#orphaned wips

“Thanks again Vik, you’re a life saver.”Jayce said again as Viktor fished for his keys.

“Of course, I know you would do the same.” Standing outside his door, he tried to shake the small unease he had over inviting Jayce into his space. He didn’t invite people over often. His space, too small, too cramped for entertaining. Never mind that Jayce always seemed ready to invite him over to his place instead. It had never been an issue. But now...Jayce shifted his pack as Viktor opened the door for the two of them. “Did they say how long it would take to clear the water damage?”

“Mmm maybe a week, the flooding was really extensive.” Jayce set his bag down in the front hall and began to take in the space.

He really should have cleaned up, books sat scattered on almost every flat surface available. Half finished experiments and notes taking up the rest of the space. Others might find it cluttered, but to him this was just how it was.

Jayce slowly turned back to him, shooting him a thankful smile, “Seriously, thank you, I-”

“Jayce, if you say thank you one more time I will start throwing things. Hm?” It was strange seeing someone else in his apartment, but somehow Jayce didn’t seem out of place. But still he was a guest and it was the least he could do to make him feel at home. “So em, would you like something to drink?”

Jayce had wandered over to his bookshelf now, eyes roving the titles in his haphazard organizational system. “I’d hate to impose, but after today a stiff drink would be great.”

“Of course.” They didn’t have too many opportunities to drink together, but this was actually the perfect time to break out the gifted single cask liquor he had been nursing by himself.

He pulled it down from his kitchen all the while watching Jayce’s careful appraisal of his space. There wasn’t too much to see, his main living space containing his front hall, kitchen, and living room, the bed room and wash room on either side. He watched Jayce gently pull down a record or two, only to place them back where he found them. Pausing in front of the few framed portraits that he had, before going back over to his bookcase and studying it. Viktor joined him, bringing over their drinks.

“Ah thanks,” Jayce said, accepting the glass, “Is that a first edition Barkoff?”

Of all the author’s for Jayce to say, that one was not expected, “Em, I’m not sure.”

Jayce was already reaching up and pulling down the tome. It was a book of collected poetry. Viktor had learned that he was a bit morose by most of Piltover’s standards, but he had a certain way of framing hope in that darkness that left an impression on him.

Reverently Jayce opened the book to the book plate, “Ah there, it’s a second edition. This is still amazing. My mom was always a fan.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, she read him a lot after my dad passed,” Jayce said quietly as he gently flipped the delicate pages to a seemingly random spot. “Tried to get me to appreciate it, but I think I was a little too young at the time.” he said, wrinkling his nose.

He gave Viktor a small sad smile before closing the book, “Actually would you mind if I kept this out? I’d love to read a bit tonight.”

“Of course.” He didn’t peg Jayce as one for poetry but he supposed they would both be learning a bit more about each other tonight.

“Thanks.” He tucked the book under his arm, and nodded towards the couch, “Shall we?”

After that, the night flew by. The alcohol did wonders to relieve any of Viktor’s lingering nerves, and for Jayce to feel right at home in someone else’s apartment. Going so far as to undo his tie and vest as the alcohol raised his temperature.

“You have to believe me, total accident! I didn’t even realize-” Jayce stopped mid sentence as Viktor’s clock rang out, signaling the first hour of the night. “Oh wow, that late already?”

“It would seem so,” Truth be told Viktor was getting a bit tired himself, “I might just turn in, you’re welcome to stay up if you like.”

“Oh sure...Yeah, maybe I’ll open up Barkoff for a bit.” His cheeks were a bit pink from the drink, and it softened him in a way Viktor rarely saw in the lab. It wasn’t often he saw a man as large as Jayce looking well...cute.

He excused himself to get ready for bed, prodding at that errant thought that crossed his mind. Jayce...being cute.

Over the years Jayce had become various things to him, at first a tentative bridge to greatness, then partner, then eventual friend. He had become someone very important to him, to the point where his involvement in his life was almost something he didn’t think about. His appearance, a non-issue. He was handsome, that was a given, so why did it seem that calling him ‘cute’ was a step too far? Jayce was fierce, and stubborn, a powerhouse, and yet... cute didn’t look too bad on him either.

He was still thinking it over, as he left the washroom, “If you-” but the words died in his throat.

Jayce was sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under him, a slight pink tint to his cheeks, as he perused the pages of his book. And sitting across the bridge of his nose was a very delicate pair of glasses. As his eyes roamed the page, a hand went up slowly to his slightly open mouth. His thumb moved towards his lips, as a delicate pink tongue extended and pressed itself against the pad of his thumb, before tucking itself away as he turned the page.

Why...

Why did he want that to happen again?

Jayce’s vision stuttered a bit, before seeming to realize he was being watched. He looked up with a lopsided smile, “Oh, hey. Did you- sorry did you say something? I think I got a little caught up in it.”

And the smile, Viktor could feel his breath catching... He was so warm. So stripped down. Not weighed down by obligations or deadlines. He had seen Jayce elated of course, but this was somehow different. The embodiment of a patch of sunshine.

“Em...I-” He had to look away, “I was just saying...” He closed his eyes. “The, em, washroom it’s free.”

“Oh alright!” Jayce said brightly, setting the book aside.

Viktor kept his eyes down as he made his way to the bedroom, but it didn’t help that Jayce put a hand on his shoulder as they passed. A small squeeze that normally would have been welcome, but now felt like a burn.

Even in his room he felt as though he had to dress for bed quickly lest Jayce walk in.

Walk in and do what exactly, hm?

That somehow gave him more pause, what was he afraid of? Jayce walking in and-

And

And

The thought of Jayce’s hands on his person. Fingertips grazing over skin. His large hands lingering, warming him up inside and out. All the while being watched by Jayce’s honeyed eyes, behind those delicate frames.

Oh no.

Quickly he buttoned his nightshirt, and started pulling out quilts and pillows. Something, anything, to busy himself away from that line of thinking. Of all the damnable times for his libido to insist on being front and center. It had just… been awhile. As soon as Jayce was out of his apartment he could make plans, call up old flames, to get whatever this was out of his system. But until then, he would just have to endure.

“Viktor.”

He turned to find Jayce standing in the doorway. Shirtless. His soft sleep bottoms, sitting obscenely low on his waist. Tearing his eyes away, somehow only made things worse however as he saw Jayce was still wearing his glasses, his disheveled hair falling boyishly on his face.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any tops big enough would you? I think forgot to pack one.”

“Erm,” his eyes dipped to scan across his well built chest before remembering he shouldn’t be staring. He flicked his eyes to the armoire, clothing, clothing, every thought seemed to be forming at a glacial pace, his clothing, he didn’t have anything big enough for Jayce. Nothing that he could also wear to bed at least. “Apologies, no, I don’t think I do.”

