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The spotlight is blinding Jayce. It seems to be brighter than usual, or maybe it’s a result of his lack of sleep and the migraine that follows. He looks around at the rest of the Council, and as always he feels— inadequate. Like a ten-year-old dressed like a grown-up, pretending to be one of them. He fakes it. He always does, and he must have done pretty well, seeing as they voted him in, but he’s just waiting for the day they figure out what a mistake it was.
They’re staring at him, waiting for him to explain his take on the matter, but before he opens his mouth, he turns his head to take a look at one of the reasons behind his success.
Viktor.
One look in Viktor’s eyes, one reassuring nod, and he feels like he can do everything. He knows this man has his back, if anyone was to go against Jayce, he would stand up for him, defend him. He always did, even when Jayce asked him not to.
It means the world to him. Viktor means the world to him, and he still doesn’t understand how he ever lived one day without this man at his side.
Jayce takes a deep, calming breath, thinking about how, when this meeting is over, he’ll be back in Viktor’s arms, behind closed doors, shielding him from the world — and he smiles, because Viktor deserves to know how appreciated he is. He smiles, and then—
There’s a distant rumble, not from anywhere in particular. From everywhere. Jayce has the feeling he should know what’s coming, he should know it but it’s just out of reach. The only thing he knows is that it’s something bad. Then a shadow approaches from behind the chair Viktor is sitting on, and he remembers.
“No,” he says, or at least he desperately tries to, but no sound comes across his lips. He can’t move, either, forced to stand by and watch the shadow take over Viktor; first, the back of the chair is swallowed by darkness, then it creeps into his hair. Viktor looks unaffected, at least that, unaware of what’s happening. Jayce is locked in place when Viktor’s face is consumed, then his thighs, his arms, and the last thing Jayce sees is the metallic tip of the brace covering his foot, the small reflection of the bright lights disappearing.
And after that, it comes for Jayce.
He jolts upright in his bed, heart thumping against his ribs as he greedily sucks in the air that was pushed from his lungs with the scream still resonating in the dark room. The shadow, he thinks, and it’s such a childish fear, he knows, but still, he fumbles desperately in the darkness for the switch to his bedside lamp, eventually finding it and lighting up the room. Forcing himself to keep his eyes open against the blinding light is hard, but he needs to have a look around and see that it’s just his bedroom, that everything is okay.
Except it isn’t. Nothing is.
Sometimes it’s like this, the pleasant dreams morphing into a nightmare, and he’ll wake up screaming, sweating, sometimes even crying.
Other times, however — and those are even worse — he wakes up during the pleasant part of the dream, smiling, happy, and all warm inside until he sees the darkness around him and realises that it wasn’t real. Then he has to deal with the overwhelming grief of his life, his conscience washing over him like a wave of pain, replacing the good memories with the reality he has to live in.
His dreams are the only place where he can be with Viktor in the way he used to.
Even though it’s been that way for a year now, sometimes, his brain still forgets as if it’s stuck, trapping itself. Especially after a dream. Sometimes, he lies in bliss for minutes, reveling in the memories until he remembers that they’re nothing but that — memories, moments he’ll never get back.
In those situations, he hates how part of his brain is apparently so obsessed with Viktor, when Jayce himself is trying his best just to forget. It shouldn’t be that hard, he’s a grown man, he’s supposed to have some kind of control over himself and not linger on something that will never be. He knows he’ll never forget what they had, not fully, but there are more pressing matters than the loss of his partner. There’s a war going on, and he’s supposed to be the one ending it.
Jayce doesn’t go back to sleep. He tries, at first, but as soon as he’s drifting off, a terrible feeling threatens to consume him, and he jolts back to reality immediately. He knows that if he falls asleep, the dream will either repeat itself, or another one would take right over, one just as painful. Instead, he stumbles out of bed, pulls on the pants he abandoned on the floor last night, and makes his way to the kitchen.
