the crowning achievement of his work to better Zaun’s environment. In a place once overwhelmed by toxic fumes and pollution, there was now life. In defiance of what once was, there was now everything that could be.

A cursory glance around the space told him everything that he needed to know. They were alone, as he’d expected. It was rare that anyone came into Viktor’s hallowed sanctuary, but Jayce still had to be sure before he acted on their mutual desire for one another.

Viktor stood with his back to him a few paces away, running his fingers delicately across the surface of a large leaf that he seemed to be assessing. Utterly lost in thought and focused on the task at hand. He didn’t react to Jayce’s presence in the slightest, almost as though he didn’t exist. Until the precise moment that Jayce reached around from behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Jayce.” He sounded so amused by the notion that his lover actually thought he’d managed to sneak up on him.

“Viktor.” Jayce quipped back effortlessly, leaning in to rest his chin against the top of his shoulder. “Have you been waiting for me?”

“Not at all,” Viktor retorted dryly, only just managing to conceal the smirk that spread across his lips. He turned his head to the side, pretending to focus on the plant he was examining, but Jayce knew better.

Today was going to be fun.

“Oh, well in that case,” Jayce said with an almost sarcastic degree of feigned injury, crossing his left arm across Viktor’s chest. He leaned in, pressing the front of his pelvis against Viktor’s lower back as he gripped him tightly, allowing just enough leeway for Viktor to continue his work. He allowed him to feel him; to detect his breath as it ghosted across the back of Viktor’s ear as he purred in a hushed tone, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Then I suppose you aren’t interested, are you, Viktor? My mistake.”

Viktor went still, the faint purple underglow of the ebb and flow of Arcane energy that coursed like a current through his body fluctuating momentarily before he regarded Jayce out of the corner of his eye. The look held no ambiguity. Good. They were on the same page, then.

The exterior of Viktor’s body was plagued by a woeful lack of broader sensation, robbed of the capacity to detect temperature, texture, or contract unless it was prevalent. The inside of him had no such issue.

“... Wait.”

“Yes? Can I help you with something…” Jayce asked as he kissed the space just below Viktor’s ear, the timbre of his voice low and sultry. Was it sacrilege to seduce an oracle? “How may I serve you… My Herald.”

Viktor shuddered. Despite their titles, they never used them with one another. There was no need. Pretence of authority simply didn’t exist between them. They remained, and always had been, equals. But between the cage-like grasp of Jayce’s arms, his manner of speaking, and the press of him against Viktor’s backside as Jayce made his intentions crystal clear, he felt what little purely human flesh that still remained on his face and neck redden in response despite his best efforts to appear impartial. Something in his chest fluttered. Jayce had his permission, but he was still going to ask before he took something.

Steering him forward to sit against the planter they stood before, Jayce watched Viktor sit. He was the very image of divine grace and elegance, sitting with one leg overtop the other as he allowed his hand to rest against his neck. Jayce leaned in and seized him in a stifling kiss, savoring the feel of his soft lips and the taste of the strange metallic tang of his spittle as he delved into the depths of Viktor’s mouth. He guided him onto his back, planting his palms down on either side of his meager frame as he devoured him hungrily, searching his mouth like a prospector delving deep for gold. As if every inch of his body wasn’t gilded and glorious already.

“I’ll give you whatever you want. But you have to ask me for it. Nicely.” Jayce hummed as he pulled away, parting Viktor’s robes just enough to reveal him. He dipped low, raising Viktor’s right leg over his shoulder as he tilted him to be partially on his side. Viktor grasped the side of the earthen planter with his hand, regarding him with a bemused look on his face.

“Jayce...” Jayce could hear the way he blushed. It was precious.

“And here I thought you already knew what you wanted.” He proclaimed with a fraudulent air of sanctimoniousness. It was all an act; a performance for their mutual enjoyment. But nothing about the heady look of desire that bloomed in Jayce’s gaze as he lined himself up with Viktor’s entrance and his eyes burrowed into his very soul spoke any falsehoods.

Viktor smiled warmly, reaching up to brush the back of his hand against the side of Jayce’s face and neck, his own eyes heavy with unspoken desire. Gods. It was nothing new to him at this point, but Viktor was frequently taken aback by just how earthshatteringly fetching a full beard looked on Jayce. How did he keep finding ways to become more attractive? Incredible.

Viktor’s eyes turned fully golden brown again, gleaming like polished amber in the cascading sunlight. “I want you. As I always have. As I always will.”

Pausing for a moment, Jayce simply stared at him in adoration, eyes brimming with a complex sequence of emotions that he could neither properly process nor rectify. He kissed him delicately; hungrily as though he could swallow him whole should he muster enough devotion.

And then he pressed in and watched as Viktor’s pupils dilated fully.

