Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There weren’t a lot of things that could unnerve a Medarda, one of the few family principles that Mel prided herself on. It made her all the angrier that she couldn’t stop herself from silently fuming while Jayce shared a milkshake with his lab partner across the table. 

Asking him out – unsurprisingly – had been the easy part. She had caught Jayce sneaking glances at her when he thought she was too engrossed in her papers all year, watched him trail after her like a lost puppy when she was looking for books at the library, listened to his laughter, bright and entirely too loud, whenever she was sharing a joke with her friends. 

"Take some pity on him," Elora had said to her one afternoon over a cup of fine Ionian blend. "If you don’t, he’s going to embarrass himself even further. Half of the school is already talking about it."
Mel suspected that her best friend and personal assistant had her own motives in advocating for a relationship between her and House Talis’ oldest.
They never argued, but the closest they had come to a true fight had been when Elora had suggested Mel take a break from her rigorous politics training and focus on enriching her social life. At the time, Mel had dismissed the notion like she had never heard anything quite as ridiculous. She was already committed enough to her social obligations – endlessly charming her peers, professors, and every other member of the Piltovian high society wherever she went. What enrichment would a relationship bring to her life that a prestigious internship or a beautiful new gown could not?

But, contrary to her clear and vehement refusal of the idea, she had noticed Jayce’s eager smile when offering her a seat next to him in any of their shared classes, his strong hands as he carried her books and projects for her, his broad shoulders, his confident tone when he was presenting his latest invention to Professor Heimerdinger. Jayce Talis was, perhaps, an investment worth her time, she thought. And thought. 

He had accepted her invite to dinner with all the charm of a bumbling schoolboy, almost dropping his toolbox when she had laid a hand on his arm in passing – feeling the warmth of his solid muscles through his shirt and making a mental note to herself to be a more willing recipient to Elora’s next word of advice. 

Friday at seven, at a restaurant that was neither too formal nor too far out of Jayce’s funds. It was common knowledge at the Academy that he had started an apprenticeship with one of Piltover’s best manufacturers, a friend of his family’s, as most female – and a considerable number of male students – had giddily circulated pictures of him, sweat clinging to his brow, shirtless body glistening in the low light of the forge. How childish, Mel had thought, but if she had kept the picture Elora had sent her in an effort to sway her in her gallery… That was strictly Medarda business. 

The week had passed in a blur of unremarkable presentations, assignments and polite but empty chatter with her classmates. Mel was bored out of her mind by Friday and shamefully felt a not-so-small tingle of excitement at the idea of her dinner date later that evening. 

After class, she excused herself without much preamble and spent the next three hours flitting around her penthouse trying on different dresses that would make Jayce Talis undeniably smitten with her by the end of the night. 

After a short moment of clarity and the steadfast realization that she was Piltover’s most desired bachelorette no matter what shade of cream, ivory or eggshell she picked for her gown, Mel told Elora to delay all business matters and calls until morning before she ordered a private driver to take her to her destination, all the while daydreaming – objectively! – about black hair and kind brown eyes. In her distress – minor emotional conundrum – over the best way to woo the Academy’s brightest, she had departed slightly later than planned and in turn, arrived at the restaurant a few minutes past seven. Certainly a misstep in finer circles, but Jayce was a toolmaker’s son. He would hardly find a problem with something quite so insignificant. Or so Mel reassured herself. 

Only to find somebody else occupying her table, already engaged in a lively discussion with the man of the evening. 

To say she found herself dumbfounded would’ve been an understatement. Mel thought about the specifications of her invitation – Friday, seven, wear something nice – and missed any part that had alluded to the presence of a third party being necessary. Or wanted, for that matter. 

For a moment, she felt a jolt of panic at the thought that Jayce hadn’t understood her intentions for what they were. Did he think she was just asking him to have dinner with her as barely-even-friends that they were? Hadn’t she been clear enough? 

Then, she remembered the blush that had first spread across his neck, then his ears, and finally his entire face, and the shakiness of his voice when he had accepted her offer. No, she was sure he had understood just fine. 

Which begged the question of what in heaven’s name he was doing leaning across the table to brush an unruly strand of hair out of another man’s eyes. 

"Ahem," Mel said, immediately chiding herself for not announcing her presence in a more eloquent and charming manner. Granted, she already felt a pinch of irritation at arriving to find her spot at the table she had reserved for the two of them occupied. 

Jayce turned around at the sound of her voice and had the decency to look flustered, practically jumping out of his seat and crossing the distance between them to take her bags and silk coat for her.

"Mel! I’m sorry, I arrived early and already ordered for us!"

He took a second to let his eyes wander over her appearance before snapping them back to her face, blushing in embarrassment. "You, uh, look beautiful."

She laughed coyly, in part because of his obvious admiration of her beauty and also out of amusement at herself for even doubting his interest.

"You don’t look half bad yourself, Jayce."

He didn’t. He had donned a simple but pristine white overcoat and a red collared shirt underneath, wearing his house colors handsomely.

Handing her belongings to a waiter and drawing out his own chair for her, he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. "Viktor and I had a checkup with one of our suppliers in the area, so we were already in this part of town and thought we could quickly discuss our new prototype before you arrived."

"I see," Mel answered after a quick pause for lack of better words. "If it’s not too confidential, I’d love to see it for myself. I have heard a lot about your… ingenious inventions over the semester and I’ve always wondered if I could ever witness your creative process firsthand."
She had to admit that Jayce’s intellect and reputation as Heimerdinger’s star pupil was a big part of his appeal. Should she follow in her family’s footsteps and expand her political influence in Piltover, he would be a valuable asset. Besides, she was fond of practical inventions herself, and talking to a clever mind would surely prove to be less dull than conversing with the average Councillor’s daughter or son that had managed to sneak into their teacher’s good graces through good connections rather than skill. 

"Oh, there’s really not much we can share in this early stage of development," Jayce said, uncomfortably squeezing into the booth next to the other man who had gone silent at her arrival. 

Confused why he wasn’t getting up and excusing himself to leave them to their dinner, she now studied him with a guarded expression. He was around Jayce’s age, maybe a little older, or maybe the gauntness of his face and the sharpness of his cheekbones were simply aging him unfavorably. He had a skittish, sort of hunched way of holding himself and was currently staring daggers at his untouched milkshake instead of acknowledging her presence. Mel decided that he was too common for her to concern herself with – probably the sort of odd scientist that only talked inside the lab and went mute around normal people – and that she would politely tune out his existence until he felt awkward enough to leave. 

"- but of course, we haven’t tested those exact calibrations yet and there are still some problems with the energy flow that we’re working on fixing! It’s just a brilliant idea Viktor had, is all."

Realizing Jayce had droned on about their new prototype and she had missed the majority of his explanations, Mel graced him with her most winning smile and nodded in natural agreement.
"Superb, Jayce. I’ll wait patiently to see what you have come up with, then. Whenever you decide it is ready for testing, do let me know and I’ll be the first to endorse the project."

"Mel, that– You’re being way too kind, I couldn’t possibly–" Seeing Jayce stumble over his words in flustered bafflement brought her no small amount of satisfaction. 

"I’d be hugely grateful if you supported our project," Jayce continued after he had composed himself. "But really, Viktor is the one who should be getting all the credit." He playfully nudged the man next to him with his shoulder. Absentmindedly, Mel thought that a harder push might have sent him flying out of the booth and that she wouldn’t have been too mad about it. Then, she almost cringed at her own petty jealousy. 

"Ah yes, this infamous Viktor must be you," she finally acknowledged in an effort to calm her guilt, turning her head and extending a hand across the table, which the man shook weakly before promptly tucking his own away in his pocket like the touch had offended him. No manners, she thought, averting her gaze yet again to focus on the man she had come to win over. "I wasn’t aware you had an assistant, Jayce! Is this a recent development?"

Strangely, her words seemed to heighten the tension instead of dispelling it. "He isn’t my assistant, actually." In quiet disbelief, Mel had to stop her jaw from dropping as Jayce reached out and clasped Viktor on the shoulder in a brazen show of affection. "He’s my partner. We’ve been working together since the Young Innovator’s competition last year."

"How wonderful," Mel remarked drily. "And is he there for all of your experiments?" And all of your dates, she almost added. 

"Uh, is that weird?" Jayce shrugged, grinning in that typical boyish way of his that would have sent her heart fluttering despite herself had she not been entirely confused and more than slightly annoyed by Viktor’s continued presence at their table like that answer explained his reasons for even showing up.
"Working with Viktor is much easier and more efficient than trying to come up with concepts and ideas all by myself. I almost can’t imagine life without him now! It’s funny, I had this thought earlier that you two are the smartest people I know." Gesturing between them excitedly, Jayce leaned over and took a sip of the milkshake his assistant – no, partner – had ordered, hair brushing the other man’s face as he scooted closer. Viktor only sighed fondly but didn’t move an inch. 

Mel swallowed a remark about not appreciating being compared to just anybody and sent him a strained smile, smoothing out her gown. 

Leaning back, Jayce mirrored her, straightening his lapels and pushing a stubborn strand of hair back in his signature neat style. He really looked unfairly handsome. "I think you’d get along great!"

"I’m sure," Mel forced herself to agree between grit teeth while Viktor let out a noncommittal hum. Putting as much saccharine sweetness into her voice as she could muster and keeping her eyes solely trained on Jayce, she continued. "Tell me, what is it that you do, Viktor? I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never seen you at the Academy before. And I know everybody, you must have…slipped my radar."

It’s not like she wanted to talk to him, but forcing the unwanted third presence at the table out of his comfort zone brought her a lowly sort of joy that her mother surely would have disciplined her for. Thanking the heavens that Ambessa Medarda was far enough across the ocean not to bear witness to her daughter’s pitiful third-wheeling during a date she had organized, she suppressed a shudder. 

"I don’t attend the Academy," Viktor answered shortly. His accent took her by surprise, something foreign and unfamiliar. "You could say I…lacked the requirements to register. Professor Heimerdinger was so kind to let me fill the role of his research assistant. I have been helping him for over two years."

Mel felt a twinge of sympathy for him. Moving to Piltover for her studies had been an adjustment even if it had only benefitted her financially. She knew Piltovian society didn’t take kindly to outsiders. Especially not if they had an unpleasant air of mistrust and skepticism about them like Viktor did. 

"Working with Jayce is another privilege then," she observed. "He hasn’t mentioned you much, so excuse my curiosity."

"Oh, I don’t think I’m that much of a catch when it comes to lab partners!" Jayce interjected hastily. "Viktor always tells me I never clean up after myself and my handwriting is horrible!" He visibly cringed. "I’m not sure why I’m even telling you this."

Chuckling in genuine amusement, Mel tilted her head and glanced at him through thick lashes. "Be that as it may. I’m certain you have other qualities that more than make up for it." She basically purred the last sentence, delighting in the widening of Jayce’s eyes and the quickening of his breath. She almost missed the exasperated huff Viktor made behind his hand that he tried to play off as a cough. Almost. She narrowed her eyes at him, mostly offended at his rudeness but at the same time intrigued at his motive. He wouldn’t leave, threatening to ruin the evening she had prepared for the entire week. He didn’t know his opponent was the one person in Piltover that had enjoyed an upbringing focused solely on getting her way at all times no matter who she was up against. Two could play that game. 

"In fact, Jayce, your good reputation is part of the reason I asked you here."

"It… is?" Had it been any other person, she would’ve called a bluff, but Jayce seemed genuinely unaware of the effect he had on half of his peers. It was time to up her game.

A little nudge was enough to send her knife clattering to the ground and she made a show of flinching back and looking mildly embarrassed. True to her calculations, Jayce wasted no time making a grab for the utensil. In one swift motion, Mel dove and covered his bigger hand with her own, letting her fingers linger near his pulse point. She waited a second to feel his heartbeat double and pulled back gracefully, setting the knife back on the table and giving her date, who was emerging from underneath the table looking slightly dazed, a radiant smile. 

"How clumsy of me!" Viktor had abandoned the pretense of not listening in on their conversation and was fully glaring at her now from the corner of her eye. "To answer your question, surely you’re aware of your own success? They’re calling you Piltover’s brightest inventor in a century. I have to say, although our conversations have always been stimulating, I feel like there is a lot that I can still learn from you. I’m eager to hear all about your secrets."

"I didn’t know you were paying so much attention to what I did," Jayce mumbled, struggling with himself. "I’m not from a prestigious house like the others, and my family isn’t influential like yours. I guess I’m good at what I do, but that isn’t what sets me apart from anyone else. I only got lucky that I found something that really matters to me."

"Your inventions matter to all of Piltover, Jayce," Mel said earnestly and she found herself believing in it. Jayce was a piece of eye candy even on a bad day but his mind was by far the most impressive thing about him. His win at the Young Innovator’s Competition had put him on the map early and the whole of Piltover was hanging onto his every step, basically falling over themselves to sponsor him. "I believe you will achieve great things."

Jayce looked up at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. His expression was one of bashfulness and awe. "Thanks, Mel, I-"

"Not just Piltover," Viktor interjected quietly. 

Irritated, Mel threw him a questioning glance. "Excuse me?"

Leaning one arm on the table, Viktor made a little motion with his hand, waving his spindly fingers. "Jayce will help not just Piltover, but all of us. The projects we are working on will one day clear the air in the Undercity, allow plants to return to the fissures and save a lot of lives that Piltover doesn’t give a-"

He winced as Jayce presumably gave him a small kick under the table, judging by his worried but focused expression. 

"That Piltover doesn’t have the capacities to consider at the moment," Viktor finished darkly. "There hasn’t been a scientist in years that has dedicated even an ounce of their time to bettering the lives of the less privileged. What Jayce is accomplishing is not just brilliant, it’s groundbreaking!"

"Woah, there, V!" Jayce laughed, cheeks dark with embarrassment. When he turned to look at his partner, his eyes were dancing with tiny hopeful lights. "What’s gotten into you? Normally, I have to solve an impossible equation for you to even tell me I did good."

Viktor lifted his shoulders in a gesture that probably meant to say he didn’t see what the big deal was but the reddening of his ears betrayed him. "I thought we were all sharing our honest opinions."

"That’s the nicest you’ve been to me," Jayce huffed, laughter still in his voice but a slight furrow to his brow, "…probably ever."

There was a moment when both men shared a glance without saying anything.

Hawkeyed, Mel observed the miniature shift in Viktor’s posture, a tiny straightening of his spine and a flush that extended to his pallid face that wasn’t there before. 

She forced her eyes back to Jayce – the person she was here for, who hadn’t made one move to get Viktor to leave despite him sticking out like a sore thumb in the nice restaurant, with his crumpled lab attire and bad slouch and foreign accent – and witnessed in horror the tiny, incredibly fond smile that illuminated his face from within. Seeing it directed at another person made her feel strange, removed, like it was something she wasn’t meant to see. It made her feel like –

With a start, she realized that maybe Viktor wasn’t the person intruding on their date, she was. 

Just then, a waiter arrived with their food and a drink for her, sweet and fruity, with cherries floating on top. Mel firmly disliked sweet drinks, favoring classic wine or herbal mixtures. 

Her new realization made her reel and stab her food almost violently, fork clanking against porcelain as she speared an unfortunate rosemary potato on it. 

"Are you okay, Mel?" Jayce asked, suddenly concerned, and she had to remind herself that it wasn’t entirely his fault she had dragged him here when he was obviously involved with his lab partner. Had she insisted too much? Maybe he felt like he owed her after she had welcomed him into her circle of socialites and made him all the more popular at the Academy. Maybe he saw her as a dear friend. Or maybe, he was playing her just as he was playing Viktor, choosing to entertain the notion of leading them both on at the same time while he enjoyed making them squirm. 

The last thought set her on edge, all the while igniting that vicious streak she harbored that came to light whenever she felt disrespected. A  Medarda didn’t squirm. 

"Quite so!" Wiping her lips with her napkin, she carefully arranged her cutlery. "I’ve just remembered there’s an important meeting with my tutor that slipped my mind. I hate to cut this date short as I have perfectly enjoyed myself, but it really is urgent." Mentioning the date was, perhaps, a brazen move, and a prime opportunity for her to embarrass herself with her false assumptions about the evening. Still, some part of her had to know what angle Jayce was playing from. 

"Oh, but you haven’t even finished your drink!" Jayce’s voice was laced with clear disappointment and he made an aborted motion with his hand like he wanted to stop her from getting up. Something like recognition crossed his face at the last second and he withdrew his hand, instead balling it into a fist and letting his shoulders droop. He made no effort to correct her, only staring sadly at his half-empty plate, and so Mel was left with the impression that Jayce Talis was possibly the most pathetic two-timing idiot the world had ever seen. 

"Don’t worry, I’m sure Viktor will like it just fine!" she quipped, too brightly, and swiftly made a motion for the staff to bring her belongings. "Since you like to share, I don’t think he will mind."

"Why would Viktor take your drink?" Jayce asked, dumbfounded. 

Mel sighed, exasperated and still, despite her best efforts, ever so terribly fond. "You’re a smart man, Jayce. I’m sure you can figure it out. I really have to get going though."

Jayce rose from his seat, accompanying her to the door. Mel gracefully slipped into her coat and stepped out into the chill of the evening, closing her eyes for a moment to fight back irrational tears of indignation. She silently chided herself for getting her hopes up in the first place. Jayce Talis was a pawn. He was a brilliant mind that would serve her well no matter how she went about it. His unconventional relationship with his lab partner had forced her to change her plans, but it didn’t need to complicate anything else. 

A friend would be just as valuable as… Whatever she had envisioned for Jayce before she knew the truth. 

The creak of the door behind her alerted her to his presence. He rubbed the back of his head in a gesture of self-consciousness and glanced at her uncertainly from behind lowered lashes. 

 "How will you get to your meeting? Do you need me to drive you? I mean, I’d be happy to."

She waved him off with a quick flick of her wrist. "No need. My private chauffeur is on the way."

Expecting the conversation to end and him to retreat back inside, she was puzzled when he opened his mouth several times like a goldfish only to close it again when no sound came out. 

Ambessa may have raised her to be cold and vindictive, but at her core, Mel had always been too empathetic for her own good. Jayce may have led her on in  such a brazen way nobody else had ever dared to before, but she still had a weakness for him at the end of the day. She vowed to take pity on him one last time before going home to lick her wounds and gossip with Elora. 

"What is so troubling that you can’t bring yourself to say it?" she asked, quirking one eyebrow. 

 Jayce took a deep breath in, steeling himself, then let it all out in one exhale. "Did I do something wrong today?"

Mel blinked. Out of all possible things he could’ve said, this hadn’t crossed her mind. She had sooner expected him to offer a vague explanation for his behavior instead of an open show of confusion and vulnerability. 

Did he honestly not see the faux pas he had committed, inviting the other person he was infatuated with to their date? 

"I’m not sure if I can follow," she admitted. "I thought it was obvious. A word of advice from somebody who may have more experience with this than you do: No woman wants to feel like a second choice. Especially not when it wasn’t made clear to her that that was what she was going to be."

"But you’re not a second choice?" Jayce said, voice cracking on the last syllable. "You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I was honestly surprised you even asked me out. Why would you ever think that?"

The angry tears were threatening to return, something she would never let herself live down, and as the evening progressed Mel had become tired and irritated enough to forget the number one rule of proper etiquette for a second. Observe, don’t tell. "So you’re not in love with Viktor?"

There was a sharp intake of breath, like a knife sliding on stone, and then an outburst that surprised both of them.

"What? No way!" Jayce was blushing like a mad man, hands having flown to Mel’s shoulders as if to hold onto her for support. His palms were clammy. "No, no, Viktor is my buddy! He’s my partner, yes, and he’s brilliant, and I owe him my life – everything! But I’m not…"

He hesitated, and that split second was enough time for a new thought to pop into Mel’s head, unbidden. Maybe not a player then. Maybe he doesn’t even know it himself. It seemed unlikely with the way Viktor was hanging onto his every word like he hung the stars for him, and if that secret smile between the two was anything to go off, Jayce wasn’t entirely unaffected. But it was a way to explain his odd behavior and why he had agreed to go out with her knowing she would see right through him. A possibility for her to save face. 

"You have to believe me, I really didn’t mean to give you that impression. This was supposed to be our date! Viktor just… He just happened to be here at the same time, but that doesn’t mean anything!"

"Hm," Mel said, somehow encompassing her feelings on the matter into one vague syllable. "If you can convince yourself of that, maybe you can convince me, too. I was somewhat looking forward to getting to know you."

Interlacing their fingers for a moment, she cradled his large, warm hands in her slender ones. "One on one, I mean."

"Ah,"  Jayce rasped, dumbly, still the reddest she had ever seen him but with that damning smile returning to his face. "I’d like that, too."

There was a sound like thunder on cobblestone as her driver made a stop in front of the restaurant a few feet away, having spotted her but waiting at a respectful distance for her to say her goodbyes. 

Mel gave Jayce’s hands on her shoulders one last squeeze before gently stepping back and making her way to the passenger side door. At the last moment, she turned around and gave him a playful wink, before getting in the car and forcing herself to look away as the vehicle drove past the entrance. 

Once they had arrived at her apartment, she drew herself a scalding hot shower, and laughed to herself. She must’ve looked odd to anybody who knew her. 

There were three things she had learned over the course of the evening. 

One, Jayce Talis had a lab partner who was in love with him. 

Two, Jayce Talis had some sort of feelings for his lab partner. 

Three, Jayce Talis was wholly, blissfully unaware of his own feelings.  

Which meant she still had a way to play this game to her advantage. 

Chapter Text

Jayce found her first one afternoon with the late summer sun casting a golden halo around his head and a bouquet of white roses clutched to his chest. 

"I know I messed up. Let me make it up to you."

It had been about a week since their fiasco of a first date and Mel had spent the bigger part of each day thinking of ways to win Jayce back that didn't include her having to grovel for his attention a second time. 

In a perverse reversal of roles, she had to catch herself sending him sidelong glances every now and then instead of focusing on her actual work. "The God-Willow was of immense importance to both human Ionians and the Vastayan people of the continent, who guarded the tree from anyone who wished it harm. Unfortunately, the tree was destroyed when..."
Her mother would have had her train for hours in the blistering heat had she any idea of the distraction Mel was letting Jayce Talis turn into.

Him approaching her made things a lot less humiliating and also gave her the prime opportunity to strike in a way she knew best. 

Their second day was scheduled for an unassuming Tuesday, at a time when they were both free from internships and schoolwork and whatever Jayce and Viktor got up to in their lab that Mel wasn't sure she wanted to know about. 

Coincidentally, it was also the time when Viktor left to "run errands, or visit some old friends" as he did every second week, at least according to Jayce. That cleared a path for Mel to sneak herself into their sacred laboratory and his good graces in a single calculated move. 

The lab was nothing short of a minefield. Upon arrival – and upon her insistence that she was just dying to get a glimpse of their workplace – Jayce had self-consciously unlocked the heavy iron door for her and then spent all of thirty seconds scrambling from one corner to another, trying to free the floor of their latest experiment. Something like scraps of bark littered the entire space which Jayce unceremoniously swept into a pile before she could think of stepping on them. For her benefit, he explained. The plant didn't have much stakes in what happened to it anymore, he added mournfully. 

"We're experimenting on a new strain of bioluminescent fern that can withstand the toxic air down in the fissures. There's not a lot of plants that can grow there due to water pollution, lack of sunlight and sour earth but we're hopeful that this modified version can adapt to it. It would not only cleanse the air but also provide a light source for the miners if we can amplify its properties. Viktor got the idea from the kinds of plants he saw down there growing up. We asked Sky – oh right, you wouldn't know her. She's our assistant! She said technically we can make it work by combining aspects of two different genomes of related species and selecting the kind of resilient genes we want."

"Viktor is from the undercity?" Mel asked and immediately wanted to slap herself for even bringing it up when Jayce had just mentioned him in passing. She had suspected it when he had passionately talked about helping the less privileged people who lived on the southern part of the lake, but she hadn't found a way of confirming it and after her talk with Jayce and her preparations for their second date, it hadn't appeared relevant enough to ask anymore. 

Jayce paused in his spirited musings and looked at her with a surprised expression for a moment before shrugging. "He doesn't like to talk about it. I know living conditions improved a lot in recent years but there's still so much that needs fixing. I can't imagine what it was like growing up, not being able to cross the bridge and without the sponsorship program... It's left its mark.  He's one of the toughest people I know."

There it was again, that strange expression on his face. Talking to Viktor had made him appear soft, unguarded. Talking about him when he was absent made him seem wistful. 

Mel felt like she had bit into a lemon. 

Something seemed to snap Jayce out of his reverie and he shot her an apologetic glance before gently snaking an arm around her shoulder to guide her to another part of the room that was closer to the large window taking up one side. 
Glancing out and down, she could see the shining rooftops of Piltover, the cobblestone streets, ships lazing in the harbor, impressions of gold and blue wherever the eye could reach. When she blinked, she could instead almost see jagged mountain ridges, solid stone walls and strongholds, and red, always red, unforgiving and resentful. 

They went around the table, Jayce always a minimum of two steps ahead of her, explaining to her in his soft but animated voice the prototypes they were working on, the ways life could be improved, made easier for so many, if they could just crack the code. He showed her sketches of water filtration plants that were bigger and more effective than anything Piltovians in prior decades had set in place. Briefly, she wondered how much of his work was confidential, how big the risk he was taking actually was by letting her see his inventions years before they would enter the market. That soft, girlish part of her that her mother had sent her away for rejoiced at the notion of him trusting her with his life's work. It was romantic, in a way.
The part that sounded more like Ambessa and her former teachers clawed at her from the inside, begging her to memorize, plot and scheme. Anything that could be used to their advantage, she had to take for herself. 

Still, there was Jayce, holding her hand, handing her a little metal toy boat that he had made on a description of one Viktor had had many years ago.  A child's toy. She tried to picture a smaller, rounder version of Viktor playing with something like it and found herself struggling to conjure up an image. She then tried to imagine herself in his stead and drew up blank. 

A silly notion of ever having owned something like that seemed to belong entirely to somebody like Jayce. 

"Do you have any pictures of yourself as a child?" she asked on a whim, settling against the table and fixing him with a pointed look that implied that saying No was not an option. She desperately needed something that would take her mind off thoughts of her own miserable childhood or even Viktor's, for heaven's sake. 

"Mel," Jayce whined, ever the embarrassed schoolboy instead of the master inventor. "You can't be serious. Why do you need to see my baby pictures?"

"I want to find out if you were always cute or if it was a recent development," she simply said and laughed at his rapidly reddening face. 
Being with Jayce, she decided, didn't have to be complicated. 

Still embarrassed but ultimately helpless in the face of her insistence, he dug in one of his many pockets for a phone and tapped the screen, illuminating his face with blue light. "I'm sure my mom has sent me some old photos," he mumbled, then aha-d when he found what he was looking for in his gallery. Holding out the phone for her to take and quickly withdrawing, he busied himself with tidying up the desk that was littered with documents and sketches of previous projects in a flurry of flustered movements. 

Jayce as a toddler possessed the same wide-eyed expression and tilted grin that his adult counterpart had. He was holding a little plastic hammer in one hand and pointing excitedly at the camera with his other. The caption on the photo read "Jayce's fourth birthday". He was sickeningly adorable.

"What do you think?" Jayce asked, seemingly out of paper to file away and shove into drawers. There was a playful but nervous edge to his voice. 

Mel hummed, handing him the phone and tracing one finger along his chest. "You kept the hammer."

Jayce blinked, eyes falling on her lips. "I did. Family tradition." His breath was shallow. 

"How sentimental," she purred, her voice silken. It was entirely too easy. "Is there anything else you picked up?"

"Well," There was a small chuckle as Jayce lowered his voice in turn. "People say I'm pretty good with my hands."

She had him now, Mel silenty triumphed, drawing patterns into the solid mass of his pectorals. A single move now and he would be hers. 
Elora had been right, a relationship with Jayce was just what she needed. Up close, she could smell his cologne, a musky, somewhat wooden scent that made her want to close her eyes and let him hold her for however long she wanted him to.
He was a good pick, she agreed. A smart, honest, hardworking man. As a Medarda, she couldn't grant just anybody the gift of her time and presence. She was fast on her way to becoming the most influential woman in Piltover, her riches already far surpassing those of anyone in her age group. A romantic relationship could never be a simple and thoughtless gamble out of sheer attraction. Anybody she was remotely close to had to be able to give her something in return. She couldn't be vulnerable without demanding a prize in exchange. 

Jayce's exchange was clear, and it was plentiful. With her sponsorship, he'd be able to rise above the scientific community in a fraction of the time it would've taken him on his own. He'd become a wealthy man and gain acclaim for his breakthroughs and charity. 
He was also beautiful, which was something that mattered to her. He would do well. 

"Only one way to find out," she murmured and from there it was hardly an effort to rise up on her toes and press her lips to his. He tasted like peppermint. 

It had been a successful evening, she thought to herself much later, gathering up her belongings and the new bouquet of flowers he had insisted on getting her when they had met up. They were white lilies.

When questioning him about his choice for exclusively white flowers, he told her that It's the color I've seen you wear most often so I thought you must like it. It was a logical conclusion to draw, from a scientist's perspective at least. 

He knew some things about her now that most others did not and so she thought it only fair to tell him that her favorite color was purple. Like the evening sky. Like peonies, which were her favorite kind of flower.

Much later that week, someone had set a bundle of peonies on her desk before class. She decided not to remark on it but something in her fractured and thawed and she didn't quite know what to make of it. 

There was one minor incident though, that soured her impression and made her feel queasy stepping out of the lab. 

Jayce had opened the door for her, all flushed and exhilarated, and she had tried to catch his gaze on her way out to tell him not to make a big deal of it. It wasn't like they were officially an item now, even though he very much looked like he had wanted to bring it up and she very much had tried to avoid it despite making up her mind. When it came to boyfriends, Jayce was the obvious choice. 

Being so absorbed in their interaction, she had failed to catch sight of Viktor making his way up the stairs before she turned around and came face to face with him, letting out an embarrassing little noise that was so unlike her that she briefly forgot to step out of the way or greet him when he tried to limp past her.

He looked entirely unimpressed at her and Jayce's disheveled appearance despite having taking notice of it almost immediately, for it wasn't like he could've missed it, exactly.

"Viktor, you're back early!" Jayce exclaimed, voice still rough from disuse, something he realized a second too late. He took a glance around the lab just as Viktor did and they must've noticed the stack of papers on the floor where he had lifted her onto the table at the same time. Mel suddenly felt supremely uncomfortable at his scrutiny and had to remind herself that it wasn't something unusual or shameful they had done. Students hooked up with each other in odd places all of the time. She had heard stories about the women's bathroom that made her never want to use a public restroom again. Viktor was the dean's assistant. He, of all people, should be familiar with the act. Then again, he didn't look like he got around much. 

Shaking his head in thinly veiled judgment, Viktor clacked his cane against the doorframe. "I went to get this old thing fixed, but they told me to come another day." 

"What's wrong with your cane?" Jayce asked, immediately zeroing in on his partner's frame. Mel suppressed the urge to sigh, still hovering uncertainly in the doorway. 

Viktor furrowed his eyebrows and made a little tsk-ing noise. "Eh, it's causing me hip problems. Too short. I've been meaning to replace it for a while now." His eyes roved around the room and landed on something at the far end of it.

"You should've just said something," Jayce answered, grabbing him by the biceps to lift his free arm over his own shoulder. It was an entirely unnecessary procedure, seeing as his partner had made at all the way across the city and back up a five story building with his faulty cane and certainly wasn't in need of assistance now. Viktor didn't protest, only grumbled, and Mel had her suspicions why. "Come on, we'll get you a chair and I'll work on a prototype for a new one. That shop will probably scam you out of your money and they don't know half of what I do about making gadgets."

Jayce suddenly seemed to remember her, turning around halfheartedly and shooting her a little grin and a needlessly formal nod. 

"See you at lecture, right?"

She nodded, giving him a pointed look and a motion of her chin in Viktor's direction, who was still staring into the distance like it had started talking to him. "Take care, Jayce."

There was nothing she wanted to do more than sleep and she felt a pang of unexplainable guilt at making Viktor witness the aftermath of her and Jayce's activities when she was almost entirely certain that he too, held deep affection for the other man.
She had to remind herself that it was irrational. There was not a single reason why she should concern herself with his opinion on their newfound relationship. 
She had won before their fight had ever started, and she felt vindicated.

Taking one last glance behind, she found the object Viktor was so single-mindedly focused on in the middle of the room. They had moved the toy boat to the shelf to gain some space on the table and there it sat, twinkling in the dim light filtering through the windows. 
She thought she understood him, then, or maybe it was just a foolish thought born of her natural ability to think entirely too much about other people's inner world. 

The door closed behind her with a rattling noise. She heard their muffled conversation all the way down the stairs. 

Chapter Text

As the summer died in soft hues of lilac and pink and the semester drew to a close, Jayce felt on top of the world. 

He handed in each of his assignments on time, was chosen by Professor Heimerdinger to present a rousing speech on the importance of discovery and perseverance in front of the entire student body on the last day of class, and ultimately was one big step closer to graduating and becoming a fully acknowledged inventor. 
Wherever he went, he was met with friendly pats on the back, appraising glances and people who had an honest interest in getting to know him. It was a far cry from who he was just a year ago, an unknown face in a crowd of many, ambitions too big for his rank and with barely anything to show for it. 
He had fought for his place at the Academy and earned it, a fact nobody could dispute now.
For the first time in his life, Jayce felt like he belonged.

The small tingle in the back of his mind that whispered words of caution was easy enough to ignore at the beginning. It was a common phenomenon among scientist to prefer days of activity and innovation to languid afternoons spent with idle chatter and a wandering mind. 

His mother had invited him –or more accurately, pleaded him to accompany her– to their summer retreat in the mountains surrounding the city. Somehow, she had managed to catch wind of his blossoming relationship with one aspiring Councillor and ever so generously extended the invitation to her, urging him to tell her about the splendid view from high up above and the peace of mind that accompanied the crisp air where no fumes or smoke ever reached.
Mel had graciously declined. 
He wasn't entirely surprised. There was not a single person in his life who was quite as committed to her cause as her. Before knowing her better, he had thought her ambition to succeed and rise above her peers rivaled that of Viktor or even his own. After spending hours each week listening to her passionate rants about the faults of the rigid and criminally outdated trading system, the giant injustice that was their lack of government funding for education or even the poorly managed campaigns for Piltovian intercity unity, he had come to acquiesce that she far surpassed them in sheer will power. 
She had cited her diplomatic training over the next couple of fortnights as a hindrance to their vacation, telling him she would spend the winter months with him instead should he wish so. 
He sometimes wondered if she had any idea how much he craved her calm and steady company on days when his mind went haywire with unsolved questions and doubts snuck into every crevice of his being. Times had progressed. Science wasn't what it used to be half a century ago. Was there any need for his solutions anymore? Would he be forgotten should he fail to deliver something substantial? 
Would he be able to help people or just further the divide?

The only person he trusted more than Mel to bring him back to reality was Viktor, who hadn't received the news of Jayce's absence over the summer with not quite as much tact and understanding as he had hoped for. 
They had spent nearly every waking moment– and most of their supposed resting time – mulling over their experiments at the lab when Jayce wasn't busy holding talks in front of a chalkboard and "sucking up to his Professors for some extra funding" as Viktor put it. 

Their idea of the bioluminescent hybrid plants had finally begun to bear fruit with the first test subjects taking well to changes in the air and surviving even on acidic soil.
On the first morning that had seen them waking up to a plant that wasn't brown and withered, but instead still green and healthy, they had giddily embraced like a pair of children on Progress Day. Viktor had almost swiped a mug of sweetened coffee off the table in his haste to jot down his report and the conclusions they could draw from it. 
Jayce, high on excitement and sleep deprivation, had stared at him for one wondrous moment, contemplating for the hundredth time how lucky he was that he had found somebody who complimented him in every way. 