He should really do something about this place, he thinks when he almost stumbles over another box that he never unpacked. Ever since he moved into this apartment — back into it, that is, after Viktor left and he stopped spending most of his days at the Academy — he’s thought about unpacking, but he keeps postponing it. He wants to, he wants for this to feel like a home again, but he’s afraid it never will. That if he actually tried, if he got all of his stuff out of those boxes, made an effort, maybe bought some candles and curtains, and fully settled in again, it would still feel like this empty shell, and the thought scares him. Deep down, he never thought he would stay here for long, but here he is, and it doesn’t seem to change anytime soon.
He turns on the coffee maker, the only new thing he actually bought since he moved back in because the Academy had great coffee and he couldn’t go back to his own lousy coffee after that. It’s 3 AM, the clock on the wall tells him, but he doesn’t care, and he chugs down his coffee in no time — he’s not going back to sleep.
The coffee doesn’t make him feel less groggy, not even after the second cup; instead, he feels intensely jittery and more anxious than before. It’s a dangerous combination, that of a tired mind and a body trembling with energy because while he wants to rest, he physically can’t.
One of the benefits of this apartment is that it’s close to the factory grounds of the Talis Forge, and he ends up there after a pleasant jog in the night air.
It’s not the first time Jayce ends up in the forge at night. He likes the feel of it — the huge building, usually alive with people and noise, now abandoned and quiet. Dark. It should be scary, when he thinks about it, because it looks like something from a horror movie where anything can happen, but to him, it feels like home. More than his own home does, especially now.
He always liked coming here, and after becoming part of the Council, his visits became more frequent. The countless meetings and decisions waiting to be made suck all of his energy, and apparently, this place is one of the only things left that help him relax. Using his muscles, tiring himself until he couldn’t form another coherent thought, and finally walking home to pass out on his bed, exhausted.
Despite his restlessness, Jayce’s brain still feels awful, so he decides that working with heavy stuff or heat wouldn’t be safe. He finds himself strolling around the factory, moving some stuff around, inspecting the tools; small, unimportant tasks to keep himself occupied enough to stay awake and not think too much.
He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he flinches when he hears a sudden sound until he realises that he might have made it himself, because every sound of metal in this huge building is amplified by the silence, and—
No, there it is again, and it’s definitely footsteps. Heavy ones. He’s supposed to be alone, so the sound of footsteps is unexpected.
Jayce swallows and wishes he had locked the door.
“Hello?” he shouts, echoing in the room, startling at the echoing sound of his own voice. No reply, but the footsteps stop.
The heavy door creaks when he pushes it open, and he winces, realising that whoever is in there definitely isn’t going to be surprised by his arrival.
At first, he doesn’t see anyone. The room is left in darkness, everything the same dull, grey complexion, except for the ray of moonlight shining through the round window near the ceiling. Then, he sees him.
Illuminated from behind by the white light, nothing but a black silhouette, but there’s no doubt. The size, the form, the light reflecting around the edges in a way it only does with one thing — metal.
“Viktor?” Jayce asks, surprised.
Viktor, his mind screams.
“Defender.” His modulated voice resounds in the room. “What are you doing here?”
He sounds disturbingly calm given the situation.
“You’re asking me?” Jayce says, carefully looking around himself without being too obvious. He isn’t going to be fooled by Viktor’s small talk, and he needs something to defend himself. “You’re the one breaking into my factory in the middle of the night.”
“You’re the one who left the door unlocked. Why are you even in your factory in the middle of the night? Bad dream?”
The sound of his voice is mocking like he was talking to a small child. A ball of anger curls inside Jayce. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a metal pipe, it’s not much, it’s not exactly his hammer, but it will have to do.
“None of your business,” he mutters as unaffected as possible, then hardens his voice. “Tell me why you’re here, or get the fuck out.”
In that instant, Jayce lurches for the pipe but comes to a halt when a scorching pain shoots from his right hand. With a pained hiss, he clutches it and looks up, disoriented, only to see the faint glow of the Hexclaw.
“Guess you should have worn your heat resistant gloves,” Viktor says, indifferently.