“Ahh,” Jayce let out in a sigh, “I figured as much, just thought I would check. Thankfully it’s not too cold tonight. Maybe I can swing by Tolbertson’s tomorrow and pick one up.” He looked towards the mass of quilts and pillows and smiled, “Those for me?”

“Erm, yes. I thought perhaps you could take the couch.”

Jayce’s brow wrinkled slightly, “Viktor I don’t think I can fit on your couch. But this is more than enough for the floor, I’ll just sleep next to you.”

The fluttery nervous feeling intensified as Jayce breezed past and started unfolding the quilts into a makeshift pallet.

“I don’t think that will be comfortable. Surely the sitting room would be more-”

“V, it’s okay, really!” Jayce looked over his shoulder, “Plus this way it will be more like a sleepover. More fun, you know?”

Viktor didn’t have the heart, or the courage, to tell him how he really felt, so he watched as Jayce assembled in silence then got into bed himself.

“Do you normally go to bed right away or…” Viktor looked over to see Jayce had brought the book in with him and was settling down beside him.

“I- “ well, best not to tell Jayce what he actually did before bed, “I can stay up for a bit.”

“I just, well, I noticed you had a bookmark in one particular poem, I was wondering, is it a favorite?”

Viktor couldn’t recall the particulars but he might have done something like that, “Read it?”

Jayce pushed up his glasses and read,

“I cannot see you,

Though I wish it were not so

I remember when your light

Enchanted and so blinded me

Lead me through field and pasture

Through bramble and branch

Atop the hills and mountains

Seeing sights I could nare dream

A beacon

Through my heart

We were twin stars

So preoccupied with my change

I barely noticed you

Burning

Up

And away

Out of sight

I hold the light now

For both of us”

Viktor remembered the poem now. It was probably about the death of his first wife. It was good but certainly not a favorite.

“I’m actually not sure why that one is bookmarked. That poem is fine enough… but em I think I prefer the one with the sunrise?” He had trouble recalling the specifics, but reading it always felt like the metaphorical clouds were parting. It was hopeful.

“Dawn Untread?”

“I believe so.” He looked down to see Jayce looking up at him.

“I like that one too.” He smiled shyly and turned back to the book. “Don’t worry I won’t be up too long. I’ll probably pass out before I realize it.”

Viktor wished he could relate. The sudden jarring flash of attraction to his partner had sent his heart and mind into free fall. He lay back and trained his eyes on the ceiling. He had to move past this. How on earth was he going to host Jayce for several more days, not to mention working with him for eight hours. At least this week they would be wrapped up in individual projects. Jayce was handling the outsourcing of some of the more larger hexgate pieces, and he was focusing on power storage configuration. Yes, maybe that could take his mind off things.

The problem was the storage needed to be both compact but allow cooling from air flow. Underground storage could work, however Piltover already stood on dubious ground, ironically Zaun, had a stronger foundation from which to dig. Which it used to great effect with the lanes.

Pitover did have height however, perhaps a vertical configuration would be more conducive to their needs. He ruminated on this for a bit until out of his peripheral vision he saw a hand reaching for his side table lamp.

“Jayce?” The hand groped the base unsuccessfully.

He looked over the side to see Jayce sleepily peering up at him, “Oh Viktor! I thought you were asleep.”

“Would you like me to turn out the lamp?” Jayce’s fingers were still quite a few millimeters away.

“Yes please.” He didn’t quite withdraw his fingers, even as Viktor flipped the switch. The temptation to reach out and brush them in the dark crossed his mind. But lasted only a moment as Jayce’s hand moved back into the darkness.

It was quiet, Jayce softly rustled against his blankets, then said a quiet, “Goodnight Viktor.”

It was so sweet and shy, it took him a moment to realize he should respond. “Goodnight Jayce.”

He rolled back to staring at the ceiling and held himself very still on the bed. Mind jumping between that soft ‘good night’ and the work that needed to be done in the coming week.

It didn’t take long for him to hear Jayce lightly snoring, a small rattle at the back of his throat, even and regular.

He was so achingly close. It had been a while since he had hosted another man in his bedroom. The sounds were both a comfort and a stressor.

He was so close. He rolled onto his side as quietly as he could manage. Jayce lay there, head tilted away, mouth slightly open, his unstyled hair gently cascading down his forehead. It seemed he had fallen asleep with his glasses on, sitting askew on his handsome face.

He looked so different. This was a far cry from the put together partner he saw nearly every day. The hard headed, forthright, scientist, he collaborated with. This was…

He looked like the type of men who usually caught his eye. Soft, shy, sweet, in the back of the library, eyes peering over their books a little too long to be just looking. More than once he had taken these young men out and then into his bed. They were like topside rain, clear, refreshing, and plentiful.

Jayce was none of these things. He was one in a million, complex, a hornets nest of ideas and plans, a million directions that all converged on a future he intended to carve in his image.

Sweet lovers were plentiful, but what would Jayce-

No.

Viktor scrambled back from the edge of the bed. Flinging himself onto his back, staring hard at the ceiling. He would not, could not, follow that line of thinking.

But.

He closed his eyes and there was Jayce. Smiling gently, hair softly tousled from it’s usual style, looking at him through those glasses. There was nothing terribly different about how he usually looked at him, but that was the problem wasn’t it? Jayce always looked at him like he was the world, often enough he chalked it up to Jayce’s straightforward nature. His expression betraying every facet of his thoughts. The genuine smile, the crinkle of his eyes, the look of someone who is happy to see you.

But now, those feelings, that sentiment seemed to morph. I’m happy to see you expressed as Jayce loomed over him. I’m glad you’re here, silently understood, as he touched his chest. Fingers raking down his sternum, I need you. Those eyes boring into him, unrelenting, transforming from shy, to determined, to lust, to-

Shit.

Shit. Shit shit shitshitshitshitSHIT. SHIT.

He was rock hard.

He felt so stupid.

Jayce was his partner. His friend. What the hell was he thinking? Imagining him- thinking of him like that. But he couldn’t shake it. Like a phantom the image flashed in his head. Jayce on his knees, hands on his thighs, spreading them, looking up at him shyly, hopefully, those damn glasses sliding down his nose-

Fuck.

There was nothing for it. He paused once again, holding his breath, listening to Jayce’s rhythmic breathing. If this errant idea wasn’t going to leave him he would just take care of it as quick as possible and be done with it.

He roughly shoved down his waistband and pulled out his cock. He was already so hard, even something rough and quick would tip him over the edge. It was easy enough to conjure up Jayce’s face as he began to pump. Jayce’s hands on his body, his shoulder, his back, his chest, surrounding him.