He still vividly remembered the day they first met, a dreary afternoon almost two years ago. It had been pouring all day and his experiments in the Academy's haphazardly thrown-together alchemy complex had yielded no results. His spirits had been low and his deadlines weighed heavy on his mind. He had fallen asleep at the workbench and woken up to somebody shaking him awake. 
Later, Viktor would tell him that as the dean's assistant, he sometimes took it upon himself to patrol the laboratory grounds to catch sight of any promising endeavors the students produced. Technically, he was meant to report everything back to Heimerdinger, but Jayce's overtime stay was something he kept to himself only after the other had promised him that he would meet him at the same time the next day so they could go over his calculations together. Their shared journey was one born out of an excess of boredom, something Vikor still denied but couldn't disprove. A less rationally inclined person would have called it fated. Of course, Jayce was nothing if not a scientist.

In the present day, Viktor was throwing him pointed glares from underneath his goggles as he worked on dissecting the latest unfortunate plant specimen Sky had brought them that week. 
"I'm not repulsed by the idea of a break," Viktor insisted, his exasperation evident in the wrinkle between his brows and the downturn of his mouth. Nimble fingers separated the upper and lower epidermis under the microscope with a scalpel, putting one half aside in a petri dish.
Jayce crossed his arms, letting air escape through the gap in his front teeth. "I can feel your condescension from here, V. And I get it, I'd prefer to be working too, believe me. But my mom insisted and I didn't go last year–"

"We worked on our presentation last summer," Viktor stated roughly, then winced at his tone. "Which is why you're free to do whatever you please this time around. I don't know why you are under the impression that I'm, what? Upset with your plans? I don't know if you noticed, but I have other things to keep me busy than wondering about your whereabouts or how you're spending your holidays."

Feeling somewhat self-absorbed, Jayce circled the table to lean against the unoccupied side of his partner's workspace. "If it's not my vacation itself, what else has got you in such a bad mood? And don't even try to deny that!" He held up a silencing hand at seeing his partner's mouth begin to shape the words I'm not. "I've seen you kick the chair with your cane when you thought I wasn't paying attention."
Tilting his head upwards, Viktor gave him an unreadable look. He seemed to decide that whatever was eating at him could not wait the weeks Jayce would be gone, steeling himself with a push of his hands against the table. The motion sent his chair rolling backward, in turn allowing him to face Jayce fully. 

"I want to start this off by acknowledging that your personal life is none of my business." Whatever Jayce had been expecting him to confess, it wasn't this. Startled, he straightened his posture, listening intently. 

"However, what you do inside this lab very much is. You were the one who suggested we be partners. That includes a semblance of respect for the other, don't you agree?"

"I'm not following."

"Let me lay this out in simpler terms: I'd like for you to consult me the next time you think of bringing a third presence into our shared space."

Jayce blinked, mind slowly beginning to catch up. "Is this about Mel?" At Viktor's answering silence, he let out a small groan of embarrassment, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Listen, I'm sorry about that. I know we didn't talk about it at all after that evening, but I didn't really think that her visit would take a turn in that direction."

"You asked her out on a date, not expecting either of you to make a move?"

"You're right," Jayce admitted, feeling too hot all of a sudden under Viktor's heavy gaze. "It did cross my mind. Once or twice. I just didn't think she'd be that into me, is all. She only wanted to check out our prototypes, and. And she mentioned funding the last time! Come on, V, have you seen her?" 

"I have," Viktor deadpanned. "I realize that her being... entirely out of your league, as you put it the last time, may be part of the reason why you failed to inform me of her visit. I would like you to be more considerate next time." It might have been his imagination, but Jayce was sure his voice dipped in disdain on the last two words. "Bringing an outsider to our testing grounds not only compromises the outcome of our experiments, it is also a breach in priva-...confidentiality. Consider the risk of her running around the Academy talking about our latest projects to anybody who might be willing to steal our ideas. Is that something you want to happen?"

There was more than a sliver of truth behind his words, which Jayce had to admit had struck a familiar guilt he had harbored ever since Viktor had seen him and Mel at the lab. It was only fair for him to be upset about it. He didn't know Mel like Jayce did, and the one occasion he had brought him along to meet her had ended rather catastrophically.
Jayce had tried asking himself how he would have reacted had he caught Viktor with a woman – or a man? – in the sanctity of their place of innovation. Would he have felt betrayed? Uncomfortable? Angry? Would he have lashed out at him? Viktor had steadfastly ignored any talk of transgressions that Jayce himself had tried to awkwardly initiate. Were it not for his words, Jayce would have succeeded in telling himself that it wasn't a big deal at all. 
Picturing Viktor sneaking a partner, or rather a partner that wasn't him, into their sacred space ignited a spark of something akin to rage in him that he tried to push out of his mind as soon as he realized that it felt more familiar to something he really didn't want to think about. So you’re not in love with Viktor? Something to stew over later, better to file it away for the moment.

Truly, what had he been thinking? Viktor was reasonably upset with him. That didn't mean he appreciated the accusations towards Mel's character but it was understandable and warranted. Jayce vowed to keep a firm line between his private life and the parts of it that he shared with Viktor in the future. He felt like a boy being chastised while having no way to defend himself. 

"No, of course not," he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He was sure he looked flushed. "You have to know, Mel isn't like that. She wouldn't tell anyone. But you're right, it was super unprofessional of me. I guess I got carried away because it had been so long-"

Viktor cleared his throat, averting his eyes. Jayce watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He blinked rapidly.

"Regardless!" 
He jumped up from his slouch at the tableside and began to pace. "I swear to you I'll never repeat something like that! So don't worry that I'll put you in an uncomfortable spot. If I do, feel free to, uh, hit me with your cane."
He deftly picked up the walking aid that Viktor had left leaning against one of the shelves while he was occupying the table. Miming himself receiving a little kick with it against his ankle, he playfully feigned injury and collapsed against the wall with a grin on his face. 

"I might take you up on that offer," Viktor warned jokingly, but the cloud of bitter emotion around his head seemed to have cleared up, if not entirely dissipated. Jayce immediately felt more at ease and carefully placed the cane in its original spot. "There's, as you know, still the issue of our experiment, though. If we leave the plants unattended for too long, there's no way for us to track their adaption. I'll have to ask Sky if she can help me look after them but I'll still need your input every couple of days."

"Shit, V, the more I think about it, the more I want to just stay and take care of it myself," Jayce laughed. "I don't think I could forgive myself if I wasn't there for the final breakthrough."
There was a thought he had, that had wormed itself under his skin. A way to combine his drive for results and his guilt at neglecting his familial duties. It was entirely ludicrous. It might just work if he didn't think too much about it. 
"What if instead of you keeping me updated while I have to watch paint dry up north, you accompany me?"

He felt queasy the instant he spoke his idea out loud. 
The notion of Viktor packing his bags and coming to spend the summer with him and his mother in their solitary mountain cabin was laughable. It didn't seem feasible even without the anxiety-inducing matter of transporting their experiments in one piece. 
Not to mention, Viktor was the least sociable person he could think of.
Having to talk to a woman twice his age who, as Jayce knew her, would be far too involved in his life, was probably Viktor's personal nightmare. And he hadn't even considered that maybe him being there to lend him his support wasn't as much of an incentive to join them as he had wished for. Maybe Viktor would be glad to be rid of him for a month, getting to focus on his experiments in much-appreciated solitude. 
Besides Caitlyn, and presumably Mel, Viktor was the closest friend Jayce had. He had no trouble admitting to himself that their bond mattered to him in ways his other friendships did not. Viktor was his equal, the person who understood him most and who he prided himself on understanding best in return. For him, spending time with Viktor never got tiring. 
Perhaps it was part of the reason Mel had gotten the wrong impression upon observing them interact. She wasn't the first person to make that call. They had gotten the occasional snide comment about their closeness ever since their public appearance together at the competition. Crude remarks didn't bother him too much.
What bothered him was not knowing what his partner thought of their friendship, especially as he had been the one to unceremoniously invite him along. 

Viktor looked taken aback, staying silent longer than Jayce was comfortable with.

"I just mean," he blurted, "wouldn't it be easier for us to work together if we took some of the samples and left the rest here for Sky? Calling seems tedious in comparison. We also haven't brought the plants up to higher altitudes like the mountains, so this would be like a trial run to see how they react to it. Besides, we do need a change of scenery. Don't you agree that it would be. Nice?"

"Nice," Viktor repeated, still staring at him guardedly. 

"Only if you're up for it," Jayce said, suddenly defensive. He tried his best not to feel rejected, reminding himself of the oddity of his request. Still, it stung a bit. "Otherwise we can do status reports like you described them. I'm afraid I'll be bored out of my mind so I'll probably call you just to check on the weather or something."

"You'd want me to spend time with you, at your family vacation, so we can work on our project while your mother and your girlfriend try to convince you to take some time off. Which is the entire purpose of your stay."

"You don't have to say it so negatively," Jayce frowned. "Mom will understand. She's probably already over the moon at having me there for dinner. It'll be the perfect mix of relaxation and productivity. And uh..." He hesitated. "Mel's not coming. It'll just be the two of us, like old times."

Although he didn't appear less incredulous, there was a sudden movement as Viktor motioned for his cane. Jayce handed it to him without having to look out of reflex. 
His partner groaned like a kettle letting out steam while standing up and stretching out his legs. Absentmindedly, Jayce thought that the new one he had made suited him much better. He looked taller, less hunched. This way, they were almost at eye level. 

"This is by far the most ridiculous proposal I have heard from you," Viktor stated, unapologetic. He made his way over to the desk and reached for a pen and paper. "I'll have you know that transporting a highly volatile batch of plants up a mountain is not the walk in the park you think it will be. Prepare to lose at least one as a result of you dropping it."

"Why me specifically?" Jayce chuckled, mock offence on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to act insulted when Viktor entertained the notion of going through with his plans. Something warm curled in his chest. "Your leg seems like a far more likely culprit."

"I know how to watch my step, thank you." His partner sounded distracted, writing something down on the sheet. His back was turned but Jayce could've sworn he heard a hint of a smile in his voice. "The altitude change sounds like an intriguing path of thought. If we can get the plants to be resilient towards any sort of low or high air pressure, we can modify them to grow in the deepest parts of the mines as well as the highest regions." He sniffed, taking a step back. "For the record, the only one who has grown bored of the lab is you. I very much do not need a change of scenery, as you call it."

"Yeah, sure." Jayce couldn't contain the grin threatening to take over his face. "You'll be relieved to know that my old room is a miniature lab that sort of looks like this one. I haven't been there in a while but we still have some basic equipment that we can use." 

At his insistence, Viktor shook his head, snorting inelegantly. "What a blessing. I fear I won't be able to make it the entire four weeks, so you'll have to expect me to take my leave sometime after the third. There's something Heimerdinger needs my assistance with in preparation for the upcoming semester. Maybe you can use the extra time to study. It's your last year at the Academy, Jayce. Don't get too distracted."
There was a strange edge to his voice that suggested he wasn't solely talking about slacking off on academics. 

"I'll keep my head on straight, don't worry," Jayce obliged, huffing. "You can keep track of me the entire time you're there."

"I expect nothing less. Now, you said we're leaving on Saturday?"

Telling his mother that No, he wasn't bringing his girlfriend, she couldn't make it and Yes, instead he was taking his grumpy lab partner who had always declined her dinner invitations wasn't one conversation Jayce was particularly excited about.
Thankfully, his mother took the news in stride and told him without much fuss that Viktor could take the spare room that had been his father's. 

"Is there anything we can get him to make his stay more comfortable? You told me he has to use a walking aid? And he's a scientist, like you. Surely he doesn't get enough sleep. I'll make sure to change the bedding and get him some strong tea that helps with insomnia. Don't give me that look, Jayce, I know you're up until four every morning." 

"It'll be fine, mom, he isn't picky," Jayce reassured her, ignoring the feeling in his gut that fluttered in anticipation. "He likes sweets."

Preparations were made in advance by an assistant of the family and so Saturday morning rolled around. Jayce made his way across town to collect his partner at his apartment. During their year of friendship, Viktor had never made an attempt to invite him over so he felt vaguely out of place knocking on his door. 
The area was quaint and unassuming. Viktor had probably chosen it out of proximity to the Academy. 

There was a rustling noise before the door creaked open and Viktor emerged, bag slung over his shoulder. His coat was unbuttoned and his hair had a cowlick on one side that he hadn't attempted to tame this early in the morning. 

"Ready to grab our stuff?" Jayce asked, heart pounding for no good reason. 

"Let's get on with it so I can have coffee on the way," Viktor rasped, voice deep in that way it got whenever he had overslept and just woken up. 

They had their driver stop just outside of their lab and help them bring down the samples they had chosen for the trip in big padded boxes that had a glass panel on top to allow sunlight into the container. 
Nestled in between the miniature greenhouses on the back seat, Jayce found himself sitting close enough to Viktor to feel the warmth of his thigh as the car shook over the cobblestone.

The material of his overcoat was coarse and scratchy and his hands were balled into fists in his lap, eyes firmly closed.
Jayce felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He tolerated physical touch but never initiated unless absolutely necessary. For his comfort, they stayed silent and amicably ignored the other for the longest part of the ride. 

It was only when the sun had reached its peak high up in the sky and the peaks of the mountains became visible in the distance that Viktor jolted. He had a look of involuntary wonder on his face, firmly transfixed on a point in the distance. 
Jayce followed his gaze and only found trees and shrubbery, the occasional rock and the barren snow-covered tops above the treeline whenever he threw a questioning glance out of the window. 

Viktor mumbled something unintelligible next to him and he raised an eyebrow. 

The other man seemed to notice his curiosity and to Jayce's amazement, flushed soft pink, huffing a little in indignation. It was a pretty color on his pale skin, Jayce thought, and surprised himself with his observation. 

"I didn't realize they were so tall," he repeated, quietly. 

It was his first time seeing the mountains. Viktor had never stepped foot out of the city before. 

Not sure what to make of the feeling that threatened to burst his chest, Jayce shrugged. "You'll be sick of seeing them on the second day."

His partner hummed, unconvinced.

They unloaded their belongings as soon as their driver had stopped in front of the cabin, a moderately sized summer home with wooden paneling and gables that faced the front. 
Jayce carefully carried each plant in its glass encasing to his childhood bedroom turned maskeshift laboratory and checked on its condition before helping Viktor with his luggage. 

He would be staying across the hall from Jayce, which was somehow a comforting thought. 

"Hey, take some time to look around the house," he told him, feeling somewhat naked under his scrutiny of the place. It wasn't like Jayce was still living here. When he was a child, they had spent long summers and some winters in the mountains while his fathers talked to local artisans and established business relations. 
After his death, they hadn't frequented the place quite as regularly as before. Jayce still held some fond memories of evenings in front of the fireplace, his mother humming softly while brushing his hair. Part of him had stayed here, young and idealistic. He was afraid Viktor could sense it, somehow. 

He retreated to his own bedroom, a simple space with only one single four poster bed, a desk and a bookshelve heavily laden with old magazines, novels and drawing supplies. 
There was a drawing partially hidden by the bedframe that he had gotten in trouble over as a boy. A wizard in long robes, conjuring up little yellow stars with his magic staff. Something he had seen in a dream that he had convinced himself was real at the time. He smiled, memories welling up unbidden. 

Ximena was bound to arrive later in the afternoon so he had time to call Mel before her next lecture. 
Hearing her answer the call in the professional tone that she used in all of her debates made him huff a laugh.

Her training was going well, she told him. Her mother had recommended a teacher who was well versed in the arts of political machinations. She hesitated a little, brushing past the topic of her family and her lessons in a hurry that implied she didn't feel like discussing it with him. 

Instead, she asked him about his stay at the cabin. Had he arrived yet? What was the weather like up north? Did he really plan on spending an entire month reading books and taking well-measured walks around the terrain?

"I have Viktor here to keep me company, and we're testing a hypothesis on one of our experiments, so I doubt it'll bore me to death," he laughed. There was a brief silence on the other end of the line and he heard an intake of breath.

"You brought Viktor along?"

"It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision," he clarified, suddenly self-conscious. "It's just easier working this way, with him here."

He was sure he didn't imagine a sigh this time around. "And so he agreed to spend an entire month with just you and your mother? Excuse my skepticism but from what you've told me, he doesn't sound like the type who finds joy in nature and conversations that don't concern his work."

"He was pretty receptive to the idea. You don't know him well enough," Jayce said, wincing at the way it came out. He had simply meant to defend his partner, make him seem more three-dimensional than whatever version of a lab-bound hermit Mel was envisioning.

"You're right. I don't," Mel said shortly. "And I guess I won't for another month. Do make sure to give him my regards."

Somehow he had managed to give her the wrong impression, yet again. 
He knew it sounded strange to an outsider. His girlfriend was otherwise occupied, so he invited his lab partner. Mel already had her preconceived ideas about their relationship and he was finding it increasingly harder to convince her of the opposite.

Every time he brought Viktor up in casual conversation, it was like she was just waiting for him to expose himself. There seemed to be something that had set her on the wrong trail and he was clueless on how to fix it.

Their conversation was stilted and brief from that point on and Jayce winced after Mel had hung up on him with a quick excuse of having to finish her coursework.

Stepping back out into the hallway, he found Viktor sitting in an armchair near the window, a book propped up on his knees.

His eyes were roving over the lines and he seemed engrossed in it. Moving closer quietly, Jayce could make out the title on the cover page. The Legend of Janna – Urban Myths.  He must have brought it himself, as Jayce had no recollection of ever owning such a book. He hadn't guessed Viktor to be a fiction reader. 

Illuminated by the warm light filtering in through the curtains, the sharp lines and angles of Viktor's face seemed to blur. In front of his eyes, his lab partner transformed into someone younger, softer even. 
It was all he could do to not stare at him slack-jawed. 

"Jayce?" Viktor asked, lifting his gaze from the book at cocking his head. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Stretching out a hand to him, Jayce shook his head, smiling. "Nothing important, V. Let's get to work."

Chapter Text

On their second vacation day, they feverishly worked on expanding their thesis, leaving diagrams and blueprints strewn across every surface like the lab had survived a minor explosion of papers. Viktor modified their growth chambers, tinkering with the mechanics in a way that would decrease the amount of UV radiation introduced in a controlled manner. Jayce watched him between breaks, observing the way his spine curled like that of a cat as he bent over the apparition.

On the third day, Jayce helped him rebox a batch of their most resilient strain yet. They set up a provisional station a few hundred meters above cabin grounds that they would routinely visit to check up on any changes. The short hike wasn't easy on Viktor, who trailed behind him, stopping every once in a while to take a look at the valley, river and forestlands only beginning to reappear below the early morning fog with the dawn of day. Viktor didn't ask him for breaks even when his breath came out in irregular huffs, so Jayce complained of tired arms or pebbles in his shoes that needed intervention before they could continue on their way. 

On the fourth day, they went over old logs and discarded ideas. By the time they had dutifully sorted every sketch and blueprint into future projects or food for the shredder, the three box files they had brought were bursting with documents and they had downed more jugs of coffee than they could count between the two of them. By late evening, Jayce had finally worked up the courage to call Mel. Their conversation was significantly more harmonious than the last time, and although his daily thoughts had singlemindedly circled his inventions, he missed her fiercely as soon as he heard her voice. Ever the more observant one, she quickly caught on to his state of delirium and told him to call back once he had slept for more than a handful of hours. 

On the fifth day, Viktor's back made small cracking noises whenever he sat up. They had barreled through the night on willpower alone, wracking their brains over a substitute for a stronger power source. Viktor had chosen a bionic arm as his next project and encouraged Jayce to help him build it for his final presentation at the end of the coming year. That put the deadline at a closer date than they had ever worked with but Viktor was confident that a small breakthrough was all they needed. Jayce headed up the mountain path at daybreak to check up on their plants and when returned, Viktor was fast asleep on the table, fingers curled around his pen. Just like the day they arrived, his features were softer in a way that made Jayce feel like he was intruding. 

On the sixth day, Ximena had taken one look at their run down appearance and evidently reached the end of her patience. At her insistence, they were banned from the lab for the rest of the week.

They were to enjoy their vacation like other perfectly normal young men would.

Jayce wasn't entirely sure what that encompassed in his mother's eyes and almost certain that Viktor was none the wiser. Neither of them fit the criteria of perfectly normal. 

In the ensuing lack of activities that they could occupy their time with, they lingered around the cabin, doing more harm than good helping out with the dishes and other cleaning. As a result of sharing one workspace for nearly two years, Jayce had come to the conclusion that Viktor was somewhat more of a clean freak than he was.
He preferred their tools to be organized, cleaned and put away after every use and he often issued half-hearted complaints about the state of the floor whenever Jayce had left it covered in leftover scraps of material. 

Unfortunately, even Viktor's tidier tendencies were no match for his mother's rigid standards of spotlessness. 
He tried his best to lend a helping hand with sweeping the cabinets which visibly made her break out in a cold sweat as he precariously swayed on top of the ladder, bad leg wobbling like it would give out under his weight at any second.

Jayce had to bite back a laugh as she gently took the feather duster from him and patted him on the shoulder.
His mother's concern was written plainly in the furrow of her brow as she ushered them out of the room, stopping Jayce by his shoulder and waving Viktor along with a placating smile until he was safely out of earshot. 

In an instant, she smacked Jayce on the arm, chiding him for his carelessness. 

"I'm at my wit's end with you two," she hissed. "That boy is a danger to himself even when he isn't trying to be helpful! Had I been given any warning about the severity of his condition, I could've prepared the house to be more accommodating, but my own son failed to inform me!"

Rubbing his elbow, Jayce sighed and shook his head. "Viktor can handle a bit of dusting, mom. He's not getting any worse so you don't have to treat him like he is a child. I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Still," his mother whispered, fingers clenched around the seam of her blouse. 

She cast a nervous glance down the hallway, where the door to Viktor's bedroom leaned halfway open. 

Grasping Jayce's hand in her warmer ones, she gave it a weak squeeze. "You work so tirelessly that I barely see you all day. Why can you not unwind and enjoy your summer with him here? Explore the area and come back for dinner? I thought bringing him along would convince you to relax more, but it's like you share the same mind."

Jayce stared at his feet, shifting his weight from one side to the other. In all honesty, he had brought Viktor here to work. He had also seen his posture grow increasingly hunched each day and caught him dozing when he thought Jayce wasn't paying attention. There probably was some benefit to lowering their productivity. 

"I've never. It's not a thing we do, is all," he confessed, clearing his throat. "Hanging out, I mean. We're partners in the lab and what we do outside of that usually revolves around our studies in one way or the other."

Releasing the hold on his hands, Jayce blinked in surprise at his mother's caress. Her eyes crinkled as she lightly squeezed his cheek, chuckling at his indignation. "Oh, my boy. It's really not as scary as you think."

"I'm not scared-" Jayce squawked, flushing with embarrassment. "I'm not. We get along fine. I don't want to bore him or force him to spend time with me if he'd rather do something else."

There was much he didn't know about his partner. He had truly known Mel for less than a year but he knew her favorite color was purple, whereas he could only take a guess at Viktor's. Somehow, he had never thought to ask.

Their private lives seemed inconsequential in comparison to their shared dream, and they worked together like a well-oiled machine. Why complicate it? There wasn't any insecurity on his part regarding the depth of their friendship. He trusted Viktor fully. He felt like he had a clear, or at the very least more-than-surface-level understanding of his personality. They simply didn't talk about their lives or interests beyond the occasional slip or anecdote Jayce allowed himself. 

Distantly, he wondered if Viktor ever felt curious. It was what friends were supposed to do, he was sure. And friends... That's what they were, though he had never quite felt like the title accurately described their relationship. Partners, that was more like it.

He felt like a child under his mother's unreadable gaze. There was something vulnerable about being read by her like an open book. He had never been good at concealing his emotions.  

At last, she leaned in closer, hand to his ear.

"If you'll allow me to give you my opinion," she whispered conspiratorily. "I don't believe he is the sort who would've agreed to be here if he didn't want to be."

He recalled something similar Mel had told him the first evening. That Viktor didn't seem like the type who would eagerly spend time with other people in an environment he wasn't familiar with. 

Another point was that, rudeness aside, nothing was truly keeping Viktor at the cabin. After they had finished their initial experiments, he could've packed up and returned to the city instead of doing nothing in the meantime. 
That he had chosen to stay must have meant something. 

With plenty of time on their hands for the moment, Jayce thought of crossing that line. Finding out what the other man was thinking. It was a novel feeling that left him both anxious and itching to talk to him. 

Despite his mother's encouragement, they were consequently banned from the kitchen save for their meals.

Of the few things that remained for them to do free of scolding, going up the mountain became somewhat of a habit. 

The fresh air alleviated the pain in his chest, Viktor explained one day out of the blue, spread out on his back.

His illness had accompanied him for years, a silent companion from days of faulty air filtration down in the fissures. He had grown up at the turn of the century, one of the last to have known the undercity as it had been for generations – a dark, shabby labyrinth of forgotten tunnels and crowded lanes that had gone ignored by the council until the war had forced them to face its true responsibility. It had taken them decades to implement real change, open the Academy to those who would've never stood a chance of even taking the admittance exams. Viktor avoided the question of why he hadn't taken the test and Jayce didn't push. 
The undercity was still a part of Piltover he rarely frequented and it must have been unimaginable for a child. Hard enough to leave a permanent reminder, although Viktor's condition wasn't life-threatening with the help of modern medicine. He would never fully recover. 

"I used to think the towers of the sea gates were the highest place in the whole world," his partner admitted, reaching one hand towards the cloudless sky. That was their new thing: Viktor would tell him something about himself and Jayce would tell him two things in return. 

A falcon circled high above them, wings still in the breeze. Jayce sneezed, grass tickling his nose.

His legs rested carelessly over Viktor's, thighs touching. His hair billowed with every gust of wind. It was getting longer, harder to maintain. He'd ask his mother if she could cut it for him upon their return. 

Scrunching his nose, he hummed in thought, contemplating. "I spent more time in the mountains as a child than in our real home. At least, that's what it felt like. The summers were endless. My dad would take me up here at least once a day and we'd try to spot an eagle."

He remembered those days with a fondness that almost hurt. 
His father had been a busy man, but on those rare mornings he'd take for the two of them, it felt like they were the only people who existed. 

"Mmh," Viktor said, not a full answer but a sound of acknowledgment. "Did you? Spot one."

Jayce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. The sunlight was warm on his face. 
The days would soon get longer and the mornings colder as fall painted the valley in hues of gold and red. It was the beginning of their second week. They would be allowed back in the lab soon once they could convince his mother that they wouldn't spend all night in a discovery-driven frenzy again. 

"One time. Thing was huge. I heard they used them as messenger birds and for hunting in Noxus."

He yawned, turning his head. A blade of grass had snuck its way behind Viktor's ear, like a strand of green hair. 
A few days ago, on one of their first longer trips, a ladybug had landed on his cheek. He had confused it for another one of his beauty marks at first. Seeing Viktor, in nature, he decided, was odd. 

"I'll have to ask Mel when we get back," Jayce said and then, laughing, "Can you imagine her with one? Having a giant bird deliver her correspondence for her?"

Viktor snorted rather inelegantly. "She's already plenty terrifying from what I've heard."

She'd say the same about you, Jayce didn't argue. It was a thought he'd had and voiced, on that first day. The two most important people in his life, minus his mother and Caitlyn, were similar in ways he wasn't sure he could ever tell them. 
Why they hadn't immediately latched onto one another puzzled him as much as it was clear to him that Mel, in her expensive tailored gowns and her ambition for politics, and Viktor, a self proclaimed vessel for all the unsolved questions in the universe, were living in entirely different worlds. 

Lately though, the lines were beginning to blur in his head and it confused him. Where Mel ended, the line seamlessly transitioned to Viktor. Sometimes it was like they were occupying the same space in his mind, bound by the same thread. 

He was sure he would choke on his own words if he ever attempted to speak them out loud.

The blade of grass had untangled itself from Viktor's hair and now swayed in the breeze. It must have tickled.  Jayce watched him, strangely transfixed, as he lifted one hand to his neck, moving it higher to brush the shell of his ear. 
He forced his eyes away, acutely aware of all the places their bodies touched, casually entangled. It's what friends did, he thought. 

The falcon was gone the next time he looked for it. 

"I've never been anywhere outside of Piltover and the mountains," he said. 

Viktor hummed, the same short sound. "Neither have I."

Over dinner, Ximena reluctantly agreed to let them use the lab during the morning. 
It was a compromise Jayce was more than willing to make, mind already teeming with ideas. Their short break hadn't stunted their research as he had feared. If anything, he felt invigorated. 

Across the table, Viktor appeared to be deep in thought, which meant he was already drawing up plans and calculations in his head. 
His brow knit in concentration as he let the tip of his spoon rest against his bottom lip.

"How are you liking the mountains so far?" Ximena asked and Jayce gave his partner a small nudge with his knee under the table. 

Breaking out of his reverie, Viktor gave her a mellow smile. 
His spoon clinked against the plate as he set it down. 

"I am enjoying my stay," he said simply. Jayce bit back a laugh at his mother's obvious disappointment. 
Not entirely unaware of his social misconduct, he took a short moment to add, "The view of the valley from above is beautiful. And the air is... fresh."

Beaming, and as if unable to stop herself, his mother reached out one hand to touch his shoulder. Viktor had the grace not to stiffen at the contact, but his eyes flitted uncertainly to meet Jayce's. 
Giving him his best reassuring smile, he nodded and busied himself with the last of his plate. Averting his eyes, he heard his mother attempt to needle the other man for more information. Had he ever gone on vacation outside the city? Was this room up to his standards, the bed not too uncomfortable? Did they ever take breaks back at their real lab?
Leaving Viktor to his own devices was perhaps a little mean-spirited, but part of him soaked up the feeling of warmth he got from seeing him interact with his only living family. 

The feeling of rightness, like Viktor belonged at their table, must have meant that they were finally growing closer. 

It must have been why Jayce found it hard to suppress the smile fighting to take over his face long after dinner had passed. 

Chapter Text

Mel returned to the Academy one week earlier than most students.

She had spent the better part of her break with her nose buried in history books, memorizing family trees and practicing her most winning smile in front of the mirror. 
She was a top student in her field, not a single day of absence to her name. Her mentors had written glowing letters of recommendation attesting to her character and initiative without much prompting. Her spot on the council was practically guaranteed if she played her cards right for another few years.
In every sense, she was on top of her game. 

One of the base rules of success stated that influence required maintenance. 
If she wanted a place among the powerful and wealthy, she would have to make herself known. What's more, she needed to know every name and face with even a smidgen of importance – and she had to be the first in line to greet them. 

Welcoming the new students who'd come from abroad was a tedious but necessary form of practice. 
The choice of student representative had been between her and Jayce, but with the poster boy absent, she was an easy second pick.
Mel didn't concern herself with the obvious bias towards her boyfriend. She was no great scientist although she had an interest in funding new inventions, seeing progress as the quickest way to advance her standing. The Academy had been founded on the basis of innovation, cherishing the noble pursuit of science above all else.
Her strength lay in her words, and in her uncanny ability to let people hear exactly what they wanted to hear. 

She had practiced her opening speech a number of times, going over the most important points in her head. 
After a quick introductory welcome, she would introduce the Academy's dean and teachers, giving the new arrivals a brief overview of the university's most prestigious alumnis and their legacies. Piltover was a rising nation with a weaker armed force than Noxus or Ionia but their achievements were widely acknowledged.  

Taking her place at the podium, she inclined her head in greeting, casting a sweeping glance over the group of several hundred waiting faces. 
Her voice was calm and hypnotic as she spoke. "Good morning to all of you who have traveled a long way. Today I have the honor of welcoming you to our esteemed institution."

Mentally, she made a note of any familiar figures in the audience. In the second row, behind the teachers, she could spot the daughter of a Demacian military general, then three rows down a nephew of an Ionian diplomat she had shared a dinner with some time ago. 
The room was a mix of generational wealth, future leaders and would-be inventors, as well as those who sat in on her speech with bored or anxious expressions on their faces. 

Zaunites. 

After the war, Heimerdinger had petitioned the council to make the Academy more accessible to the less privileged, lowering the cost of the entrance exams for aspirants from the undercity and drafting up a program that scouted for gifted minds in the poorest parts of town. Each year, about half a hundred applicants enrolled, most of them outstanding talents in their fields, while a few were taken in for good measure. They were the kind Mel rarely bothered to interact with. 
She was not a stranger to the prejudice they faced, albeit more tolerable than it had ever been for them in the years prior. When she became a councilor, she would work on dismantling the system of discrimination that still existed. She had been a stranger to Piltover once, too. 
For the time being, and much to her dismay, she had to heed her mother's advice. Surround herself with people who already had a standing. Further her influence by taking it from those who offered it. She could afford to care once she had accomplished her goal. 

"In Piltover, we uphold the noble pursuit of progress as our guiding creed. As you become part of this school —home to some of Runeterra’s most accomplished inventors —you join a legacy of discovery and innovation that continues to shape the course of history."

Mel delivered the rest of her address smoothly, praising every prestigious invention that had ever come into being, all thanks to the guidance of the oh-so-great Professor Heimerdinger. 
The dean sat front row, nodding along like a director conducting a performance. He had probably heard it in one and the same way for several decades. 

Raising her hands as if in reverence, Mel added the finishing touch.

"- and we offer our sincere gratitude to all of you, who have chosen to enrich this vibrant community, where we promise to nurture your potential, challenge your intellect and strengthen your future!"

The ensuing applause was thunderous and Mel smiled in polite achievement. 
As she exited the stage, she was already making a list of who to approach first once the dean had made his usual congratulatory remarks and reminders about adhering to their core values, which were, in truth, veiled admonitions to everyone to be civil. 

Taking a steadying breath behind the curtain, Mel slipped into a well-practiced expression of amiability.

As if drawn to her by a magnet, people flocked to her as soon as she stepped out into the crowd.
She exchanged pleasantries as she went, making small promises that would win her favors in return.
What an informative speech it had been, and yes she was in the last year of her studies. Of course she would attend the annual charity gala, when had she not?
She'd be positively overjoyed to give a private tour of Piltover's shopping district, and she was certainly the right person to ask, as nobody knew the merchants quite as well as her.
And what a gracious offer it was to recommend her to their head of company, after her internship ended she would make sure to get in touch. 

Gradually, the troupe of new arrivals thinned around her, satisfied with having made their connections with one of the Academy's top representatives, and a Medarda on top of that. 
The buffet had started. Most Zaunites had already abandoned their seats in favor of filling their plates at the far end of the auditorium, the rest of the attendees not far behind. 

For her part, Mel had no great appetite for another round of shallow conversation. Heimerdinger looked to be deep in discussion with another teacher and she decided that it was no use sticking around after her duties had been fulfilled, not when there was much work left to be done at her apartment in preparation for the semester. 

As she was elegantly weaving her way through throngs of idly chattering foreign students, a small hand on her arm stopped her.

A surprised look back revealed it belonged to a girl a couple of years younger than Mel, an unassuming face with a kind smile. 

"Um, hello," she said quietly, "I didn't mean to startle you. It looked like you were leaving, so I thought I would take my chance."

Turning around, Mel shook her hand in greeting. "Then I'm glad you found me at the right time. I'm ashamed I didn't introduce myself properly, though perhaps you've already gathered who I am from the address earlier?"

The girl blushed, fiddling with her sleeves.

"There's no need. We actually met a few years ago. I'm Briseis of House Petros." 

Something lit up in Mel's mind at the mention of her house. She had been a young girl, barely older than thirteen. Her mother had taken her to visit the estate of an influential Noxian merchant to observe the forging of a deal between them. Her mother had offered the merchant protection in exchange for a shipment of supplies and weapons. She dimly remembered wandering the halls all afternoon while her mother was busy drawing up a contract, stumbling upon another child playing in the garden. 