“What do you want?” Jayce asks in a raised voice, the pain only fueling his anger. He isn’t in the mood for this, and his lack of sleep makes him irritable, vulnerable.
“You have a component that I need,” Viktor finally answers.
“And you figured you’d just waltz in here and take it?”
“Actually,” Viktor says, the Hexclaw retracting to his back, “I did. I figured no one would be here.”
“Well, I’m here,” Jayce says. He stands as tall as possible, which isn’t much, and he hates it — this is the first time he’s met this new version of Viktor without being prepared, which means he isn’t dressed for combat and doesn’t have any kind of weapon, and he feels incredibly tiny compared to the man in front of him.
He tries not to let it shine through as he walks towards Viktor. With every step, more of his armor becomes visible in the dark. The reinforcements, the plates, every reason Jayce should keep his distance, but he doesn’t. He tries to imagine the man behind all of this, like he’s done so many times, the man he used to spend all of his time with — Viktor himself is probably still as slight as he was back then, still exposed despite this threatening facade.
“And what are you going to do?”
He can hear Viktor’s smirk behind his stupid mask, and it fuels the rage inside him further.
When he lunges at him he tries not to think of the man inside, because he never wanted to hurt him, to hurt Viktor, but he’s left with no other choice.
It’s stupid, he knows; what’s he going to do to a fully armored man with his bare hands?
Viktor swats him off like a fly, hitting his jaw with his metallic lower arm, and Jayce is thrown back, landing on the floor. The pain is sharp, rendering him unfocused for a moment, even as he scrambles to stand back up. There’s a ringing in his ears, and with his eyes closed, he can’t help but think about what Viktor is going to do now, how he’s going to take advantage of the situation because he clearly has no problem hurting Jayce.
He’s not sure if it’s that realisation, or the dizziness after getting hit, but suddenly the burning rage inside him is gone. Dead. Extinguished. There’s nothing left, no desire to fight, and while he’s felt that way before, wanting to walk away instead of dragging himself through yet another fight with his former partner, it hits him differently this time.
He’s worn out. Tired to the bone. And he knows, deep down, that he can’t do this.
When he opens his eyes, he finds Viktor in the same spot as before. He didn’t move, didn’t use his advantage, he just— stands. Tall and dark, powerful, and Jayce has never wanted to be held in his arms more than he does now because it hurts. It’s not just his jaw, not his lip or wherever the tinge of copper is coming from. It’s all over. Everywhere on his body, every inch of his mind. Nothing but pain, and he doesn’t care if the arms are made of metal, he needs to feel them, to be enveloped, to be held by Viktor, Viktor—
“Get up.”
Even though Viktor speaks calmly, his voice makes Jayce’s breath catch in his throat. If he doesn’t imagine it, Viktor sounds every bit as exhausted as himself. Jayce pushes himself to his feet, taking a step back when the dizziness hits him all over again, regaining his balance. He’s ready for whatever Viktor has to offer, however he wants to beat him up, he’s ready just to give him what he came here for, watch him walk away and just stop fighting because he just can’t.
To his surprise, Viktor doesn’t approach him.
A soft noise from behind his mask breaks the silence, a muffled sigh, and he makes his way across the room to slump down on a step in front of one of the machines.
He flexes the fingers of his metallic hand a couple of times before he rests it on his thigh. Jayce watches him in silence, waiting for him to talk, but instead, Viktor turns his face away and flips up the mask. Jayce’s heart skips a beat. Ever since Viktor left, he hasn’t seen his face. Not once. Every time they’ve met, Viktor’s face has been hidden behind metal, and Jayce—
He didn’t quite forget what Viktor looked like; after all, he has pictures. Pictures from their time together, from newspapers, from competitions they’d won, hidden in a wooden box in Jayce’s drawer. But even the pictures lost their magic. Like a favorite song played on repeat until it no longer strikes that chord inside you that sends a shiver down your spine. Like ink faded through time. Jayce still looks at them occasionally, he can’t help himself, but it’s not enough.