‘So good V’ Jayce said in his head.

A hot breath on the back of his neck, a strong broad chest being held against him. Mouth and teeth and tongue, nipping at his skin, he could almost feel the trail of bite marks and bruises Jayce was leaving along his body. His orgasm was building fast, just, one… more-

“Mmm V?”

The shock of an actual voice startled him into curling up like a dead bug. Knees and elbows tucking up to hide his embarrassment. He looked over to find Jayce blearily peering over the side of the bed, his glasses barely hanging off his nose. His heart dropped into his stomach and began to rot.

“Hey the floorsa little cold do you mind if ah-“ he mumbled before really taking a look at him. “What’s wrong?”

He wanted to die, sink into the bed, through the floors till he was underground choking on dirt. Buried alive hundreds of meters away from here. Away from Jayce and his stupid beautiful face and curious puppy dog eyes.

But of course that did not happen.

He winced and placed his cock back into his night clothes, trying not to make the movements too obvious. Jayce was looking at him,

—-

Jayce realizes Viktor was masterbating

—-

Jayce easily caught the pillow that was thrown, just another small humiliation on top of the very large pile. Viktor tucked up his knees and pressed his hands to his face. He felt as though he could combust.

“Are you…” Jayce said quietly, “embarrassed because I caught you? Or because it’s me?”

Viktor felt his stomach turn to lead, then sink lower and lower, until it seemed his intestines felt completely cold and crushed. His chest felt tight with shame, embarrassment, if Jayce had any decency he would leave. Let him ride out this humiliation on his own. But Jayce was tipsy, and too straightforward for his own good. He asked a question and wanted an answer.

“I-“ he could feel his voice croak. He cleared his voice and tried again. “I em, I’ve never seen you with glasses.”

“Oh…” Jayce said quietly, slightly confused. Then a second, more knowing, “Oh.”

Viktor raised his head, Jayce had a more pronounced blush now, and when they made eye contact he quickly looked away.

“Look, just- just give me moment, I’ll-“ he squeezed his eyes together, trying to get his brain to work. Think of something to make this better, “I’ll sleep on the couch. You can lock the door- Just, whatever makes you feel better-“

There was nothing to actually make this better though. He had screwed up well and thoroughly. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jayce wanted to find a motel instead. He acted like a creep, inviting him into his home, and doing that, acting like he was fifteen without a thought in his damn-

“Viktor.” Jayce said a bit loudly.

Viktor looked up to see Jayce staring at him. “Did you hear me?”

“Em, no, I didn’t.”

“I said, you don’t have to do that. You’re okay…I, um,” he fidgeted a bit looking at the floor, “well, wouldn’t mind helping.”

Viktor couldn’t comprehend it.

What.

What did that mean?

Helping. That- no. There was no conceivable way Jayce was actually suggesting what he thought.

Jayce looked up once, twice, letting out a nervous chuckle. “You okay? You look like I just solved the Diophantine equation.”

Viktor’s throat made a noise he wasn’t expecting, he closed his mouth and tried again, “What did you say?”

“I um, wouldn’t mind helping.” He shrugged, “I figure, I made you feel a certain way, so maybe I should help.”

The night had been going as well as it could. Jayce had talked to seven investors so far, and as a reward he started up a conversation with someone who didn’t just see him as a walking piece of their financial portfolio.

Mrs. Kiramman was telling him more about her latest holiday, when he felt as though someone was staring at him. As if someone had introduced a magnet to the equation, Jayce’s vision was pulled from Mrs. Kiramman to the door. Viktor was here.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking for someone. Probably someone he knew to stick to for the length of the party. He was wearing a gray suit Jayce was unfamiliar with and had done something to smooth down his hair, or at least a good amount of it. He looked great.

Counselor Kiramman followed his gaze. “Is that your infamous partner? I thought he didn’t do parties.” She asked.

“I’ll have to ask Mel what blackmail she had on him to make it happen.” He winked for good measure, at least so she thought it was a joke. He wouldn’t be surprised though if it ended up true. “If you’ll excuse me.”

The Counselor only nodded her head as he caught eyes with Viktor. Relief crossed his features before turning into a lopsided smile.

Before he could argue, Jayce walked up and caught him in a two armed hug. “Viktor! Good to see you! Never thought you would come!”

He pulled back to see Viktor a bit chagrined. “Yes…well, I can’t let you shoulder the burden all by yourself.” He looked around the room wary, as if he was already second guessing himself.

There were quite a few people looking back at them.

“Let’s get you some champagne, take the edge off yeah?” He slung an arm around his partner's shoulders as he led them away. Maybe he could pair Viktor off with Caitlyn, they had a good enough rapport. He still needed to finish his rounds with the rest of the investors before he could really spend time with the man.

“Oh there’s Caitlyn! Let’s say hi!” and off he steered the two of them.

---

“What is wrong with your partner?” Mel sidled up beside Jayce. Her fingers were a little too tight around the stem of her champagne glass.

“There’s nothing wrong with him.” Jayce countered. He looked over to the other man. Surrounded by patron Wilhelm and his secretaries. His face was a scowl and he was gesturing wildly. Viktor in his natural party habitat. “He hates parties.”

“He’s making a bit of a scene.” She looked sidelong at him. “I want you to do something about it.”

“Me?” Jayce let out a huff of a laugh at the idea, “I can’t control him. That’s why I told you not to insist he attend.”

He tipped a good portion of his champagne back. Viktor was really tearing into the man now, he wasn’t a huge investor but still who knows who would be in the war path next.

“Alright. I’ll never do it again, but please do something now.” She used her free hand to grip the back of his arm.

“Like what?” He looked down at her. He had worked with Viktor for years, relaxing was not a part of his vocabulary.

“Alcohol, hextech talk, you could even play seven minutes in heaven with him for all I care. Just take him down the hall and get him to calm down.” She gave him one last threatening squeeze and pushed him towards the other man.

He shot her one last look, but she was already turning away to shmooze someone else. He downed the last of his champagne hoping his flush would be attributed to the alcohol and not that last thing Mel had said. Sure he heard the rumors about the two of them. But they were just that, rumors, spread by school kids, not something Counselors should be hearing. As always he pushed the thought aside. Viktor was…

The thought dried up as he approached his partner and the now very uncomfortable Wilhelm. “Excuse me, I’m afraid I need to borrow Viktor for a moment.”

Viktor paused mid explanation, the endlessly mind numbing differences between water cooling and fan cooling for the hextech thermal vents, and simply nodded before stepping forward to join Jayce.

Wilhelm seemed relieved to say the least.