Wincing inwardly, Mel bowed her head in apology. "Please excuse my forgetfulness. I remember you now. It's a happy coincidence that we enrolled at the same university, wouldn't you agree?"

Briseis beamed. "When I recognized you on stage, I couldn't believe it at first! It's been such a long time, but I knew I had to speak to you at least once. Your mother greatly helped my family all those years ago, and I am certain I wouldn't be standing here today had it not been for her support. We're forever indebted to your family."

Keeping a cordial front, Mel felt a shiver of unease begin to form at the back of her spine. 
She hadn't planned to interact with anyone who personally knew her mother. 

"As is the House Medarda," she replied. "I can recall your supplies being of great value to our mission. Excellent craftsmanship. I assume your father has been quite successful producing such high quality items?"

They were weapons, without the sugarcoating. To her knowledge, House Petros had gone on to be renowned for their tactical equipment, especially their highly advanced firearms. 
Both of them were more than aware of the specifics of their arrangement. Despite it all, Mel couldn't bring herself to discuss matters of warfare on peaceful Academy grounds. It was a part of herself she had left behind when she set course for Piltover. 

"Demand was high, for a while," Briseis answered, a shadow passing over her face. "My father tried to help where he could. He fell ill about two years ago, and business was handed to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mel replied earnestly. She couldn't picture the small woman in front of her as the sole head of her family's company. The last time she had seen her, the girl had still been a cherub-faced toddler. "I'm sure it hasn't been easy on you."

As if resigned, the other Noxian shook her head. 

"It was a difficult decision, choosing what I wanted to do. My father had taught me all there was to know and he fully expected me to take after him, but somehow it never felt right. I've never wanted to participate in any of... that." 

She locked eyes with Mel and suddenly the spark returned to her gaze. "One day, I just had this thought. I had spent my entire life doing things out of obligation and suddenly it dawned on me that I hadn't even thought about what I wanted. For so long, it hadn't seemed like a possibility, and I couldn't figure out why. From then on, I tried to be true to myself, follow my dreams. It's how I landed here, all the way across the ocean."

Embarassed, she added, " When I saw you, I thought you might understand. What it's like to leave everything behind, I mean. In Noxus, they said your mother-"

"My mother is far too busy protecting the country to concern herself with everything her daughter does," Mel interjected rather harshly. Her outburst wasn't what her teachers would call a show of discipline. Talk of the home she hadn't visited in nearly a decade and assumptions about her motivations for settling in Piltover had put her in a foul mood.

Briseis blinked, immediately backpedaling upon sensing a shift in Mel's demeanor. "Of course! I meant no disrespect, I only- It was nice seeing a familiar face, is all!"

She hadn't meant her any harm, Mel knew.
She was merely a girl who had projected her own naive feelings onto her as a result of misplaced comradery. At her age, Mel had thought herself somewhat of a rebel, too. Insight was something only age had taught her. 

Placing a comforting hand on the young woman's shoulder, she chuckled. "At ease. No offense was taken. It's a blessing that you have found a path that inspires you, and I have no doubt the Academy will serve you well. I hope to see you around in the coming days."

Briseis' stutter of agreement lingered in the air between them as Mel excused herself, trying her best not to run from the room.

There was no reason for her to dwell on what was said. No reason for her heart to still beat in her chest after she had heard the doors close behind her.

Jayce returned the day before the semester was due to start.

Naturally, he told her to wait for him at the lab as he still had to load off some of his experiments. 

She arrived a little earlier than they had agreed on, having half a mind not to linger around outside doing nothing like she was desperately awaiting his arrival. Instead, she busied herself with her new schedule, going over the curriculum on her phone, and as a result almost bumped into Viktor as he opened the door behind her. It was the second time it had happened. 

Mel's summer had been a blissful reprieve from having to acknowledge his existence. Not that he had made it any easier for her. She still wasn't sure how to approach the topic of their shared vacation with Jayce without triggering his defenses. 

Nodding politely, she stepped aside to let him stagger his way past her. 
The less she had to talk with him, the better her day would turn out. 

Jayce's lab partner gave her an aloof look that failed to conceal any disdain he had for her, returning her nod shortly. The clacking of his cane was soon followed by footsteps as Jayce emerged from the doorway behind him, almost jumping when he spotted her off to the side. 

"Mel!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around her to envelop her in a nearly crushing embrace. 

She breathed in his scent, arms coming up to rest on his shoulders. He was warm and firm against her chest. "You're back early."

Drawing back, Jayce grinned. "We arrived in the morning and Viktor helped me transport our plants back to the lab. There's so much we have to test out, and we still have to talk to Professor Heimerdinger about my end of year project."

He was giddy, nearly shaking with excitement. His eyes were blown wide as he talked about his experiments.

"I have to keep it under wraps until he gives us his permission to work on it, but Viktor's concept is the most impressive thing I've seen in my entire life! I really think we could change lives with this."

Extracting herself from his arms, Mel gave him a questioning look. "When will you find the time to work on all these things? The semester starts tomorrow, Jayce. Surely it would be wiser to postpone this endeavor until you have been given your other assignments."

"We will need the entire year, start to finish, to work on this project," Jayce said, apologetic. "Even with that much time, it'll be a close call but I believe it's entirely worth the risk."

"More time you'll spend at the lab then," Mel stated and fought back a sigh. It was just like Jayce to end his vacation with more work on his hands than he had started it with. 

Sensing her exasperation, Jayce nuzzled her ear and pressed a small kiss to the side of her neck. It tickled.

"This is important to me," he murmured, breath hot against her skin. He smelled like cinnamon and freshly mown grass. 
Mel melted a little against him.

She had kept herself busy during his absence, neatly arranging meetings, lessons or social events to fill every page of her calendar. Elora had stopped casting her worried glances after she had survived the first two weeks in a blur of activity and showed no sign of fatigue.

Slowing down wasn't her style.

It had been better than the alternative of wasting away in bed, having nobody to fill the vacant space next to her. It had been better than to think about the past. 

Still, she had looked forward to her nightly conversations with Jayce, even when he had been too tired to truly register what she was saying. 
The thought of having to share him for a whole month had awakened a possessive side of her she hadn't been aware of. She had kept their talks brief as a way to give Jayce some much-needed time to rest, but also because she didn't want to hear another story about whatever brilliant discovery Viktor had come up with that day. 

Jayce didn't seem to notice how much he talked about the other man. 

"As long as you're not late for dinner," she said after a pause. 

Jayce stilled, the tiniest widening of his eyes enough indication to alert her. 

"Jayce," she began, slowly as if talking to a child. "Our dinner that has been scheduled for a week now. Don't tell me you forgot."

"Don't be mad!" 

He bit his lip and stared at her intently, eyes pleading. "I promise I'll be free next week!"

Sceptical, Mel raised both eyebrows.

"End of next week," he quietly acquiesced. 

He wasn't a very good distraction at all, Mel thought. But she was nothing if not self-sufficient. 
If Jayce Talis was too involved with his work to accompany her, she had no problem going alone. She wasn't the sort to wallow in self-pity and nobody in their right mind would take one look at her and think that she was a woman who had just been stood up. 

"I'm expecting you to stick to your word next time, Jayce."

She brushed past him, leaving him scrambling to keep up with her. 

Over his reassurances to write the date in his planner in bold red ink, she noticed Viktor giving them an odd look from up ahead. He had taken to waiting for Jayce at the bottom of the staircase, cane propped up against the banister. 

Suddenly more than a little irked, she came to a step in front of him, nearly scowling.

His unruly brows furrowed as his expression darkened. Mel was sure she had never met a more unpleasant person.

"Can't you walk home by yourself?" she asked out of lack of better questions. There was no reason for her to engage in conversation with him but there was an itch under her skin that needed scratching and this was just the way to do it. 

Cocking his head, Viktor assessed her as if he was contemplating even answering. His silence enraged her. It was like he had no idea of the world of difference between them. She wasn't a person he could ignore if he felt like it. 

"I'm not sure how that matters to you." 

Behind them, Jayce had clambered to a stop, hovering awkwardly over their heads from a few steps up. 

Leaning closer so he wouldn't hear her next words, she smiled sweetly at Viktor, resting a hand on his knee. 

"I'll tell you what I think is my business," she said, voice low enough so only he would understand. To Jayce, it must have looked like they were sharing a joke. 

"Your friendship is nothing I care to interfere in. But if you think for one second I'll turn a blind eye and let you cozy up with Jayce under my nose, think again. You can treat me like the dirt under your shoe all you want but he made his choice. You'll have to live with that."

Viktor's gaunt face gave away no emotion as he stared at her but their closeness revealed a slight flush that traveled up his neck. He didn't deny her accusations. That fact wasn't lost on her and it was enough to give her the satisfaction she had been looking for.

Laughing and patting his shoulder, she withdrew and smiled at Jayce, who returned the expression hesitantly. Seeing them so close when they had previously acted like the other was nothing more than air must have surprised him, but he appeared to get over his shock in a heartbeat. There was a happy curl to his mouth as he gestured between them, mouthing What's so funny? He had no idea. 

Viktor didn't move an inch, frozen in embarrassment or anger. 

She would have time to regret her decision later, when the rush of adrenaline wore off.

Mel was no stranger to being caught off guard when she had slipped up under her mother's watchful eye. She knew the hot sting of humiliation and the rushing of blood in her ears.

It had been an entirely unprovoked act of casual cruelty. She may have just irreparably damaged the fragile peace she had established with the man who would get to spend more time around her boyfriend than she would. He wouldn't forget her transgression. 

Nevertheless, she felt justified in confronting him as she waved Jayce goodbye and didn't spare Viktor another glance. There wasn't much love she had to spare for him, either, regardless of how he chose to react. It had felt freeing to speak her mind after weeks of dancing around each other.

Even she had her limits.

He could tell Jayce all about her bad attitude and unfounded provocation, but she strongly suspected he wouldn't. 
His secret was even more shameful than hers. 

Chapter Text

Mel kept herself busy with a flood of new assignments and tried her hardest not to think about much else.

Unsurprisingly, Jayce manged to worm his way into her carefully structured plans, and because spitefulness towards him seemed awfully immature, she allowed him into her routine with a warning not to make her regret her decision. 

Between classes, they took idle walks around their school's confines. They shared dinner at least once a week. Jayce was thorough in keeping space in his calendar for her, though she couldn't have said if it was out of a bad conscience for letting her down or an actual desire to have her by his side whenever he was not occupied with his newest project.
He didn't ask her to come back to the lab and she didn't push the matter. In turn, he smoothly changed the subject whenever they got too close to talking about her family or her ideas for the future. Basking in his attentiveness and quiet comfort felt steadying. She was content to wrap herself around his body and listen to his heartbeat with her head on his chest, letting it lull her into a sense of rightness and security with its ceaseless thumping. 

Time with Jayce was the only part of her week that was a constant. 

They were sharing hot drinks at a nearby cafe she liked when the afternoon sunlight illuminated one side of his face in a serene glow. All of a sudden, he looked more like a god than a man, more king than scientist. She was acutely aware of what everybody else saw in him, somebody who was beautiful, and confident in his abilities. A man who knew the answer to every question she could have asked him in that moment. She wasn't in love with him, that much was clear to her. She had no desire to be. Yet, watching him laugh at an offhand comment she had made, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his eyes shining with mirth, she realized she was in danger of falling for him, if given the time. 
The realization disoriented her and all at once, she hated him, too. Just a little bit. 

It was like the feeling of envy had gripped her and refused to let her go from then on. On one of their walks, she observed the withering of the trees and bushes around them, frost covering the ground. Fall had transformed the gardens into a picture of somber remembrance, nature seeming to mourn the lush livelihood of summer. 
Jayce had fallen into step with her, breath coming out in little puffs of cloudy air. His gloved hand held hers, large and solid through the thick woolen fabric. 
She hadn't slept nearly as much as she should have the previous nights. In a moment of delirium, she almost asked him. How do you cope with the expectations everybody has for you? How do you not buckle under the weight? What gives you the strength to be so immovable when so many try to claw and tear at you, hoping to bring you down? 

She bit her tongue and kept quiet for the remainder of their walk. Perhaps it was different for him. He had no name to live up to. All the good he did in his life would be accredited to him alone. Every moment of failure would serve as an incentive to keep trying.

As the days got shorter and the sun hid behind a grey cover of clouds, Mel caught herself trying to siphon off his warmth. 

Class turned into a drag of pointless debates littered with the same rehashed arguments each time. 

At every corner, so much needed to be done and without fail, there was much too little they could conceivably change to better the situation. 
Tearing the whole system down quickly became the most viable solution, but it wasn't a suggestion Mel could ever openly support in any of her discussions or papers. 

"True improvement requires time," Professor Heimerdinger was incessant to preach whenever somebody had the gall to offer up an alternative that wouldn't take them three generations to implement. "Part of what I advise you to take away is that being a politician requires patience. Much more than what is needed of an inventor. Where their testing may take them decades to perfect, your measures may be something that has to be carried out by your grandchildren. You may never see the fruit of your efforts, but you must not shy away from striving toward your goal."

For somebody who had lived longer than any of their ancestors, and who would far outlive them for at least hundreds of years, he sure made it sound more meaningful than the reality of their bleak prognosis. A human lifespan would never be enough to fix even the smallest of problems, if the professor was to be believed. 
According to him, that was something they had to be fulfilled with, finding appeasement in the knowledge that they had been the ones to put their hand to the plough.

"It's a terribly outdated notion," Mel complained to Elora after a particularly mindless lecture on state affairs. "We can never make more than two steps in the right direction before having to backtrack three more. The more I delve into Piltover's policies, the more I am convinced that they earned the title of 'city of progress' by a lucky chance. They are so frozen in their ways that they fail to see the opportunity that presents itself with even the tiniest bit of change. It makes me miss Noxus at times."

Gentle hands worked on undoing the solid golden clasps in her hair, setting them aside on the nightstand as Mel rested her head in Elora's lap, eyes fluttering closed. She felt bone deep exhaustion chipping away at her mind after weeks of failing to spot an opportunity for her to strike. It was like Piltover refused her ideas, solid as they were. She was running around in circles while her teachers indulgently commended her perseverance. 

"It sounds tiresome. What the city needs is a strong leader, someone they haven't had for many decades. I'm sure once you are on the council, you will make them see reason."

Mel had her doubts but no way to voice them. Elora regarded her with blind faith even as her own conviction in her diplomatic abilities waned. 
Besides, what she said was a half-truth. Her place on the council wouldn't change regardless of her beliefs, as long as she kept them to herself. All she had wanted and worked hard for, all her ambitions to rise and prosper within their ranks, hinged on her choice to wisely set aside whatever plans Piltover wasn't ready to see. 

"Undoubtedly," she sighed, tension between her shoulders not dissipating. "All in due time."

Elora hummed softly, none the wiser. 

Secretly, Mel wished for her mother's guidance. The thought was gone after a heartbeat, flashing across her mind. Her mother would know what to do. She would steer her in the right direction, turn her into an extension of herself as somebody she could follow blindly.  

Guilt crept up on her almost instantly, ever the silent reminder not to forget. 

Her mother would force her to scheme and manipulate even those closest to her if it meant having her way. She would stop at nothing to have her will made a reality. As true to the Medarda name as one could be, she would care little for the people she hurt in the process. 
She had cast Mel out because she had refused to obey. She was better off without a snake poisoning her conscience once more. 
Even if the snake was the one she had relied on in her direst of moments.

Feeling very small, Mel curled in on herself. There was no one on her side of the ocean that shared her burden.

Weariness crept up on her quietly as a shadow throughout the first cold days of the year. 

The persistent chill in the air made her breath fog as she hurried across the yard between lessons. There was a history paper she was behind on, and a dinner she had to partake in that would allow her to stay in a businesswoman's good graces for another month while she tirelessly worked on convincing her to vote in her favor once the time was right. 

The shortness of breath she experienced was easy enough to attribute to a simple cold, and she had no spare thoughts to waste on taking a break from her obligations as Elora hesitantly recommended upon seeing her shiver and cough while writing her notes. 

After another week of scrambling to keep an unaffected front while she raced from one important function to the next, Mel felt uncharacteristically worn to the bone. 

Jayce, who had dutifully picked her up from class as he always did, took one glance at her and diagnosed her with something unfathomable. 

"You're sick. Cancel your afternoon lessons, you're in no shape to go anywhere with a fever that high."

Mel had half a mind to tell him that he was no doctor and had no authority over her activities, but a rattling cough interrupted her in the middle of her argument. 
She had to give in and accept that a day or two at home would do wonders to boost her health. After which, she was free to continue on her merry way to world domination, as Jayce put it, who had dodged just in time to avoid her flick to the forehead. 

He accompanied her to her apartment and tucked her into bed like she was a child. 
Something in Mel wanted to shrivel up at the humiliation of having him witness her in such a pitiful state. Despite her embarrassment, she was largely grateful for his care, especially as he came to visit her the following afternoon with a small container of soup. 
As a child playing in the mountains where the air was colder than in the city, he had caught a cold frequently. His mother had taught him the recipe before he went to live on his own, and he swore up and down that it was a miracle helper. Even Viktor no longer protested to being spoon-fed the remedy whenever he had stayed in the icy cold of their lab for too long and woke up with a sore throat the next morning. 
Mel barely suppressed a groan as Jayce told her the story of finding his partner sneezing and coughing up a storm while he insisted on being allergic to something he couldn't identify. 
Her annoyance soon vanished after she had tried a spoonful of steaming chicken broth. There were things she and Viktor could agree on, as it seemed. 

After two days of studying with her head propped up against a pile of silk pillows and trying her hardest not to despair at the opportunities she was letting slip by, Mel felt recovered. 
It was what she told Elora when she caught her heading out at dawn on the third day, telling her in a slightly nasal voice to get in touch with her private tutors so she could catch up on the work she had missed. 

Her small break had taught her to pay closer attention to her body's limits if she wanted to avoid being out of commission for another couple of crucial days. 

As such, she noticed the tremors in her hands more frequently. 

They occured at random times, sometimes disappearing for a whole week and catching her off guard when she was preparing a speech in front of her teachers and classmates. She had to set her debate cards down to lessen the shaking, frowning as she lowered her hands behind the speaker's podium. 

Another time she nearly dropped her fork as she was lifting it to her mouth, sending crumbs flying in all directions. Jayce gave her a concerned look over the rim of his cup. 

It would have been simple to chalk up her new oddities to nervousness. Nobody would have blamed her for experiencing the pressure of her imminent exams in full swing now that it was her last year at university.
Mel knew it had to have another reason entirely. She was not a person who flustered quickly. Debate etiquette and formal speech had been the basis of her training since her early years and she was certain that there was nobody who chose their words as carefully as her. 
There was no reason for her to be on edge, as she was aware of her abilities and assured of her success no matter what angle she was speaking from. 

No, like a bad omen, the reason for her lack of composure evaded her mind whenever she tried to focus. 
She felt hunted, watched. It was harder for her to get lost in her mandatory reading than before. 
The shadow lingered, observing her from her peripheral vision. It was driving her increasingly mad the longer her condition prevailed. 

As a result, she threw herself at her studies twice as urgently. Her time with Jayce became a sort of lifeline in an ocean of frustration, but even his calming presence no longer had the effect she desired.
In an entirely unfair train of thought, she blamed him for her emotional state of disarray. Had she not sought him out so he could bring balance to her routine? He had been practically handpicked for her, the exact type of person who should have been able to calm her thoughts. Instead, his constant indecision at the start of their relationship had added an extra layer of stress to her everyday life. Perhaps he was the reason she was doubting herself more than ever. 

A kind gap-toothed smile and a comforting arm around her waist were enough to snap her out of her misery. 
She was spiraling. It wasn't Jayce's fault any more than it was someone else's. If anything, he had stood by her side and tried to correct his failings and in return, she had given him less grace than she should have. 

The day the shadow took form started off unremarkable. 
She had left for her lessons early in the morning and returned to her apartment at noon for a quick pause to drop off her books before her next lecture.
Upon entry, Elora was waiting for her with a tense twist to her mouth. 

"There's a letter on your desk," she said, her voice strangely expectant. "It's from your mother."

One of her earliest childhood memories included a songbird and a pair of scissors. 

The bird had been presented to her on her tenth birthday in an ornate golden cage. Its plumage was a flawless ivory color and it made sweet chirping noises as it fluttered within its decorative prison. 
Such a beautiful bird was the perfect gift for a highborn young lady, her mother's advisor had assured her. 

She had been allowed to keep the bird in her room until her mother's return from an overseas diplomatic visit. 
It may have been a figment of her vivid imagination, but Mel remembered teaching it to sing along to a tune she was fond of back then. 

The day her mother returned, she had forced her to clip its wings. 

It had seemed cruel to her and she hadn't wanted to cause it any harm. The bird hadn't ever tried to escape its cage even as she opened it for feeding. Her mother had placed the pair of scissors firmly in her hands and explained to her that a bird would always dream of flying no matter if it could see the sky or not. 
She had to clip its wings so it no longer had a choice but to remain on the ground. It was the only way she could keep it. 

Staring at the crumpled letter in her hands, Mel thought that perhaps her own wings had been clipped without her knowing. 

Her mother hadn't written to her in years, communicating only through the teachers she had sent abroad to tutor her. 
For the longest time, Mel had thought her mother's disappointment in her lack of cunning was immense enough to let her fade into obscurity in the older woman's eyes. She had been wrong. Her mother had been watching her moves for years and she had come to collect her prize. 

After a short introductory paragraph that held no sign of apology or any inquiry on her wellbeing, her mother had briefly informed her of her appreciation of Mel's efforts. 

She had done well groveling and kissing the feet of various influential figures. Her reputation had spread far enough that Noxus had caught wind of it. The lost daughter of a leading general, aspiring to set foot in a faraway city's council. 
It had intrigued her mother, was what Mel read between the lines. There was no doubt she had seen it as a way to expand her own power. Mel had simply done the necessary groundwork. 

She was suddenly worth keeping around again. 

Her mother had invited her back home. 

Mind reeling, Mel felt compelled to tear the offending piece of parchment into a thousand tiny scraps. She was furious.
Being ignored for the larger part of her adolescence and adulthood had been one thing.
For Ambessa to come stake her claim where it was not wanted, when she had finally found something that was hers alone, was utterly presumptuous. 

Her mother undoubtedly knew that she was close to graduating and escaping her grasp for good. 
With no more Noxian personnel to watch over her, she would be left to her own devices. She mistrusted Mel. That much was plainly obvious to her. 

Now she wanted her to spend the coming spring at her family's estate, reconciling and letting her mother decide what was good for her once again. 
She had wished for her support, but not in a way that would force her back into the role of the naive girl she had long abandoned. Living her life as one of Ambessa's puppets was the exact thing she had been trying to avoid by finding her own footing elsewhere.

Returning was out of the question. 

It took her a few tense minutes to collect herself before she uncrumpled the letter and put it in her drawer. She would think of an appropriate response once she had completed her schooling for the day. 

Venturing out onto the busy streets again made her feel unsteady. 
Amid the crowd, she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. People were passing her by unperturbed but there suddenly seemed to be a divide between her and them.

She made it to the Academy's grounds safely before the nausea hit her with a force that sent her running to the nearest bathroom. 
Retching over the sink, her stomach heaved and contracted around nothing. A dribble of spit escaped her mouth that she wiped away with a shaking hand. 
Glancing up, her ashen reflection in the mirror stared back, shaken. 

What's wrong with me, she thought hysterically, scrubbing at her hands with soap. A fit of panic was uncharacteristic of her usual strongmindedness. She had thought herself past the age where something as simple as a letter could affect her quite as much.

Still, once she had washed and cleaned herself with cool water, she felt a jolt of fear at the thought of being stuck in a room with other people in her current condition. 
She needed time to untangle her thoughts and emotions, and there was only one place she could think of that would grant her respite. 

The ground under her heels crunched with gravel as she wandered aimlessly through the gardens. 

In Noxus, the winters rarely were as cold as in Piltover and she tightened the folds of her coat around her in an involuntary shiver. 
Part of her had come out here just to think and breathe, but another part slowly despaired at the heavy feeling in her chest that wouldn't let up no matter how deeply she exhaled. 

She found the small bench nestled amid two old willow trees easily, having sat her often when Jayce spent an afternoon with her. Now, the bench seemed larger without the presence of another person, and she drew her knees up to her chest as she settled against the wooden surface.

Initially, she had meant to allow herself a brief time to settle her anger, hurt and frustration. 

Closing her eyes and resting her head against her folded arms, she felt uncertain if she would ever make sense of the jumbled mess of feelings she held close to her heart. There was so much she had desperately pushed away into the furthest corners of her mind. The letter had opened the floodgates and now it seemed all she could do was drown in her own complicated emotions. 

Her moment of self-pity was interrupted by the creaking of wood bending under somebody else's weight and no sooner was it that she felt an unfamiliar presence to her right. 
A childish part of her wanted to snap at whoever it was that had interrupted her in her solitude but her diplomatic training kicked in before she could lash out. The gardens were a public space. She had no right to claim them as her own. 

Cracking one eye open, she peered at the girl who had taken the spot next to her.
She was young, her face half hidden behind square lenses. There was a light smattering of freckles around her nose and cheeks. Her lab coat was stained with colorful splotches of what appeared to be chalk. 

As if sensing the attention on her, the girl stole a glance at her and jolted as their eyes locked for a moment. Her grasp on the notebook she had brought slipped and she fumbled not to drop it, clutching it to her chest. 
She looked ready to ignore her but her gaze widened imperceptibly as she took in her expression. Flustered, she pushed her glasses up with one hand and leaned closer. 

"Oh, are you alright?" she asked, her voice airy and melodic. 

Mel sniffed, nose stuffy. She lowered her legs onto the ground and gave the girl a polite smile. 
There was no need to appear worse for wear in front of another student. 

"Nothing major. Just a few assignments that are weighing on me."

The girl nodded empathetically. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. My own professors are trying to bury us with extracurricular work at the moment. I come here to clear my mind sometimes."

Straightening her back, Mel gestured at her notebook in feigned interest. "I know the feeling. What are you working on, if you don't mind me asking?" There was nothing she wanted more at the moment than to draw the attention away from her state of disarray. 

The girl was visibly flustered at the line of questioning, caught off-guard.

"Ah, I'm not working on anything specific. I help out where I can, you know, performing tests and keeping track of everything at the lab. I'm supposed to be there in an hour, but I thought it would be a better use of my time to work on my own assignments. It's my last year, and I haven't given my end-of-year presentation much thought."

She had to be in at least some of Jayce's courses, then. Mel hadn't met many other scientists outside of school events and the girl seemed much more subdued than those she had gotten to know. 
She wondered if they had ever crossed paths in the hallway without her noticing. 

"Then I hope you feel inspired soon," she said, moving to stand up and leave the girl to her pondering. "I didn't want to disturb you in your studies."

To her surprise, the girl jumped to her foot just as quickly, motioning towards the bench. "I was the one who interrupted! Please, have a seat. I can study at the lab, it's no inconvenience for me!"

Unsure, Mel sat back down, but the conversation had thrown her off enough that her original goal of wallowing alone in misery seemed over the top the longer she thought about it. She had purposefully missed class for the first time in her life and she was at a loss of how to continue on with her day.

The other woman still hovered over her, conflict written clear across her face. 
She appeared to come to a decision as she, too, settled back into her previous spot, brown eyes trained on Mel in concern. 

"I know it's not my business whatsoever, but I wanted to offer my support in case you need it. You looked pretty distraught a few moments ago and I find that talking about it helps, so." She averted her gaze in self-consciousness. "If you want to tell me what is bothering you, you can."

Mel blinked at her, not as put off by the idea as she had expected. 

Elora was the only person she trusted enough to share her innermost thoughts with. They had essentially grown up together, and Mel knew for a fact that Elora wouldn't betray the girl she had raised and tutored for most of her life for anything in the world. 
Elora was also her employee, if she were to discount everything else that kept them together. 
Most women her age had other friends they could confide in, regardless of if they were sworn to secrecy as a condition of their job. It had never been something Mel had felt jealous over, as the risk of letting a stranger in on her personal affairs barely seemed worth the reward. 

Nonetheless, when the opportunity presented itself, she found it hard to say no. 

It took her a moment to come up with the right words, nothing too indiscreet but enough to accurately convey what she felt. 

"There's this decision I've been putting off for half of my life," she started, "and now that things are... changing, I no longer know which path I should choose. Everywhere I turn, my future seems to be set in stone. I've tried running from my past and not letting it define me, but it's catching up to me."

Voice breaking, she added "I have no idea of who I actually am anymore. All I know is I can't be like her."

There was a silence that settled between them like the rustling of leaves in the wind. 
It was an exhilarating feeling to confess her problem to someone who had no preconceived notion of who she was. The second she had spoken the words, she had known them to be true. 
In her desperate attempt to free herself from her mother's influence, she had buried her own dreams in the process. Part of her longed to return to Noxus and pretend like nothing had ever changed, but it would mean giving up her agenda and everything she wanted to improve in her own small part of the world in favor of a love that was conditional. 

She couldn't let them clip her wings, but her cage loomed above her. 

The girl, mercifully, didn't ask who she was referring to.
Instead, she appeared to ponder for a while, brows furrowed in thought. Her notebook lay abandoned in the space between their bodies. 

"A friend of mine once said-," she began, then winced. "Honestly, he is more like my mentor. I owe him a lot, and he is the smartest person I know. He once told me that when all paths lead to a dead end, I should put down my equipment and head home for the day. Then in the morning, I should return and pick it up again, and I would find that things aren't as complicated as they appeared."

Blushing, her eyes flitted over to Mel and she smiled. "I probably can't explain it as well as he can, but what I want you to know is: There's always another way. You may not have found it yet, or maybe you never considered it as a possibility, but a life is only well-lived when you find happiness in the things you do. You don't have to follow in anybody's footsteps just as you don't have to run from everything you associate with that person to prove to yourself that you are somebody different."

She paused and suddenly looked sheepish, glasses halfway down her nose again. 

"I know it's easier said than done, but sometimes it takes a little trial and error to get a satisfying result."

There was nothing Mel could do but stare. Her fingers were numb from the cold and her nose was stuffy, but she felt lighter than she had in years. 

"Thank you, um-"

"Sky," the other woman answered, shrinking a little under her gaze. 

"You gave me a lot to think about." Hesitantly, she reached out one hand for Sky to shake, the scientist's palm warm against her freezing one. "If you have the time, would you like to get a coffee with me? Presuming your other work can wait, I wouldn't want to keep you-"

"I'd love to! I know just the place."

Mel nodded, grateful. Sky's dimpled smile was contagious.

Whatever decision she settled on, it could wait an hour more.  

Chapter Text

Inevitably, Viktor returned to the lab with aching bones and no less hopelessly in love with Jayce Talis. 

That in itself wasn't a new discovery; rather, it was a state of being he had resigned himself to some couple of months ago. Years, even, if he was completely honest. The trajectory of his life was firmly split into a mass of dreary, meaningless days before he met his lab partner, and everything after. 
Their shared vacation had only solidified what he had long known: his feelings were an inextricable part of who he had come to be. 

It helped that everybody was at least a little infatuated with Jayce. It was hard not to be, especially once you got to know him. 

Were he less rationally minded, he would have written poems about all the ways their closeness made his heart sing. He would have described it as something along the lines of: Having Jayce around him was like bathing in sunlight. It was like floating high above the rest of the world. It was a thrill that dwarfed anything else in comparison.

It was also his biggest cause of agitation. 

"Do it more gently!" he hissed, fingers straining to snatch the screwdriver from his partner's hands. 

Jayce shot him an offended look, reluctantly loosening his grip on the tool. 

The beginning of the semester had flown by in a rush and they were well into their first week of trimonthly exams. Viktor had frantically drafted up a schematic overview of the bionic prototype they had agreed to present as Jayce's final project on his car ride back to the city, and as soon as Jayce had joined him a couple of days later, they had thrown themselves at their new endeavor in an excited frenzy. 

If everything fell into place as calculated, they would be the first independent inventors in Piltover to bring a fully functional prosthetic with additional functions to the market. It would revolutionize mining and hard physical labor at a fraction of the cost of current models. 
On some mornings, when Viktor's leg stubbornly refused to obey and he couldn't get out of bed the first fifteen minutes after waking up, he thought to himself Why stop there? 
Growing up in the undercity, amputees hadn't been a rare sight. Mining accidents occurred frequently, far from the public eye. There were hundreds of people going about their day with shoddy, barely usable prosthetics – and those were the fortunate ones, as the majority of those with missing limbs had no means of affording even a haphazardly thrown-together junkyard version of what Viktor was planning to build. 
He had started working with Jayce out of a desire to leave something of value behind. 

Together, they had achieved more than he had ever thought possible. Jayce hadn't reached his full potential, far from it, and Viktor hoped he would be there to witness every step of the way. No longer standing alone was a strange shift from his solitary days of being Heimerdinger's assistant. Suddenly, it wasn't just about improving lives. If they could help others with their inventions, then who was to say they couldn't help themselves? 

Being around each other constantly made it easy for him to get lost in their bubble of feverish calculations and nightly epiphanies. 
It was easy to pretend that nothing else existed outside of the lab. It was just them and their work, every second of it precious and irreplaceable. 

When reality shattered the illusion, it often came unbidden. 

Like clockwork, Jayce excused himself from their work to spend his afternoons with Mel Medarda. After it had happened the first couple of times at regular intervals, Viktor had developed an inkling of when he would be left alone at the lab. As such, he almost anticipated the sting of quiet rejection that followed Jayce's departing footsteps and their door closing behind him, though it only lessened marginally no matter how hard he tried to push it down.

He knew he had no right to feel sorry for himself. 

He made his choice. You'll have to live with that.

Mel had seen through him the second they had met, and he had to give her his reluctant respect for her straightforwardness, though there was one aspect she had overlooked. There was no choice to be made because Viktor had never been part of the equation. 

Previously, Sky had kept him company during his lone nights at the laboratory when he had been the last to stay behind, asking him the occasional question about his experiments and refilling his coffee whenever he was too absorbed in his activities to do it himself.

As fall faded into cold winter mornings, she left work earlier than usual with the stuttered excuse of visiting a friend. 

Perhaps it had been an oversight on Viktor's part, but he hadn't been aware of any recent friends Sky may have made. The young woman had always struck him as friendly but reclusive, a part of her character he appreciated. 
With her gone during his usual overnight stays, the lab suddenly felt quieter. Emptier, too. He wasn't sure what to make of the chill that seeped into his bones whenever it was just him and his equipment, the whirring of gears and the metal clinking of his tools the only sounds to break the silence. 

When Jayce reliably shook him awake the next morning, draping a blanket over his shoulders and scolding him for ruining his back by sleeping in his chair, it was like the world had come alive again. 

His assistant duties took up no more than a sliver of his thoughts by contrast. Sorting through stacks of documents, filing away letters and catching the odd pair of students trying to sneak into locked classrooms was unexciting, mindless work. It was what had secured him his position at the Academy and allowed him to further his studies in the first place, but every task Heimerdinger gave him paled in comparison to what he was achieving in his own time, with Jayce. 

Viktor respected the professor like any man with an ounce of intelligence would, but the founder of their institution knew laughably little about the shortcomings of a human lifespan.

The only perk his occupation had was being allowed into exclusive university events as a quiet observer. 
Before he had found purpose in his experiments, he had hardly cared about whichever well-connected upstart was presenting their newest breakthroughs for an audience of people who were much too eager to invest their money. 
Then again, the before rarely concerned him nowadays. 

Jayce was a brilliant public speaker, a fact that was evident to all who witnessed his appearances in front of a crowd. 

Viktor was willing to bet that Jayce could convince the council members to sign away their fortunes to his cause if he got to be in a room with them for more than ten minutes. Words weren't what had made him put his trust in Jayce's capabilities, but he was under no false illusions. Jayce could have convinced him of just about anything, and he would have complied without question. 