The thought of seeing Viktor’s real face again — however much of it remains, he thinks with a shiver — he wonders if he’s ready for that.
The mask casts a shadow over the upper half of Viktor’s face, leaving it in darkness, and Jayce thinks that maybe it’s fine, because even though he’s not able to see all of Viktor’s face, it’s so much.
Jayce didn’t expect it to look so familiar, but it does. The sharp line of his jaw, his pale lips, and the mole he used to kiss all the time. He still remembers how it felt under his lips when Viktor’s lips curled into a smile every time he did it, how he turned his head and chased Jayce’s mouth, craving a real kiss because it wasn’t quite enough. One that Jayce happily gave to him.
The shadow fades as Viktor turns his head, slowly, and with every inch of his face visible to Jayce, his throat gets tighter.
Jayce lets out a ragged breath when they lock eyes. It’s Viktor, it really is, and he shouldn’t be so surprised. Of course, he’s known all along that it was Viktor behind that mask, behind the layers of metal, but this is—
His Viktor. The same one who left him months ago. His former partner. Seeing his bare face, it feels like only a couple of days have passed, but at the same time, something has definitely changed. Jayce can’t put a finger on it. Maybe it’s mostly the eyes? There’s a slight change in their color, somehow they seem even brighter, probably caused by the chemicals running through Viktor’s veins. He looks serious, tired even, and Jayce wonders if he doesn’t sleep at night either.
He shakes his head slightly, not allowing himself to go there.
“You look—” Jayce pauses, and Viktor cocks an eyebrow in interest, but otherwise, his face stays expressionless. “Your face didn’t change.”
At this point, he can’t help but feel fortunate that Viktor has been wearing a mask all this time, because he would never have been able to fight him with his face visible, the constant reminder of who he used to be.
Viktor doesn’t speak, not for a long time, eyes only leaving Jayce’s to look down his body, stopping at his feet.
“I’ve been— dreaming,” Viktor says, and without the mask, his voice sounds heavy, not carrying the same monotone expression as his face. Jayce clenches his fists. “Every night, the same dream. And every morning, the same—” A heavy breath, a slight tremble of his hand on his thigh, metal against metal “—nightmare.”
Jayce swallows hard. Viktor didn’t tell him any details, not even the subject of his dreams, and yet, Jayce knows. Because he’s had the same dreams. Over and over again.
“I know.”
It’s a whisper, it’s barely there because Jayce’s throat is too tight for actual words to escape, and honestly, he’s not sure if Viktor hears, because when his eyes travel up Jayce’s body to once again meet his eyes, his expression is once again indecipherable.
That’s why it surprises Jayce when Viktor blinks and a single tear makes its way down his face. Jayce holds his breath as he watches it leave a streak of wetness over the prominent cheekbone, right down past the mole only to disappear below his jaw.
Viktor doesn’t seem to notice.
Jayce is more than overwhelmed by how much he’s longing for Viktor, seeing him like that. All those months of fighting, and still, the second Viktor shows any kind of distress Jayce’s first thought is to comfort him.
It’s a physiological urge, and he can’t stop himself. He isn’t even going to try. As soon as he lifts his right foot off the ground to take a step closer, the Hexclaw comes to life with a whir, hovering above Viktor to protect him.
“Don’t,” Viktor’s monotone voice warns, but Jayce has to. Even with Viktor’s eyes on him, everything about his expression telling Jayce to stay the fuck away. With the knowledge that it would take one flick from Viktor’s hand and a deadly ray would shoot him.
But honestly, he can’t bring himself to care. Nothing can be worse than this life. A life where he’s alone, forced to fight the only person he ever loved. The sharp pain from the Hexclaw would be a soothing balm in comparison to the constant, dull pain and the numbness he’s felt all the time. If he’s lucky, he’ll bleed to death quickly and no longer be caught in this tiresome search for meaning. His life has a purpose, he’s been told; he’s helping people, at least he should be, but no matter how hard he tries there’s always someone telling him that it’s not enough, he doesn’t suffice, he’s a disappointment. It’s been a long time since he’s cared, his motivation has been fading since— probably since he lost Viktor.