Jayce threw an arm around Viktors shoulder and took to steering him towards the hall Mel

pointed out. “You seem to be having a lively conversation…”

Viktor’s sneer picked up in full force, “His assistant suggested gel, gel as a coolant Jayce. I had to tell him how catastrophic that idea would be.” He paused before continuing, “Where are we heading anyway?”

The hallway they ducked into was infinitely quieter. Viktor’s cane tapped quietly against the marbled floors. “Mel…uh asked me to…” the word he didn’t want to say was ‘contain’, “help you relax a bit.”

“Oh did she?” The annoyance was clear in his voice, “well maybe I would be in a better mood if she had one chair set out in that big fancy room of hers…”

Viktor never liked to let on how much pain he was actually in, he was kind of like a cat in that way. But he did have a point, it was pretty inconsiderate to have no chairs in the main room. “Let’s find a place to sit.”

Jayce broke off and started testing door handles, the first two weren’t much of anything but the third. It was a quiet changing room with a daybed, privacy screen, and vanity complete with bench.

“Viktor, in here.” He waved over the other man. The room was dark but the light of the moon cut through the shadows well enough.

Viktor made a beeline for the bench and practically groaned with pleasure as he sat down. “Close that door, will you? I can feel the politics still creeping in.”

Jayce closed the door, and the far sounds of the party disappeared completely. They were alone.

Viktor didn’t seem to mind as he loosened his tie and began to rub at the back of his neck. “How can you stand to do this all the time?”

“Do what, make small talk? Be polite?”

Viktor shot him a look. He was absolutely miserable. He walked over to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If it’s any consolation I think I talked Mel into never making these parties an obligation for you going forward.”

“Mmm” Viktor gave a hum of approval as he leaned into Jayce’s touch. Jayce continued to rub a small circle with his thumb as Viktor slowly started to close his eyes.

Jayce could feel the tight cords of muscle and knobby collar bone. Viktor had always been thin, between the hugs and helping hands he was familiar with the odd and ends of Viktor’s body. More than once Jayce wondered if he could do more for him. But the problem was Viktor wasn’t very forthcoming, and he couldn’t do any work if he didn’t know what he was working with. He wondered if he could convince Viktor to let him help.

“Jayce?” Jayce snapped out of his revery. Viktor was looking at him through half lidded eyes.“Please move your hand.”

“Oh!”

Like a hot iron, he let go of Viktor’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

“No I-“ Viktor’s mouth twisted “I miss-said it.” He paused for a moment.

He once told Jayce sometimes his mind could bounce between his two languages in rapid fire but it could get stuck on certain words sometimes. Since then Jayce always tried to always give Viktor the time he needed, and would set the example in board meetings not letting people talk over Viktor. The amount of people who thought a pause was an opportunity to talk over him was appalling.

“I would like it if your hand had kept moving. As in, it felt nice, but sticking in one spot, was not nice.”he explained.

“O-oh? Well if your neck is still stiff, I could actually give you a massage.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “A massage?” A smirk gently appeared on his lips. His expression playful. “I bet you say this to all the girls…”

Jayce rolled his eyes, “ ‘All the girls’ I don’t know where these rumors come from, when all my time is spent with you.”

Viktor gave a half shrug and began to turn around on the bench, “Rumors spread from fear, jealousy... things they don’t understand.” Now fully turned around, Viktor looked back at him from the dusty mirror in front of him. “Men are afraid to lose their girlfriends to you so they say that you are…a hussy.”

Jayce felt laughter burst from his lips. He gently started to remove Viktor’s jacket acknowledging that Viktor wanted the massage without asking for one. “A hussy huh?”

“Em…that’s not right either. Champagne makes my head too fuzzy...” His expression shifted, thinking. “ A Playboy? Easy? Man whore?” Viktor said, pulling at his tie.

“I think I get it, V.” He took the tie from Viktor and put it aside. He gently reached under Viktor’s collar and placed his thumbs on the back of his neck. He pushed upwards into Viktor’s hairline, it was a little tacky from the sweat and whatever product Viktor had used. It smelled wonderful though. Like smokey wood and tobacco. He could bathe himself in the scent. He dug his thumbs a little harder earning a small grunt from Viktor.

“The point is, I know you’re not this way. Rumors are started by smaller people…people not worth your time.” Viktor said, his eyes fluttering closed, as Jayce continued.

“That’s…some good advice.”

“A lesson I learn everyday.” Viktor said softly. Jayce paused. He tried not to engage in gossip; it made him...heated. One particular piece nearly made him deck another man after he insinuated that Viktor was some sort of lackey or henchman to Jayce. Caitlyn was the only thing that stopped the textile vice president from having a broken jaw.

“Little hard Jayce.” he relaxed his hands. Not realizing he had intensified his grip.

“Sorry...” Jayce doubled his efforts to concentrate on the matters at hand. He spread his hands a little further working out from his spine. The cords were so tight and tense. Dipping the collar down he saw that there was another mole hidden on his upper back. He ran his thumb over it. How many moles did Viktor have?

Working with the man had shown him arms and neck, and once a foot. But surely he must have more peppering his chest, his back. In his mind's eye he could see Victor’s lithe chest with spots, decorating him like constellations. Viktor was skinny, he could probably see his ribs and collar bone everytime he breathed. Moving like a piston underneath his skin. Flush from...

Nope.

He shied away once again from the thought.

He’s your partner. Stop this. Jayve tried to calm himself down. He was lucky he didn’t blush as easily as some people, but his pants were telling a different story.

Jayce let out a sigh, that seemed to be coming more frequently nowadays.

“Something on your mind?” Viktor was looking at him with concern.

“That uh...same old thing...” The problem with working closely with someone you frequently daydreamed about was that they tended to pick up that something was on your mind.

“Jayce this problem of yours-” Without warning Viktor turned to face him. Unfortunately with their height difference he was face to face with the problem of course. His eyes flicked from Jayce’s pants to his face. No judgment, only curiosity. He opened his mouth only to let it hang. Jayce backed up instinctively, trying to put some space between them.

“Jayce...if you were thinking of Counselor Medarda I won't be offended.” He smiled kindly, “I’m a man these things-”

“No.” The word escaped before he could stop himself.

In the moonlight, the shift in expression was stark, good humor changing into curiosity, interest, intensity. A look he had seen on Viktor’s face a thousand times when he was in the lab. He had a distinct feeling this must be how their hextech feels.

“What do you mean...’No’?” The room was quiet enough that his voice carried quite easily despite being softly spoken. His golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“I-” Jayce looked away, this was not how he wanted this to go, “I was thinking about you.”

The silence was thick, motes of dust floated through moonlight, the daybed had a scattering of pillows and a blanket draped artfully across the back. He chanced a glance at the other man.

His eyes were downcast, his lips were moving with no sound. He was thinking.

