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Viktor returned to the laboratory, balancing a mug in his free hand. The mug with a photograph of Jayce, and inside was Jayce’s favorite tea—orange with cinnamon. He had thought of bringing his own cup as well, but his leg hurt quite badly today, and he didn’t want to risk the safety of two mugs. This dependency in everyday matters weighed on Viktor. But he neither pitied himself nor complained to others. His other hand gripped the handle of a cane that Jayce had crafted for him. Jayce had made it shortly after Viktor’s walking stick was broken during their break-in into Heimerdinger’s office. Jayce had circled him with a measuring tape, asked him to walk unaided, jotted down notes. Even after the cane was complete, the scrap of paper with measurements still hung above Jayce’s desk, for some reason.
The cane really was better—it distributed weight more evenly. Yet now, Viktor felt less like a parody of a Viktorian aristocrat with a walking stick and more like an actual deathly-pale Viktorian whose fate might easily be determined by the next strong gust of wind. Oddly enough, today Viktor’s frail frame might actually come in handy.
“There you are! Look, I’ve set everything up. What do you think? We're not forgetting anything?” Jayce launched right into conversation, stopping in front of the central table. Viktor glanced over with interest, stepping forward and handing the mug to Jayce. Jayce took a quick sip, then flinched.
“It’s hot,” Viktor smirked.
“Thanks,” Jayce muttered, clearing his throat and setting the cup aside for now.
Viktor turned his attention to the table, where their latest inventions lay neatly arranged. They were all essential for the enforcers new reform. Surveillance devices, tiny cameras, wiretaps, special pistols that fired capsules that opened mid-flight, enveloping the target in ropes, handcuffs, gags, night-vision goggles… A tremendous amount of work had been done, and the deadline loomed.
“We need to personally test everything again before sending it off for production,” Jayce said seriously.
“Of course,” Viktor replied. “Close the blinds,” he added, reaching for the goggles.
“I checked those last night,” Jayce dismissed with a wave, separating the gadgets he’d already tested alone.
“Some of these will need assistance. You don’t mind, do you?” Jayce picked up the handcuffs.
One of Viktor’s eyebrows arched slightly.
“Today my sense of direction isn’t great. Escaping would be quite a feat,” Viktor remarked. In truth, his orientation was always a bit off, but that was a detail not directly related to the task at hand. Viktor calmly extended his hand and took the handcuffs. He twirled a ring around his finger, and Jayce found himself staring slightly.
“Turn around,” Viktor instructed.
“Shouldn’t we lock the door?” Jayce asked uncertainly, turning his back to Viktor.
“Oh, what for?” Viktor feigned surprise, adding quickly, “Hands behind your back, Mr. Talis.”
Jayce could swear his heart skipped a beat at Viktor’s mock-serious tone. This couldn’t be normal. Nothing strange about reacting to handcuffs—or to Viktor, for that matter—but the combination was definitely off, especially when they were, damn it, working. Jayce brought his hands behind his back, and immediately the cold metal snapped securely around them. Firm and unyielding.
“Perfect,” Viktor murmured. “Try to get free.”
Jayce pulled at his wrists, but to no avail.
“Very good…” Viktor’s voice drifted from behind him. Jayce knew Viktor was likely praising the cuffs, yet the idea that the words were meant for him left him flushed.
Viktor examined Jayce’s back, his tensed shoulders. Leaning his cane against the table, he reached out, checking Jayce’s wrists to ensure they were firmly held. Jayce exhaled softly.
“Jayce. Sit.”
The command came from behind him, and Jayce couldn’t help but let out an awkward chuckle, turning slowly to face Viktor.
“Aren’t you going to let me go?”
“I doubt that lawbreakers would be released from cuffs so easily. Everything has to be tested,” Viktor nodded toward the table with complete nonchalance. His calm and purely scientific approach simultaneously unsettled and reassured Jayce, who couldn’t quite discern his own feelings on the matter.
Viktor, however, was… intrigued. A theory was forming in his mind, though he needed more data to prove or disprove it. Casually, he gestured to the nearest chair. Jayce retreated and sat down, leaving Viktor to look down at him.
Viktor took one of the capsule-loaded pistols and stepped back a few paces, aiming carefully.
"Don't worry," he assured Jayce, "If it doesn't open in time, it’ll feel no worse than a walnut hitting you."
"It will open," Jayce replied confidently, keeping his gaze steady on Viktor.