With all of that on his mind, he ignores the looming danger and takes the first step.
“Why don’t we just— end this?”
Viktor scoffs, but Jayce didn't expect anything else from him.
“There’s no way to end this.”
Jayce ignores him and takes another step. And another. Viktor isn't looking directly at him, but Jayce can tell he's paying attention to his every move out of the corner of his eyes and from the way the Hexclaw suddenly lights up. He swallows hard, convincing himself to continue. Viktor wouldn't kill him. Not like this.
“There’s always a way—”
He's forced to stop when the Hexclaw grabs his shoulder. It’s not gentle, not at all, in fact he's sure it's going to leave bruises, the metal fingers digging into his flesh. Viktor really doesn't want him to get closer.
“Trust me, there isn’t always a way." He intones slowly as if he's trying to explain something complicated to a child. "Have you forgotten why we ended up like this? Why we parted ways in the first place? We're representing different sides in a war.” Viktor stops. “What do you want us to do, kiss and make up?”
“Why not?” Jayce asks, even though that isn't exactly what was on his mind. He shifts, trying to shrug away under the claw. "Will you please let go of me?"
His plea is ignored as Viktor folds his hands in his lap and looks somewhere at the floor between them.
“You live in a dream world, Talis. You always did.”
The words don't have a mocking tone to them any longer. Instead, they're laced with something Jayce might mistake for sentimentality.
But the most important thing is— Talis. Not Defender, but Talis. For as long as Jayce can remember, Viktor never referred to him as anything else than Defender. If that was a way of distancing himself from Jayce, he wasn't sure. Hearing his last name in Viktor's voice again after so long makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand.
“My dreams were what made us discover Hextech, remember?” Jayce asks.
“Everything was different back then. Easier. Whatever we’re dreaming, it’s not going to solve anything.”
“Not if you stop believing,” Jayce says, adamant about not giving up.
"I've had plenty of reasons to stop believing."
“Do you remember the first time you told me not to give up?” Jayce asks, but then he falters slightly. Of course Viktor doesn’t remember. He worked so hard to remove everything related to Jayce, to get rid of his memories, his emotions, and the moment probably wasn’t meaningful to Viktor anyway. “The night where—”
“The first time we worked on Hextech together,” Viktor cuts him off. “We pulled an all-nighter. You were running on caffeine and your hands were shaking.”
Maybe Jayce is imagining it, but it feels like the grasp of the Hexclaw loosens a bit.
“Shit, yeah, I was a mess. I thought— I thought they were gonna take everything from me.”
“It took me forever to convince you that we’d figure it all out the next day.”
The flashback hits Jayce hard. Viktor’s hands grasping his shoulders, his golden eyes locking with Jayce’s, the reassuring words falling from his lips. The calmness emanating from the other man.
“It’s when I knew—” Jayce gulps. “That you were special. That you weren’t like the others, that you were someone I could feel safe around.” There’s a huff of air through Viktor’s nose, it’s not quite a snort. “No, you don’t understand, Viktor. I had never felt safe around anyone, let alone some stranger that I’d known for not even a day. And never since.”
Viktor is taken aback, but remains silent, lost in thought. But all of a sudden, he seems to snap back to reality.
"This isn't about us, remember?" Jayce's shoulders sag. "This is about the people we're trying to protect, the people counting on us. Whatever is between us — whatever we might be feeling when we reminisce about our past — isn't relevant."
A spark of hope lights up in Jayce's chest at Viktor potentially feeling something.
"What about the dreams?" Jayce asks softly.
"The dreams matter even less." Viktor shifts uncomfortably on the step, shutting his eyes for a second. "I shouldn't have mentioned them, I don't know why I even did. I assume I had a, eh, moment of weakness."
"I've been dreaming of you, too."
Slowly, Viktor's gaze travels up to meet Jayce's. The eye-contact is intense enough to make Jayce's heart pick up speed and the urgent need to get close to Viktor grows further.