“Listen V, you don’t have to-”

Viktor held up a hand, still not looking at him.

Patience. Jayce repeated to himself, have patience.

With a snap Viktor announced he was finished. He sat hands on his knees, with a slight hunch, eyes trained on Jayce.

“You desire me.” Blunt to a T. Viktor was direct to the point as always, “This is why you cannot talk about your problem, and why you’ve been so mopey lately.”

He smiled. The same smile he wears when he solves something tough that they’ve been working on forever, the smile that makes Jayce want to squeeze his friend until he hugs back, the smile that stops him just short of planting a kiss on the side of his head.

But even the expression couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. The deception was over, Viktor knew. “You got it V. You figured it out.” He opened up his hands in front of him, he could only surrender.

“Good.” Viktor said decisively, reaching around to grab his cane. “That makes things easier.”

Jayce was in no mood for games, his heart was battered at this point. “What are you talking about?”

Viktor was walking over. “You’re an attractive man Jayce. I would be a fool not to see it.” He stepped into Jayce’s personal space. A reversal from their normal routine. “Does this surprise you?”

Jayce could feel his face heating, his brain tripping over his own thoughts. “You...but-” He had never seen Viktor take an interest in anyone. Viktor put one hand on his chest tracing the lines of his lapels. He caught the hand and removed it. “Viktor you- feel the same?”

“Of course.” He said simply. He seemed extraordinarily calm, his gaze drifted to where Jayce was holding his hand. “What did you say the Counselor wanted us to do? Relax?”

Jayce didn’t know what to do. Here was the man who occupied his thoughts working and at home. Looking at him like he was all he ever wanted. In a dark room, alone. What was he doing?

“Can I...?” he was searching Viktor’s face for any sign of hesitancy, but the other man understood him just like always. Lifting his chin upwards and tilting his head just so to give him access.

With no more hesitancy Jayce leaned in, pressing their lips together. They were warm and dry, and fit his lips perfectly. He moved in closer, feeling his chest press against the other man. He let go of the hand he was holding, opting to cup the back of Viktor’s head. Finally able to twine his fingers through those brunette strands.

Viktor opened his mouth letting out the most heart stopping sigh. He could feel Viktor’s body relax against him. He pressed his nose into Viktor’s cheek, breathing deep. Wanting to fill himself with this scent. Etch this moment into his memory.

“I’ve thought about this for a while.” Jayce murmured into Viktor’s jaw. Nipping and kissing his way back to Viktor’s mouth. He took a chance at opening his mouth and elated to feel Viktor respond in kind.

He tasted like sour champagne. Warm and soft. His tongue was as clever at kissing as it was with languages. Pushing into his, invading his mouth. Viktor’s hands exploring his backside liberally.

“I want more of you.” Viktor breathed. “Now.”

Jayce could only nod. He gently and unwillingly untangled himself from Victor as he walked over to the daybed and began hurriedly tossing aside the pillows and blanket. He tossed his jacket to the side as he felt Viktor walk up behind him.

In a hundred daydreams he imagined Viktor sidling up beside him. Arm wrapping around his waist, planting a kiss on his cheek. But he never imagined this.

Viktor ran his hand from shoulder to shoulder, then across his pecks around the front. Predatory. Hungry.

“You’re beautiful, солнце.” Jayce had been complimented before but hearing it from Viktor sent a thrill straight to his groin.

“Sol-nitz?” Jayce tried to repeat the foreign word.

“Solntse,” he said slower as Jayce watched his mouth curve around the syllables, “It means Little Sun.”

Jayce’s heart clenched, Viktor had never called him anything like that before. He had to kiss this man now.

He recaptured Viktors lips, holding him felt wonderful. “How do you-” he swallowed thickly, as if he wasn’t getting enough air, “How do you want me?”

The room doesn’t go quiet when he walks through the door. This isn’t some sort of pantomime after all, but something definitely shifts. Eyes wander. Sentences trailing off. Whispers increasing.

Jayce Talis has entered the room.

Not Talis, Giopara. After his partner passed he found patronage with another house. A glorified arms dealer no less. So much for using his beloved Viktor as a beacon for change. The man had been on the cusp of actually doing something. Leading those Pilties towards some sort change, but instead chose to dig his heels in deeper and become the thing Beau had feared. Another cog in the oppressive machine.

It had been years since their last conversation. He had hoped he made some sort of impression on him. But it seems it wasn’t meant to be.

He watched Giopara walk the room. He was dressed well, with a pretty woman on his arm, if she was important Beau couldn’t place her.

He seemed to be doing the rounds of saying hello to all the very important people during the play's intermission. Clasping hands, making small talk. He looked tired, smile not meeting his eyes. Like a puppet.

It was interesting seeing him like this. He of course watched the press conferences, saw the banners, they were hard to avoid, but none of those versions were him. The scared boy stuttering to ask for a blow job, the sobbing mess realizing his love was crumbling before his eyes. That was the realest Beau had seen him. Even in his Counselor days, he had a bravado that was paper thin. It was almost charming. A puppy told to uphold law and order.

Giopara caught his eye. Beau looked away.

There was always a chance his clients were afraid to be seen with him in public, hell a handful were avoiding him right now. Better to just leave him be.

He pretended to look at the playbill, and wished he had brought someone along to distract him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Giopara walking towards him. He forced himself to relax his neck and look away. He didn’t want to talk to his man.

But what he wanted wasn’t in the cards.

“Beau.” Giopara said. Not happy not sad, just…said.

Beau made a bit of a show, turning to face him, and dredged up a smile he thought would be pleasant enough, “Mr… is it Giopara now? How nice to see you again.”

The smile that greeted him might have been made of pasteboard for how fake it was, “That’s correct, glad to hear you’ve been keeping up.”

For a moment he opened his mouth to speak, then faltered. Like a bit of clock work slipping a gear. The mask sipped just the tiniest bit. It seemed to take even himself by surprise. But after a moment he recovered and knocked his knuckles against the cocktail table he was leaning against.

”You know…it would be really good to catch up…” He said, dropping his voice just a bit. Not in a seductive way, or acting as a proposition, but as someone who was trying to choose their words very carefully. There was almost a desperate edge to them.

Gods he wanted a cigarette. “Catch up, how?” Unlike Giopara he had no time for subtlety and if he wanted a quick fuck he could find someone else.

”Oh. Oh. No! No, I mean a drink that’s all, I don’t… I mean…” He was blushing, embarrassed. For a second Beau could believe no time had passed. “I just wanted a drink. That was all.”

Interesting.

Mr. Giopara, Man of Progress, propositioning his former prostitute for a drink, and downright vehement that he wanted nothing more. Very interesting.