As the university's golden boy and star pupil, it was his lab partner's honor to inform the board of any new developments – and rake in as much funding as he could. The glaring stage lighting illuminated the sharper parts of his face and body, cheekbones and jaw appearing more defined, his shoulders impossibly broader.

His announcement was the usual mix of thanking their benefactors and presenting their concept for the university's winter solstice charity gala, as well as other positively thrilling news Viktor could have lived without.
No additions to their curriculum, no further information on the science competition at the end of the school year, no talk of helping those who truly needed the heaps of financial backing that would no doubt be thrown at whatever endeavor Heimerdinger decided was amusing enough. 
That Jayce had managed to transform pages of tasteless drivel into something halfway listenable alone was proof of his skill. 

After he had finished his speech with the usual grand declaration of the Academy's virtues, something that Heimerdinger insisted on year after year, Viktor shuffled his way through the audience, not keen on getting pushed or trampled once the room inescapably decided that it was time to head out. 

Jayce found him outside the large wooden doors of the auditorium, grinning crookedly. 

"Bored to death already?" he asked, clasping Viktor on the shoulder. "That's a new record."

"Not for lack of trying on your part. I'm sure you want to rinse your mouth after all the feet you kissed up there. Thank you for your kindness, you're much too generous, I couldn't possibly accept your money. Is that what they teach you these days?"

Shrugging, Jayce draped his arm across the length of his back, tugging him along gently. "Whatever works best. Rich people love that kind of talk."

They love to hear you say those things, Viktor thought. 

The sun was starting to disappear behind the rooftops by the time they had made it to the lab. Jayce had insisted they grab a cheap dinner on their way back, cheap sandwiches in a brown paper bag that he practically inhaled while going over their latest notes. 
Between measured bites, Viktor tinkered with the mechanical skeleton of their bionic arm, testing its reflexes by poking and prodding at certain areas, the tips of its fingers, the bend of its elbow. It would need more than a little improvement, but they had half a year to perfect it. Already, it was substantially more than the rough outline they had started with. Viktor allowed himself to feel hopeful in their success, although it was accompanied by a healthy measure of skepticism. They couldn't allow themselves to slack off now. Without the right calibrations –

" – if you don't have any other plans yet?"

Blinking, he turned away from the magnifying lens and gave Jayce an apprehensive look over his shoulder. "What was that?"

Shifting in his chair, Jayce glanced at him in a way that made him feel slightly awkward. 

"I was just saying," he repeated, "that my mother wants me to ask you if you want to spend the winter solstice at our place. Since you came along last time."

Viktor felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Jayce's mother was most likely under the impression that he was a poor, parentless stray who had found employment at the Academy on Heimerdinger's goodwill. She seemed firmly convinced that Jayce was his sole source of social contact, and Viktor was not sure how to correct her misjudgment, partly because she was right to believe that her son was the only person he considered a true friend, and partly because he had to admit that it felt nice being fussed over and coddled for once. 

Teasing, he raised an eyebrow at Jayce. "Your mother wants me to come spend the solstice with her?"

"Quit acting obtuse on purpose," Jayce coughed, faint embarrassment in his voice. "You know I want you there or else I wouldn't be asking. It's just a weekend at our house, not the cabin. You looked, uh..."

He was quiet for a moment, struggling to find the right words. 

"You looked like you didn't hate it the last time," he finished lamely. "Mel is coming, too. I figured since you guys warmed up to each other, it would be nice to spend the festivities together."

When did we...? Viktor thought, trying his hardest not to let his confusion show. The realization left a bad taste in his mouth. 
Mel's confrontation on the stairs must have looked like a friendly conversation between them to Jayce, who hadn't heard exactly what his girlfriend had said to him. 
Shame rolled in his gut as he remembered her hand on his knee, the words she had hissed still etched into his mind. He hadn't expected her to be so upfront about her lingering suspicions, even though he had noticed her eyes flitting between him and Jayce whenever they had interacted in front of her. She seemed to have a nearly supernatural intuition, as she hadn't left room for argument in her accusations.
He had no room to judge her for her actions. She was free to hate him all she wanted, although there was no reason for her to worry about him in the first place. Magic would return to Piltover before Jayce ever considered him in that way. 

"Does she know?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

Jayce nodded as if it went without saying. "She already confirmed everything with her assistant. It's why I'm asking you so early. There's still more than a month left, but I guess I wanted to check in. With you."

He cleared his throat and slid down further in his chair, stretching his legs. One of his boots touched Viktor's foot. 

Viktor hummed as if all that needed to be discussed was over and dealt with, but his mind was going into overdrive, frantically trying to make sense of Jayce's intentions.
Why bring me along, he wondered, if this is your chance to spend a weekend alone with the woman you love. Where is my place in all of this? 
Was there any reason for him to overthink the simple invitation? Their summer vacation at the cabin, while pleasant, had been lucky coincidence that let him catch a glimpse of the childhood Jayce rarely talked about. Now, he had asked him without any mention of their experiments or anything that related to their work. It made him feel unsteady, like the floor underneath him could tip in either direction. He didn't know whether Jayce had asked him both times out of politeness or a genuine desire for his company, as lab partners or the hesitant sort of friends they had become. 

In the end, it was another thing he desperately willed himself to overlook as he tried to form a response. He knew his answer long before it left his mouth. 

One bleak morning before dawn, the heavy doors to their testing grounds opened with a gust of cold air and Jayce positively dragged himself into their lab by nothing more than his determination. 

Viktor told him to go home immediately. He was coughing all over their equipment. 

Mel had been sick a few weeks ago, Jayce informed him, head hung low as he struggled down the hallway. He was sure he must have caught it from her.
He was radiating sickly heat even through three layers of clothing. Sighing, Viktor tightened his grip on the other man's arm.
It took him every bit of concentration to help him reach the ground floor, coming to a staggering halt with less grace than he would have preferred. It wasn't often that he had to carry more than his own body weight, precariously balanced on a cane nonetheless. 

Jayce's apartment wasn't far from the lab. 

They arrived at his unit after another fight with the stairs that left Viktor ringing for breath. Jayce fumbled with his keys, dropping them several times before he finally unlocked his door and stumbled inside. 

Unsure of whether he should say his goodbyes now that they had arrived, Viktor lingered in the doorway, cursing his own helpfulness. His partner had never invited him to his apartment, and apart from the time Jayce had waited for him outside of his door, he hadn't returned the favor. It was easier that way. 

He had succeeded in not thinking about the color of Jayce's wallpaper for the better part of a year. Of course, it was perfectly in character of Jayce to crush the fragile inner peace Viktor had made with his curiosity in one devastating move. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from soaking up every small detail he could get a glimpse of, memorizing every jacket on his coat hanger, every book on his shelves, everything that would bring him closer to understanding. 

A clattering noise from the kitchen made the decision for him. 

"Lost my balance there for a moment," Jayce murmured, sheepish, leaning against the cabinet. A cup rolled past his feet and under the sink. He had had the astonishing foresight to pick a metal one. 

There wasn't much Viktor could do but needle him until he agreed to go to sleep. 

Pausing in the doorway to his bedroom, Jayce turned around and gave him a tired smile. "Thanks, V. See you at the lab?"
There was something soft about him, blushing cheeks and hair sticking up at odd angles like he hadn't combed it back in his signature style before heading out. He had left his shoes at the door.

It was, for lack of other words, domestic. Viktor stood frozen halfway across the small hallway, rooted to the spot. He was suddenly fearful of every step that would take him closer to that door. 

"Don't think of coming back until you're completely recovered," he snapped, but there was no real conviction behind it. 

Jayce shook his head fondly and huffed a small laugh between sniffs, closing the door behind him. 

For longer than he probably should have, Viktor lingered in the dark, listening to his faint breathing until it evened out.

He then turned around and forced himself past the living room, undoubtedly filled with memories Jayce had chosen not to share with him. 
The kitchen door stood ajar, just as the other man had left it.

He paused. 

"I didn't know you cooked," Jayce remarked casually, half a week later. 

Viktor shrugged. "I like to spend my time doing something useful. You're welcome, by the way."

His partner scratched the back of his neck, slightly flustered.

"Yeah, thanks for, um, that."

He stretched across the table to grab a pair of precision tweezers, muscles shifting beneath his shirt. "You know, it tasted kind of like the soup my mom used to make me when I was sick."

"Really," Viktor said, pointedly not staring. "Funny coincidence."

Chapter Text

Winter arrived and the Academy turned into one giant bundle of nervous excitement. 

For his part, Viktor thought his imminent stay at the Talis estate was more of a blessing than he had originally thought. Upon confessing to Heimerdinger that he wouldn't be able to join the upcoming celebrations, the professor waved him off with a good-natured retort to Wind down, my boy, and make sure you get some good rest. The news that his assistant would be absent during the banquet didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. 

The professor remained somewhat of an enigma to him after years of working together.

Resolving to take his responsibilities as seriously as he could bring himself to, Viktor patrolled the school with reluctant purpose. With the peril of exams looming overhead, it was easier than usual to catch odd stragglers trying to sneak into the teacher's office to copy answers for their tests or spike the staff's coffee with laxatives. 
The more stammered excuses he had to listen to, the less impressed he was. The Academy's highest virtues were perseverance and steadfastness to one's goals in the face of adversity, but its students seemed to apply their vigor in all the wrong ways. Most of them lost their bravado the second he threatened to report them to the dean, begging him to turn a blind eye. 

Scaring them off with a stern look proved to be sufficient punishment in the largest of cases. Piltover's finest lacked the gall to repeat their risky endeavors, choosing instead to run with their tails between their legs. It was amusing to witness. No Zaunite would give up quite as easily. Then again, no Zaunite would ever be careless enough to get caught in the act, either. 

Where the parts of his day he spent in the lab flew by in the blink of an eye, his work at the Academy dragged on endlessly. 

Soon, it was time to grade the collected papers for Heimerdinger classes, something he had been entrusted with as, according to the professor, he was not only one of the brightest minds on campus grounds – promoting him to the rank of an honorary faculty member in the secrecy of his office – but also one of the few he trusted to be entirely impartial when it came to assessing the quality of the research presented. 
In much simpler terms, Viktor suspected the professor himself was too busy with his own experiments and whatever he deemed more important to sift through mountains of essays each evening. 

Much of what he forced himself to appraise – instead of mindlessly skim – was the same jumble of uninspired arguments he knew by heart as a result of having read every possible variation of it crammed in the span of weeks. Most theses lacked insight and nuance, regurgitating popular opinions and presenting them as new discoveries. They were, for the most part, not fully devoid of intellect, but far from what could be considered brilliant. 

Strewn few and far between were rare approaches he found himself mulling over, inspiring feverish debates in his head. Those who dared to break conventions in their experimentation were the only ones who caught his interest. It was easy to narrow down the pool of candidates in his head to those who had the initiative to venture into unexplored territory with their writing. It almost became a game to him, matching the tone of voice to the person it had originated from, and he read those papers in earnest, sometimes annotating certain paragraphs with his own questions. 

He constantly reminded himself not to let personal bias influence his grading, being extra strict on papers he thought had true potential. His notes were meant to push the authors to expand their arguments further, never intending to sound malicious but rather encouraging. 
Some submissions he had to put aside every now and then. 

There was one dissertation on aquatic plant life that could clear the waters in the canals that he imagined reading aloud in Sky's voice. 
The young woman had asked him for advice on the topic some time ago, and he recognized his own feedback in her line of reasoning, which made a proud smile blossom on his face unwillingly. Her thesis was sound, aside from some minor gaps in her argumentation. He would have to subtly ask her about her progress once they spent more than an hour together at the lab, planning to nudge her in the right direction with a bit of inquisitory conversation.

Near the end of his shift, he pulled one paper on the ethics of augmenting the human body with technology out of the pile, recognizing Jayce's looping handwriting almost immediately. Forcing himself to only briefly glance at his disputation – his partner had argued firmly in favor of necessary bionic replacements if they were designed to improve, not enhance, a person's physiology – he neatly stacked the pages on top of each other and left them at Heimerdinger's desk before heading out. 

So immersed was he in his regular duties and extracurricular activities that he nearly missed the last day of school before the winter holidays, biting back an "Until tomorrow" as Heimerdinger unceremoniously ushered him out of the office one snowy afternoon, bidding him farewell and wishing him a happy winter solstice with a cheerful pat of his paw against Viktor's good knee. 

He hadn't given his weekend much thought, purposefully swallowing down his nervous anticipation and focusing instead on what he had been hired to do. Jayce was absent again when he opened the doors to their lab, off to spend the night at Mel's luxurious highrise apartment in the better part of town, from where he would head out the next morning, having texted Viktor his family estate's address some hours prior.

Ignoring the dread in his stomach at the thought of having to face the woman in less than a day, not to mention having to stay holed up with her, the man he was trying hard to get over and his mother, he vowed not to linger on what he couldn't prepare for either way. The thought of canceling on Jayce snuck up on him in passing while he welded together thin plates of metal, laser humming in his hand. He dismissed it quickly. Jayce wasn't the only reason he had agreed to the stay, his mother had specifically asked him to join them. The thought of disappointing the older woman was an uncomfortable one. His own parents would have been about her age. 

He stayed hunched over his workbench until deep into the night, flexing the fingers of their bionic arm and rotating its ball joints along their axis. Jayce's notes had given him some indication of what they had to improve and he relaxed the more he sunk into a familiar state of concentration, finding contentment in the knowledge of furthering their progress. 
Six months was just about the right amount of time for them to scrape together an engaging showcase and complete their final product. He wasn't bound by the same deadlines as the rest of the graduates, a perk of his decision not to register as a student, but he wanted to alleviate the pressure Jayce was under by doing whatever he could to bring their project along. 

Maybe, once they had mastered attaching an arm to a living body, they could set their sights on building a leg next.
His own mobility waned with his largely sedentary occupation, his leg becoming stiff and immovable after spending hours in a chair. Walking didn't help much, the twinge in his knee increasing with every step until he had to lean on his cane for support again. 
His condition was the oldest friend he had, a simple deformation of his bone structure he had learned to live with since his childhood. The doctors had told him it wasn't spreading to any other part of his body, and the cost of an operation was higher than triple his yearly salary. It was unclear if a surgical reconstruction would aid in his recovery or only worsen his circumstances, so he resigned himself to accept it as another part of his faulty body he would have to bear with. 
Recently, he had felt hopeful at the implications of their research. Replacing his leg was an extreme measure, but one he wasn't unwilling to seriously consider if it meant being able to walk like any other healthy man around him. It would be years until they could test it out, if their first prototype proved to be successful. He wasn't sure how to bring up the topic around Jayce, though he doubted the other man would try to stop him, his words on paper flashing before his eyes. Improve, not enhance. That was all he was hoping to achieve, the chance to live free of pain. Jayce was compassionate enough to hear him out, and Viktor was confident that he could make him understand. 

"Viktor," a soft voice behind him gasped. 

He was surprised by Sky's late visit, taking a glance at the watch on one of the lower shelves. It was nearly midnight. She must have worked on her assignments presumably at home before returning to the lab. 

He gave her a short nod and a friendly smile before directing his attention back to his tools. 

"You're staying late again," Sky murmured, not an accusation but a simple observation. She worried for his health almost as much as Jayce did, though she usually kept her concerns to herself and only frowned at him whenever he pushed his limits. 

He motioned for her to come closer with one hand raised above his shoulders, not bothering to turn around. Curious, Sky complied and stood next to him, mouth opening in awe at the quick advancement of their prototype. 

"It's incredible," she said, reaching out as if to touch the silver limb, then flushing as she realized her actions. "When will it be functional?"

Shrugging, Viktor leaned back in his seat, taking off his safety goggles and squinting his eyes. 

"We'll soon go into testing, trying to control it through electric impulses so we can gage a hypothesis on how it would react when attached to organic material, and potentially an external nervous system. I'd give it another month or two."

"So soon!" Sky exclaimed, eyes shimmering with excitement behind thick lenses. Her nose was flushed red from the cold air. 

Viktor chuckled quietly, indulging her interest in their project with fondness.
When Sky first started helping them, she had been in her first year of university and she had quickly latched onto Viktor as her mentor. Jayce had been endlessly amused watching her trail after him, a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue.
Four years later, she had grown into a promising scientist in her own right, specializing in biology. Her eagerness to learn hadn't abated and she was now somebody Viktor looked forward to discussing his experiments with, often helping him come to conclusions he hadn't considered before. They hadn't asked her what she wanted to do after her graduation, but they had agreed to offer her an extended contract as their assistant until she had earned enough to rent out her own lab, something Viktor was sure she saving up for. 

"It's a good thing we're staying on schedule. Jayce will need some time to come up with a pitch that can convince the jury, and we will have to look for volunteers. I know you are not allowed to divulge much of your own project, but I hope everything is coming along well?"

As if discomfited, Sky stared at her feet, chewing on her bottom lip. 

"To be perfectly honest, I still don't know which idea to choose. I gave it a lot of thought but nothing feels right at the moment! Everybody is presenting something grand and I can't help but feel like my work looks minuscule in comparison."

Furrowing his brow, Viktor shot her a stern glance. 

"You're a bright woman, Sky. What does it matter if other people show off their work? A glamorous presentation can only get you so far, and I've seen your past projects. Whatever you deem most significant to your mission will be more than enough to overshadow all the flashy gadgets and sparkly innovations that these Piltovian heirs and heiresses think will win them the contest. All you have to do is ask yourself what really matters to you, and how you want to convey that desire."

Sky had slowly raised her gaze to meet his while he was talking and once he was done, her face broke out into a shy smile that accentuated her dimples and made her eyes crinkle. 

"I want to help the undercity," she said, voice calm and full of conviction. "That's what I want to use my research for."

Viktor hummed appreciatively. Knowing that somebody's motives overlapped with his own ambitions felt reassuring. The steady comradery they shared was a reminder of why he had felt he could trust Sky in the first place. Some experiences could strengthen a bond more quickly than others. 

"I'm looking forward to your presentation, Miss Young."

She huffed a small laugh and clasped her hands in front of her body. "I won't be disturbing your work much longer. I only wanted to ask..."

Her mouth thinned as if she was fighting with herself to speak the next words. 

"A-Are you attending the gala tomorrow? It's my first time going, and I'm hoping to connect with sponsors, so I thought– Since you know these events well, due to your job, I–"

Shaking his head in apology, Viktor felt a rush of sympathy for the young woman, her hopeful expression falling instantly. 
Had he not made promises to Jayce, he thought she might have convinced him of accompanying her. Spending an evening with her seemed preferable to his usual routine of standing in the corner and observing the most desperate students fighting for their opportunity to crowd around the richest investors, or having to hit the occasional couple who deigned it appropriate to undress behind the curtains with his cane.

"I'll be joining Jayce at his family's estate for the weekend," he explained, hoping his tone conveyed his regret. 

Sky nodded almost too keenly, cheeks darkening in embarrassment. "Of course, that's a better use of your time. It's no problem, I was merely thinking, since my friend couldn't attend either... No matter."

Viktor looked back at his equipment, then at the clock, deciding that his work could wait until he returned from his visit. He would need the rest to brace himself for the upcoming events. 

Worried he might overstep Sky's boundaries, he tilted his head in question. "Is your friend also a student at the Academy?"

Something shifted on her face, a small brightening of her expression like the mention of her mystery friend had put her in a better mood. 

"She is," she said, exhaling deeply and losing the tension in her shoulders. "I've only known her for a few weeks but she's helped me a lot with my projects. We get together after class sometimes and brainstorm our assignments. She's been so supportive, I almost feel bad only giving her my limited knowledge of politics in return, but I want to read up on it as soon as I find the time. I never knew it was so complicated."

Viktor thought of Heimerdinger and his insistence on keeping things exactly as they were. He then thought of Mel Medarda's calculating smile. Complicated, to him, was a word that summarized his opinion on Piltover's present and future leadership. 

"She's going through a rough time right now," Sky continued unexpectedly. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this at all, and I hope it's not too personal, but I wish I could do more to help her. Her family is just..." She shuddered, hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Her career is also not something that brings her a lot of fulfillment."

In his days of being nothing more than Heimerdinger's assistant, Viktor had often been dismayed at his life's trajectory. He remembered the monotony of finishing up his tasks and going home to his small apartment where he would stare at the wall for hours until sleep finally took him. Had it not been for the lab and Jayce, he imagined he would feel a similar sense of fatigue and hopelessness as Sky had alluded to. 

"I'm not sure if my advice fits her situation, but finding something that truly inspires her could help even out her dissatisfaction."

He stretched, the joints in his arms popping at the movement. 

"You already sound like you are lending her an open ear and sometimes that is all we can do. The rest is something she had to figure out by herself."

Pushing himself up, Sky scrambled to hand him his cane. Grateful, he took a tentative step from his place at the workbench, steadying himself as his leg wobbled precariously. He could feel Sky's concerned eyes on him as he slowly made his way to the door, her lighter steps following him at a short distance.

"I hope so," she mumbled behind him, "I don't want to let her down."

Against his better efforts, she was the first to reach the coathanger near the door and as such, he tolerated it as she carefully draped his coat over his shoulders. Her face was still faintly red as she stepped away.

Taking one last look around the lab, his workbench, the shelves stacked with notebooks and sentimental trinkets that Jayce insisted they had to keep around them at all times for "staying in good spirits", and their prototypes lining the tables like a bizarre sort of art installation,  he had to suppress a sigh. He would be back soon enough, to work on their breakthrough in blissful silence. 

Sky waited for him near the door, keys dangling from her index finger. 

"I'll make sure to lock the lab after I leave," she promised him.

"Diligent as always," he said warmly, already dreading the night air on his walk back to his apartment. "And Sky?"

She blinked, pushing up her glasses absentmindedly. 

"She's lucky to have a friend like you."

He was the last to arrive at the Talis estate, having chosen to go by foot instead of taking a cab.

Viktor hadn't expected a grand mansion as Jayce wasn't from one of the richer families in Piltover, but the small villa hidden behind ornamental iron gates still made him bark a dry laugh in exasperation. Lesser house, my ass, he thought. Piltovians had no real idea of their overflowing wealth. 

He had barely touched the doorbell before the iron gates opened inward with an electric buzz and he limped his way into the front yard, past neatly trimmed evergreen bushes and tall pine trees that lined the gravel path. It had snowed again the previous night and a thin white blanket covered the grounds, making the estate look even more picturesque.

Behind heavy curtains, light shone through the closed windows up ahead, illuminating patches of the lawn in a golden glow. 

Before he could reach the front door, it swung open and Jayce waved at him with that familiar crooked grin of his, like he hadn't seen him in years. 

"V!" he shouted, voice unnecessarily loud in the quiet of morning. "You made it! Any longer and I would have gone looking for you!"

He was in front of him in a heartbeat, tall and impossibly warm, his woolen shirt smelling like fresh bread and cinnamon. 

It was too late to turn around now, Viktor thought sullenly, letting the taller man take him by the arm and pull him along, careful not to upset his balance. 

The inside of the house was much more stylish than the comparatively quaint interior of the cabin, wooden paneling painted white and decorated with classical artwork as well as pictures of a small boy with unruly dark hair and a tooth gap depicted during several activities. In one image, he was smiling at the camera proudly, a toy hammer in his hand. In the next, he was playing with a large brown dog, the animal dwarfing the child. Another photo showed him holding up a certificate of winning first place in a science competition, much older now than he had been in the previous ones. 

Viktor swallowed as he slipped out of his shoes, feeling distinctly in the wrong place as he stood in the middle of Jayce's home, the floor smooth and warm against his socked feet. 

"Mom wanted to wait with breakfast until you arrived," Jayce murmured next to his ear, much too close. 

Nodding wordlessly, Viktor turned the corner, his cane clacking loudly. It was a somewhat humiliating way of announcing his presence before he had even entered the room.

The hallway opened up into a spacious living room with a higher ceiling than Viktor would have thought possible. A fireplace took up one side of the wall, burning logs crackling in the heat. On the opposite wall, more picture frames had been hung up, next to large bookshelves that looked just about ready to topple and break under the weight of what seemed to be hundreds of tomes stacked on top of each other. 

Reading through every single one would have been preferable to what waited for him in the middle of the room.

There was a round table, and on it, there were all sorts of pastries and fruit artfully arranged on small plates. Next to the table sat Mel Medarda, and she looked about as happy to see him as was the reverse. 

Thankfully, Ximena Talis had chosen the seat across from her, which allowed Viktor to mentally pick the chair that was furthest away from the Noxian and opposite Jayce. 

The older woman rose to greet him and he politely shook her hand, apologizing for his late arrival and wishing her a merry winter solstice, may the gods look upon her with favor and bless her house. Returning his wishes, she patted his hands and told him to make himself comfortable at their table, Jayce snickering at the gesture. Viktor frowned at him as subtly as he could. 

His best attempts to ignore Mel's presence just as she had done up until that very moment were thwarted by her unexpectedly shooting him a strained smile, nodding her head in greeting. "Viktor. What a joyous occasion it is that you decided to join us."

She must have been playing her part, pretending they were miraculously getting along in front of her boyfriend and his mother. For somebody who cared as much about appearances as she did, it would have been a grave insult to have her olive branch rejected. He contemplated letting her fume silently as he busied himself with his food, but Ximena's kind smile made him decide against it. He wasn't here to let his past grievances get in the way of their celebration. 

Inclining his head, he locked eyes with her, keeping his gaze steady and unashamed. 

"I could say the same about you. It's an honor to have been invited here today."

Ximena patted his shoulder like he had said something adorable, pouring him a cup of coffee. The initial tension broken, the rest of their breakfast passed in amicable chatter. 
Viktor was full and ready to burst before it was announced that lunch would follow in just a few hours. Their table alone could have fed his family for weeks back when he was a child. He thought of the small boy in the pictures, memories lovingly preserved and hung on display. If this was the life he had been born into, he wondered what Jayce would have thought of him, had they met at an earlier point.

The afternoon brought with it the last rays of daylight and Jayce suggested they take a walk along the riverside.

Trudging along after the rest of their group, Viktor breathed in the winter air, tasting sea salt and chimney smoke. The banks were uncharacteristically devoid of Piltovians, a small mercy the festivities granted him. Most families were at home celebrating, and most others could be found at one banquet or another. The river reflected the sunlight almost blindingly as it continued its descent toward the horizon and Viktor shielded his eyes with one hand.

He was content to take in the scenery and mull over his latest calculations, when Mel whispered something to Jayce up ahead that made him laugh, chancing a glance backwards, before she waited to fall into step with him.

Narrowing his eyes at her, Viktor continued on his path, agonizingly slow now that he was aware of her halting steps as she tried to adjust her own pace. 

Mel stared back at him for a second before she raised her head up high, eyes closing. "Don't look so excited to see me."

"The last we talked, you gave me the impression that you'd prefer me to stay away from you altogether."

"I didn't say that," Mel said simply, "I said I want you to stay away from Jayce."

Viktor huffed at her honesty. 

Sighing, she lowered her gaze and kicked a rock out of her way, the gesture so common that Viktor raised an eyebrow at her. "And only if you continue to get close to him," she continued, "which you haven't. Which you've maybe never consciously done, if I'm honest, so... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

There was nothing he could do to keep the disbelief out of his tone. He had expected her to dig at him further under the pretense of catching up or whatever else she had let Jayce believe. An apology, however short it may have been, was somewhat of a wild card he had no idea how to respond to. 

Mel gave him an unimpressed look from the corner of her eyes. "Is that so hard to accept?" she asked, haughtiness returning to her voice. 

He shrugged, non-committal, watching a flock of birds pass them by overhead, their cries a faint song in the breeze. 

"You don't like me," he stated.

"I don't," she confirmed, "but Jayce does. And I don't hate you enough to interfere with your relationship, either."

She had said something similar to him that day on the stairs. 

"You know I'm in love with him," he probed, carefully observing her reaction. 

There was a small twist to her mouth that she quickly smoothed out, the picture of perfect composure a heartbeat later. It was almost impressive. 

"That's your business," she finally acknowledged, turning her head to fully look at him for the first time. Her expression was polite but impassive. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you because you haven't tried to take him from me a single time, even though you spend all your time together. Jayce confirmed that for me."

His heart skipped a panicked beat at her last words, a cold shiver running down his back. Viktor felt faintly ill and it must have shown on his expression, as Mel shook her head, brows furrowed. 

"He doesn't know, don't worry."

She sounded weary and he swallowed down the relief that flooded through him like a wave. 

"I can be discreet, part of my trade. I only asked him about your friendship, working so close at the lab. He told me you break out into hives if he even tries to hug you more than once a week and that you barely talk about yourself. I figured you'd be a bit more straightforward if you truly wanted to seduce him."

Her admission helped him relax partially, although her words stung. He didn't think Jayce saw him as quite as much of a recluse. It was true he shied away from excessive physical contact and tried to avoid it where he could, but the other man had broken down his defenses a long time ago. If anything, his touch was the only form of closeness he allowed himself to crave and lean into, during rare moments of shared joy or drunken tiredness. 

If his skittish behavior had spared him the wrath of one Medarda, he was glad nonetheless that he had never given Jayce a sign of his affection. 

"Jayce is my partner," Viktor said. 

An annoyed roll of her eyes made it clear to him that Mel was getting increasingly fed up with hearing that phrase repeatedly. 

"That didn't escape me," she groaned, "in fact, it's all I ever hear from either of you. It's part of what made me think you were secretly involved, you know? No regular pair of friends bring up their indeterminable bond quite as much."

Shrugging, Viktor took a shuffling step forward, leaning heavily on his cane. His leg was growing tired and his balance sluggish in the piercing cold wind. 

"Other people's conventions are none of my concern," he answered. "It's what describes our relationship most accurately. Friends don't share a dream, in most cases. Friends don't dedicate their lives to the same purpose."

"How romantic."

He exhaled loudly. "Not in the slightest. Jayce and I are bound by our mission, and we value our work above all else. If that means we seem to be unusually close to each other, then that is simply a result of our inherent proximity as two halves of a functioning machine. You don't have to interpret additional meaning to our actions where there is none, and Jayce for his part is simply being cordial towards me. For my part, I would never risk the integrity of our working relationship for something as trivial as a one-sided attraction."

"You've given this much thought."

"I had a couple of years to realize where I stand. My work takes first place above all else."

There was a moment of silence between them, interrupted only by the shrieking of seagulls in the distance. 
They walked next to each other, side by side, watching Jayce and his mother up ahead, two dark silhouettes against the afternoon sun. Jayce was talking animatedly, moving his hands as if to illustrate a story he was telling her, and she was holding onto his elbow. 

"You're terribly dull," Mel said finally, but her tone was conciliatory. When Viktor turned to look at her, she was smiling, her face serene. She was beautiful, he acknowledged, when her expression was unguarded. He could picture them clearly: Jayce's broad shoulders and kind eyes, and her elegant features and golden-plated slender figure. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. 

"I accept your apology," Viktor told her then, no longer in any mood to argue with her. "As long as you don't try to separate us, you don't have to worry about any attempts on my side to sway Jayce. I wouldn't risk what we have for some wish of mine that he wouldn't understand, and he is far too gone on you to consider anybody else."

"He respects you a lot," she said, something like restrained bitterness in her voice. "I know he likes me, maybe he even thinks he loves me. But I'm not the person who understands him the most. When he goes on about all the incredible ways you're changing the world together, I can't follow. I feared that you would hold that above my head when I first met you."

Viktor snorted inelegantly. 

"What difference does it make which one of us understands him the most? There's only one he wants to sleep with, and it's not me."

Mel regaled him with an irritated look. "You're such a brute. No wonder he prefers my company."
She sniffed and began to walk faster, making him hobble to catch up with her.

"If I had been born with a bosom and less of a sunny personality, he would have picked me," Viktor huffed. 

"I beg your pardon," Mel hissed, scandalized, but there was an amused glint in her eyes that betrayed her true feelings. "He would have never in a million years sunk so low as to fraternize with the likes of you, and you know why? Because you're uncivilized, ill-mannered, your personality is not charming and you slouch."

"It's easy to speak ill of honest-working people when all of your family's money was blown on personality lessons to make you slightly more tolerable," he shot back, his accent especially harsh towards the end. 

Jayce and his mother had stopped a good distance ahead of them, waiting for them to catch up. 
Before they were within earshot, Mel looked back at him, the gems in her hair reflecting the setting sun.

"Sore loser," she said under her breath.

Viktor liked her a little more, then.  

They returned to the estate before dusk painted the sky in gloomy hues of violet. 

After a lot of bustling in the kitchen – and after receiving a proverbial slap on the wrist after attempting to help Ximena with her cooking – Viktor once again eyed the massive heaps of steaming food in front of him with a weak stomach, finishing whatever was loaded onto his plate out of politeness but feeling heavier and fuller than he had in years. 

He had often wondered what had made Jayce grow tall and strong whereas he had only grown spindlier and thinner with age, but the answer had presented itself to him casually and he wondered if he would have looked any different had he grown up in a warm house with a mother who stuffed him with coconut rice pudding, and pumpkin squash and lamb stew – and really, he couldn't take another bite or he would collapse. 

Across the table, Jayce fervently dug into another piece of something red and cheesy that was unidentifiable to him, while Mel wiped her mouth on an embroidered napkin that had Jayce's house initials. 

After dinner was cleared from the table, the three of them remained in their seats, too blissed out and exhausted to move. 

"I think mom was trying to kill us this year," Jayce groaned, his voice rough. 

Sometime later, or what felt like it could have been half a night, he dragged himself over to the cabinet and returned with a bottle of golden liquid. 

Viktor exchanged a furtive glance with Mel, who raised her eyebrows. 

"What's the occasion?" he asked, watching the way the light reflected off the rim of his glass. 

Jayce set the bottle down on the table and reached out in one swift motion to ruffle his hair, delighting in his indignant hiss. He then kissed Mel on the cheek and poured each one of them a glass. 

"This is to having my favorite people with me in one place."

He sounded so earnest that a strange sensation crawled its way up Viktor's throat. I love you, he wanted to say, or maybe it was simply the food making itself known. 

Half a bottle in and Jayce and Mel were fighting. 

Viktor was halfway leaning on the table, his face burning where it was buried in the crook of his arm. He felt dizzy and strangely like he wanted to step between the two of them and embrace them, stroke Mel's cheek, kiss Jayce on the mouth or something equally as ridiculous. 

All he knew for certain was that he didn't like their volume. 

"Shut up, both of you," he said, slurring the last syllable. 

They seemed to agree that ignoring him was the best solution, although Mel shot him an angry look before directing it towards Jayce again. 

She was still wholly unpleasant, a small semblance of normalcy he appreciated more than what had transpired between them ever since their talk. Liking her was an odd sensation. He didn't know where to put it. Previously, he had been entirely convinced that there wasn't a world in which Mel Medarda was anything akin to civil towards him, and he had been prepared to be nasty in return. It was the way things worked.

He had long forgotten who had started their argument, if Jayce had said something insignificant about her mother that had set her off or if she had made an insensitive comment about his projects. It didn't seem to matter to them, as their initial fight had devolved into an unrelated screaming match. Viktor hadn't seen either of them truly upset in his time of knowing them. 

"What would you know about my dreams?" Mel seethed, jabbing her finger on the table as if to emphasize her point. She was by far the most sober person among them but her anger seemed to rival Jayce's confused incoherence. "You don't have any idea of what I want my life to look like, or what is – What is good for me! That isn't something you can just decide because you think you understand me, or because it's what you would have done!"

Jayce was running both hands through his hair, thoroughly messing it up. "Because you never tell me about these things, Mel! How am I," he hiccuped and Mel's eye twitched dangerously, "how am I supposed to make it better for you when you don't tell me?" His voice went up an octave at the end, hurt evident in his tone.

"That is not your responsibility," Mel shot back, "making things better, that is not what I want you to do for me. That is not why we're together."

"Then why are we together?"

Viktor closed his eyes, burrowing deep into some state of existing as a rock, unhearing, unseeing, unperturbed. He didn't want to listen in on their conversation any longer. 