"I dream of when we were together. Before any of this happened. Sometimes, it's just my mind recreating memories of some of the stuff we did. Simple things, like the memory of the two of us sitting by the lake, or just spending time in the lab. Tonight, I dreamt that I was standing in front of the Council, and you were there with me. Other times, it's made up situations. And I— I feel so horrible when I wake up."
Viktor still looks at Jayce, but his gaze is wavering now as if he's fighting to maintain eye contact.
"I've been trying to get rid of them." Viktor is biting the inside of his cheek. "The human brain is— tricky. If you finally manage to suppress something during the day, it will haunt you in your sleep. It's driving me insane and I don't know what to do about it."
"I don't want to do this anymore," Jayce confesses in a shaky voice. "I don't want to live without you, Viktor, I don't want to forget you, it's—"
Jayce trails off and grits his teeth because his voice is threatening to crack and he already feels the wetness in his eyes.
Viktor looks every bit as shocked as him when the Hexclaw loosens its grip and lets go of Jayce's shoulder like it's betrayed its owner. Jayce rubs his now sore shoulder, expecting Viktor to do something, but instead he just sits there, looking pained. The Hexclaw dangles in the air awkwardly, no longer glowing, and that's when Jayce takes the chance and approaches Viktor once again.
This time, he isn't stopped like he expected to be, so when he suddenly finds himself next to Viktor, he barely knows what to do. He decides to sit down next to him, close enough for their thighs to be pressed against each other, and it's a lot. They haven't been this close for a long time, and Jayce finds himself holding an uneven breath for a while, trying to stifle all the emotions this closeness awakes in him.
"In my dreams, we're always happy," Viktor starts and clears his voice. "It's like my brain didn't catch up with reality. We're partners, we're friends, we're— everything we used to be. You're holding me close, and I— I barely remember how it feels to be held, it’s been so long, and yet, my mind recreates it so vividly. I don't think— In my dreams, I'm still in my weak, human form, not covered in all of this—" he tilts his head slightly to the side, gesturing to the metal "—and you just hold me, I can feel every inch of our bodies touching, I feel so whole." Viktor's jaw goes tense, almost vibrating with the force he's clenching his muscles. "The worst part is waking up," he adds, his voice lower.
"I know," Jayce says. He takes a deep breath and finally crosses the line, reaching out to put a hand on Viktor’s knee. It’s covered by metal, too, and the touch feels cold and strange, but it’s all Jayce is able to do for now. He doesn’t want to risk scaring Viktor away by going further.
"I've dreamt about killing you a couple of times, and I—" Viktor’s voice cracks, and he bends slightly forward as if he wants to curl in on himself, as if it hurts, "—It didn't feel like it's supposed to. Like I imagined it would. For the longest time, I thought that was what I wanted, it's what I'm supposed to want, but I'm just as weak as everyone else, I'm nothing but a disappointment—"
Eventually, his voice breaks, and he trails off.
"Viktor," Jayce croaks out through the burning lump in his throat. He never reacted well when Viktor was hurting, always felt it on his own body, and apparently, that hasn’t changed.
He needs to touch Viktor, to feel him just as much as he needs Viktor to feel him, tell him that he’s here because he knows Viktor well enough to sense that he needs that right now, even if he can’t ask. In a feeble attempt to get closer he slips his arm behind Viktor’s back, but it doesn’t work, there’s too much metal, too much separating them. With an irritated sigh, he pulls back, slipping his hand down Viktor’s arm, grasping at a part that isn’t covered by anything but fabric.
While Viktor doesn’t react, a rush goes through Jayce’s body when he realises that the only thing separating his skin from Viktor’s is a piece of fabric, that he’s right here, but it still isn’t enough.
Even though Viktor isn't looking at him, Jayce reaches for his face, trying to ignore how much his fingers are shaking already. Viktor nearly flinches when Jayce's fingertips graze his chin, to cup his jaw, feeling the muscles vibrate with tension underneath Viktor's skin. He doesn't linger, but pulls back, placing his hand on top of Viktor's, slowly stroking it with his thumb.