After calculating the distance, Viktor pressed the trigger, and a small capsule shot from the barrel. It split into four parts mid-air, releasing tightly compressed ropes that wrapped around Jayce’s torso, pinning his arms back securely before fastening in place.
“Go ahead. Try to get out of it,” Viktor instructed, leaning his hand against the table. Jayce struggled, and though the ropes dug uncomfortably into his body, they didn’t give an inch. In fact, they seemed to tighten with each attempt.
“Well done,” Viktor commented. By now, Jayce was certain the praise was meant for him, and it didn’t make things any easier.
Viktor circled him, using Jayce's shoulder as support instead of his cane, and inspected the binding around his wrists, carefully verifying the tension. Jayce exhaled shakily.
"Let's see how long it takes them to loosen automatically. Capsules are not intended to work for a long time, it's only a way to apprehend a criminal in pursuit, and after that the handcuffs will do the job. But incidents happen, so it would be nice to know the approximate duration."
"So I'm supposed to just sit here for god knows how long?"
"Mhm. Tea?" - he replied, his tone steady and scientific. Yet, Viktor could feel a faint spark of thrill somewhere under his typically measured demeanor.
"Sure."
Viktor walked over to him with the cup and pressed the edge to his lips. Jace took a sip without breaking eye contact, a couple drops running down his chin. Viktor watched with a clinical detachment how Jayce licked his lips. When he tried to catch Jace's gaze again, he realized that his eyes were also fixed on his lips. Victor blinked and looked away. His theory was becoming less and less ethical.
"Call me if you need me," Viktor hurried to retreat, but rushing never helped him, so now he swayed slightly without his cane and chose Jace instead of the floor, grabbing his shoulder and resting his knee on the chair between his legs. Jace felt his ears redden.
"Viktor. Release me," Jace spoke in an orderly tone now, but it was different. The raspiness in his voice and the snarling ending to his partner's name gave him away. Viktor felt that if he released Jace, he wouldn't get up himself again for a while...
“We… we need to finish the quality control,” Viktor managed, slowly pushing himself back up, feeling his pulse race as Jayce, restrained and unable to move, looked at him with an intensity that Viktor could barely withstand.
Jayce watched Viktor as he returned to his desk, a wave of heat prickling his skin at the closeness and tension that had hung thick in the air. Viktor busied himself with adjustments and measurements, but each scratch of the pen and click of the tools seemed to betray his own quickened heartbeat.
For a while, silence filled the room. Both of them used the quiet to compose themselves, trying to push past the strange haze of tension. But eventually, Jayce grew restless.
The last few minutes were marked by an onslaught of Jayce’s questions and comments:
“How much longer, do you think?”
“Should we test this on an inanimate object next time?”
“Would you make more tea?”
“Are we shipping everything out today?”
“How many copies of the instructions should we prepare?”
“Jayce…” Viktor finally sighed, setting down his tweezers and turning toward him. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“So am I! Let me out already. It’s clear this is going to take forever.”
“‘Forever’ isn’t quite accurate. We need precise data,” Viktor replied with a weary glance at the clock. His eyes drifted back to the table, catching on something that seemed to offer a solution to their immediate problem. With a soft scrape of his chair, Viktor stood and shuffled to the table under Jayce’s curious gaze.
When Viktor returned, he was holding a gag—a small, polished device that glinted faintly under the laboratory lights.
“Open your mouth. Don’t worry, it’s sterile,” Viktor said, holding the device up for inspection.
Jayce blinked, glancing down at the gag, and felt his stomach churn. This was… too much. He looked back at Viktor, almost pleading for this to be some kind of joke.
"Or you've tested it already?" - Viktor arched his eyebrow.
"...no. But I'm sure that-" he shut up when Viktor's hand rested on his jaw.
“You’re incredibly patient, Jayce,” Viktor said in a calm, even voice, his fingers brushing the edges of Jayce’s face. “Thanks to you, we’ll have all this finished by tonight and can move on to something more… engaging.”
The device was designed to apply light pressure to the tongue while securing the jaw. Jayce flushed as the gag settled into place. Without realizing it, he had already parted his lips obediently, allowing Viktor to adjust the straps and ensure a snug fit.
“There we go, perfect,” Viktor murmured, stepping behind Jayce to inspect the fastening. “Say something,” he prompted, leaning down slightly to hear the muffled response. Jayce’s attempt at speech came out as a soft, strained sound.