The bottle was empty, and the glasses cleaned off the table when he resurfaced. 

His head no longer swam and he breathed in deep, cinnamon lingering on his tongue. 

To his relief, Jayce no longer looked quietly heartbroken, singing a tune Viktor didn't recognize under his breath as he swayed in his seat. There was some movement to his right and Mel stepped into the room, no worse for wear, the light of the kitchen illuminating her from behind. 

There was something tangible in the air, like the absence of rain after a thunderstorm. The silence felt foreboding, though there was no particular indicator as to why. 

Light on her feet, Mel tiptoed over to Jayce and leaned in close, gently kissing his temple. Whatever end their fight had taken, they had resolved things.  
Then, perhaps because she was drunk, or perhaps as an apology for having him bear witness to their argument, she went over to Viktor's side and rested one soft palm on his shoulder, squeezing it a single time.

"I'm going to bed," she said, her voice low as if not to break the tentative peace. 

"Mel," Jayce blurted, his eyes opening at once, "can we... can we not talk about this?"

There was a sigh to Viktor's left and a small jingling noise as if the ornaments in her hair moved against each other as she shook her head. 

"We'll talk tomorrow. Good night."

She was off without another word. 

Viktor closed his eyes again, let his exhaustion lull him into a fitful sleep. 

The next time was was pulled from his slumber was when Jayce shook him awake. 

He was standing upright, leaning above his frame. His eyes were clear and focused. 

"It's getting late," he said as a way of explaining, chuckling then wincing as Viktor mumbled something rude under his breath. "My head hurts like crazy."

"Is your own fault," Viktor murmured, cracking his neck and willing the feeling to return to his limbs, his fingers. 

Jayce paused, head hanging low. He motioned for Viktor to scoot a little, sitting on the table, his thigh pressed against Viktor's arm. 

"Yeah, I know. I messed up massively, didn't I?"

His voice was scratchy, though Viktor couldn't say if it was due to the alcohol or the screaming. He sounded sufficiently sobered up, only his emotions still running rampant if his expression was any indication. 

"Mh," Viktor said, having no real knowledge of the events that had taken place after their second glass. 

Jayce seemed to take his non-answer as a confirmation and sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 
Something about him was different, he seemed more agitated than usual. Evidently, the fight and his drink had put him in a contemplative mood. 

Sitting up straighter, Viktor pushed his chair back so he could get a clear look at his face. 

There were shadows under his eyes that he hadn't noticed before, and his hair was splayed across his forehead, curling around his ears and sticking up in odd places. Sensing his attention on him, Jayce pushed himself forward until his legs were positioned on either side of his chair, fingers clutching the table's edge, facing Viktor directly. 

He looked tired, even lost, as he spoke. 

"I keep making these stupid mistakes that are entirely avoidable, but somehow I never realize what I did wrong until somebody tells me exactly what it was. It's almost like... everybody else knows something I don't. Like they have all these rules, and I-"

He leaned down, making an aborted gesture with his hand. 

"I don't agree with all of it, that's the point," he said, voice closer to a whisper. "I don't see why life has to be one way or the other. Why I have to act in a certain way, say these very specific phrases that people want to hear, all in order to be taken seriously. I don't see why I have to work for somebody else, or be nice just for the sake of earning sympathy points when I can't stand somebody. I want to be able to tell them that! I think we would all be happier if we just did the one thing we were put on this earth for, even if people think that it's a waste of time, or that it's not a worthwhile endeavor to pursue."

He was rambling, Viktor's mind whirring to catch his meaning. Despite his vague phrasing, there was an insistence to his tone that made him fearful to miss a single word. 

"I want Mel to see that, too, but she doesn't trust me with her dreams. Doesn't trust me much at all, which makes me feel like shit sometimes, even though I know she has her reasons. I'm just getting sick of seeing her be unhappy when the obvious solution is to stop caring what everybody else thinks her life should look like and live it like she wants to. But maybe that's me also projecting my ideas onto her. Maybe that's why I still feel like I barely know who she is. According to her, I'm too idealistic without understanding how the world works. A fraud. She's right, you know? I actually have no clue about half the things I say. I don't know how to improve lives, not really. I just pretend I do, because that's what everybody expects of me."

"Jayce," Viktor protested, "you know that's not–"

"I'm the exact person I'm telling myself not to be. I want others not to be afraid, but deep down I'm terrified of losing what I have. I'm terrified I won't amount to anything once the time comes to prove I am capable, and the thought of people depending on me makes me feel ill."

He was picking at his nail beds, a subconscious habit Viktor had observed him to fall back into whenever his deadlines were drawing nearer or his latest experiment had blown into shambles. 
Viktor was reeling, feeling like the world had turned upside down. How long had his partner kept his emotions bottled up inside? He felt like he had overlooked something crucial, like he had read through the same text a hundred times and still failed to identify the most important clue. 

"I don't think I can be what they want me to be," he finished weakly, not specifying which 'them' he was talking about. Perhaps it was nobody and he was referring to his own expectations. Perhaps it was everybody who had ever counted on him. 
Viktor couldn't picture anybody ever seeing Jayce for who he was – an brilliant inventor, a fiercely loyal friend, somebody who would change the world for a complete stranger if they only asked him to – and declaring him to be lacking in any aspect of his being. 

Unprompted, he shakily rose up from his seat and grasped Jayce's hand, willing him to stop his fretting and breathe for a moment. His hand twitched in his grasp and he held on tighter. 

"Don't," he said sternly, somehow all-encompassing. "Don't talk about yourself like that. It's idiotic."

Jayce shook his head and for a moment, he looked dangerously close to tears. Viktor was dumbfounded, completely out of his element. 

"You don't get it. You only know the person I want you to see, but I'm telling you, I'm not-"

"Jayce," Viktor interrupted him roughly, fingernails biting into the other's palm as he willed himself to be calm. Be a rock, be a fortress. "I've worked with you for the better part of almost two years and I've known you even longer. I know how you take your coffee, I know that you have a horrendous snoring habit, I know you have a tendency to litter that I'm not fond of. You're a messy eater, and you have no respect for personal space or even the faintest concept of what it means not to interrupt somebody when they're having a nap."

Gaping like a fish, Jayce opened his mouth in protest, but Viktor pinched the soft skin on his hand until he shut it reluctantly. 

"That being said," he continued, "I know you. Don't you dare say otherwise, or I'm going to think you're an even bigger moron than you're leading me to assume."

Releasing his partner's hands slowly but not stepping away just yet, he searched his eyes for a sign of resistance, finding only an open gaze and something akin to fear that made him swallow. 

"I'll say this only once so don't make me repeat it. There's not a person in this world who is more capable than you. There's nobody else I would trust my life with, and that means something. There's nobody who cares more than you do, and all your anxious worries are simply a result of wanting to do right by everyone. You don't have to be their savior if you don't want to be, but I have no doubt you could save this whole city, and more, if you put your mind to it. Because that is who you are, you don't give up. Somewhere in that incredibly thick head of yours you have made it your mission to stop at nothing if the end goal is helping others."

"And you don't have to adhere to their rules–"

"Fuck their rules," Jayce interjected, a smile in his voice.

"Ah, fuck their rules," Viktor repeated, struggling to copy his intonation, "and them, too, if they can't see you for who you are. You don't have to do anything right now, other than exist, and you won't let people down. There's nobody..." ...better than you. 

Upon exhaling, all the indignation left his body, packaged into words that he would be ashamed of ever speaking aloud the next morning. He couldn't take it back, and he couldn't bring himself to regret it if it meant Jayce saw even a fraction of everything he saw in him.

It felt as close to a confession as anything he had ever said. It was the farthest he would ever go. 

When he directed his gaze back to Jayce's face, he startled to find him already smiling back at him with an expression of open, raw admiration mirroring his inner voice. 

"Sometimes I think it's fate we met," he said, "but I don't believe in fate. I think I wanted you to find me, back then. I made it happen."

"That's stupid," Viktor retorted weakly. 

There was a hand on his thigh. When had it moved there?

"Perhaps," Jayce shrugged and then he was close, and his smile was hopeful, dangerous. His eyes were hooded but clear, and he smelled nothing like alcohol, only cinnamon. It was everywhere, all around Viktor. It was making his head hurt. 

"I think I've been stupid for quite a while now."

Viktor wasn't a fool. He could recognize the hand drawing patterns on his skin, knew what it meant. It was wrong. It was everything he had ever wanted to hear.
Jayce didn't like him like that. Jayce was leaning in, leaning closer. They were now the same height, with the other man still propped up on the table and Viktor standing, frozen like a deer in headlights. 

"Hey, V," Jayce said, all teeth. His breath ghosted against Viktor's lips. "Know something funny?"

In a split second, Viktor realized that Jayce was going to kiss him. There was simply no other natural progression. Everything they had done, from the moment Jayce had woken him up, led up to this. 
His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, almost painful. Distantly he wondered if there was another illness he hadn't known he carried that would explain the sensation of falling, of gasping for air. Something that would kill him before he had the chance to do something colossally stupid, or something brilliant.

Another realization hit him, then. Jayce was drunk. Jayce was his best friend, his partner. He was somebody he couldn't live without. If Jayce decided he hated him after that night, he would lose everything he had. Their lab, their work. There would be nobody helping the people of the undercity anymore, and his leg would never get better. 

Jayce didn't like him like that, except in this moment. It was an exception to an otherwise errorless rule. 

He needed him too much to sabotage what they had. 

Pretending not to notice the obvious disappointment written plain as day across Jayce's face, he withdrew, took one stumbling step back and then another. The back of his knee bumped against the chair.

The noise seemed to snap Jayce out of whatever booze-addled trance he had been in and suddenly he looked apologetic and a little embarrassed, though the gravity of what he had been about to do would soon catch up with him. 

Viktor didn't want to be in one room with him when it did. He wanted to be somewhere else entirely, to pretend he had never seen that expression cross his partner's face. 

"You're drunk," he forced himself to say as placatingly as he could manage. "Go to sleep."

Before Jayce could say another word that could reel him back in, Viktor fled, stumbling up the stairs to his guest bedroom without his cane. He couldn't go back and retrieve it. Something terrifying had started in the living room, and he felt it spread across the entire house as he stood with his back against the door, ringing for breath. 

Chapter Text

Jayce woke up around noon on the second day of solstice celebrations with a furiously throbbing head.

Sluggishly, he lifted his head from where his face had been smushed against a striped throw pillow. He must have been out cold as soon as he closed his eyes, having a vague recollection of stumbling up the stairs to his bedroom sometime after midnight, too tired to change out of his regular clothing. Drool had dried along the right side of his cheek. His neck and chest stung where the buttons of his shirt had dug into the sensitive skin whenever he had shifted in his sleep. 

The curtains had been drawn but sunlight filtered through the fabric. He strained his hearing for any noise from downstairs but the rushing of blood in his ears drowned out most sounds. 

For a moment, Jayce allowed himself to breathe into his bedsheets, becoming increasingly aware of the crick in his neck and a stale taste in his mouth. He felt like he had been chewed up and spit out, most likely nursing the worst hangover he had experienced since his first week of university. The liquor had been an old gift he had been saving for special occasions and it had more than done the trick. 

Pushing himself up with tired arms, figments of the previous night flooded his head. Groaning, Jayce recalled his argument with Mel, the feeling of her hands on his chest as she pushed him away in anger. She had told him she didn't need his help and he had –

"Then why are we together?"

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and willing the numbness to abate, he rubbed at his eyes furiously. He had acted like a complete moron. He hadn't meant to upset her, not at first. Having Viktor and Mel with him, at the same table, sharing smiles and secretive glances, had felt like a victory.  Things could only get better, he had told himself, drunk on happiness. Mel's hand had been soft against his own, and Viktor had smiled at them across the table, drowsy. He had wanted to reach out and touch him, too.

It had felt like a new beginning, something Jayce couldn't entirely explain, but the truth of it reverberated in every fiber of his being. He had discovered the equation and now he only needed to solve it. Mel had been quieter than usual, tapping her nails against her glass, and suddenly he wanted to tell her that he knew how to help her. He had cracked the code to happiness. It was much easier than he had ever thought possible, and it only required a small leap of faith. Mel had disagreed. She had looked at him with cold eyes and told him that he barely knew her at all. 

She had been right, as she usually was. It wasn't his place to tell her how to fix her problems, not when she had carefully avoided sharing them with him. Still, her reaction and subsequent dismissal of his efforts to set things right stung. 

Once the initial memories had returned to him, there was no stopping the flood of images that followed. 

There was Mel in the doorway, headed to bed without a second glance, leaving him alone at the table. Flickering shadows in his periphery as the last of the embers burned out in the fireplace. The rush of water, droplets running down his neck and forming small wet patches on his socks as he leaned over the kitchen sink, drinking from the tap. 

Then, unmistakably, there was Viktor. 

Jayce remembered sitting opposite him and staring at his sleeping form while the world faded into nothingness around them. His hands had itched to smooth out the wrinkles of his shirt, brush a stubborn curl of his hair out of his eyes, maybe interlink their fingers. He had chewed on his bottom lip until it hurt. There was so much he had wanted to say, and Viktor was the smartest person he knew. He had woken him up to ask him for advice, even to just hear his voice. If there was somebody he felt safe confiding in, it was his partner, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be honest with him. Viktor needed to know the truth, and telling him had felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had held his hands, had listened patiently just like Jayce knew he would. He had reassured the part of him that had torn itself to pieces over Mel's words and his own doubts, had soothed and effortlessly silenced his worries, and in return, Jayce had – 

He felt his heart starting to beat faster, recalling the rest of their conversation. 

His hand on Viktor's thigh. Leaning closer, leaning in. It had come as natural as breathing to him. He had thought himself especially brilliant for thinking of the ultimate way to express his gratitude and overwhelming adoration, much truer to his intent than words could ever be. It would make him complete, he had realized. Viktor had been close, and his mouth had looked plush and inviting, lips slightly parted. Jayce had never kissed a man and he had wondered with nervous excitement what it would feel like, taste like. He had wanted to test and probe, explore all possible outcomes. It wouldn't be just any man, he had told himself, it would be his partner. His partner, whose eyes had locked with his, molten gold and widening in what could have been surprise or anticipation. 

His partner, who had stood frozen in shock, unresponsive while Jayce had breathed his air, ready to close the gap between them.

His partner, who had staggered back –

Jayce's stomach lurched and he stumbled to his feet, rushing for the bathroom. He remained keeled over the toilet until he was spitting nothing but saliva, feeling supremely sorry for himself in the company of his own thoughts. 

While he was scrubbing at his hands with frantic fervor, he wanted to hit himself over the head for his actions. 

There was no denying what he had been about to do. What he would have done, had Viktor not stopped him. 

He had tried to kiss his partner. 

A mortified voice in his head scrambled to come up with a justification. He had been drunk, yes, but not to the point of confusion. The alcohol had heightened his emotions, but he had been in full control of his senses by the end of the night. He vividly remembered the hurt and rising guilt over his fight with Mel, just as he recalled the moment of clarity before he had leaned in. It had crossed his mind like the lighting of a candle in an otherwise dark room, a flash of realization that for once, he didn't bury with the rest of everything he didn't like to think about. The more he had allowed himself to contemplate the possibility, the more he had wanted it. 

Cold water splashed on his face as he stared at his warped reflection in the sink. 

He wasn't sure how to proceed. His head was a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings that circled back to the same moment. Above all else, he needed to talk to Viktor, needed to explain himself before the other man arrived at the wrong conclusion. The question of what exactly he could say that would make "I wanted to find out what your lips taste like" sound any better was something he could tackle later. There were two outcomes to their conversation, both of which he was more than glad to live with. Viktor would either be reasonably put off and expect an apology from him that he would provide, or he would try to let him down gently in that typical cagey way of his, upon which Jayce could reassure him that there was nothing he needed to worry about, as he wasn't really in love with him. It would be the single most uncomfortable endeavor of his life, but he owed his partner that much.  

First, he needed to get Viktor alone. 

Rehearsing his speech in his head like a mantra, Jayce hadn't prepared for the possibility of a third outcome, which was to find Viktor, Mel and his mother already waiting for him downstairs. 

"Hello," Viktor said like it was any other day. 

There was nothing accusatory in his voice and he gave Jayce a quick once-over before busying himself with his sweet potatoes. 

"Um, hi," said Jayce and tried not to stare as he pulled out a chair across from him. 

Lunch was another colorful spread of roasted meat and vegetables, tamales of all kinds, steaming brothy stew and heaps of sweet bread that his mother had conjured seemingly out of thin air. By force of habit, Jayce loaded his plate to the brim but had to force himself to swallow more than three bites, nearly burning his tongue with hot tea as he tried to wash down the lingering taste. He bumped Viktor's foot under the table by accident and felt his throat tighten. It was the alcohol, he told himself, refusing to lift his gaze.

Ximena threw him a worried look as he set down his fork, refilling his cup.

"Are you not feeling well, Jayce? You're looking a little pale."

He shook his head as if to emphasize that No, he was doing just fine, only to wince as the pounding against his skull worsened with the movement. 

"He had too much to drink last night," Mel answered for him, cutting into her lamb tenders with precision. 

Jayce had nearly forgotten about her promise to talk with him come morning, and he glanced at her with no small sense of shame. She briefly paused and studied his face with an unreadable expression before returning to her food. 

Taking a smaller sip from his cup, Jayce tried to hide his burning face. 

Lunch passed in much the same manner, although there were some new developments excluding the obvious. Whether it was his paranoia running rampant or not, it was almost like everyone was aware of what he had done the night before, and as a result, had decided to exclude him from the conversation apart from the occasional nod in his direction. It was an odd sight to see Viktor and Mel immersed in casual discussion of a topic he had failed to pay attention to, but faced with the gravity of his situation, it only worsened his apprehension. Viktor wouldn't have told her, he thought. They weren't friends in the technical sense. 
Jayce picked at his food until it went cold, pushing the remnants around on his plate until his mother took away his cutlery, placing a hand on his arm and telling him to rest some more before he had to head home. He helped clean the table as best as he could, anything to avoid sitting next to the two people he had managed to wrong in the span of a few hours. 

On his way back from the kitchen, he paused to breathe, trying to calm the frantic beat of his heart. 

It was not a big deal, simply a humiliating situation he had to resolve as quickly as he could. 

"Hey, V," he started, the words immediately getting stuck in his throat as he remembered saying the exact sentence under a different set of circumstances, and the ghost of Viktor's breath against his lips. 

Viktor glanced up at him from where he had been folding his napkin into something that resembled a crane, and Jayce couldn't look away. 
His eyes were soft and tired, deep shadows standing out against his pale skin like he hadn't slept all night. His hair was unrulier than usual and Jayce itched to smooth it out before he could stop the thought. He was still Viktor, even though the world had turned on its axis, but the light seemed to hit him differently now, or maybe it was the first time Jayce had paid it any mind. 

"You said that already," he stated after a minute of Jayce opening and closing his mouth without any noise. One drag of his slender finger gave his crane another wing. 

Hey, V, his mind repeated as if on autopilot, Hey, V, know something funny? 

"Are you not going to say hi to me?" Mel asked, picking at her fingernails. 

- something funny?

"Hi, Mel," Jayce said, apologetic. His head felt ready to combust. "Viktor, do you have a moment?"

There was no missing the minute tensing of the other man's shoulders, but the shrug he gave him was apathetic. 

"I don't see why not. Would you prefer to talk about it here, or?"

"Alone, if you don't mind," Jayce grit out, forcing his jaw to unclench. He was making a scene. Mel cast him a questioning glance. 

Sighing, Viktor abandoned his crane, leaving it to flop onto its unfinished side. He pushed himself up from his chair with some hesitance and motioned towards the hallway. Jayce nodded. 

"Care to go for a walk?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot, keeping his voice light. 

Viktor mustered him with some skepticism and threw a glance at the door. "Is that truly necessary?"
With a pang, Jayce realized his partner was wary of him.

"Please?" he said, fighting to keep the desperate edge out of his tone. His nails were biting into the skin of his palms behind his back. 

Exasperated, Viktor retrieved his coat from the hanger and sat down on the stairs, fastening his boots. 
Jayce let out a small sigh of relief and grabbed his own winter jacket, his carefully selected words replaying incessantly in his head. 

It was when the door shut behind them and they stepped out into a blindingly white landscape that the lump in his throat abated. 

"Very well," Viktor said, sliding his hands into a pair of woolen gloves, "Talk then."

Piltover's blue rooftops were covered under a thick blanket of snow as they trudged along the river, the same route they had taken the previous day. Viktor's cane clacked against the concrete as he stared across the open water, his coat and scarf billowing in the wind. 

After a small moment of ringing with himself, Jayce allowed himself to look and he found it difficult to stop.

His partner's profile was stoic, facing the other way. Jayce imagined the line of his jaw, the furrow of his brows. He thought of his nose, and his tired eyes. He knew Viktor's face like the back of his hand, and could pinpoint the exact spots of his beauty marks, one by his eye and the other above the corner of his mouth. 

It was easier to picture that face staring back at him than having to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, and felt his mouth dry. 

Viktor chuckled drily, the sound getting carried away by the breeze. "What for?"

"I was drunk," Jayce said, a non-explanation. He winced, then added "I almost kissed you."

There was a sound like a soft intake of breath, and Viktor stopped, his mouth a thin line. 

"Did you mean it?"

Yes, Jayce thought, unbidden. The cold air had turned his fingers numb. He had forgotten his gloves at the estate. "Not, uh, not really." 

"Then it doesn't matter much, does it?"

Viktor shook his head, limping past him again. That was supposed to be the end of it, and Jayce should have been glad. He balled his hands into fists, then unclenched them around the phantom touch of warm fingers against his skin. The nagging in the back of his head didn't let up. 

"You're my buddy," he said, catching up with Viktor in one big step, "My partner. I care for you."

"Hm."

"I think, maybe, I get confused sometimes. Most people don't spend all of their time together. It's unusual, 's what I've been told."

"Do you want to work alone more?"

"That's not it," Jayce sighed, breath fogging. He made a small frustrated sound, halfway between a growl and a whine. "I'm just trying to say, it's possible that my brain has gotten the wrong impression. I don't even see Mel that often, and she's my... she's..."

"Your girlfriend?" Viktor offered and stared at him for an uncomfortable second, his gaze incredulous. 

"I like her," he blurted out, feeling awfully dense in the silence that followed. "It's not my fault we both have busy schedules, but she's the one I want to kiss more. Touch more, too – You, uh, get the gist. Having you both here, at the same time, it's mixing things up. I don't want things to be weird between us, because it's not entirely my fault my brain is malfunctioning for some reason."

It wasn't quite what he had been meaning to say, the original script something more along the lines of Viktor, I hope I didn't inconvenience you. Whatever drunk me did does not reflect on how I feel about our friendship. Please accept my apology and let's never speak of this again. 
There wasn't a good reason as to why he felt the burning need to clarify his thought process, but his tongue acted of its own accord. 

Viktor blinked, processing his words. 

"Jayce," he said slowly, "I'm not mad. I know you were drunk and probably upset."

That's what it was, the small embarrassed part of Jayce's brain cried out. I wanted someone to comfort me and you were the next best person.
It was a wonderfully convenient excuse, but the words sounded hollow when he tried to repeat them. He hadn't thought much of Mel at all when he had tried to kiss Viktor. When he had leaned in close, it hadn't been her face he pictured. 

"That's good," he said, "Nothing against you, V, but I don't like you like that."

"I'm well aware–"

"I don't," Jayce repeated, one step faster, then two. He was in front of him before he had time to question his own actions. Up close, Viktor's nose was flushed pink. He tried to evade him but Jayce blocked his path. His brows wrinkled in unamused impatience as he glanced up at him. 

"Do you think kissing you once would solve it?" he asked, a laugh threatening to bubble up as soon as he realized what he had suggested.  

It was like he was possessed. The question had formed without him ever admitting to thinking about it. It was the exact opposite of what he was supposed to say. Surely some code of conduct existed somewhere that he had disregarded about a hundred times in the last 24 hours.

Then again, perhaps his partner would know the answer. Between the two of them, he had always seemed more self-assured in his emotions.

"Do try to think for yourself," Viktor said flatly. There was a small quiver in his mouth as he exhaled, clearly not in the mood to entertain Jayce's crude experiments. He tapped his cane against the other man's leg, pushing past him while keeping him at a distance. 

Jayce caught up with him, walking at arm's length, a pang of disappointment catching him by surprise.

"I don't like you like that," he repeated a third time with the sudden need to sound convincing, putting as much conviction behind the words as he could. 

His voice had come out harsher than intended because Viktor flinched back as if he had struck him, before shaking his head. 

"You don't need to let me down. I wasn't the one who tried something."

Then why do things feel so off between us? he wanted to ask, the question on the tip of his tongue. If it's not me that has changed, and it isn't you, why does it feel so different? 

The words hung heavy between them as they reached the bottom of a bridge that connected both sides of the river. The wind howled as it passed beneath the structure, forming wisps of wailful song. A narrow stairway connected the riverbanks and the streets above.

"I think we should head back now," Viktor said, drawing his scarf tighter around himself. His voice had taken on a colder tone. 

Wordless, Jayce nodded and fell back into step with him, climbing the metal stairway first before extending a hand toward Viktor. The other man batted it away with a flick of his wrist and gripped the railing in support, pulling himself up. 
When they had reached the top, the roar of engines on the other side had gotten louder, the rush of water a muted sound now that they were at street level. 

Their way back to the estate was tense and Jayce had to bite his tongue to keep himself from vomiting unhelpful words. 

He had tried to explain himself as best as he could. The feeling of guilt and having dug himself into an ever deeper whole would lessen as soon  as they were back at the lab, where they would soon forget about his misstep. They had a routine, a way of becoming one mind and one body that allowed them to think and act in sync. He had done his best to make sure that harmony didn't dissipate. 

No matter how much he stared at the back of Viktor's head, the ends of his scarf tickling his face almost like a caress.

There was much talking to be done outside of his discussion with Viktor. 

"I was wrong to accuse you of meddling," Mel said, moving her queen on the board and placing Jayce's king in check. 

Frowning, he mulled over his plan of defense. "No, you were right. I overstepped and tried to pretend like I had more knowledge of your situation than you do. I just..." Moving his king to a different square, he glanced up, sensing Mel's attentive eyes on him. "I feel like we rarely talk about anything that isn't safe, or surface level. Don't you think we should be able to trust each other with that?"

Mel sighed, contemplating her next move. She had changed into something warmer, shawl covering her shoulders. The fireplace made a hissing sound as one of the logs collapsed. It was early afternoon. 

"I realize this is... unconventional," she said, placing her bishop in a line of attack. "And I do trust you, Jayce. But there are some things I'm not fond of talking about, and I need some time to figure out where I stand."

"Will you ever be ready to let me in?" Jayce asked tentatively while reaching for his knight.
Even after months of knowing Mel, having shared her bed and her time, he sometimes felt like he was talking to two different people. There was Mel, on most days, who was generous, and clever, and so much above everyone that he wondered why she had ever set her sights on somebody like him. She was impossible not to be in love with, in some ways. 
There was also the part of her that was a Medarda before anything else. He thought he saw glimpses of it, whenever he pushed her too far. Some part of her had been warded off, hidden behind layers of memories. She guarded it fiercely, lashing out at anybody who tried to pry it from her. 

"Maybe tomorrow," Mel said, eyes lighting up in recognition of an opening. In one swift move, she placed her queen with an air of finality. "Maybe never. Checkmate."

Jayce hung his head in defeat. 

No matter the unresolved tension still evident in bouts of awkward silence that used to be companionable, Jayce felt relieved to be back at the lab. 

Viktor and he had come to an unspoken agreement not to mention anything that had transpired between them and focus on their big project, which was coming along swiftly. 

The bionic prosthetic had an almost lifelike appearance once Viktor was done coating it in a thin sheet of metal, proudly stepping back to admire his work. Jayce clasped him on the shoulder, watching him smile in satisfaction underneath his safety helmet, and it was almost like he had never wondered about the feel of his lips at all. 

By the end of the year, they were a couple of days ahead of schedule and Jayce spent his free hours jotting down notes for his presentation, head swimming with taglines.

"All hands on deck for your future," he said, pacing along the length of their workbench, "What do you think?"

"Eh," Viktor said, not bothering to hide his disapproval. "Could be shorter."

"Come on, V," Jayce groaned, swiveling around and giving his partner a disappointed glare. "Shorter? There's barely anything coherent I can scrape together as a full sentence. People won't understand what the slogan even refers to."

"Craft your own future," Viktor suggested, yawning. His back curved as he stretched, the movement oddly feline. Jayce coughed into his hand. 

There was a knock at their door that made them exchange a surprised glance. Viktor called out in confirmation and the door creaked open, Sky's head poking through the gap. 

"The volunteers are here," she said, a nervous edge to her voice. 

Viktor straightened his back, turning to face the entrance. "Let them in."

They were in their final phase of testing, should all go well. Viktor had insisted they use somebody from the undercity as a willing participant in their experiment, having asked around on one of his dubious trips down to the former lanes. 
He had found a handful of subjects that he deemed a good fit, inviting them to their lab for introductions and the first compatibility tests. 

Sky ushered the volunteers inside and flipped a page in her notebook, gesturing toward the first person, a small blond boy. 

"Participant A, do you want to tell us a little bit about yourself?" she said gently.

The volunteers had chosen not to give them their real names, something Viktor had accepted without further questioning. According to him, helping Pilovian scientists in their shady human experiments was not exactly a badge of honor the further south you went. Most of those assembled had only agreed to it after Viktor had promised them a hefty sum. 

The small boy told them he had lost his arm in a bridge collapse, then the next participant, an older bearded man, told them he had used to work in the mines before they had been decently regulated, listing a lack of safety structures as the main cause for his accident. 
Viktor's face darkened and twisted the more he went into detail and Jayce felt much the same sense of anger and repulsion. He had heard stories, whispered rumors passed down from people who had lived through the early days of unity. A first-hand account from somebody whose body had paid the cost for Piltover's apathy cut deeper. 

These were the people they would be helping, he thought, a silent promise to succeed. 

The last participant cut an imposing figure, her single remaining arm strong and muscular even underneath her cloak. 

"Explosion," she said simply, her voice gruff. 

Viktor nodded in sympathy. 

"My sincere condolences," he told her, moving to stand in front of the group. "We've asked you here so we can help improve the lives of people such as yourself with our technology." He gestured towards the bionic arm on the table. "To start off, we will need to run some tests. The procedure isn't invasive, but we built the prototype with a specific match in mind, someone with the necessary power to control it."

He threw Jayce a brief glance from the corner of his eye. 

"If there are no further questions, I want to thank you all for coming." He clasped his hands, excitement barely restrained in his voice. "Let's begin."

Chapter Text

In the end, it was Participant D who proved to be most promising, getting the arm to respond to her commands almost instantly. 

They watched as she flexed the metal fingers experimentally, running a hand along the smooth metal exterior in reluctant awe. 

"Fascinating," Viktor said, circling her with watchful eyes. He handed her a steel plate from the table and stepped back in anticipation. "Now, if you would be so kind–"

Before he had finished speaking, the woman had crushed the plate in her palm, opening her fist to reveal a compressed ball with no signs of damage to the prosthetic. 

Involuntarily, Jayce's eyes locked with his partner's across the room. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, months of diligent research and calibrations finally amounting to something great, something that would bring about positive change. 
Viktor's chest moved in a deep intake of breath. He nodded at Jayce, the movement nearly imperceptible. Jayce imagined closing the distance between them, shaking him, gripping the back of his neck–

"Excellent," said Viktor, tearing his gaze away and sliding up to the woman, studying the point of connection between the prototype and her shoulder. "Did you mean to apply so much force?"

She huffed a small laugh, letting the steel piece drop to the floor. "Sure did. This thing is a real killer."

"Not at all," Viktor said firmly, disconnecting the wires that held the arm in place with nimble skillfulness. "It is meant to help save lives, down in the mines. Give people the chance to drag themselves out of difficult situations." Placing both hands on the upper half of the bionic arm, he pulled and it detached smoothly in one go, fingers uncurling. "There are some wounds even science can't heal, but it is our job to make sure the scars fade over time." 

The woman's gaze was trained on the prosthetic, muscles in her real arm working as she adjusted to the feeling. 

"You're a weird guy," she told Viktor, who set the arm back down on the table, shrugging without trying to deny her words. Turning to Jayce, she mustered him with all the fondness of someone who had just concluded that he was not worth any trouble. "Him, too."

"Part of the job description," Jayce said, raising his eyebrows. 

"Same time next week," Viktor murmured, not bothering with a reply. He was already scribbling on a sheet of paper. 

The lab was mostly empty, the other participants having been sent out after their assessment. Sky waited patiently at the door, opening it as their final volunteer waved at the two inventors half-heartedly, grunting a reply. 

She paused at the threshold, turning around as if there was something urgent she had forgotten to say. 

"Sevika," she stated, her voice irritable. 

Jayce stared at her for a second. "What was that?"

"My name," she said, a mean curl to her lip that faded when she looked at Viktor. "I want one of those." She nodded in the direction of the prototype. "No matter what I have to do."

Viktor shot her a quick smile over his shoulder, waving a pair of metal tongs. "We'll see what we can do about that."

You can't promise her that, Jayce wanted to protest as the woman gave him a satisfied look. Their prototypes weren't nearly ready for mass production. They would need to go through a process of deciding who was eligible – and trustworthy enough – to receive a duplicate, and they would have to make a couple of crucial adjustments. 

But Viktor seemed happy, more elated than on most days, judging by the playful tapping of his fingers against the table as he switched between tools, running a hand through the short hair at the base of his neck. There was a warm feeling in Jayce's gut, like he had swallowed a tiny piece of the sun. 

The reprimand died on his tongue as he settled back into his chair. They only needed more time to perfect their project, and all at once, he realized that they had plenty. 

With the turn of the year, Piltover blossomed anew with fresh vigor, contests and events springing up at every corner. 

Jayce received his scores a few weeks after the solstice and nearly jumped at the number of "Outstanding"s he received. Heimerdinger had congratulated him on his thesis one day after class and told him he was just what Piltover needed, someone young with great potential and a drive to reinvent old concepts.

It was the type of talk that normally gave him a mixed reaction of accomplishment and muted dread, doubts souring the praise.
What if this is the height of my work, he thought, and a voice that didn't sound like his own answered I have no doubt you could save this whole city if you put your mind to it. That is who you are, you don't give up. 

Viktor's speech hadn't left his head, and no matter how much he tried to be grateful and appreciative of his growing awareness of their bond, it had opened up a whole new box of problems. 

During lectures, he wracked his brain for ideas that would bring his final presentation along, willing the hours to fly by. The second his lectures ended, he was out of his seat, practically breaking into a run until he reached the lab. 

He told himself it was the most effective use of his time, even as he paused in front of the door to catch his breath and hide any sign of his hurry. It had nothing to do with Viktor, or the inexplicable desire to follow his every move and hang onto his words like they were a lifeline. 
The lab had always been his place of refuge. It was easier to function away from the prying eyes of his classmates. The clock on the wall was a steady companion that didn't distract him from his studies as he counted down the hours and minutes until there was a faint jingling of keys and the door opened. 

Viktor was preoccupied with his assistant duties most afternoons and only arrived at the lab in the late evening. 

He made no comment on Jayce's new habit of overzealous punctuality, dismissing it as simply another whim he didn't have the energy to examine any closer. 

Their routine had changed a little since the summer. Instead of spending every night going over their calculation, adding and erasing findings on their board, they now pushed the limits of their invention whenever Sevika dropped by, running tests on how much force the material could withstand. 

She was a less than enthusiastic participant and talked to them no more than what was necessary – rather, she conversed with Viktor and Sky in short, nondescript sentences and sent Jayce sporadic dark looks whenever he tried to butt in – but she was reliable, showing up at the same time each week and complying with their demands without hesitation.