"Never. You’re never a disappointment, Viktor."
It’s weird, sitting here trying to reassure Viktor, something he never thought he would do again — and yet, it feels natural. They might as well never have been apart. Despite being covered in metal, Jayce is still able to read Viktor’s body language, the strained breath, the flexing of his fingers. To anyone else he might look like someone who wants to be left alone, but Jayce knows he’s currently using all his energy to hold back his emotions, and if only Jayce is patient—
Jayce inhales sharply when at last, Viktor slowly raises one of his hands, and despite his knowledge about Viktor there’s a moment where he thinks this is it, this is the most he’ll ever get, being close to Viktor for a moment, only to let him go once again.
But to his surprise, Viktor doesn’t move away.
His hand lingers in the air before he slowly turns his head to face Jayce, whose heart skips a beat when he sees the tears pooling in his eyes, glistening in the dark, threatening to spill any second.
As soon as Viktor’s hand cups Jayce’s jaw, they do. They roll down his cheeks, and immediately Jayce feels the need to wipe them away because it hurts too much to watch, but he stays still under Viktor’s touch. It’s hesitant at first as if he’s afraid to hurt Jayce, even though he’s touched him so many times before. A broken sob escapes Viktor as he exhales all the tension he’s been keeping inside, his entire body shaking with it.
“It’s alright,” Jayce whispers under his breath.
Viktor nods, the movement barely visible, and his touch gets more insistent. Trembling fingers pressing into Jayce’s jaw, caressing him, slipping behind his neck.
“We can’t,” Viktor whispers, but his eyes are pleading for Jayce to tell him he’s wrong.
“You never let others tell you what you can’t do. Why start now?” There’s a hint of a smile on Viktor’s lips as his lower lip quivers. Jayce bites his own lip, not able to withstand it anymore. “Only we have the power to stop this.”
He wraps his fingers around the back of Viktor’s neck, feeling the locks of his hair between his fingertips, and it’s more of a reflex when he starts playing with it, an old habit.
“Can I—” Jayce trails off, lost in the way Viktor looks at him. Soft and full of wonder, such a contradiction to the way they’ve treated each other for the longest time. Deciding he’s not going to construct a coherent sentence, Jayce makes the decision himself.
When their lips meet, Viktor doesn’t show any signs of moving away, but despite that, Jayce grips his neck with more force, holding him tight. Viktor’s hand slips up Jayce’s neck to his hair with the same desperation.
It’s a simple kiss, but it makes Jayce feel more alive than he’s felt in a long time. It only lasts for a few seconds before Jayce pulls back to look at Viktor, to make sure he’s okay with it. Caringly, he wipes away the tears on Viktor’s cheeks, no longer wanting to focus on the pain, but on the vivid spark in Viktor’s golden eyes, one he wasn’t sure he was still able to cause.
“I can’t fight you anymore,” Jayce says, finally, and he knows it’s true. It’s no longer just that he doesn’t want to, he physically isn’t able to anymore, not after seeing Viktor like this, and if that means him giving up then—
“I don’t want to either.”
Viktor’s words make Jayce’s heart skip a beat. He isn’t sure what he expected, part of him thought — or hoped — that Viktor felt the same, but another part was genuinely scared to be rejected.
Viktor pulls back for a moment to click off his mask and put it down, and somehow, that emphasizes his decision. Jayce can’t help himself from running his fingers through Viktor’s hair now that he is offered the possibility.
“I don’t know how—” Viktor starts, but trails off, staring at a spot beneath Jayce’s chin. Jayce shushes him.
“We’ll figure it out.” He pulls Viktor’s head in to rest their foreheads against each other as he holds Viktor’s face in his hands, caressing it with his thumbs until Viktor’s breath calms down.
They don't know how to do this, how the world will adapt, but Jayce knows as well as Viktor that they would rather uphold this than fight each other again. And ultimately, they know deep down, they would do this—
“Together.”