Viktor circled back around, now facing Jayce directly, studying his reaction. He felt a pang of intrigue—a purely scientific interest, of course—as he observed the way Jayce’s shoulders tensed, the faint color blooming across his cheeks. Viktor adjusted his grip on his cane, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
“Jayce, do you have a fever?” Viktor leaned forward, pressing two fingers against Jayce’s neck. “Your heart’s racing like a jackhammer.”
Jayce’s breath hitched, tension coiling tightly within him. The restraints, the closeness, the faint brush of Viktor’s fingers—it was all too much. His thoughts were scattered, his pulse wild. Viktor, meanwhile, tried to maintain his usual stoicism, though the growing heat in his own chest made it increasingly difficult. His theory, while unspoken, was becoming more and more undeniable.
Jayce felt cramped. In the handcuffs, the ropes, but especially in his pants. All Viktor had to do was lower his gaze just a little to notice it. Hell, Jayce would have needed a minute or two of the slightest friction to get it over with. He could put one leg on top of the other... Just like that, looking into the eyes of his colleague who'd tied him up and said a couple of affectionate sentences.
Viktor’s fingers lingered on his neck, gently circling to tilt his head back, examining the gag’s fit. The device, though universal in size, seemed made specifically for Jayce, resting snugly as if crafted just for him.
Jayce, for his part, was grateful for the gag, simply because it stopped him from saying something reckless. The weight of Viktor’s gaze, the heat of his fingers—if he could speak now, there was no guarantee he’d maintain his composure. Silence wasn’t just a necessity; it was a mercy.
“We’ll see how much longer it takes for the ropes to release,” Viktor said, moving back to his desk. Jayce watched him with darkened eyes, silently willing Viktor to stay. His imagination painted completely ungodly pictures of how easy it would be to bend Viktor over this table, to take the nearest handcuffs... And it didn't matter that he was the one tied up now. The very possibility. The closeness.
To Viktor’s hypothesis, Jayce neither protested nor signaled for the gag to be removed. He simply sat there, tense and waiting, letting the experiment play out.
It was another ten minutes before the ropes loosened with a faint snap, falling away as the capsule fragments clattered to the floor. Jayce shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, and stood. Without hesitation, he strode toward Viltor’s desk and perched himself on its edge.
Jayce’s gaze was sharp, his pupils dark and dilated, and in the dim laboratory light, his eyes almost looked black.
“Well,” Viktor murmured, clearing his throat as he stepped closer. “Approximately thirty minutes, then.” He stood before Jayce and carefully reached up to undo the gag. The device slipped free with a faint click, leaving a brief string of saliva between the gag and Jayce’s lips. Jayce licked his lips slowly, swallowing as he adjusted his posture, leaning further onto the desk’s surface. Viktor, standing between his knees, froze.
“Viktor,” Jayce’s voice was low, rasping with heat. “Where’s the key to the cuffs?”
Viktor’s breath hitched. He couldn’t look away from Jayce’s piercing gaze. Finally, he managed to say, “In my back pocket.”
Before Viktor could react further, Jayce’s legs crossed around his waist, locking him in place. The sudden move pulled Viktor against him, leaving no space between their bodies.
“Good. Wouldn’t want you escaping now,” Jayce said, a faint smirk curling his lips as he relished uncharacteristic fluster of his partner who'd almost made him finish with the slightest touch ten minutes ago.
Viktor's fingers twitch as he pulls out the keys. He leans over to Jayce and reaches behind his back, handing them over. Jayce fiddles for a while, figuring out how to unlock the cuffs. Viktor watches the movements over his shoulder.
"A little to the right and higher. Yeah, that's good. A little higher still. Good," Viktor's whispers instructions, and Jayce bites his lip. His hips grind a little to get something, anything, the slightest bit of friction. Viktor presses in tighter, covering the hand with the key with his own to help a little, his knees shaking, but Jayce's legs hold him tightly close.
Now Viktor can feel everything and he's dizzy with embarrassment, with the truth of his theory, with how warm Jayce is and how his heart is pounding. As they fumble with the key, the friction becomes enough, and as soon as the handcuffs clank and fall to the table, Jayce gasps and hides his face in the curve of Victor's neck. His legs clench tightly together before abruptly loosening. Viktor cautiously looks up, his face flushed now, and he can't find the words.
They don't notice the modest knock on the door, as Sky appears on the doorstep and stares at them for a few long seconds before retreating back with an embarrassed "Excuse me!".
"Sky, wait, this is..."
"Quality Control!" Jace finishes for him, smiling very broadly for some reason.