Beau wasn’t in the business of selling secrets. For some in his trade it was a very lucrative if not tricky way to do business. Clients more often than not thought of their bought companions as less than human, saying things they might never admit to in polite company. But reputations spread fast and if you were caught it was a very, very long fall to the bottom.

But as much as he was not a fan of Jayce Giopara, information had power, and it was always better to be more informed.

“How about this, if you can find me after the show tonight, we can have a drink, does that sound good Stranger?”

The name had an immediate effect, his mouth strained, a painful memory.

“Ah,” his head whipped around, looking no doubt for his companion. “Yeah…yeah. I can do that Beau.” He took a step back. Beau looked around him to see the woman in question searching the room.

“I’ll see you after the show.” Giopara said definitively before turning back the way he came.

The audacity was astounding. Beau would be the one deciding if they were getting a drink, and it certainly was not a sure thing.

He looked down at his creased playbill. How much was the annoyance worth? How much did he care?

Jayce had always been a curious client. He never tried to obscure himself, using his full name at check in. Then full on asking him to take on the persona of his partner, the brilliant former Deans assistant from Zaun.

For the most part it was an easy job. He of course did his research, subtle make up changes, different silent techniques to communicate, all done to keep an increasingly wealthy client happy.

Then he overstepped his boundaries and lost him.

While his pocketbook mourned the steady income it was easily supplemented by new clients, and Jayce Talis was reduced to an afterthought. An easy job ruined by meddling.

Seeing him again. He wasn’t sure why he said yes, but it must have been cathartic. He seemed unburdened after their session. A small reassurance that his job was occasionally more impactful than a scheduled fuck.

Then the attack happened. His Piltover clients dried up over night, Zaunites trying to make a name for themselves in Piltover, fleeing like rats back to the Undercity, as waves and waves of violence crashed between the towns. He still saw Jayce plenty in those months, the poster child for the innovation of violence.

As power eventually changed hands for both cities they had entered their second tentative time of calm. He followed politics as closely as he needed for work, but truly he just missed the people. This play had been his first attempt to re-integrate back into Piltover’s creative sect, and it was just his luck Jayce Talis…Jayce Giopara had come tonight as well.

To go or not. To meet him, or leave. Jayce Talis still remained an afterthought, but at least he was an interesting one. Perhaps he would indulge his curiosity one more time, after all they wouldn't be client and worker tonight. Beau could leave at any time, nor would he have to hold his tongue.

The lights overhead began to flash, and for a moment Beau looked for him. One tall beautiful face in a sea of others was impossible to find, but still he looked. He would see Mr. Giopara for drinks tonight.

——-

After the show he hung back and stood by the cocktail table where he had first been spotted.

He felt a little foolish watching the waves of people pass him. He could be going home, but then again the checkpoint lines would probably be obnoxious at this hour. He would be better off waiting till most went home.

He would give Giopara an hour, then head back, that would be enough time to settle his curiosity.

But he wasn’t waiting long as he saw the crowd literally parting for the tall figure making a bee line for him.

—-

The place ended up being about a block and a half away. They walked there after Giopara told his driver they were changing locations.

The conversation, one you could call it that, didn’t pick up again until they had drinks in hand. Beau started with some obvious niceties. Which Giopara used as a launching point to talk about himself. He droned on about work, and dignitaries he had met, and blah blah blah. It was entirely one sided and Beau could feel his ‘good host’ persona slipping, why should he be encouraging this behavior? Giopara wasn’t paying him, he did at least cover the drink, but still they should have been equals in this conversation.

“I have been following your career, you know,” He interrupted, “but I was curious, why step down from the counsel?”

At this Giopara’s demeanor changed completely. The over exaggerated confidence drying up on the spot.

“Um, personal reasons…” he deflected.

“I’m sure they were. But it shouldn’t surprise you to know I was fairly disappointed, considering our last conversation.”

It was a bitter cold thing to say, but he was tired of being nice. “And weapons no less! I’m sure that keeps you very busy!” He punctuated the thought with a swig of his cocktail.

If Giopara had a tail it would have been between his legs. For being a genius he was damn stupid for thinking the night would go any other way. He didn’t need Giopara as a client. He could burn this bridge and savor the warmth for all of Zaun.

“Um,” Giopara looked up, then seemingly caught the attention of one of the waiters, “Can I have the bottle?” He pointed to his glass of whiskey, “The ‘23.”

Giopara drained what was left in his glass in a rather unhealthy display of coping. Avoiding his eyes, until the bottle of alcohol appeared at their table and he was able to pour himself a new glass.

“I left, because it was a better deal. I shouldn’t have been leading shit, clearly I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“But you wanted to do good! He would have wanted-“

“You don’t understand! He was exactly why I couldn’t stay!” He said just loud enough for the conversations to go quiet around them. They both stayed quiet until the crowd resumed their previous levels of noise. Giopara drank heavily in the silence.

“I don’t understand.” Beau said plainly.

Giopara rubbed his face, “It’s complicated…”

“I’m sure it is…” he said archly. If this was all Giopara was good for he would finish his drink and leave, even top shelf liquor wasn’t worth dealing with this sorry man.

They both sat sipping their drinks until

“I did do it, you know…” Giopara said suddenly, quietly. There was only one thing that hung between them of what ‘it’ could be. Beau let him continue.

“I said it, as he was lying in the hospital after the attack. I lied to the doctors, I said I was fine but I was probably concussed, but I needed to see him. Just, I mean, he was everything to me…”

The words were tragic, but it would take more than that to dredge up sympathy from him.

“And the worst part, he heard me.” He let out something that was between a sigh of laughter and a sob. A smile that was holding back tears. “He looked at me…” he took a hard swallow, “like I was crazy. Like I was a bother. He shook his head and turned away.”

Giopara…Jayce, blinked and tilted his head in the way one does to rein in tears. He took a long drink, and only resurfaced when he had drained the glass. Looking decidedly harder and colder than when he started.

Beau distinctly had the feeling that this was the real reason he had asked for a drink. Some last ditch effort to redeem himself with someone who knew very intimate secrets about him. But as much as he wanted to dismiss him, say his grief was deserved for his choices…it simply wasn’t true. The man was haunted by his past. Perhaps his foray into weapons wasn’t done in malice but to distance himself from his old partner in every possible way.

“That was always a possibility, you were very aware of that.” Beau said as gently as he could. “It was his choice how to respond. But at least he knew. He knew that you loved him.”

Jayce’s head shook, as he poured himself another glass. Probably thinking he should have kept it to himself. Regrets and humiliation rolled into one.

Beau wondered how many other people knew this. How many times Jayce had broken down and said the words aloud. Beau’s eyes drifted around the bar. People glanced but didn’t linger, they might leave tonight with a story about seeing their famed Defender, but not much else. He looked to Jayce. They say time heals all wounds but that platitude rings hollow in the face of true grief. This could have happened a month ago, not several years, for the abject distress written across his face.