He took in a sharp intake of air as he pressed in slowly but unyieldingly, just the way Viktor liked it. Feeling the smaller man’s legs tremble. The warmth of him was intoxicating, as was the downy slickness of his muscles as he glided into him. One of the few upsides to the Hexcore’s meddling was the way it adapted Viktor’s biology to suit Viktor’s purposes. The way it repaired and restructured his damaged spine and leg, and mended his damaged lungs. This was one of them. A discovery they’d made purely by accident one night when things got a bit too hot and heavy too quickly.

Jayce often doubted the validity of his reality. But at moments like this, all doubt faded into the ether. For how could his weary, trauma-addled mind ever hope to bring a fantasy of this magnitude into existence? How could it conceive of the sensation of how Viktor would feel around him as he pressed in up to the hilt? The way Viktor’s chest vibrated like the low, seismic hum of the Hexgates as he purred in reaction to the feel of him. The scent of ozone and cobalt mixed with Arcane energy as Jayce leaned in and drilled ever deeper before withdrawing and doing it all over again.

Viktor was a god. And Jayce was the only one who could undo him.

Viktor’s breath caught in his chest as he used the back of his hand to stifle a cry. Jayce reached up and batted his hand away, grasping his cheeks and chin between his thumb and index finger as he shushed him soothingly, his pace increasing dramatically. That look in Viktor’s eyes did unspeakable things to Jayce. He gave him a fierce stare, his half-lidded eyes drifting from Viktor’s stomach, chest, and face towards the exterior of the greenhouse walls as he raised a brow at Viktor disapprovingly. He didn’t need to point out that the greenhouse was not sound resistant.

But as his eyes drifted over Viktor again, his gaze softened. He genuinely pitied the plight of any soul who wasn’t fortunate enough to be him. To look upon Viktor with reverence as he trembled in their arms, breath coming out in thick, uneven puffs as Jayce brushed against precisely the right spot inside of him. To worship every inch of his body as though it were a holy sepulcher in a sacred place lost to time. To offer oneself to him, boy and soul; flesh and bone. The air hummed with energy, and Viktor’s eyes almost seemed to glow as his body pulsed with cosmic energy, the rhythm growing stronger, faster, and more pervasive with each thrust of Jayce’s hips. His head fell back against his shoulder, his insides clenching around Jayce as the taller man brushed the hair out of Viktor’s face and kissed him deeply.

“Let me see you,” Jayce commanded firmly but affectionately. It was time.

Viktor couldn’t respond. Couldn’t muster enough air to form a proper response. Instead, he merely nodded and obliged, his walls crumbling as the muscles in his sprinter clenched around Jayce’s length like a vice in unpredictable intervals. His entire body glowed violet as surges of pleasure elongated by the strained motion of Jayce’s shaft penetrating him in time with his spasms overtook him, dragging a scream from him that Jayce had to hastily muffle with one of the trails of his own robe in tandem with the palm of his hand. Jayce rested his head against Viktor’s shoulder and chest, gasping breathlessly at the sensation. He released deep within him, shuddering feebly as an overabundance of sensation overtook him. Viktor moaned deeply, slumping over as he milked him for every drop he contained, his thighs quaking like the membrane of a drum as he lost himself in the sensation. In the sound of Jayce breathing against him as he grasped his small hip as though it were the only lifeline in a passing storm.

It was as if his body had been engineered for this. It almost seemed to adjust to him in new ways each time they made love, his body changing to better suit their pleasure. As if his passage had been sculpted for the sole purpose of dragging an earthshattering orgasm from him. Ever evolving. Ever glorious. Time and time again, Viktor proved himself to be a marvel.

Neither of them dared move for the time being, let alone fathom speaking. Exhausting weighted heavily on them, settling into flesh and bone; metal and alloy ligaments. Viktor let out an amused huff as Jayce slowly slid free of him, now achingly limp and nearly overstimulated. Gazing up at him in nothing short of awe as Viktor regarded him in wordless adoration. He reached up and rested his hand against the back of his shoulder, rubbing broad, reassuring circles against his skin as he traced the silhouette of his shoulder blade. Viktor closed his eyes and allowed his body to go completely limp, humming softly in satisfaction.

Jayce huffed back at him, pressing a kiss against his lips. Smiling.

One could only hope that no one was in need of them for the foreseeable future. Neither of them could stand, let alone walk or perform miracles. No. For now, they would remain as they were; entangled in one another’s arms as Viktor idly stroked Jayce’s back, careful not to press against the long gash that had yet to fully heal. Jayce kissed along the contours of Viktor’s neck and jaw, making sure to mark him with proof of his everlasting reverence. There was nothing between them anymore but silence and sincerity; nothing but the subtle sound of breath and trickling water.

If love was a wellspring, then their waters were overflowing.

—

When people say “get a room,” this isn’t quite what they mean, guys…