"Don't you think there's something strange about her?" he asked one late evening after she had left.

Viktor raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged. "Sure."

"We barely know who she is," Jayce pushed, sweeping the floor at Viktor's insistence. "I'm not saying I don't trust her, but she could be lying and we'd be letting her in on our projects without a clue."

"She's from the undercity. As am I. We all have our secrets," Viktor said, setting down his cane and leaning one hip against the table. He gave Jayce a sly look as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, soot leaving dark smudges behind on his skin.

"You barely knew me when we decided to work together."

"That's different," Jayce protested weakly, admitting defeat. He couldn't explain to Viktor that he had trusted him the moment he met him, for no other reason than the fact that the other man had believed in him when no one else did. The possibility of his betrayal had never crossed his mind, and years later, the thought was nearly laughable. They had been strangers who had relied on one another and Viktor had never given him reason to regret his decision. 

"Her past isn't interfering with the outcome of our experiments," Viktor stated, final. 

"You're right. I shouldn't have accused her of hiding something."

Jayce rolled his shoulder and returned the broom to their supply closet, settling next to Viktor against the table. He had rolled up his sleeves and Viktor had foregone his jacket. As a result, their bare arms touched as Jayce shifted. 

"Ever Piltover's golden boy," Viktor joked, exhaling through his nose. 

The dark blot on his forehead looked vaguely like a heart. 

Jayce clamped his fingers against the edge of the table. He could picture his knuckles turning white. "I'm lucky I have you to keep me in check, huh?" he retaliated, his voice too soft to be a quip. 

Viktor looked at him strangely for a second, an amused twist to his mouth, saying nothing. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back in blissful exhaustion, the line of his neck long and pale. 

Don't do that, Jayce wanted to tell him. 

He kept his mouth shut, forcing his eyes away.

Viktor was trouble, something he had come to realize the more time he spent with the other man. 

He could be insufferable and ill-tempered when he had reached his limit of social interaction, retreating into a state of self-isolation and only replying with small sounds or dismissive gestures. Jayce much preferred his days of being a prickly recluse over the alternative.
Whether it was due to the success of their initial testing or the prospect of another year filled with discoveries, Viktor had taken to smiling more around Jayce, and it was doing truly awful things to his heart. 

Kind wasn't a word he'd have used to describe Viktor in his early months of knowing him. Withdrawn, maybe. Gloomy. Sarcastic. 

Once he had figured out what the underlying factor in Viktor's positive interactions was, it was hard to miss it. He was gentle with Sky whenever she needed his help, listening intently to whatever problems she was facing and offering her feasible solutions whenever he could. What's more, he never belittled her, taking care to let her come up with her own conclusions. 

The same tenderness applied to most other Zaunites he brought into their lab. It was almost funny to see him pat Sevika on the shoulder occasionally, acting reserved and professional to make her more comfortable, but offering small affirmations wherever he could. 

After catching him trying to sneak out one early morning before the sun had risen, Viktor confessed to visiting their former participants in the undercity whenever he could find the time, giving them small amounts of money to buy food and medicine although they didn't technically work for them anymore. 

Generous. Warm-hearted. Caring. 

Jayce found himself observing his little gestures more than he truly focused on his studies, memorizing the way his partner held a pen, how he lost himself in his tasks and seemed to function on autopilot, never straying from whatever he had set his mind on. How his mouth shaped Jayce's name. How he drank his coffee, disgustingly sweetened with spoonfuls of sugar, or how he seemed to struggle with certain words that sounded foreign on his tongue until he practiced them more.

Viktor had consumed his thoughts like a puzzle he was set on solving. 

Only when he glanced up from his notes one day in class to find small doodles of his partner's face, absentmindedly scribbled onto scraps of paper he had torn from his worksheets, staring back at him from where he had shoved them between the pages of his book, did Jayce realize that he desperately needed to sort himself out. 

"I tried to kiss Viktor," he said to Mel the next time he saw her, the words coming out in a rush. 

She paused, her cup halfway tipped against her lips.

"Oh," she said, voice slightly strained. "Do you... want to break up?"

She lowered her drink as she searched his face for any sign of confirmation. She didn't seem angry, but her expression was guarded. They hadn't talked much since school had started again. Jayce had missed her during moments when he needed somebody to vent his frustrations to, or when he had walked home alone after class and wondered when they had stopped spending their afternoons together.
He had waited for Mel to come to him with a clear decision on whether or not she wanted to have him around, and as such, he had been the one to seek her out when she hadn't.

She had always been better at keeping her thoughts to herself than him, and he needed her advice more than he wanted to preserve his dignity. 

"I don't know," he said honestly, and for the first time, he felt like he meant it. 
A part of him loved Mel, something he had known ever since he met her. Chasing after her had been a game of never knowing where he truly stood, and it had felt exhilarating the first few months. Over time, it had turned into a rift between them and he had run out of bricks to build a bridge across, tired of trying to mend what only one of them considered broken. 

His mind was tearing itself apart the more he thought about his attempts to set things right between them. He needed certainty, something Mel couldn't give him. She wanted him to be a shoulder to cry on, someone who didn't ask or care to see her get better. He hadn't been as honest or supportive as he should have been, despite his best efforts, and he couldn't get a hold of her no matter how much he tried to understand her motives. She kept slipping through his fingers like sand.

Viktor was someone he could hold onto. No matter how much he pulled, they were linked. 

Where Mel was the sun, someone he could orbit but never truly reach, Viktor was the moon, an unwavering presence at his side.

"I'm confused," he admitted, partially to himself. "I didn't know I had these feelings when we first started dating. It never crossed my mind until after our fight, and then I kept remembering all these smaller things that seemed like obvious signs the more I thought about it."

Mel narrowed her eyes at him. 

"When did you realize?"

"About three weeks ago," Jayce whispered. "When we were all staying at my family's house, something clicked into place. I wasn't sure what it was, so I tried to wait it out, but it's. It's there."

His cheeks burned at the admission. 

Mel had seen through him months before he ever spared it much thought. If you can convince yourself of that, maybe you can convince me, too, she had told him what seemed like ages ago. He couldn't. There wasn't a world in which he could pretend that his feelings for Viktor were nothing more than affection for a lab partner, or a friend. Not anymore. 

"Does he know?"

When he glanced up, Mel had taken a sip of her drink, once more collected after a brief moment of shock. 

"Uh," Jayce said, "no. I had the realization in class and immediately called you. It didn't feel fair to have these thoughts and keep you in the dark, not after you were right about the whole thing."

He took a lackluster bite of the sandwich he had ordered and set it back down, appetite fading. 

They had used to come to this cafe often, after the summer. It was Mel's unofficial favorite, although she insisted that she didn't keep a list. He had thought he could fall in love with her amidst the smell of freshly ground cocoa and the sunlight casting her features in a golden light. 

"That's surprisingly mature of you," Mel said. Her fingers were curled around her cup, warming her palms. 

There was much Jayce wanted to tell her, and very little he could bring himself to say. 

"I'm sorry," was what he settled on, the words empty and meaningless even to his own ears. I didn't think I'd ever get to this point. I don't want to lose you. I'm scared and I don't know what to do, but I need you. I feel like a horrible person. You were always so much smarter than me. 

"I think I hated you, for a while, because you were so unaware of what you were doing."

There was a rustle of fabric as Mel leaned back in her chair, clearing her throat.

"I think I hate you a little, right now." 

Jayce nodded, mouth twisting. She wasn't the only one. 

"But part of the blame is on me," Mel sighed, coldness draining from her voice as she sagged against the back of her seat. "I suspected something was up between the two of you long before we ever became a couple. You didn't seem to be any wiser after I brought it up, so I thought I could..."

She laughed, interrupting herself. It was a sad little sound. Jayce wanted to hold her, tell her he hadn't meant what he said, but he owed her the full truth. 

"I thought if I played my cards right, you'd forget you ever had these feelings. I thought I could replace him in your head."

Rain pattered against the window. Mel looked at him for a long moment, her eyes impossibly green. 

"You were only ever meant to be a distraction."

Jayce swallowed, hurt welling up in his chest. "Why did you choose me? I'm sure there were plenty of people who could have given you more of their time."

"None who had such a promising future ahead of them," Mel said and sounded apologetic. 

Piltover's golden boy, his head echoed. Star pupil. The next big thing, the Academy's brightest. 
It was all hollow praise. 

"The truth is," Mel continued, "I never fully escaped my name. My mother taught me at a young age that familiarity, trust, even affection are all means to weaken the spirit. If you want to succeed in this world, you have to use them to your merit, instead of letting others exploit you. You have to be careful who you welcome into your life, and they can never know where they stand. They can't be deadweight you carry around, they have to have something you can gain in exchange. Your future was what you could give me in return. A scientist of infallible reputation, someone useful to have wrapped around my fingers. It's a horrible way to think of somebody, but it's how I discern between people. It's all I've ever known."

She turned her face towards the window and the rainy street outside, watching colorful shapes pass them by. 

"I like you, Jayce," she said softly, "but there's something that's preventing me from trusting you. Perhaps it is better this way. I don't think I'm much of a good fit for anyone at the moment."

It was the first time she had spoken about her mother of her own accord. Jayce had always assumed they had split on bad terms before Mel left for Piltover, but he hadn't expected her to have been raised to be manipulative and self-serving. What kind of a mother encouraged this thinking in her children, he wondered. He thought of his own mother, remembering her crows feet as she laughed at his jokes. He had been incredibly fortunate without ever cherishing it enough.
Having Mel confirm that she had only considered him an option because of his status as a breakthrough wonder boy had dealt a blow to his confidence that he willed himself to push away. He could lick his wounds later, when he had said everything he needed to say. 

"I think I love you," he said, "but I don't think we should be together. It sounds like neither of us are sure what we want."

Mel nodded, something like relief flashing across her face. "No hard feelings, then. Since we both messed up."

"I just want you to be happy," Jayce admitted, brows furrowing in concern. "I still want to help you, and if you'll allow me I'd like us to stay friends. I'll let you in on my projects if I have to, that way you'll still get something out of it."

"No need," she snorted, "I'll be present at the inventor's competition either way. And... I'd like that, too. Besides Elora, you are the closest thing to a friend I have." She paused, chuckling at whatever had crossed her mind. "Okay, third closest after Sky perhaps. I'd hate to lose you."

"You'll always have me," Jayce promised. Mind catching up to him, he suddenly sat up straighter. "You know Sky?"

Mel smiled at him, then, with none of the sadness from before. 

"Don't look so surprised. We all go to the same school at the end of the day. It took me about an hour to figure it out, but I was certain she was your assistant after she told me she works with two inventors who are trying to revolutionize the undercity."

Jayce coughed in embarrassment. 

"Not just the undercity," he murmured. "And anyway, I'm glad you two met, although I can't picture that first conversation. Sky is great, but she doesn't seem like the type you'd, uh, hang out with."

"I'd like to think I changed, too," Mel said wistfully. A lamp overhead flickered as a train passed over a nearby bridge. Her coffee wasn't steaming anymore. 

They sat in silence for a while, watching people go about their day on the other side of the window. 
Jayce imagined a world in which he had never told her. He imagined coming home to her artfully decorated apartment and letting her run her fingers through his hair on the couch. He imagined her stopping by the lab, giving him a quick kiss before he had to start working, and pictured himself picking her up in the evening to take a walk through the gardens. They would've shared more about themselves, eventually, or he would have resigned himself to not knowing after a couple of years. He could've been happy with her. 

It was a life that was only possible in a world without Viktor. No matter how fulfilled he could have been, he couldn't bring himself to mourn his future with her. 

"What are you going to do about Viktor?"

Jayce startled. It was almost like she had read his mind. 

He bit his lip, staring at his fist on the table. Unbidden, he remembered the smudge on Viktor's face and the urgency of his desire to wipe it away. 

"Nothing, probably," he shrugged, not as unaffected as he had planned to sound.

"You can't be serious," Mel said, thoroughly unconvinced.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Jayce asked, leaning forward. "Sabotage our working relationship? I tried to kiss him once and he basically fled from the room. I think that's enough indication that he's not into me."

For a second, it looked like Mel was reaching out to caress his face in a show of comfort. Jayce briefly closed his eyes. A heartbeat later, he opened them again to a sharp twinge on his right side. Mel had twisted his earlobe. 

Yelping, Jayce batted her hand away and threw her an accusatory stare. "Ow, what was that for?"

"I can't believe I ever thought you were smart," she sneered, withdrawing. "I didn't suffer through hours of having to watch that man drool over your every move, only for you to tell me that he isn't interested. Did you even tell him what was going through your head before you had the bright idea to test his boundaries?"

Wincing, Jayce shook his head.

"And you're surprised he didn't jump your bones right then and there. While I was in the house, may I remind you."

Biting down another apology, Jayce sighed. "I just don't want to ruin things between us. I'm fine with being his partner if that means I get to keep him by my side. What if you're wrong, and he doesn't want to work with me anymore?"

"Do you remember what I told you after our first date?" Mel asked.

"You wanted to know if I was in love with him," Jayce said quietly. 

Her mouth tightened at the reminder as she tapped the table with one perfectly manicured nail. "I did. More proof that I can read people better than you give me credit for, but that's beside the point. I also told you that no woman wants to feel like a second choice. I'd wager that it's quite similar with men. Viktor thinks you're only playing with his emotions because you've never given him any indication that you feel differently."

Correcting her posture to something more characteristic of her, Mel pushed back her cup. 

"I think you're a massive idiot," she said, tone unamused. "Go show him otherwise."

"Mel." 

"And spare me the details, Jayce. I can't stand either of you very much at the moment."

Jayce nodded, exhaling shakily. He stood up with weak knees, all the stress of his previous realization and his conversation with Mel threatening to overwhelm him. Yet, inexplicably, his mind felt more awake than before. 

He looked at Mel with a pang in his gut, and she looked back at him. Her expression was wary, but composed. There was no residual blame in her voice as she bid him goodbye. Jayce bit his tongue as he left their table, the reassurance she had given him that it wouldn't be the last time they spoke his only source of comfort. 

The sky was clear and dark on his walk back to his apartment. 

Strangely, despite the turmoil of the last few weeks, Jayce's inner voice had finally quieted down, allowing him to breathe the cold air and let the gentle breeze cool his burning face in blissful silence.

He had told Mel he wasn't sure what he wanted, but there was an image he pictured after the question that became more vivid with every step he took.

His apartment was only a short walk away from the lab and he paused at the bottom of the stairs, feet frozen to the ground.

Viktor would be working on their project at that very moment. Jayce pictured him amidst the empty lab, immersed in his tinkering. His hair would be unruly. He never bothered to brush it before he headed out. He would sip his coffee absentmindedly, stain his hands with ink and machine grease and chew on his bottom lip in concentration. 

He had turned around before he had made up his mind about what he was going to tell him. 

They would think of something together, as they always did. Jayce tried to picture his partner recoiling in disgust at his admission and found it impossible. The hateful expression he had conjured up mentally sat like a cheap mask on his partner's face. There was nothing he could do that would cause him to look at him in such a way. Viktor was the best person he knew. He would understand. 

I like you, Jayce thought as he climbed the stairs to their laboratory, I like you so much that it eats me up inside. You don't have to feel the same way, but god, I hope you do, because I don't know how I will survive being around you if you don't. 

He reached the heavy metal door to their lab, finding it slightly ajar. It wasn't unusual in itself, as Viktor often left in the middle of an experiment to retrieve something from the cabinets outside. 

Pushing it open and bracing himself, the words got stuck in his throat as he arrived to find a vacant room, no lights burning and no sign of his partner. 

There was a sound like steps drawing nearer from outside and he turned around in confusion. 

Sky gaped at him, keys in hand. 

"Jayce," she said, "why are you here?"

Exhaling loudly, Jayce rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I thought I could help Viktor out some more."

"Help him?" Sky asked, and her voice was even more wobbly than usual. 

Something about her tone stopped Jayce in his tracks. 

"Where is Viktor?" he asked. 

The young woman blinked and suddenly her lip quivered like she was fighting back tears. "Nobody told you?"

"Told me what?"

"He," she began, dropping her head to her chest and stepping back from the door. "His leg –"

Balling her hands into fists, she lifted her chin, taking his hand and squeezing it with more force than he would have expected from her.

"You should be with him," she told him, "something happened, and he needs you right now."

There was nothing in Jayce's head but static as he stared at her, uncomprehending. Hadn't he just been about to–

"Sky," he forced himself to say, "Tell me where I can find him." 

Chapter Text

Mel watched Jayce's retreating figure become nothing more than a colorful blur in the rain and had to stop herself from tearing at her hair. 

Sloshing the last miserable sip of coffee around at the bottom of her cup, she wondered how she had started her day in good spirits and ended it with a breakup, one not initiated by herself to add to her mortification. 

Jayce made his choice, she had told Viktor many days ago in a fit of temper, and it seemed like he had. She simply hadn't considered the possibility that he wouldn't pick her. 
There had been moments all throughout their relationship that had made her question the sincerity of Jayce's emotions, but his affection toward her had always felt genuine even as he sat across from her admitting that he had tried to kiss his partner and that he had harbored these feelings for longer than he had been consciously aware of. 
She had called it since their first date, had beaten him at his own game, but her victory sat bitter on her tongue. 

A part of her had wanted to lash out at him. He was in no position to reject her, not as someone from a lower house. He would need her support on the council in the coming years if he wanted to raise funding for his projects. To throw away the opportunity that had been handed to him on a silver platter so brazenly, when all he had needed to do was pay a price he wasn't even aware was being asked of him, was... perhaps the most honest he had ever been with her, and nothing she could wholeheartedly fault him for.

Not when she had watched him beg for a piece of her mind, and given him next to nothing in return. Not when he had been the fire warming her cold nights.

Her pride roared inside her chest, the feeling of humiliation something that she had nearly forgotten after years of having her own place in the sun. Acceptance was an even stranger emotion to come to terms with as she sat lonely at the table that she had shared with another person merely moments ago. 

She loved Jayce, be it in a way that was closer to loving the earth or the smell after it rained, as something unconditional and beautiful that would never truly belong to her alone, or in a way that resembled her longing for somebody who accepted her as she was, while extending a hand to the part of her that lived in the shadows of her mind, beckoning it gently to step into the light. 

She could have let herself fall for him, she realized, had she not silenced the very notion over and over again. It was an insignifacant revelation in the grander scheme of everything that had transpired between them, especially so after Jayce had left her to confess to someone else.

A Medarda doesn't grieve flimsy liaisons, her mother's voice reminded her sternly. There's always someone more befitting your station out there that you can charm. 

Mel rubbed at her temples, reigning her features back into something more akin to a blank mask. 
She left her cup at the table and paid upfront, watching the owner's eyes light up at the jingle of coins she left at the counter. People were easy to influence. Putting them under her spell took no more than a little convincing and a smile in their general direction. 

The rain had abated into a light drizzle as she stepped outside, once more reminded of a similarly cloudy evening and a conversation in the dim flicker of streetlights that had set her on Jayce's trail.  

Perhaps a Medarda doesn't mourn what could've been, she thought, watching raindrops pelt off her coat and wet the tips of her fingers as she held up her palms to the sky, But I'm much more than that. 

No matter her personal grievances, she had told Jayce the truth about her inability to trust him to the extent he needed her to. 

There was a letter in the bottom of her drawer that she hadn't dared to look at in weeks. 

Mel returned to her apartment slightly damp, slipping off her heels at the entrance lest she drip all over the hardwood floor. Elora heard her from where she had been preparing dinner in the kitchen, scurrying over to nettle her out of her coat. It took no more than a vague explanation to convince her that Mel's phone had run out of battery and that she hadn't felt the need to take a car for what was less than a handful of blocks, and Elora shook her head in sympathy, believing her without blinking an eye. 

In truth, Mel had needed the time it took her to get to her door to collect herself and to settle on a feeling that would help her focus on the most important things at hand. She lacked direction, something she could preoccupy herself with until she no longer felt like throwing something at her wall. 

She had paused at the bottom of the hill that led up to Piltover's finer residencies and let the events of the day pass in reverse before her mind's eye, and then she thought some more.

"You're no ordinary woman," Sky had said to her one day, waiting in front of Heimerdinger's office.

Having a friend like her, somebody she neither grew up with nor paid to cater to her every whim, occasionally threw her for a loop. Sky was timid and humble but said what was on her mind with surprising bluntness whenever she couldn't keep a thought to herself any longer. Her honesty was different from Jayce's passionate outbursts and she had a habit of backtracking whenever she felt like she had breached Mel's boundaries, that spoke volumes of her empathetic character. 

Mel had nodded, agreeing silently. Ordinary was not a word anyone had ever used to describe her. 

Sky had smoothed out a dog-eared page in her book and bit her lip. "I believe... You wouldn't hate it as much as you think you would."

"Hate what?"

"Being like everybody else," the young woman had told her candidly, letting the book close with a dull thud. "I think you deserve a break. Even extraordinary people get tired of their spectacular lives, don't they?"

Feeling her hair plastered against her forehead as she stared at Piltover's lights far up ahead, Mel understood what she had meant. 
She could feel the weariness deep in her bones, permeating her entire being. 
Had she not been raised to stand tall and proud, she was sure she would have slouched worse than Viktor ever could, dragged down by an invisible weight. Her upbringing had allowed her to keep her head high, and let doubts affect her only in the privacy of her room late at night, but she was undeniably tired. 

She had lived her life according to what she believed was the only way to stay on top. As a girl sent away on a ship to Piltover, she had bit her tongue until it bled, and she had sworn to herself that she would never feel weak and dependent on anyone ever again. She had run from her mother's shadow for the better part of her adulthood, only to find the woman's face staring back at her in the mirror. 

Had she ever truly wanted to keep others at a distance? Had it been her own voice guiding her for years, or just a projection of everything she had been trained to do?

Had there been no other way, or had she been afraid to venture off the path that had been carved for her?

"It's easier to let go when you only think about yourself and no one else," Jayce had said to her, and "How am I supposed to make it better for you when you don't tell me?"

There was an outlet for her drive, her ambition. Mel drank the tea Elora had prepared for her uncaring if it burned her tongue. She had found something that could direct her now. Something she could pour every piece of her soul into until the hurt had faded completely, until she could focus on getting better. 

Her eyes stung as she stared at her drawer, unblinking. 

She hadn't gone anywhere near it since the letter had arrived. Her hesitancy had cost her dearly, and it would continue to control her unless she sent it away, tightly sealed away in an envelope far across the ocean. She wasn't ready to face her mother. Perhaps she would never be. Regardless, she had carried a piece of her with her ever since she was a child. 

Hands steady, she opened the drawer. 

Then it was time to pick up a pen. 

Ambessa, she wrote initially, then scratched over it with vicious strokes. There was no use in pretending, not when she was writing to her family as much as she was speaking to herself. 

The ink smeared a little when she started over on the next line. 

Mother, 

I received your sudden correspondence with no small measure of surprise. I had assumed that my doings in Piltover were below what you classified as relevant intel, and I must congratulate you on your stealth, as I was truly unaware that you had been keeping up with my life in the slightest until I read your letter.

In truth, I was surprised you bothered to reach out after everything you said to me before my departure. 
I carried those words with me no matter how far the distance between us grew, and I still remember the moment you told me that I was not your daughter until I learned to behave like a true Medarda. 
I had no idea what our name meant to you, and I lived my life in adherence to what I thought it was you demanded of me. It took me many years to realize it was all an act on my part. It was never our name that I fell short of, nor was it some code of honor I had broken with my refusal to finish what you had started. It was entirely you, and your fear that I would not see the world the same as you did. 

I do not doubt that you changed in the decade we've been apart. Sometimes all it takes to shape a person is surrounding yourself with people who refuse to give up on you. For so long, I wished you were at my side so you could be that person for me. Now all I hope for is that you have somebody who does the same for you. 

You may call me a coward, for I still lack the courage to say these words to your face, but take them as my honest truth nonetheless. I miss you every day, and I mourn the loss of our bond even as I hate you for what you did to me when I was much too young to realize what I did wrong. Should you visit me, I fear that I may yet crawl back to you and embrace you as my mother, but as it stands, you have not shown me that you are ready to accept me in return, and I do not forgive you. 

I am older now, and I have learned much from these people, whose ways are not so different from our own. You may call them soft-spined idealists, but you'd be surprised at the wonders that can be achieved when you don't look down on compassion and trust. 
My twenty-sixth birthday has passed without a word from you, and yet you claim that my rightful place is at your side, where I have no reassurance that you will treat me as your equal and not as simply another one of your soldiers you can feed your lies to until it's all that they believe. 

You've robbed me of the chance to grow up alongside my brother. I can overlook most of your transgressions, but my heart breaks for what you took from us. 

It may come as a relief to you that I am not tainting our family name. You have acknowledged that I built something for myself in the years I've had to come to terms with the fact that I may never be allowed to return back home. I thank you for the wisdom you've bestowed upon me, but the credit is my own. I've expanded upon your teachings with my own findings, and I've used them to my advantage without causing harm to those who put their trust in me. 

With as much wisdom and all the love I – naively – still hold for you, as I've remained your daughter in all ways but in the knowledge that you might not claim me as your own, I must inform you that I will not return to Noxus, not even for a season. 

You are my blood, but my place is here, in Piltover. Should you attempt to convince me through dishonorable means, I may be forced to retaliate in kind. Do not forget that you were the one who raised me.

Should you wish to mend our bond, there is one way to show it. Tell Kino I miss him dearly, and provide him with the necessary means to contact me. It is not an apology, but should you consider it, I will view it as a show of well-meaning intent. 

Until then, 

Mel

Her pen lingered on the last stroke, causing it to blot as the paper soaked up more ink than it should. Mel's head felt empty as she read over the same lines, the words sounding increasingly unfamiliar to her. It was like she had parted with the girl she had been afraid to lose all along, put her into letters and shapes, and said her goodbyes with a promise not to repeat her mistakes. 

It had all been scribbles on parchment at the end. The more of herself she had let shine through, the easier it was to let go of her heartbreak. Folding up the page after the ink had dried, she no longer felt like she was suffocating. She would send the letter the following day, but the knowledge of what her mother might respond with in retaliation no longer made her heart stutter in a panic. Her chest felt lighter than it had in years. 

The first step of her new life was taking Sky and Elora out for dinner. 

Despite being a welcome guest at Piltover's restaurants and having frequented them for countless business meetings with the city's wealthy and powerful, she had rarely visited her favorite spot, an Ionian place far off the main roads, with the women she allowed herself to call her closest friends. It was an exercise in trust, one of the small yet significant tasks she had put upon herself.  She needed to part with the idea that every waking hour should be used to establish promising connections, focusing instead on deepening the few relationships she genuinely cared about. 

After a round of drinks and appetizers, the two had warmed up to each other. Mel sat between them in the middle of their cushioned booth and let the warm rush of alcohol lull her into a sense of fuzzy comfort, watching them interact. At some point, Elora swallowed too much of her drink in one go and Sky burst out laughing in a shrill voice before she clapped her hands over her mouth, mortified. 

Nobody paid them any mind. In the semidarkness of the restaurant, they were nothing more than a group of guests spending their evening together. Having cleared her plate, Mel caught a glimpse of herself in the metal reflection. The warped image blinked back at her, entirely unrecognizable. She smiled. 

"I used to have the biggest crush on Viktor," Sky choked out after her second drink, the confessions muffled around a mouthful of cake. "It was the entire reason I wanted to work for him, a–at least at the beginning. I met him once as a child, and then later our paths crossed when we were teenagers and preparing for the entrance exams. He's always been smart, and back then I was sure that he would be the one to get sent topside. Imagine my surprise when I got my letter! He kept why he didn't accept the offer a secret and I thought I'd never see him again after that, so meeting him at the Academy felt like... a sign."

Mel shuddered, imagining Jayce and Sky fighting over Viktor behind his back. Leave it to Piltover's scientists to have horrible taste in men. 

"He rejected a spot at the Academy?" Elora asked, curiosity piqued. 

Sky nodded, jabbing at a layer of heavy cream with her spoon. 

"Back then, the acceptance program was still somewhat of a trial run. They only took in about a handful of students each year when I was at that age, and when it proved to be successful they slowly increased the number of free spots for Zaunites. I..." She paused, her eyes downcast. "It wasn't uncommon to trade in your spot for somebody else back then. The highest age they would allow was nineteen, and after that, you didn't get another chance. If someone above you on the list dropped out, you'd replace them in the ranking. Sometimes I wonder if there was a specific person he would have wanted to..."

"You think he let go of the opportunity so other people would have a higher chance of getting in," Mel said quietly, finishing her sentence. 

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Sky shrugged, taking another bite. Elora shot her a stricken glance over the rim of her glass when the other woman refused to look up. 

Reluctantly, Mel remembered her first conversation with Viktor. He had been a strange sight to behold, nothing but gangly limbs and a sullen expression, and she had to admit that she disliked him on principle from the moment she saw him. She had made a dig at his elusiveness – somewhat of a bitter irony to a couple of months later, where it now seemed as if she couldn't avoid the mention of his name at every corner – and he had responded with a blank face, telling her that he wasn't an Academy student because he didn't qualify. Had it been a lie? Would he have been so selfless – stupid, she corrected herself – as to throw away his only shot at receiving recognition for his work that he had at the time? 

Her musings were interrupted by a small sound escaping Sky's mouth, something that sounded alarmingly similar to a sob. 

"He's always been much kinder than he lets on," she mumbled, eyes tearing up as she raised her head. Alcohol made her more emotional than usual, by the looks of it. Mel reached out and took one of her hands, rubbing soothing circles into the skin of her palm. 

"What an idiot," she stated, blinking as Jayce's face flashed in front of her eyes. They deserve each other, she thought to herself, not sure if she should find the notion funny or infuriating. 

Sky hiccuped, tipsy and red-faced. She intertwined their fingers and raised Mel's hand to her burning cheek, resting the side of her head against it as she rambled on, oblivious to Elora's quiet huff of laughter that the other woman masked with a cough. 

"You don't even know how nice he is," Sky said, unperturbed. Her glasses had slid down her nose again before she decided to set them on the table. "He stays overtime almost every night, and he sleeps at the lab because he doesn't want to burden Jayce with the bulk of their work the next morning. He always helps me with my assignments whenever I get stuck on a specific problem and he sometimes crafts little things during his break that he gives to us. According to him, it helps him unwind, and he'd throw them away otherwise, but I know he does it to cheer us up."

"He gave me a flower once. Its petals can move when you wind it up. In another life, I'm sure he'd be a good toymaker." She sighed, closing her eyes. "He's sick, you know."

Mel stilled. The amused smile that had snuck onto her face against her better judgment faded on her lips. 

"How bad is it?"

"The doctors wouldn't tell me," Sky whispered. "He just collapsed in the middle of the stairs. I only found him because I had left something at the lab that I needed for my next class that day. I–I stayed with him until help arrived, but–"

She hesitated, brows knitting in concern. 

"He said he couldn't feel his leg."

Elora frowned, abandoning her drink. "That's horrible."

Mel could only share her sentiment. She had been aware of Viktor's condition for a while now. It wasn't exactly hard to miss as she had only ever seen him with his cane. Whether it had been a false assurance on Viktor's part or a recent development he couldn't have predicted, Jayce had told her that his illness wasn't progressing. 

Their mood remained somber while Mel held Sky's hand and Elora attempted to distract her with an account of the day she had witnessed a Noxian general trip down the ramp of his ship in front of an entire brigade of soldiers. It wasn't until she had gotten to the part where the general had slipped again on his way up that Sky let out a small chuckle. From then on, it was easy to trade embarrassing stories, most of which were ridiculous enough to make Mel crack a smile. She had heard most of Elora's anecdotes over the years and knew them by heart, but the familiarity of the scene loosened the knot in her chest. She joined in whenever she remembered something worthwhile, making Sky gasp as she described in detail how a self-important businessman she had considered striking a deal with had exposed his affair with his secretary in the middle of a dinner that included his wife and son. Needless to say, she had left him to his own devices. 

Regardless of the giddy haze that had begun to cloud her thoughts, part of her recognized that it was an unwise idea to share business secrets in a public place while anyone could listen in on their conversation. Surely the man would be furious with her if he found out she had broken confidentiality, her inner voice warned her. 

Mel could hardly bring herself to care as Sky's eyes danced with mirth and Elora buried her face in her hands, shaking with laughter. 

It was late into the night as she paid for their food and drinks at the counter, glancing back at her friends who were passed out at their table, too drunk to protest. Mel had to fight back a yawn as she called her chauffeur to pick them up, sliding back into their booth to wake up the other two women. 

"I love you," Sky murmured under her breath in the backseat of their car, resting her head in the crook of Mel's neck, her breath light and warm against her skin. 

"I love you, too," Mel whispered back, kissing the crown of her head in a surge of affection before she turned carefully and lifted her arm,  pressing her lips to the back of Elora's hand that she had cradled absentmindedly. "And you. Thank you for today."

Something delicate had taken root in her chest, and she felt it blossom as she shared in the warmth of their embrace. 

Her next move was entirely irrational and surprised even herself. 

Mel's foot tapped against the polished white floor as she stared at the door across from her seat. She had foregone her heels and opted for flats. The sterile white hospital lights flickered overhead as she drew in a deep breath of impatience. 

After what felt like countless hours, the patter of footsteps drew nearer from the end of the hallway. Mel glanced up and gave the nurse a cordial nod, rising from her chair. 

"He's ready to see you now," the nurse told her, motioning her to follow. Her feline ears twitched as she opened the door, turning around to shoot her a quick smile. "That's a beautiful bouquet."

Mel returned her expression, paper crinkling in her grip as she drew it closer to her chest, stepping past the doorway. 

Viktor's hospital room was just as unnaturally bright and devoid of color as the rest of the building. One wall was comprised of large windows that led to a balcony outside, while the other one was barren except for a small nightstand and a lone visitor's chair in the corner. The shutters had been drawn on the side closest to the bed while the other side of the glass stood slightly ajar, letting a cool breeze waft in through the gap. 

Viktor watched her from where he was half buried under the covers of his bed, one skinny arm sticking out where the tubes connected him to the IV drip next to his head. There were dark purple bags under his eyes that almost looked like bruises in the harsh lighting. A book had been haphazardly placed on top of his blanket, pages still opened like he had put it down seconds before her arrival. 

"What happened to you?" Mel asked, pulling the visitor's chair slightly further away from the bed before sitting down. 

Viktor raised his eyebrows at her, making no attempt to conceal his apprehension. 

"Come here to gloat?"

Mel rolled her eyes, waving the bouquet in a show of appeasement. "I hardly would have got you this if it was that simple."

For a moment, Viktor looked taken aback before he narrowed his eyes at the flowers like the gesture had personally offended him. "I wouldn't put it past you. Isn't this your ideal scenario? I'm out of commission, and you get Jayce all to yourself. I doubt he'll stay at the lab when nobody's around to entertain him."

"I honestly thought he'd keep you company," Mel said, swallowing down the indignation that was threatening to bubble up at his words. It was tasteless of him to continue their rivalrous banter, knowing he had won. That was, assuming Jayce had revealed the truth to him, which seemed increasingly unlikely the closer she observed Viktor's expression. There was not an inkling of triumph or even guilt in his gaze as he stared her down. Either he was more shameless than she had given him credit for, or he had not the faintest idea of what had happened. 

"They dragged him out about an hour before you showed up," he sighed, voice tinged with exasperation. "He kept nodding off in the chair and insisted on staying the night. I thought I finally had some time to myself."

His version of events confirmed Mel's suspicions and she relaxed a little in her chair. She had feared that Viktor would laugh in her face after how she had behaved toward him, and that thought alone had nearly stopped her dead in her tracks as she had been about to enter the hospital grounds. 

She wasn't sure if they were on friendly terms, not even after their talk and subsequent amicable truce during the solstice. 

A part of her resented him still for taking Jayce from her, although it was an unreasonable accusation. Viktor had never as much as moved a finger and Jayce had chosen him regardless. It hadn't been his fault, and she would only make herself look like a fool if she blamed him for something he didn't even realize he had caused. 