Jayce knocked back the portion he had just poured. “He shouldn’t have done that… shouldn’t have…” he mumbled

Turned away? Died? Beau wasn’t sure but the comment wasn’t directed towards him anyway. He leaned in a bit more towards Jayce and stared daggers at anyone who looked a bit too curious. He would let Jayce have his moment, the lanes would still be waiting for him after.

Eventually Jayce came back to himself, wiping his eyes, mumbling apologies. It was… fine. He was at least trying to make their evening somewhat normal.

Finally he asked, ‘How have you been?’ Stupidly late into the conversation. As if he finally came to his senses about how to be a decent conversationalist.

Surviving. He wanted to say. But piling on had never been his way, he told Jayce off, and said his business.

“I’m doing alright, Zaun has been…tumultuous to say the least, but me and mine are safe enough. Thank you for asking.”

Jayce finally seemed to be coming back to the man Beau had known. Nodding along at the response. “That- that’s good. I’m glad. When the…” he let his hand flap about to signify the wanton death and destruction that plagued their cities, “broke out, I did think of you. I hoped you were doing well.”

Not enough to check, Beau bit back the response on the tip of his tongue. And calmed himself, they both had a lot on their minds during that time. He was a prostitute and Jayce had no obligations to him. The fact he crossed his mind at all was a small miracle.

-

“Jayce, I think this is where we part ways.”

—-

(AN: something something jayce tells beau that the checkpoint lines are already closed so he invites beau to spend the night with him)

“Viktor is the Machine Herald now.”

Beau heard the words, but…

No. Viktor was dead. Jayce Talis’ partner, aged 32 years, dead of complications after the attack on the counsel. It made the news. The death that sent, one Jayce Talis, into a tailspin. Throwing himself and his talents into war mongering and weapons. Viktor was dead… he wasn’t…

The Machine Herald.

He wasn’t even aware Pilties knew who that was. Hells he was still a myth in Zaun. A back alley surgeon who, would fix your ails, and more…. A butcher, scientist, and madman rolled into one. How could Viktor, Jayce’s sweet, meek, dying, Viktor be…that.

“Jayce-“ but that’s as far as he got as Jayce’s driver pulled up in front of him. Jayce waited as the driver got out and opened the door for the two of them.

Jayce put out a hand, inviting Beau into the auto first. He was half tempted to refuse, to stay away from someone who could say something so absurd with such a grave face.

But. But he had nowhere to stay, a hotel would be a pain at this point, and he had at least liked Jayce once, and now… well, if what he said was true, or believed it to be true, no wonder he was so…

He got into the car. Jayce followed behind him, but as soon as he was settled, raised one finger to his lips.

So he at least knew it was absurd enough to not speak of it in front of the help. But still, this sort of thing…

Surely Jayce had others he could confide in. He must. He looked over, as the auto began to move, watching the light of street lamps fly across his face. He wasn’t reclusive, but he was no great actor, anyone who spent a decent amount of time with him knew it was a thin veneer whenever he was in public. But he had the Kiramman’s support, family surely…

But even still. He couldn’t deny the relationship he had with Jayce was intimate on several levels. Not just the sex, but emotionally. Jayce was not the first man or woman to cry on his shoulder, but he was certainly the only one to keep up a singular role for years with no wavering. That sort of intimacy you couldn’t share with friends or family. Perhaps Beau was the only one he could turn to.

Gods what a depressing thought. One of the most important people in Piltover but he had no one to turn to. No one but the escort he fucked in place of his business partner and best friend.

He had just wanted to see a play this evening, not roped into whatever lunacy Jayce was spouting.

After a short drive they pulled up to a nondescript building, on the respectable side of town. A door man let them in, greeting Mister Giopara by name, before they got into a private lift that took them to the penthouse.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Beau couldn’t hold back, “What do you mean Viktor is the Machine Herald, hm? How do you know who that is?”

Jayce placidly looked over his shoulder as he hung up his coat. “So you believe me?”

“No!” Beau could scarcely contain himself, “Your Viktor died!”

“No.” Jayce said, heavy with finality, “He didn’t.” There was no more mistaking it. Jayce was telling the truth.

“Let’s have a seat.” He gestured to a doorway that looked to be a sitting room. Without much of a choice Beau walked in. It was a fine enough room, decorated for all the necessities a Piltover man of the town would need. Beau had seen them by the dozen. He sat down on the leather couch to find it hard and not broken in at all. Always for show these rooms.

Jayce followed behind him but beelined to the fireplace. Opening the flu and setting logs to be burned.

“No staff?” Beau said a little more flippantly than he actually meant to.

Jayce gave him just a glance, “No. Not here.”

Soon the room was brightened with firelight. Beau watched as Jayce hauled himself up, staring into the fire as he began to undo this tie. He collapsed into an adjacent chair and all but slumped against the back. His preciously crafted facade crumbling away.

“After the attack, many Zaunites living in Piltover were scrutinized. Anyone who had even visited the city was considered a potential connection to the terrorist Jinx. So Viktor, despite his injuries, needed to be questioned too. It was there at the hospital the high council realized Viktor had been experimenting with shimmer and his own body, in an effort to… keep himself alive.

“Viktor escaped custody on the way from the hospital to his hearing. As extensive as his injuries were, no one thought he would last long, and they presumed him dead.”

Oh janna.

“But he wasn’t. He survived. He-“ Jayce dropped his head, as if the weight of this secret had finally caught up with him. His voice slipping out of his calm practiced voice and into something raw.

“He found me. Later. He was waiting for me here, he wanted me to join him. He was a mess, incoherent, paranoid, already he-“ his eyes went distant as if reliving the memory and all the agonies that came with it, “He told me if I didn’t go with him, I never truly loved him.”

He let out one shuddery sigh, staring out at nothing. The crackle and pop of the fireplace filled the silence. But as the sole listener to the tale, Beau needed to know how it ended.

“What did you do?”

“I ah…called the Enforcers.”

“Jayce.” And even he could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“I know! I know okay?! I didn’t know what else to do! He was threatening me! He-“

“He came to you, and you told him he deserved to be locked up or killed.” As a Zaunite it hurt particularly deep. Pilties would call their attack dogs for any reason, and the consequences were often deadly. Jayce should know better than this, know better than to do something so reckless.

“He wasn’t the same,” Jayce said weakly before burying his head in his hands, “he was wrong, it wasn’t him…it wasn’t…he shouldn’t have…” he let his hands slide down his face, “It wasn’t him. He was terrifying.”