"How I hate to disappoint," she said and smiled at him, more than a little malicious. "And here I was so worried about whether or not you were wasting away in your room after what I was told."

Viktor snorted, drawing himself up to a halfway sitting position, careful not to disrupt the tubing in his arm. 

"Did Jayce spill the beans?"

There was a strange intonation to the latter half of the sentence, like he had repeated the words verbatim without being entirely sure of how to use them in the correct context. 

"Sky told me."

"You know–"

Viktor paused, pinching the skin between his brows in irritation. "Actually, I think I'm better off not knowing." 

"She's awfully worried about you," Mel said, taking on a more serious voice. Do you even know how much you mean to them, she wanted to ask him, but it was not a conversation that she had any part in. Remembering the quiver in Sky's voice as she had told her about Viktor, and picturing her friend shedding tears for the frail man before her who refused to react to her admission, she had half a mind to shake him. 

"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly. 

Mel had only thought of answering the same question in passing, not entirely sure what had motivated her to visit him. They weren't friends by any means. Viktor wouldn't have blinked an eye had she not shown up during his stay. She had thought of writing him a card wishing him well, but it had felt too impersonal for no conceivable reason. Rationally, she knew that the emotional turmoil of the past days must have gotten to her to inspire such a ridiculous act. She hadn't been consciously aware of telling her driver to head to the hospital before he had pulled to a stop half a street down. The flowers had been an afterthought she had indulged in as a means to justify her sudden appearance.

"Believe it or not," Mel said, smoothly gliding to her feet and taking a few steps back toward the window, from where she watched patients accompanied by staff or family members taking small walks through the frosty landscape down below. "I came here to check in on how you were faring."

"Since we're so close," Viktor said. Without taking a glimpse back, she could tell he was frowning. 

"When I told you that I didn't hate you, I meant it," Mel replied. "We may not have seen eye to eye on most things, but I don't wish you any harm. I'm sorry about your accident."

Viktor said nothing for a while.
After an uncomfortable minute, Mel turned her head to look at him and saw him fiddling with the pages of his book. His posture was unusually defeated. 

"It's a little late for that," he grumbled finally, making an aborted gesture to the lower half of his body that was still covered by white fabric. 

Carefully, like approaching a wounded animal, Mel drew closer. 

"What's your prognosis?"

Viktor shrugged, and if his expression had been blank mere moments ago, it now crumpled in on itself with shocking vehemence. 

"They say I got it from my parents. My old doctors said it was a birth defect, something that could be fixed by cutting me open and replacing the faulty parts with new nerves. Now they're saying they misdiagnosed me and it may not be as simple as that." Balling his hand into a fist, his voice took on a bitter note. "I lost feeling in my right leg. Something to do with stress, most likely. Too little sleep blocks the receptors in my brain that are already not sending out enough signals, and they're shutting down one by one. Once the connection is severed, the nerves can't be restored. If I'm not careful, I'll lose the other leg, too. Jury's still out on whether or not I'll get to keep my arms."

"Is there a way to slow the progression?" Mel asked, sitting down at the very edge of the bed, close enough to reach out but at a safe enough distance not to scare him away. 

"They're experimenting on rats with the same condition," he huffed, letting the book snap shut. "It's unlikely enough that they'll find something, but even if they do, it will take them decades to make it accessible to human patients."

Decades that I might not have, he didn't say, but Mel heard it nonetheless. 

It was hard to reconcile the image of the man before her with the sarcastic scientist she had met months prior. Oddly, she almost missed the version of him that had seemed so unshakeable. 

"It won't kill you, right?" 

Viktor shrugged, his hair hanging in strands into his face. "Eh. It'll just paralyze me at some point, if I don't do what they say."

Mel stared at him, her throat constricting around her next words. He delivered the news in a monotone voice that was almost dismissive, had it not been for the roughness with which he said it. 

"Excuse my ignorance," she said slowly, "but wouldn't complying with the doctor's demands be the preferable course of action? Surely you don't want to break what still has a chance of mending itself?"

She couldn't help her incredulity. No matter from which angle she looked at the situation, it seemed like Viktor's way of dealing with the urgency of his situation was flippant at its best. 

He raked a hand through his hair and pressed his lips into a tight line. Upon closer inspection, he looked ready to keel over at any second. Mel picked at her cuticles as she watched him, fighting the urge to flee from the room. 

"They want me to abandon my work," Viktor said. "If I want to improve my chances, I'll have to limit my time at the lab to two times a week, maybe one day for a couple of hours if they decide it's still not enough. They don't understand that I–"

He sagged against the wall, staring at the ceiling. 

"I don't have the time to focus on myself," he continued. "There's so much I need to do and it'll all fall apart if I drop out now. I tried to convince them to let me finish our project at my current pace, but they said the risks were too high. A lab is not a beneficial environment for your recovery," he quoted in a bad imitation of a Piltovian accent, spitting the last words like venom. 

"Besides," he sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment, "I'd rather sacrifice my body for my work than the other way around. Only one will outlive me."

His throat made an audible noise as he swallowed. Mel stared at him, mind reeling with everything she had heard.
Faint wisps of conversation filtered in through the open window, but the world appeared to be miles away, far removed from the enclosed space of the hospital room. 

Mel cleared her throat and was surprised to hear her voice break as she interrupted the silence. 

"You're so unbelievably," she began, taking a steadying breath, "so incredibly self-absorbed."

There was a rustle as Viktor moved his head, glaring at her from his hunched position. She held up a hand as if to silence any objections he might have thrown at her. 

"I was ready to believe I had misjudged you," she said, "I thought that having others vouch for your kindness, your care, must have meant something. Someone who went out of their way to help others without a second thought, someone who was loved by so many good, honest people could not possibly be anything other than selfless. I was mistaken."

She thought of Sky, who adored Viktor as her mentor and as a friend. 

She thought of Jayce, who loved him in ways she could never fully understand. 

"The best people I know are waiting for you to get better at this very moment. They're waiting for you to give them hope, to tell them that there's a way they'll be able to spend the rest of their lives with you without having to blame themselves for what happened to you. I came here to tell you that I would lend you my support if you ever needed it, yet all I've seen you do is wallow in self-pity like the doctors told you you'll never leave this room alive. You're ready to throw away your health, just so you can go out with a bang, and all this time you've not spared them a single thought."

There was a noise like a hiss as Viktor sucked in a shallow breath. In the back of her mind, Mel realized that she was being unfair. Mean, even. It was a part of herself she had been trying to bury in the light of her recent revelations, but she was powerless against the anger that permeated her entire being. 

"Have you considered how Sky would cope with finding you on the floor again, only this time your fall wasn't so lucky? Have you thought about Jayce–"

"Jayce needs me," Viktor barked, and it was the only thing he said after he had listened to her monologue with a stricken expression.

"Jayce cares about you more than he depends on you," Mel shot back, leaning halfway over his blanketed silhouette. "Don't think for one second that he wouldn't ban you from the lab forever if it meant helping you in some way. He isn't anything like you in that aspect."

Viktor's eyes took on a frantic look, widening as she cornered him against the wall. 

"He deserves much better than either of us, but for some reason he chose us. Any other person would have treated him with more respect, showed him more gratitude for everything he puts up with without complaint. We're both horrible in our own ways."

Before he had a chance to lash out at her, Mel withdrew, sitting up straight in the middle of the bed, fixing Viktor with a calm gaze.

"I look at you and I see me," she said, "and that's why I know you'll never understand until I spell it out for you. The only way you'll lose him is if you pretend that nothing has changed. You can't go back to the way things used to be, but you can try to move forward and learn from your mistakes. Listen to him, for once."

You're so lucky to have him, she thought. We both are. I'm just as selfish as you but I've realized my path isn't set in stone. I must be losing my mind because I feel connected to you. If I can get better, that means you can, too. 

Distantly, a peal of laughter sounded from the gardens outside, like the ringing of a bell. 

Viktor sniffed haughtily, a single undignified sound, and before Mel could say anything else, he was crying. 

He wasn't an ugly crier, but his chest heaved with big wet exhales of garbled little noises, like he had swallowed a miniature stormcloud at some point in his life and it was fighting to escape his throat. A single tear paved its way down his cheek, halting its descent at the curve of his lips before dripping down and forming a small wet patch on his hospital gown. 

Mel watched him sob with silent trepidation, suddenly unsure of what he expected her to do. Did he want her to get up and leave so he could compose himself in private? Did he want a hug?

"For what it's worth, I am still terribly sorry," she said quietly.

Viktor threw her an affronted look, though his breath still hitched as he spoke. "I don't need your pity."

"I'm not pitying you. It's an objective statement."

"I'm sure this was your plan all along," he choked out, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Mel dug in the pockets of her coat for a tissue, which he snatched from her hands as soon as she had handed it to him. "If I'm no longer around Jayce, you can go back to pretending like I don't exist."

He blew his nose noisily, turning red in the face. 

"You severely overestimate your importance in my life," Mel said but her tone was lighter. She hadn't missed the specifics of his phrasing. It sounded like parts of her speech had gotten through to him and that he was considering her advice, no matter how coldly she had presented it. 

"Of course," Viktor huffed, returning to his normal pallid complexion. "That's why you just spent several minutes berating me on the correct way to lead my life."

He stared at the crumpled tissue in his hands.

"Thank you."

Mel startled much to her own embarrassment, whipping her head around as she raised both eyebrows. 

"Despite what you may think of me, I am well aware that Jayce got stuck with me through unlucky circumstances. Initially, I saw him as a way to find purpose in my life and further my own plans – something I'm sure you're familiar with – and then I realized how lucky I was. I would never hurt him on purpose. What you said to me was the strangest pep talk or insult I've ever received from anyone, but if there is the slightest chance that you are right and I will hurt not only myself, but others in the process, I'll come up with something else."

He gestured weakly at the bouquet Mel had left lying on her chair. 

"I don't like roses. But I appreciate the gesture."

Mel couldn't help it. Much like their conversation near the river, a laugh bubbled up from the depths of some place she couldn't name if she tried. 

Viktor stared at her with a flat expression before he, too, huffed a wet laugh. 

There was a thought that came to her unbidden, and she paused, laughter fading as it was replaced by some surge of insanity that gripped her from within. She reached out and clasped the hand that wasn't connected to the tubes, watching him still as he waited for an explanation.

"I want us to be friends."

Mel squeezed his hand, finding it bony and slightly damp to the touch. She gave him her most winning smile. 

"It'll be much easier than being at each other's throats all the time. You're not so bad when you actually try to be civil."

Viktor wriggled his hand under her grasp, trying to rid himself of her grip. 

"Absolutely not," he spat, "If I recall correctly, you called me incredibly self-absorbed and horrible less than five minutes ago."

She lightened her hold and he slipped his hand free instantly, clutching it to his chest like her touch had burned him. 
There was a slight pink tinge to his ears and an accusatory air about him that Mel allowed herself to find funny. 

"Both can be true at the same time," she said, leaning back and stretching her neck. "It's fine if you don't want to be. But I must warn you, your life would be infinitely easier with me on your side, and I can be terribly convincing."

"You're acting weird," Viktor replied, eyeing her with suspicion. 

Am I, Mel wanted to ask. I feel like I am finally at a point where I can say what I want to say without being interrupted by my own thoughts. 
She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed, feeling it dip under her weight. She was careful not to hold onto Viktor's legs as she pushed herself off the mattress and padded over to the chair, picking up the bouquet.

Turning back to the man, she was shocked to find him smaller than she had perceived him to look. His face was guarded as he cocked his head at her, bony shoulders visible under his gown.

If there is anyone who needs a break more than I do, it's him, she thought.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" she asked earnestly. "You mentioned research on a potential cure. I have connections and the necessary funds to help them along. Assuming that would be in your interest."

It wasn't intended as a throwaway line. She had accumulated wealth for years, talked to potential investors and important figures, and finally it seemed like there was something that could be worth taking a risk for. It wouldn't only be to help out Viktor. If the program proved to be successful, she could assist many others in similar predicaments. 

Viktor regarded her for a moment and something like respect crossed his face.

"I'm not opposed to it, although I do not know much about what they're working on. I'll contact my doctors." He hesitated, seeming to debate with himself if he could trust her, before steeling his gaze. "In the meantime, there's something else I want you to do for me if you're willing."

Mel nodded, listening intently to what he was describing. It came as no surprise to her that his primary concern lay not with himself but with his work, and, habitually, with Jayce. 

"I'll see what I can do," Mel promised him after he had finished his explanations. "Will you be okay?"

Viktor snorted, once more the type of person she could barely stand. 

"Get out."

Mel shook her head, pausing at the window to take a final look at the gardens. She was relieved to find them much the same, people still going about their day like nothing could interrupt the flow of things even as her own mind raced to adjust to everything she had come to realize. 

"I'll ask the nurses if they have a vase," she said at the doorway, gesturing at the flowers. 

From where he had slid back under the covers, Viktor rolled his eyes. "I won't be mad if you forget."

She only smiled in return, thinking to herself that she must have truly gone mad as she searched for even a smidgen of annoyance within herself and found only a trace of fond exasperation that reminded her of someone else.

Chapter Text

Recovery, Viktor begrudgingly accepted, was entirely out of his mind's control. 

Once the initial discomfort of only being able to feel half of his legs had faded into the background of his thoughts, he came to miss the company of another person, rereading the book Jayce had brought him until the lines began to swim in front of his eyes. 
The boredom that followed was the worst part. He spent the better part of his waking hours confined to his bed, enduring the occasional visit from whatever nurse had been put on bedside duty that day. His medication had to be administered in the mornings and evenings, a cocktail of vitamins and minerals that was meant to get him back on track. Privately, Viktor doubted that anything in the near future would put him back on his feet, as they had put it, but he saw no point in correcting them. That way, at least somebody could remain hopeful about his condition, even if it wasn't him. He perked up routinely at the odd chance to talk to his doctors, taking notes and collecting brochures on their treatment plans for patients with his diagnosis. They were in the early stages of testing on bigger mammals, they assured him, and after he had not so subtly grilled them for more information, they left him a number that he could call, telling him that the person on the other line was a leading researcher involved in the development of a cure. 

Viktor felt compelled to contact them right away, but he had promised both Jayce and, reluctantly, Mel that he would rest as much as possible and focus on getting sent back home before he attempted anything taxing. 

His first nights at the hospital had been uneventful. They had put him on painkillers in the aftermath of his fall after they had assessed that he had bruised several ribs, and the medication had lulled him to sleep until noon of the next day without interruptions. 
After a week, they lowered his dosage and he began to toss and turn in a state of fitful rest. The tubing in his arm began to hurt and although he had been told that the connection between the nerves in his right leg and his brain had been interrupted, he felt an unpleasant prickle in the absence of the usual sensations. Gradually, his dreams became more vivid, too. There was nothing else for his brain to occupy itself with, he suspected, finding himself shooting upright in his bed from time to time. In the quiet of his room, when the blinds had been drawn and shadows danced across the far end of the wall as Piltover bustled with nightly activity on the other side of the river, his thoughts circled the same images. 

Most nights, he dreamt of running. The scenery changed each time he closed his eyes, transitioning seamlessly from an open field to the docks at the far end of the harbor or to the crowded streets at the bottom of the fissures, where he weaved in between a mass of nondescript faces, smaller and lighter than he had been in years. Without fail, he woke up with stinging eyes hours later, feeling like the floor had been pulled from under his feet as he remembered that he had never moved anywhere as gracefully as he had tricked himself into believing, not even when he had two working legs, and that he certainly would never be able to catch up with the illusion now.

Jayce's frequent and predictably timed visits were the only thing that could put his mind off the gloomy ideas that particular train of thought produced.

The other man had been allowed back in after he had promised to leave Viktor's room on time without causing another commotion. He had dropped by in the early afternoon one day after Mel's unannounced visit and noticed the flowers she had left him on his bedside table, grinning sheepishly at him. 

"Did someone else talk to you after I left?" he asked, setting down his backpack at the end of the bed and rifling through its contents. The red of his lab uniform peeked through the sheer fabric of his white sweater. 

"Mel did," Viktor said, not bothering with an explanation. He had resolved to keep their conversation between the two of them. Jayce could never know how close he had come to sabotaging his only chance at rehabilitation. 

The grin faltered on his partner's face as he froze, throwing him a careful glance. 

"What did you guys talk about?"

Viktor suppressed a groan of irritation at the badly concealed mistrust in his voice. 

"Nothing much," he said noncommittally, ignoring the inquisitory look Jayce directed at him. It was almost like his partner expected him to confess that they had spent the day gossiping and sharing his secrets with the hospital staff, judging by the intensity of his gaze. Viktor would much rather admit to doing so than tell him the details of their conversation. 

Realizing that there was not much to be gained by sticking to the topic of Mel's visit, Jayce coughed into his fist, uncharacteristically frazzled. He pulled out a small box and smoothed over its wrinkled edges with his palm. Whatever its contents, he had wrapped it in a sheet of newspaper and secured it with clear tape. 

"I didn't get you any flowers," he frowned, sitting beside Viktor's hip. The bedframe creaked as he shifted. 

"Thank the heavens," said Viktor, "I can barely stand the smell as it is." 

The newspaper crinkled as Jayce held out the box to him. 

"I figured you were done with your book. Sorry about the shoddy wrapping."

Viktor threw him a mildly surprised glance and ripped the paper open at one corner, gingerly widening the tear until he could see letters on a green background. The Emperor's Curse, the title read. Below was a watercolor illustration depicting the ruins of a great city amidst dunes of golden sand. 

"A children's tale?" he asked, skimming the first page. 

Jayce chuckled sheepishly. "I can get you another one if you want."

"No," Viktor shot back quickly, putting the book aside. "I'll read it. I... Thank you." Folding the newspaper in half, he handed it back to the man. "How are things at the lab?"

His partner shrugged, crumpling the paper into a ball in his fist. 

"Same as always. Sevika came by yesterday. I told her you won't be back for a while."

He grimaced. 

"She would have left after that had Sky not been there, too. I bet she misses you."

Viktor rolled his eyes as he nudged his shoulder playfully. "Any results?"

"The tests were promising," Jayce smiled, rolling the paper ball along the edge of the mattress. "No problems with motor functions whatsoever. Writing and painting should be as precise as any other movement, at least in theory. You were right to dial down the output, she didn't break her brush this time. I only wish we had someone with actual creative talent to compare her to, because her pictures still look like a child's first attempt at art and I'm not sure if it's the arm's fault."

"That's good," Viktor said, repeating the sentence absentmindedly. His fingers itched for a pen and his notes. 

Jayce hummed, fingers stilling next to his wrist. He brushed against it thoughtlessly, and a trail of goosebumps traveled up Viktor's arm, leaving a tingling echo behind where their skin had touched. 

"I wish you could've been there," his partner murmured, unprompted. "Without you, it's like I'm running in circles."

His hand inched closer. One fraction of a movement and his pinkie would rest against the soft space below the base of Viktor's thumb, feeling the erratic beat of his pulse. 

"Jayce," Viktor rasped, a little hoarser than he had intended. "You know I can't."

Head hanging low, Jayce nodded, letting his hand linger for a second before withdrawing, putting the paper ball in his pocket. 

"I'm not asking you to come back. The most important thing you can do right now is rest and get better. To be clear, I wouldn't allow you back into the lab if you showed up unannounced, so don't try anything funny. I'm well aware of how little you listen to reason. Besides, any hour with you is better than nothing, and if that is all the time we get at the moment, I'd be stupid to complain."

He glanced up at Viktor, eyes framed by dark lashes. 

"I guess I miss my partner."

I miss you, too, Viktor thought, heart clenching around the desire to reach out and run his fingers through the other man's hair, pull him up to lie beside him and rest his head against his chest, hiding himself away from the world. Jayce wouldn't deny him a simple comfort if he asked, and the very possibility of it made the notion all the more painful. 

"I'm not that reckless," he said instead, trying not to cringe at how unconvincing it sounded. 

Jayce sighed, leaning back in the visitor's chair, long legs spread at an awkward angle. There was barely any space for him near the bed. 

"I'd be grateful if you weren't," he replied quietly. "You scared the hell out of me the first time around. I don't know what I would have done, had you..."

His throat worked as he swallowed. The dry noise was loud in the muffled silence.

"Well, I suppose there's no point in dwelling on the what-ifs. I'm only glad Sky found you in time."

He made a small sound, like the beginning of another sentence that wouldn't leave his lips, before he shut his mouth with a click. 
It was something Viktor had observed a lot lately. There was no real way for him to open that particular can of worms without coming across as paranoid, so he had tried to overlook it as best as he could. Still, an anxious thought had burrowed its way to the forefront of his mind. As farfetched as it sounded, he worried that Jayce felt like he couldn't trust him with more difficult topics because he viewed their bond as something fragile. Initially, he had blamed their awkward conversation after the evening of the solstice for their new, stilted way of talking and resigned himself to keeping a friendly distance, careful not to upset the other man. As time progressed and they had fallen back into their familiar routine, he wondered if there was another reason for Jayce's behavior, fruitless in his efforts to block out the doubts that crept up on him whenever he sensed a shift in his partner's emotions.

"As am I," he answered soberly, recalling Mel's words. Have you considered how Sky would cope with finding you on the floor again? Shamefully, he had to admit that he hadn't considered the impact his accident must have had on the young woman before she had mentioned it. She had been right. He couldn't burden her with another incident. Trying to get better was something he owed her, both as a friend but also as someone she looked up to. 

"How is she?" he asked. "Did she seem shaken up?"

"What do you think?" Jayce deadpanned, brows furrowing. "She had to call for help all by herself. I think anyone would be a little distraught after that."

"Can you tell her I'm alright and that I'm sorry?" Viktor asked him regretfully. 

His partner stared at him with a doubtful expression, wringing his hands. 

"Don't tell her I let you know in advance, but she wanted to drop by sometime later this week. Her schedule is pretty busy at the moment, but she asked to take an afternoon off so she could check up on you. Try not to look too miserable."

His eyes briefly crinkled at the corners as he sent Viktor a smile before he schooled his features into a more serious expression. 

"And V..."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. His voice carried a hint of solemnity that made Viktor blink. 

"I don't think anybody wants to hear an apology from you," he continued. "If anything, I should be the one to tell you I'm sorry. If I hadn't pushed you too hard or if I had paid more attention to your condition from the start, maybe we would have recognized the signs sooner. Maybe it could have been prevented, had I insisted you take a break more often."

"Don't be daft," Viktor spat in irritation. "You're not my mother."

Jayce huffed a small laugh, scratching the back of his head. "I know, I know." A shadow crossed over his face as he looked back at him, his eyes dark and mournful despite his insistence. The corners of his mouth twitched down almost imperceptibly as he exhaled through his nose. 

"You are your own person and what you decide to do with your life is not my business," he said pensively, repeating the same words Viktor had thrown at his head countless times when they had argued about who got to stay behind and finish their tasks for the night. "That being said, I'd hate to go looking for a new partner because my old one chose to work himself to death. Especially because I doubt that I could find somebody quite as stubborn and thickheaded as him."

His attempt at humor earned him an unimpressed look. 

"I'm not that easy to get rid of," he said simply. 

Unexpectedly, Jayce didn't rise to the bait. He bit back a noise that sounded like a frustrated groan, shaking his head. 

"Promise me," he demanded.

"What do you–"

"Viktor," Jayce interrupted him, the use of his full name enough to get him to listen. "I'm not sure if you understand, but I've never–" He stopped to search his face, his mouth hidden behind a white-knuckled fist. 

"- been so worried about someone. When Sky told me what had happened after I didn't find you at the lab, I thought you had died for a second."

There was no trace of levity in his voice. 

Why were you at the lab? Viktor wanted to ask him but the question seemed insignificant. 

"I need you," Jayce snapped. "That doesn't mean I can't take care of our projects by myself or that I want you to carry on like nothing ever happened. I need you to get better, and I need you to promise me that you'll stay by my side. I don't know how to do this without you. I... I don't want to do this alone!"

His fingers were clenched so hard that his hands were shaking. Viktor stared back at him, thrown off balance for the second time in under a day. There were no words that could accurately describe the way Jayce looked at him, no words other than...

Desperation. 

Impossibly, his partner seemed to hang onto his every breath with hopeless despair, like the very thought of averting his eyes meant letting Viktor slip from his sight. 

"I wanted to tell you something important before I heard what happened to you," he said, voice rough. "Something I realized much too late."

He forced his hands apart, drawing himself up to a sitting position. 

"I wanted to tell you that I–"

Viktor watched his lips move as he struggled to produce a sound. 

"That I..."

It was like he had sunk an invisible hook into Viktor's chest. On instinct, he felt the need to close the distance between them, blanket pooling around his hips as he, too, sat up straighter. The fabric of his hospital gown rustled as he pushed himself further down, hearing his right foot bump against the foot of the bed with a dull thud without feeling it. 

Jayce's eyes widened, jaw working as he bit his lip. 

"That I," he repeated meekly, his eyes glued to Viktor's face. 

Viktor bent down until they were at eye level. An odd sort of calm washed over him as he remembered the warmth of Jayce's breath against his mouth. Would he be just as hot to the touch if he ran his hand along the exposed skin of his neck? Would he still smell like cinnamon if he leaned in?

Don't I deserve this much? he thought before he could stop himself. I only want to find out. 

Jayce didn't move, didn't blink as his gaze flickered uncertainly, lingering on his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth –

There was a thump on the other side of the bed, loud enough to startle them out of whatever reverie they had been lured into. 

They jumped apart and Viktor whipped his head around, twisting to see what had caused the sudden noise.

His movement must have pushed the book Jayce had given him off the edge. The Emperor's Curse lay splayed open on the floor, flipped to a random page. There was no hope of their king’s return, for the sands had swallowed both empire and emperor alike, leaving only the echoes of their splendor to haunt the desolate dunes... 

Viktor frowned, acutely aware of what he had been about to do had he not been interrupted. 

With no small modicum of guilt, he turned to Jayce, who was still gaping at him. 

The other man looked, for lack of better words, spooked. Viktor didn't doubt that his mind was racing to come up with an explanation for what had transpired between them, but there was something he couldn't deny that time around.

He hadn't moved away. 

Viktor sighed, not in a mood to assuage Jayce's conscience. His heart was still beating wildly in his chest, blood pumping in his ears. 

"What was it you were going to say?" he asked as neutrally as he could, settling back down across from him. 

"Aha," Jayce said, something between a laugh and a question. 

Once his brain seemed to have rebooted, he shook his head, cheeks flushing red. "It can wait until you're back home."

Home. The notion of returning to his apartment after the doctors declared him well enough was a strange one. The place he considered closest to a home was their lab, a place he was firmly denied greater access to for the foreseeable future. 

"I see," he nodded, fiddling with his blanket. 

He was afraid of what he would find in Jayce's gaze if he looked at him more closely. 

They avoided each other for a moment, tension palpable in the air between them. 

Once Viktor was sure his cheeks had returned to a normal color, he chanced a glimpse at the other man. 

Jayce was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes downcast. After a heartbeat, he glanced up and sucked in a shallow breath at catching his partner already looking back at him. 

"What?" he laughed, clearly taken aback. 

Viktor smiled, relieved to find him acting relatively normal. Whatever he had done, Jayce seemed ready to overlook it. It was for the best, he told himself, even as a small part of him withered in disappointment. 

"I promise," he said, hearing his own voice echo in the back of his mind. "I promise I'll get better. You don't have to worry about me."

You can't go back to the way things used to be, but you can try to move forward and learn from your mistakes.

Jayce's answering grin was brighter than the sun. It was all he would have needed to convince him, Viktor realized. Jayce could ask him to do anything and he would apply himself to the task. If he wished for him to be more mindful of his limits, the least he could do was try.

That night, he didn't dream of running.

Viktor was discharged from the hospital a week later. 

His mood had progressively worsened the longer he was confined to his bed. Being told to go home boosted his spirit involuntarily, the relief only partially dulled by being unable to leave the room on his own two feet. 

The wheelchair was less of an adjustment than he had expected. Using his cane had always required him to use his arms for balance. There was barely any need for him to exert more strength as he gave an experimental push, gliding down the hallway. His feline nurse accompanied him to the elevator, steering him in the opposite direction once the doors opened on the other side. 
The entrance hall was bustling with patients, nurses and visitors. Filling out his forms on a clipboard, Viktor waited patiently as she went to print out his prescriptions for him in an office further down the hallway, glancing up occasionally when someone hurried past him. 

His pen paused as a pair of heavy polished boots entered his peripheral vision, stopping inches before him. 

"Ready to go?" 

Jayce shot him a cheeky smile, handsome even in the fluorescent lighting.
Shoving his hands into his front pockets, he gave Viktor a quick once-over, whistling through the gap between his teeth.

"Nice chair. Is that yours?"

Viktor stared at him for a moment before returning his attention to his papers. "I lent Sky some money so she could buy it for me," he replied, jotting down his phone number in neat cursive writing. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the area," Jayce shrugged like it explained his presence. "Just making sure you're getting home safe."

He drew back a step as the nurse approached them, envelope in hand. She gave him a friendly nod, no doubt recognizing him as the visitor who had fought tooth and nail to stay the night. Her tail brushed Viktor's feet as she bent down, explaining the specifics of his medication and urging him to contact them if his condition drastically worsened. 

"There is not much we can do except wait," she said, directing her intelligent yellow gaze at Jayce. "Do not let him perform any physically strenuous tasks. His objective should be to prevent additional stress."

"Got it," Jayce promised her, winking at Viktor as she turned away. The notion that he was his primary caregiver and in charge of monitoring his activities seemed to amuse him to no end. 

Viktor allowed him to take over, letting the other man steer him towards the sliding doors. Once they had exited the building, Jayce gave his wheelchair a gentle push, lifting its front wheels momentarily to cross over onto the sidewalk. The chill in the air was more palpable outside and Viktor shivered, pulling his sleeves down to his wrists. 

"Ah," Jayce winced, taking notice of his discomfort, "You must be cold. I totally forgot to bring you a jacket."

Before Viktor could protest, he shrugged out of his coat, draping it across his shoulders and front like a blanket. His words of denial died pitifully in his throat. The fabric was sturdy and as warm as a pocket oven, the thick wool lining on the inside soft against his skin. It carried a faint hint of his partner's scent, both familiar and damning. Viktor fought not to bury his nose in the material. 

"Better?" Jayce asked, hands lingering near his neck. 

Viktor hummed, keeping his eyes trained firmly ahead. 

Life, it turned out, truly didn't wait for anyone, least of all for him.

Rebuilding his routine from the ground up became his most important – and only – task. The days bled together in a haze as the world around him pressed on with indifference. It was perhaps the most lonely he had ever felt. Left with no choice but to accept it as his new reality for the time being, Viktor counted down the hours until the sun dipped below the horizon and his view of the city was obscured by darkness.

Predictably, the school year continued its march. 

He had written Heimerdinger a formal letter of apology and explained his absence in vague terms, suspecting that the professor would be tempted to do him a supposed favor and absolve him of his duties if he knew the full truth. As such, he was allowed to continue his work from the comfort of his cramped living room, reporting back to the Academy only when he had sorted through the box of files and essays he'd been assigned to grade for the week. What had been largely meaningless work before his accident was now the only semblance of normalcy he had, and he held onto the feeling of being needed like a lifeline, even if it involved checking students' papers for spelling errors and removing coffee stains from official documents. 

In some ways, it was like the last two years had never happened.

Instead of bringing their project along at the lab, Viktor spent hours by the windowsill each evening, listening to the lonely howl of the winter winds as they pushed and shoved against the glass. Like clockwork, his heater died shortly after his upstairs neighbor turned on their shower after coming home from their construction job, leaving him with chattering teeth as the cold crept in at nightfall. His only change of scenery involved a short trip to the kitchen where he refilled his mug with sweet milk that he reheated in a pot over the stove.

Bitterly, Viktor lamented that his doctors had crossed coffee off the list indefinitely as one of life's most subtle cruelties. 

Once a week, usually coinciding with Sevika's begrudging visits, he bore the embarrassment of being heaved up the stairs by Jayce's and Sky's joined efforts so he could assess their progress and make some final tweaks to their invention. As much as he longed for the chance to participate in something worthwhile more frequently, he had to admit with no small twinge of excitement that they were nearly done with their prototype. Each time he returned, he discovered that Jayce had improved whatever minor problems he had been able to determine during his previous inspections. 

Eventually, they decided that their results were indicative enough. Viktor hadn't managed to ascertain any faults with the prototype, and they had called Sevika to the lab one day ahead of schedule, thanking her for her cooperation and reassuring her that she had helped their research tremendously. 

She had waved them off with nothing more than a gruff reminder to pay her in full, adding darkly that she wouldn't forget her involvement in the making of their product, and neither should they. 

The next time Viktor dropped by, it became painfully apparent that he was no longer urgently needed. Jayce busied himself with preparing their pitch, best left to his own devices as the more charismatic and business-savvy half of their duo. Occasionally, he tried to get Viktor's input on a particular section of his speech, trying to hide his disappointment with whatever half-hearted suggestion he received in return. 

Selfishly, Viktor hoped that he had glossed over a mistake that would have been cause enough to run another round of tests and continue their work, but his own meticulous planning had thrown a wrench in his plans. There was simply no point in sticking around, no matter how much he dreaded leaving Jayce's orbit. He had done his part, ceasing to exist until the end of summer when his partner would decide whether or not he wanted to bring him back. His words at the hospital were a small consolation. 

Returning to his cold apartment and faulty heater seemed like the sensible thing to do, undoubtedly. 

Eventually, frost gave way to never-ending rain. There were no more than four months left of the school year when Jayce all but moved in with him by some strange twist of fate. 

It happened unceremoniously, as most things did. 

Between writing Heimerdinger increasingly more personal letters, coughing up a storm at the rising humidity and falling asleep on the couch remembering not one detail about whatever book he had read, Viktor had more or less adjusted to his meager circumstances. There wasn't much joy in setting aside his personal feelings and listening to "what his body was telling him", as the nurses had put it, but the pain in his remaining leg had lessened and navigating his apartment on wheels no longer required any conscious effort, so he decided that it was bearable.

Perhaps he should have turned to religion in his abundance of time. Thanking the gods for letting him see another bleak day, making that particular day's flood of documents that needed revision not as dreadfully boring as the last had been and reassuring his landlord on the phone that yes, his water was still cold all around no matter if he turned the handle or not, but at least his showerhead wasn't sputtering droplets in sporadic bursts anymore, was something he contemplated but ultimately decided was even more pointless than resuming his usual routine. 

In the morning, he dragged himself out of bed and into his wheelchair, fulfilled his scholarly duties with single-minded determination, then around noon he took his prescribed dose of medicine with a tall glass of water – no sweet beverages with his pills – and a bland meal – no seasoning other than a little salt and pepper, either – before he got to the most pressing issue at hand that awaited him each day, which was trying not to feel more pathetic than he objectively was. That was a privilege he reserved for late hours when he allowed himself to mourn after the times when he had taken his purpose for granted. His radio only had one station that he let play on low volume before he headed to bed, creating an illusion of idle chatter as he brushed his teeth, and massaged his temples, his arms, his legs. Sometimes he let his hand rest over his ribs, assuring himself of the rhythmic thumping of his heart, and sometimes he closed his eyes as it trailed lower. It was then that he thought of Jayce, and in the darkness of his room, it almost stopped feeling shameful.

It didn't matter what he did, or who he pictured during the act. He was alive, and his only responsibility was to himself. He would've preferred the imminent guilt over the lazy acceptance the next time he opened his eyes, but the alternative was something he had promised not to consider. 

He hadn't been to the lab in weeks when there was a knock at his door.

The sound was unfamiliar enough that Viktor spun around, carefully maneuvering around the stacks of documents on his floor as he rolled to answer whoever had interrupted his mundane ritual, opening the door just enough to take a peek at his unannounced visitor. 