The fear in his voice. Jayce was not a good enough actor for it not to be true. He was afraid of Viktor. Afraid of the Machine Herald.

A chill rolled down his spine, as every tale of the Herald now suddenly held more truth. A brilliant mind gone to rot with shimmer and desperation. It was unfortunately horrifyingly possible. And if it scared the town's golden boy, a man with power and stature, a man who loved the person he had been… what chance did the rest of them have?

So Jayce had seen Viktor at his worst and decided he needed to protect his city from the

threat he knew all too well. Be the Defender against Viktor’s aggressor.

He was pathetic. A Piltie. Obnoxious. Hurt. An ass. Pain on top of pain. Wayward. Cocky. Idiot.

“Gods you are… a mess.” Beau mumbled.

The effect was instant. His face stiffening as if he had been slapped.

He blinked, then stared him down. “What- what did you say?”

“You’re such a mess. No wonder you’re so…” he trailed off, there was no good word for it so instead he opted to gesturing to all of him. Jayce had problems, complicated ones, with no good answers and it had made him a mess.

A sound escaped his host. At first it could have been a raspy sob, but it quickly metamorphosed into a barking dry laughter. The kind that could not be stopped until it had run its course.

Not exactly what Beau was expecting, but that had been tonight’s theme it seems.

Eventually Jayce wound down enough to talk, “Do you know how long it’s been since someone spoke to me that way?” Back lit as he was it was hard to make out his expression. He was smiling at least. “You’re more like him than I thought.”

That felt like a gut punch now. The ‘Viktor’ act had been neatly tied up and tucked away after their last night together. No other person wanted the whisper quiet, loving, bed mate. And he certainly hoped he wasn’t like the deranged butcher of the lanes.

“Don’t look like that, he was a good man…is… was.”

The moment stretched out between them. Beau had no doubt Jayce’s head was a tangled mess of regrets and anger and confusion. His own was a mess as well, but at least he could try and find answers.

“Why did you invite me here, stranger?” He didn’t quite mean to say the nickname, but it was how he knew him, knew the most intimate part of him.

“Ah…” his hand went up to his forehead. A telling habit that he was caught off guard.

“I guess… I just saw you. Someone who knew me before. Someone who didn’t want something from me, someone who wouldn’t give me a fucking migraine, from talking about the most inane stupid-“ he caught himself, “Someone who actually knew me. I know we don’t have a relationship-“ he grimaced at the word, “but I used to see you as a safe haven. Someone who-“

he paused. Again, looking like a poorly strung puppet. Mouth agape, a poor actor who had just had a shocking revelation.

“I’m doing it again. I’m not seeing you.” He looked up, the whites of his eyes aglow and wide, looking at him as if those words meant something.

“I don’t-

He stood abruptly, and Beau found himself on his feet as well. He wasn’t going to let him leave without more information, “No! Look at me!”

His face in shadow looked more marble than man. Deep blacks of darkness obscuring his features. The warm glow behind him. Distant.

“Why did you invite me here?”

Beau saw his hands twitch and tighten once, twice, working up the courage, to hopefully, be honest.

“I think…because I wanted someone to know. Because I was hoping…someone who knew all of it, might understand.”

“That’s a lot to ask of one man.” Beau said quietly.

“Yeah.”

The two sat quietly. The air, thick with tension. Jayce’s situation was…unthinkable, unbelievable, and yet completely true. A man who had to watch the love of his life die, again and again and again, like some tragic wondertale come to life.

“I don’t know all of it Jayce, but I do sympathize.” He had been very careful this whole night to not touch the other man. He didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, but underneath it all, he craved others. People, touch, sexuality, he took pleasure in watching people undo themselves because of him. With nothing more than his body, others went to their knees, gained their courage, expelled their demons. There were many reasons to work in the sex trade, but this one he always kept close to his chest.

So when he got up off the couch, and touched Jayce’s arm, it was a deliberate thing. To once again use his body to affect someone else.

It was immediate, Jayce’s stone facade twitched, stared at him with horrified awe.

“I know you’re doing your best.”

He could never, would never, fully forgive him, but he could try and understand him.

The words seemed to break something in him. Jayce’s face crumpling like a toddlers. A sadness that came on so swiftly, it’s source coming from so many different directions, it was a bludgeoning wave of emotion. He took one pitiful heaping breath before pulling Beau into a crushing embrace. Sobbing into the crook of his neck. Just like that night so many years ago.

Beau let him. Again Jayce needed something only he could give him.

It was disgustingly satisfying. He alone could give Jayce Talis…Jayce Giopara closure. He had learned enough to satisfy his curiosity and was worse off for it.

He let the other man cry himself hoarse, comforting him just enough to know he was still there.

I don’t think I’m going to sleep tonight

Me neither

Want to waste some time

When was the last time you had sex?

“Um, probably a few months ago.” He mumbled, and just like that, his boyish hesitancy showed through.

“Doesn’t sound like you had any fun.” He wasn’t trying to charm him, but he couldn’t help but try and alleviate the tension.

“No. It was…” he trailed off. “But why do you care? I didn’t- that not why I asked you to come over.”

—

“Want to be alone together?”

“What?” Jayce croaked.

In their years together Beau had realized how physical Jayce was, he cuddled, reciprocated, he might have caused him a strained muscle or two but it was painfully obvious how in love he was. And that love was physical, hell even in grief he clung to him. Physicality was his comfort. And while it may not be the healthiest thing, Beau also wanted a bit of comfort. A strong body pressed against his was not the worst way to spend the night.

“Not as a service, just two people, who don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Would I- I mean I don’t think I could-“

“I’m not asking for anything.” Beau interrupted. Truthfully whatever transpired between them would need to happen because both of them wanted it. “Just a body to be close to. “

Jayce looked as if Beau had handed him something priceless. “Are you-are you sure?”

-

“Truthfully you never asked what my specialty’s were.”

“Oh. What are you good at?”

He let out a humorless laugh, “Domestic things, it’s touted as ‘The boyfriend experience’ I pick you up, wine you, dine you, effortlessly pick the wine and keep conversation flowing. Then fuck you like I love you.”

“Oh.” Jayce said quietly.

“You smell different.” Jayce said bluntly.

Beau couldn’t help but laugh, “Of course. I'm wearing my own cologne tonight. As I am very good at my job, I would tailor my cologne to my clients tastes. Smell is one of the most powerful yet underrated tools to elicit responses from people.”

“What did you use… for me I mean.”

Beau tried to recall, “You responded well to musks, wood, florals, smoke.” There were more subtle notes as well, but nothing too exciting, he figured his Zaunite love was more the practical type.

“Soap. Viktor smelled like plain soap.”

“Mm.” He should have guessed. Practical to the point of unfashionable.