It was exactly who he had been both dreading and hoping to see.

"Delivery," Jayce said, lowering his face to the gap, "Open up."

Sighing, Viktor pulled back to watch as his partner forced the door open with one shoulder, stumbling into the hallway. He was carrying two large plastic bags that rustled as he set them down to slip out of his shoes. 
Seeing him in the space he had shared with no other presence than himself for what had felt like a year was decidedly strange. He brought an air of unease into the silence of Viktor's thoughts, unstoppable in his tracks as he padded over to the kitchen like he owned the apartment, taking a cursory look around before disappearing behind the doorframe. 

Viktor followed him reluctantly, suddenly self-conscious of the unwashed cups in his sink and the relative mess on his desk in the room over. He disliked uncleanliness, something he had firmly rejected even as he withered away at his absolute lowest, and his newfound freedom had granted him enough time to put away his laundry and dirty dishes at the end of each day, while his complacency had prevented him from worrying much about anything else.

Jayce didn't bat an eye at the state of his accommodation, likely used to a much grander scale of chaos.

"I was honestly starting to get worried," he told Viktor over his shoulder, fingers working deftly to undo the knots on each bag. He had set them down on the counter and pulled open a cabinet to his left once he had successfully pulled out two boxes of takeout. "I hope you like chicken. Plates?"

"One cabinet down."

A second later, Jayce had set the table for two, finding where he stored his cutlery with astonishing ease. There was only one chair that Viktor no longer had any use for but kept out of habit, using the other one as a prop for his plants. He chose that one for himself, motioning for the other man to come closer. Viktor complied, eyeing him with curiosity as he rolled to a stop, pulling his handbrakes. 

Jayce opened up one of the boxes and immediately, the smell of spices and oil hit his nose, making his mouth water.

"I'm not allowed to have that," he said feebly, resolve weakening as Jayce handed him a fork.

"When I told you to be mindful of your health, I didn't mean you'd have to give up on good food forever," the other man laughed, pushing the steaming box in front of him before pulling the lid on the other one. 

Noticing Viktor's lack of reaction, he stabbed a piece of chicken and held it under his nose like he was trying to feed him, rolling his eyes. 

"I went to the undercity to get this, so don't act ungrateful. A bite won't kill you." He touched it to his mouth, smearing it on the tip of his nose on accident. Viktor threw him an affronted look even as he licked it hesitantly. He'd had something similar years ago, at a popular shop down in the lanes. The chicken was fried to death and it tasted heavenly. 

Jayce raised his eyebrows, hand still hovering near his lips and Viktor pulled the meat off with his teeth, chewing dejectedly. It was hard to put up a front when one singular bite was enough to make him burst into tears of relief. 

"There you go," his partner huffed, picking up another piece and wolfing it down with no modicum of grace. 

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Jayce licked his fingers, his box already halfway empty. He gestured at him with his fork, lips shiny with oil. He was sporting a hint of stubble around his jaw. 

"So," he said, "how have you been?" 

Viktor's stomach growled, already starting to turn at the influx of sodium and grease. He felt slightly queasy but no less satisfied as he wiped his hands on his trousers, resolving to put them in the laundry bin later. 

"As well as I can be," he replied, "I've started working for Heimerdinger again."

Jayce nodded even as the line of his lips thinned. 

"Yeah, I've heard. Sky asked around when you stopped showing up at the lab. We pretty much figured you needed some time to yourself."

It wasn't exactly the truth, but Viktor decided that it sounded better than anything he could offer up as an explanation. 
I'm sorry for disappearing, I no longer felt needed and you seemed to be doing well on your own. Ha. 

Nodding, he gave Jayce a quick bashful smile, trying to come across as sincere and not dodgy. "You could say that."

He almost wished he hadn't looked as Jayce's expression crumpled, forehead wrinkling as he shifted from reserved to outright offended.

"We're friends, right?"

Viktor blinked, frowning in confusion. 

"Of course we are."

"Then why didn't you text or call me back at all when I asked if you were okay?" he asked, affronted. "All I got from you was a message saying "Busy. Will explain later." and then I didn't hear from you for nearly half a month. Friends don't do that."

Wracking his brain, Viktor tried to recall if he had ever received a similar message. He winced as he remembered a notification from Jayce's number, on a day when he had felt too low to even read it more than once. He had scanned the text and shot back a non-reply, resolving to tackle the issue the following day, which had turned into a week, then two. 

"I'm sorry," he said, "It slipped my mind."

"Hm," Jayce replied, skepticism loud in his expression. He breathed a deep sigh as if to collect himself before putting his fork down on his plate with a small clatter. "You know you can talk to me outside of our work, V. I'm- I'm not angry. I'm trying to understand what I can do to make your recovery better for you, but I get the feeling you don't want to open up."

Viktor was half-compelled to start the same old spiel they had gone over in at least a thousand variations. He didn't need Jayce's assistance and he wasn't trying to hide anything from him. The lines felt rehearsed even as he prepared to lay them out on his tongue. 
It was no use. He had tried to push any thought of Jayce out of his mind for the better part of his self-isolation. Confronted with the man and his infuriating eagerness, he wanted nothing more than to beg him to stay. He had to admit that regardless of his accusing stare, his company had transformed the room into something more colorful that Viktor couldn't help but secretly marvel at. 

"I'm losing my mind," he blurted out, forming a flailing half-circle with his hands as he made an aborted sweep across the room. "The boredom will be what ends me at this point. I tried to do exactly what the doctors told me, which is nothing, but it feels like a huge waste of time to me. They've put a damper on everything that makes me feel like a person and now I just exist as a personification of all the things I hate. I didn't want to burden you with that since I'm sure you have more important things to worry about."

He flopped back down in his seat, wheelchair creaking slightly under the added pressure. 
Putting his elbows on his armrests, he rubbed at his eyes furiously. 

"Okay," said Jayce. "Thanks for sharing."

He stood up in one swift motion, hurriedly pushing the chair back as he stumbled toward the doorway, the rest of his food still warm and untouched in its box. 

Viktor followed him with his gaze, releasing the brakes as he spun around incredulously. 

"You're leaving?"

The embarrassment of having his confession out in the open, only to be ruthlessly ignored was almost too much to fathom.

Jayce almost broke his neck at the vehemency with which he shook his head, holding up both hands placatingly. 

"I'll be back. Let me just get my things."

He turned the corner, Viktor hot on his trail. 

"Jayce," he protested, entirely dumbfounded. "What do you mean, you'll get your things?"

His partner bent down, shirt riding up as he tied his shoes. He shrugged casually as he grabbed his jacket off the hook. 

"Uh, isn't it obvious?" he said, gesturing between them. "Say hello to your new roommate."

"You can't be serious," Viktor stammered even as he pulled the door open behind him, wind rushing in and tousling his hair. 

It clicked shut behind him before he could process the lunacy of the situation. With nothing better to do, he rolled back to the kitchen and put a lid on Jayce's takeout box, staring blankly out the window. 

Half an hour later, his partner returned, chest heaving like he had run the entire way. He set down his backpack and sauntered back into the kitchen like nothing was amiss, finishing his food with a renewed appetite. 

They didn't talk about the specifics of their living situation once it became apparent that Jayce wasn't playing an elaborate joke on him.

Viktor had anticipated a couple of days, a week at most, before the other man grew tired of having to wash his hair in the sink as the shower was still unusable in the evenings. He watched him shiver in front of the broken heater and tolerated him pushing his wheelchair around to show him new sketches he was working on in the living room that he had claimed for himself, and still, he wouldn't leave.

Two weeks passed and he began to suspect that there was no punchline, and Jayce had simply made due on his promise to stay.

As much as it puzzled him, the loneliness abated bit by bit and he refused to test his luck.

It wasn't a perfect arrangement by any means. On top of everything he had observed from the man in their years of shared sleep deprivation, he bore witness to Jayce's fits of restlessness that wouldn't let up until he had solved whatever problem he had set his mind to. That usually included finishing an assignment or going over his pre-written speech until he had it down to the last word, but on some days, it extended to seemingly arbitrary tasks around the apartment that got in the way of Viktor's rigid set of rules. Dishes had to be rearranged until he couldn't find his cups anymore. Unable to answer a question on his latest science paper, Jayce scrubbed the bathroom tiles in anger until Viktor nearly wet his pants, pounding furiously on the door. He almost kicked him out when he found his books out of order, no longer sorted by thematics but stacked neatly side by side, forming an ensemble of covers that ranged from darkest to lightest. 

Despite his frantic efforts to categorize Viktor's memorabilia visually, he still left his laundry crumpled in the machine from time to time, a misstep only forgiven by the fact that he very clearly tried to make himself as helpful as possible.

He expanded his range of recipes daily, asking Viktor about any food he was particularly fond of or that he had the urgent desire to try. His cooking was solid, and it was a testament to his dedication that he kept trying even as Viktor left some of his plates untouched. No matter the occasional fumble with too much salt, it was a mile above whatever he had scraped together before, convincing himself that Jayce was right and he no longer needed to be dead-set on avoiding any semblance of actual flavor as long as he got his nutrients and vitamins and slept a ton. Once he no longer feared imminent death, he set aside his stubbornness and joined him in his dinner preparations, delegating the rest of his tasks and his job to the earlier half of his day. They ate together in silence just as they had done the first day, which lessened the sting of Jayce's announcement that he was heading to the lab to check on their experiments. It wasn't technically off-limits for Viktor to join him once the strain of their workload no longer had a hold on him, but he still felt like additional baggage as long as his visit served no actual purpose, so he did his calculations in private during Jayce's absence. There was a voice screaming at him to stop him from going at the beginning, but it quieted down with every knock on the door that announced his partner's return. 

"Do you not miss your apartment?" he finally had the courage to ask one evening in early spring as they brushed their teeth together after stuffing their faces with chili, Jayce barefoot and seated on the rim of the bathtub to be at eye-level with him. 

"I only use it to drop stuff off and sleep, and I can do the second part here," he said, a small smudge of white around the corner of his mouth, and that was the end of that. 

Jayce didn't leave on Fridays to spend the night at Mel's, although he still mentioned her occasionally, and Viktor wasn't sure how to approach that conversation, so he locked the thought away behind a wall of reminders that was slowly beginning to crumble and tried not to stare at the other man's lips, or his hair, or the smooth planes of his abdomen as he stretched. 

Which worked as well as expected, as the memory of their almost-kiss at the solstice and their second encounter at the hospital replayed in his head at the oddest of moments. 

He watched him set out two cups of milk tea for the both of them, an alternative to coffee they had settled on, eyes glued to the curve of his throat as he nipped at Viktor's mug. 

Jayce made a face, sticking out his tongue. "Eugh. How do you drink this stuff? That's way too sweet."

Sweet, sweet, sweet. That's what he would taste like right now, Viktor's mind supplied unhelpfully. 

When he eventually accompanied Jayce on one of his periodic lab runs, it wasn't on his own volition.

His partner had mentioned that Sky had a problem with her thesis, giving him a meaningful look. As much as Viktor dreaded feeling useless amidst their previous projects and innovations, he had too much of a bleeding heart to deny his friend a helping hand. His visit would serve a purpose this time around, and he had missed talking to the young woman whenever the realization of only having spoken to Jayce and his landlord in the last couple of weeks hit him. 

Giving his wheelchair a push, Viktor maneuvered the entrance hall, preparing himself for the inevitable mortification of being carried up the stairs by the other man. 

A hand on the back of his chair stopped him and he turned his head to frown at Jayce. 

"We're not doing that today," he smiled, gesturing towards the other end of the hall. 

Viktor couldn't help his unbelieving expression. "You fixed the elevator?"

"Sure did," Jayce answered, puffing out his chest. They reached the sliding doors and he pushed a button that lit up, waiting as the car descended to their level. The doors opened with a melodic ping and Viktor was ushered inside. 

Their lab hadn't changed much since he had last seen it. 

Papers were scattered across their table and Jayce had left his hammer at the workbench, but the air still carried a faint trace of machine oil and mild solvent and his abandoned robotic prototypes twitched and whirred like the ticking of a clock. 
Despite his reservations about returning, the lump in his throat abated at the familiarity of his workplace. 

Sky was leaning over a small desk in the back end of the room, chewing on a pen and she flicked through her notebook. She perked up as soon as the doors drew shut behind them with a muted clang, something like relief washing over her features as she saw Viktor behind Jayce's broad figure. 

In a chair next to their window, another person lounged like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

He was less surprised to see Mel Medarda in his lab than the last time. 

"Viktor!" Sky cried, abandoning her writing as she rushed over to him. She drew him into a slightly awkward but no less enthusiastic hug, curls tickling his face as she buried her nose in the crook of his neck. 

"Hello Sky," Viktor huffed, patting her on the back. They had never been the type to share physical affection as casually as he and Jayce, but he couldn't bring himself to recoil at the touch, not when her voice was thick with emotion.

Stepping back with shining eyes, Sky rocked on her heels. "It's been so long," she said, cheeks reddening. "I didn't think you'd come back until the end of summer. N–not that I'm not happy to see you."

"This is my lab, too," Viktor told her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "If I don't check up on you from time to time, I'm afraid of what Jayce might do with the place. He's been treating you well, I assume?"

Sky shot Jayce a surprised glance as he crossed his arms across his chest, relaxing at his easygoing grin. 

"Exceptionally so," she assured him, gesturing towards the window. "Mel has been helping, too, and we've made a lot of progress! Would you like to see it?"

Viktor nodded, letting Jayce push him towards where the women had already huddled together. 
Mel shot him a quick look, waving at him with an amused expression. Her hair was in a long plait down her back. Viktor quirked an eyebrow at her, eyes flitting across the table. 

"It's good to see you," she said, "Jayce and I have been working together on a strategy to get the investors on our side. Of course, I've done my part, as promised." 

Recalling their talk at the hospital, Viktor remembered asking her to fund their project if she truly wanted to aid in his recovery. It would be the first step in a line of many, something to kickstart the production of more prosthetics for those who truly needed them, without being entirely reliant on the goodwill of Piltover's richest snobs and benefactors. 

Thankful, he pulled the handbrakes of his chair, watching with bated breath and no small shred of awe as Jayce pulled away the sheet that had been thrown over their prototype, revealing a bionic arm that looked like it had always been part of a living organism, a perfect replica of a human limb except for its gold and metal coloring. 

Mel picked up a page from the pile and handed it to him. 

It was a sketch of their prototype, arrows extending from its center in all directions. Viktor recognized Jayce's scraggly handwriting as he scanned some of the notes that had been added to the schematic. 

"You want to reduce costs for victims of mining and factory accidents?" he asked finally, stuck on a particular sentence. 

"Our goal is to improve the lives of people who don't have a safety cushion like the rest of us," Jayce shrugged, showing him another picture that depicted human silhouettes of differing sizes, some small enough to represent children. Most of them had mechanic arms on either side of their body, but a few had been drawn with artificial legs. Viktor blinked, heart stuttering in his chest. 

"We start by providing them with the means to continue their jobs so they won't lose their livelihoods, and then we work on making those jobs safer for them so other accidents can be prevented in the future. Mel has some ideas on how to rally together enough support for the council to listen to us."

"This isn't just about introducing a new product to the market," the woman added, drawing herself up to her full height, "it's about making a statement. You're treading a dangerous path by differentiating between who gets help, and who doesn't, so we have to use that deciding power to our utmost advantage. Make it clear to everyone who you're advocating for."

"Not everyone will be on board," Viktor said carefully, "It could cost you. As somebody who grew up around miners, I can tell you that that sort of business usually gets covered up. The higher-ups won't appreciate the attention."

He raised his gaze, intrigued. Above his head, Mel and Jayce shared an unreadable look. 

"The smartest man I know once told me," Jayce answered, turning his head to smile at him, brown eyes incredibly fond, "If you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission."

All of a sudden it was summer, and rain poured from a dark and cloudy sky onto the pavement. 

He had patrolled the university grounds after hours, meticulously locking every classroom on his way. At the height of exam season, it wasn't uncommon to find the occasional tired student taking a nap at their desk. The alchemy laboratory had been the last stop on his tour, and he had given the door an impatient rap with his knuckles, shaking the young man who had dozed off at the workbench out of his slumber. 

"You're not allowed to sleep in here," he had reprimanded him, catching a glimpse of his face and noticing a blue stain on the side of his cheek.
The student had sighed when he pointed it out, turning to leave. 

"It's a good thing my calculations were off," he had muttered under his breath, "or else this probably would have dissolved half of my head."

Pausing, Viktor had thrown him a quizzical stare. "You're not allowed to experiment with dangerous chemicals, either. I'll have to report this incident to the dean. Name?"

"Talis," the young man had answered, still drowsy enough to comply without attempting to lie his way out of the situation. "Uh, Jayce. And you don't understand, I wasn't trying to create a poison or something of the sort. I wanted to create a cure for freezing, something that makes you invulnerable to cold temperatures. A temporary booster that beats even the harshest conditions. Something that could save lives."

Viktor had narrowed his eyes at his tone. 

"That sounds an awful lot like meddling with magic."

The young man, Jayce, had held up a hand to stop him. "Not magic. Science. I believe that we are capable of so much more than what we let ourselves believe. I'm trying to prove that the powers of mankind rival those of the Arcane. We can achieve the same results with human technology once we stop watching from the sidelines and take the initiative."

Distant thunder sounded from outside. In the dim light of the classroom, Jayce's eyes shone with burning intensity. 

"Can you prove your theory?" Viktor had asked him, keys jingling in his hand as he pointed a finger at him. 
"Given more time," Jayce had told him, steadfast.

A day had been all the time Viktor had allowed him, meeting him after class in the same lab. His calculations had needed some adjustment, and his execution lacked finesse, but he had decided to let him off the hook after witnessing his faithful determination. Unbeknownst to him at the moment, the other man had infected him with the same unwavering hope. He didn't stand a chance against him from the very beginning.

"The higher-ups will have to learn that nothing will ever cost them more than getting on my bad side," Mel sneered, bringing him back to the present. 
"Consider this an unofficial test. The ones who oppose our endeavor will be the first ones I strip of their titles once I become head of the council."

Her voice was prim enough to pass as an empty threat, but Viktor didn't doubt that she would write down every name that crossed her. 

Suddenly overcome with pride, he took a deep breath to collect himself, fighting the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. 
He nodded at Sky, who beamed at his acknowledgment, then at Mel, who inclined her head with a smirk, before finally settling on Jayce. 

"I have nothing but faith in your abilities," he told his team earnestly. "This is only the beginning, and there's no one else I would like to have at my side. I'm...glad."

Night had descended over the city like a heavy blanket, illuminating the rooftops in a somber blue glow. As they trudged along a tree-lined street on their way back to Viktor's – their shared – apartment, the world almost seemed to fade away, suspended in stillness.

Beneath them, the river lapped and clawed against the embankment, its waters a pitch-dark reflection of the starless sky above. 

Jayce whistled a quiet tune as he pushed Viktor's chair, a lonely melody in the gentle breeze. Something was bubbling up inside the other man the longer he listened wordlessly. He felt his heart pound against the confines of his ribcage, painful and familiar, the sensation an old friend he had long identified. 

No matter how much he changed, the feeling remained a constant. He was sure it would cling to his being, even if he became unrecognizable. It was a truth as indisputable as the air he breathed: the moon rose in the east, the stars shone cold and brilliant, and as long as the world turned on its axis, Viktor would continue to be in love with Jayce Talis—likely even beyond that.

He felt compelled to tell him as much as they arrived on his doorstep and their fingers touched as he handed his partner the keys.

His throat was dry as he swallowed, biting his tongue. A million words wouldn’t be enough to convey what he felt for the other man, nor would they ever make him his—something he had vowed to accept with grace. Jayce’s heart belonged to someone else, and Viktor no longer struggled to reconcile the person he felt deserved someone like him with Mel Medarda. In another universe, they could have been friends, he thought, and laughed to himself. Maybe they still could be, in this one. Jayce’s feelings for her were proof of her character, and Viktor was content to love him from afar, as long as he could keep him in his life. 

They left their shoes at the door.

I love you, Viktor wanted to whisper into his ear as he added sugar to his tea unprompted.
He wanted to shout it at the top of his lungs as Jayce opened the window to let in a gust of night air. 
As they brushed their teeth, having changed into their pajamas, he wanted to taste the toothpaste that Jayce left smeared across the corner of his mouth like he always did, imagined licking it clean as he dug his nails into the skin of his palm. 

Because Viktor was a coward, and because he loved him too much to risk losing him, he quietly bid him goodnight at the door to his room, ignoring the way Jayce lingered as it clicked shut.

He pushed his wheelchair to the edge of his small bed, hoisting himself up with weak arms as he balanced on his good leg, crawling under the covers with some trouble.

The lights were off and the curtains were drawn as he stared at the ceiling, willing his pulse to slow down.

Despite the late hour, sleep evaded him.

His body felt on high alert, practically vibrating with inexplicable energy as he tossed and turned. There was no logical reason for him to be so wound up—none, except for the flood of images that refused to dissipate, all circling around one man.

He felt too hot all at once, burning up under the blanket, resting the back of his hand against his forehead.

Groaning in frustration, he rolled over and tossed the covers aside, burying his face in the soft fabric of his pillow as the sweat on his skin dried, his shirt riding up in the process.

Get it together, Viktor reminded himself, counting the seconds to fall asleep as a way to distract himself.

One, two, three, four...

... two hundred seventy—

The door creaked open.

"Can I come in?" Jayce whispered, frozen to the spot. He looked just as tired as Viktor felt.

Mutely, Viktor nodded and regarded him with bated breath as the other man sat down at the end of his bed, mattress dipping under his weight. His back was rounded as he let his head hang between his shoulders.

"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered back, flopping onto his side and watching him with half-lidded eyes.

Jayce ran a hand through his hair. Little strands stuck to his temples. 

"You could say that. Today was weird."

"Is something the matter?"

"It's Mel," he answered. Viktor was grateful the darkness obscured the twist of his mouth. 

His partner chewed on his bottom lip as he continued. "Working with her, it's something I'm not used to. I'm glad she's helping out, but I don't really know how to act around her anymore."

The sheets rustled as he slid his hands to the back. Cocking his head, Jayce glanced at him like he was waiting for an answer. Viktor refused to rise to the bait. Their relationship was not something he cared to interfere in. 

"We broke up," Jayce said suddenly. 

Viktor bit back a startled sound, heart leaping into his throat. 

"But," he choked out, voice too loud in the silence, "you love her." It wasn't a question.

"I do."

"Then why...?"

The taller man shifted, scooting closer. Viktor saw more than felt him lean against his thigh. His leg remained stiff and immobile as he imagined the warmth of his back against his clammy skin. 

"There were things we realized we couldn't ignore any longer." The flickering shadows played across Jayce's face as he furrowed his brow. In the dim light of Viktor's room, he no longer seemed soft or uncertain. The proud line of his nose and the sharp angle of his jaw stood out like cut glass, his features unreadable in a way that made the darkness around him feel dangerous.

He didn't look sad, only contemplative.

"I'm sorry," he forced himself to say nevertheless. "For what it's worth, I believe there's still hope she'll come back around. I saw the way she looked at you while you were talking."

"You saw that, but you didn't–"

There was a sudden burst of movement, and a solid pressure against Viktor's chest that caused him to freeze, air stuck in his lungs. 
Hair tickled his nose as he slowly released the breath he had been holding. His hands shook as he rested them atop Jayce's shoulders.

His pulse fluttered as the other man's lips ghosted his throat. 

"Can you do something for me, V?" Jayce asked into the space between his neck and collarbone, his breath hot against his skin. Strong arms rested on either side of Viktor's hips, caging him in. He was splayed across his upper body, resting on his stomach. The planes of his back were blue in the moonlight.

Viktor shook his head, clutching the fabric of his shirt and finding it damp to the touch. He couldn't move a muscle, face undoubtedly reddening as he stared down, transfixed. His heart was beating like a sledgehammer, and Jayce's head was resting against his chest. His ruse had ended.

"Can you ask me what I wanted to tell you at the hospital?" Jayce repeated imploringly, lifting his head. His brows were drawn together in a silent plea. He was almost begging. 

"I don't–"

A hand trailed up his wrist, the touch feather-light. It covered his own, intertwining their fingers. Viktor trembled. 

"What did you..."

He wasn't sure if it was Jayce who rose up to meet him, or if he lowered his face, compelled by some unseen force. 
Sucking in a breath, Viktor fought to keep the distance between them even as the ghost of his partner's lips danced across his chin, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

"I want you," Jayce whispered against him, the heat of his body intoxicating. It was much too tempting to drown in his embrace. "Breathe, V."

Viktor slammed into him with all the desperation of a drowning man. 

The first touch of their lips was awkwardly timed, teeth clacking before they found a rhythm. It was a push and pull that left him breathless, brain slowly rebooting after his initial daze. 
He melted against the plush skin, opening his mouth a fraction to deepen their kiss. Hesitantly, he licked into Jayce's mouth, blood rushing in his ears as he groaned in return. 

"You have no idea –" his partner choked out, breaking contact to gasp for air, "– how long I've wanted to do this."

Oh, but I do, Viktor thought, pulling him back in. 

"I like you so much," Jayce gasped, unoccupied hand slipping under the material of his shirt, "I thought I was going crazy, because all I– Ah! All I could think about was you."

His fingertips were warm against his cold skin as they trailed the bumps of his spine, dipping lower, down the curve of his back. Viktor panted, biting his lip and pulling at it with his teeth, needing more. 

His entire body was buzzing. He felt –

"I think I've always known," Jayce murmured against his mouth, almost reverent. Their hands were wound together so tightly that Viktor couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. "I think I'm in l–"

"Tomorrow," he breathed, shutting him up with another press of his lips. Tell me tomorrow, and the day after, and every day that follows. I'll be there. 

He felt alive. 

Chapter Text

Dust tickled Jayce's nose, and he blinked awake. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly, his muscles sore, his face smushed against the pillow on one side.

Awareness crept back to him slowly, sleep loosening its hold as he let out a sigh of contentment. His fingers curled beneath the warmth of the blanket. As he shifted to find a more comfortable position, his back nudged into a solid heat and he felt a soft huff of breath against his shoulder. Stilling, his mind sprung into action. An arm—slender and light—was draped around his waist. Jayce’s heart gave a small skip as his memory returned, the realization hitting him with a giddy elation that spread through his chest.

Viktor is a snuggler, was the first thought that flitted through his mind, unable to help the grin that took over his face, wide enough to hurt. He was a snuggler, and his hair was soft. He was ticklish around the side of his neck and on the inner skin of his thighs. He flushed easily, and when he did, his eyes looked more gold than amber, depending on the light. He was –

"Stop squirming," a tired voice mumbled into his back.

"Sorry," Jayce whispered, not apologetic in the slightest. Despite himself, he wriggled in his embrace until he faced him, peering down at him with fondness. An unruly strand curled around his ears as he burrowed deeper into his warmth, tightening his hold instinctually. Staring at their blurry shadow on the wall, Jayce pressed a kiss to the crown of his head before he could stop himself. Viktor made a pleased noise against his chest, sounding close to a purr. 

Traffic sounded faintly through the curtains. Jayce closed his eyes for a second, relishing in the peace of the moment, before he cleared his throat. "It's almost noon."

Viktor murmured something unintelligible that he interpreted as a half-hearted argument to stay in bed, face still hidden beneath the covers. Chuckling, Jayce ran hand along the curve of his shoulder, down the line of his arm. Careful not to startle him, he lifted it to place it gently against the pillow, rolling out of bed. Shuffling over to the bathroom, he rinsed his mouth over the sink. In the quiet company of his thoughts, he didn't know whether he should be concerned about having missed half a day of class or worried that he couldn't muster up an ounce of care. He decided that nothing was urgent enough to warrant missing out on an extra few hours with his partner, upcoming presentation be damned.

The rest of the morning, he was in a state of dazed satisfaction, his mind blissfully empty as he set out two mugs on the counter, adding a spoonful of sugar to only one. Yawning, he rolled his neck, opening the top cabinet to grab another pair of plates. There was a light creaking noise near the doorway. The kettle hissed.

It was a day he had lived countless times before. 

Viktor looked decisively worse for wear as he rolled up to the table, pulling the handbrakes and waiting for him to sit down across from him. His hair stuck up in odd directions and his eyes were unfocused as he reached for his mug, recoiling at the heat before Jayce could warn him. He was cranky until the sugar hit his system, and when he was awake enough to form a sentence, he started complaining about the shower running cold again, sipping at his sweetened tea between bursts of criticism. 

Like any other morning, Jayce watched him, arm propped on the table. He had long observed that Viktor talked with his hands whenever he wanted to convey a message. Repeating that his landlord was a lazy good-for-nothing, his brows wrinkled as his sleep-addled mind tried to remember the right phrasing. He paused in his ramblings after it had dawned on him that he wasn't listening, shooting him an unamused look.

"The least you could do is pretend you're paying attention."

"I was," Jayce protested, a persistent smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I am."

Narrowing his eyes, Viktor set his mug down on the table. 

"Alright," he sighed, "out with it. What are you thinking about?"

You, Jayce wanted to say, if only to see the tips of his ears turn red. It was what had echoed in his mind for weeks, although he could never bring himself to tell him, biting his lip and clenching his fist under the table. 

Tomorrow. 

Remembering his partner's breathless voice, his hands in his hair – around his neck– and the way he had sagged against him in the dark of his room, shaking all over and laughing quietly, he leaned forward.

"I'm in love with you," he said, and that was a first.

Predictably, Viktor froze in his seat, lips pressed against each other in a thin line. He cleared his throat, pupils blown wide, and picked up his mug. Jayce waited for him to respond with bated breath, reaching for his other hand and squeezing it gently. 

"Mhh," the other man hummed, voice slightly off-key, before falling silent again. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to turn around and escape the conversation, so Jayce simply smiled at him, drawing a circle with his thumb. After a while, it became apparent that there was nothing more to be said, and he switched the topic. His partner's silence stung a little, but there was no reason for him to press him for an answer. It had felt gratifying enough to speak what had consumed his waking thoughts out loud. 

They cleaned up their plates and Jayce decided to skip class entirely, making small additions to his presentation and reading a book on the couch. Viktor joined him, papers in hand, and soon his note-taking devolved into scribbles and hasty sketches, brought to paper in between stealing secretive glances at the other man when he was preoccupied with his assignments. 

Viktor made the mistake of asking him why he was smiling at his notes like a maniac and Jayce told him truthfully, repeating his answer from before. After another awkward moment of silence, the other man turned back to his stack of documents, the shadows only half hiding the flush of his cheeks. He didn't ask him again.

The sun set behind the rooftops and Jayce busied himself in the kitchen, cooking them a quick dinner before it was time for him to head to the lab. After, he washed their dishes in the sink and dried off his hands on his shirt, heading over to the door. He had tied his boots and slipped into his jacket by the time Viktor's head peeked out from the doorway.

"Don't blow up the place," he told him, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"You know me," Jayce replied with a huff, pulling the handle. "I'll see you in a few hours. Love you."

He was already outside before Viktor’s smile could drop, chuckling softly to himself as he disappeared into the evening.

By a stroke of luck, he ran into Mel in the hallway the next day. 

She turned as he lifted his hand to wave at her, calling her name over the heads of other students, some of whom threw him odd glances. He paid them no mind as he weaved his way through the crowd, gripping the bag he had carelessly thrown over his shoulder. Mel gave him a polite nod as he fell into step with, turning the corner to the staircase and climbing up another flight of steps, taking two at a time as he hurried to keep up with her brisk pace.

She slowed down just outside the debate classroom, tilting her chin to look up at him. 

"Is something the matter?" she asked, glancing back at the door. "You're lucky my professor is chronically late. I probably have a few minutes to spare." As if to emphasize her point, the classroom opposite her side of the wall shut with a click. 

"I wouldn't want to keep you," Jayce said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Rolling her eyes, Mel gestured for him to follow her to a bench, setting down her bag before taking a seat herself. He mirrored her, hands folded in his lap as he sent her a crooked grin. She raised an eyebrow in return.

A year ago, he would have dropped everything at a chance to talk to her privately. He remembered scrambling to come up with a funny retort to her questions, or laughing the loudest whenever she shared a joke with her group of friends. In retrospect, a significant part of him felt embarrassed at how desperate he had been for her attention. Belatedly, he felt the need to apologize for his behavior, and then some. 

"Hi," he said instead.

"Hi?" she repeated, a silent question in her voice. 

They hadn't talked much outside of the lab ever since their last conversation. What he had told Viktor that night was true. He feared that he had caused a permanent rift in their relationship that even time couldn't fully heal. After the other man's accident, he had been too worried about him to concern himself with much else, but now that the dust had settled and he felt like he could breathe again, the old guilt had returned, only worsening every time he saw her at the Academy and she gave him a weak smile before slipping past him again.

He had planned to reach out to her once he had rehearsed everything he wanted to say, but seeing her after she had shown them her support for their project, he had made the impulsive decision to take a leap and roll along with the things that came to mind.

"It's good to see you again. I missed you."

Mel shook her head, laughing under her breath. "You saw me two days ago, Jayce. Don't tell me you couldn't survive on your own for that long."

Chuckling, he shrugged.

"It wasn't only the two of us, then. I didn't get the chance to ask you how you were doing, for starters."

Something shifted in her gaze as she drew back a little, eyes hardening. "Is that what we're doing now?"

"We used to," Jayce replied, letting the sentence hang in the air between them. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue his point, mouth snapping shut as she seemed to struggle with finding the right words. One of her hands drifted down to rest in the space between their legs. When she realized how close she had come to touching him, she moved to withdraw but his fingers closed around her wrist. Staring at him, her eyes were large and unsure.

"I'm fine," she said, "As fine as I can be, I suppose. There's a lot I have to do before the semester ends and some of the guild merchants have been pestering me about Piltover's foreign trade relations. They're acting like I'm already on the council."

"Whatever gave them the impression," Jayce grinned, keeping his tone as light as he could. Mel smiled at his joke, furrowing her brows.

"Well, I must admit that it doesn't really make a difference. As far as I'm aware, the council doesn't simply invite you to join them, but I have received word of a gathering that's happening at the end of summer and I have been promised a spot on the guest list. They probably consider it an opportunity to scout for promising candidates since one of them is reportedly looking for a successor, so chances are, I'll have a good shot at making a lasting impression if they deem me up to their standards."

"Councilor Medarda. I like the tone of that." He paused, expression turning sincere. "You know there's no way they'll pick anyone else. Not with your track record."

"Their loss if they don't," Mel said, but a shadow crossed her face. "I've been thinking a lot about what I want to achieve and if being on the council is the best way to go about it. On some days, I feel like they will never listen to what I have to say, not with all their rigid rules set in place that make it nearly impossible to suggest anything new. It would be easier to try my luck elsewhere, invest my money in something that requires a little less effort. It's what my mother would do, no doubt."

She slid her hand up higher, intertwining their fingers without glancing down.

"But I've realized... I want to help people. I care about what happens to this city just as much as I care about my own fortune. With everything that happened recently, with Viktor, and hearing your ideas for something that could truly improve lives, I can no longer pretend to be an outsider. It's why I have to continue on this path."

She turned her head to look at the window at the end of the hallway, sunlight reflecting in her earrings. 
Jayce bit his tongue as he watched her, realizing with a start that she was not much older than him. He barely felt like he knew what he was doing half the time, and she must have had similar doubts that she kept to herself. Mel, in his eyes, had always been infallible, the very picture of grace and composure down to the way she carried herself. It had taken him nearly a year to see behind the facade she had meticulously crafted. 

"I think you're the best thing that could have happened to this city," he told her, his conviction unwavering. Her hand was smooth and warm in his. There was no doubt in his mind that she belonged at the very top, a missing piece that fit perfectly into the ranks of the powerful. It wasn’t her name or wealth that solidified his trust in her—it was her dedication. If anyone could lead the council in a new direction, it was her.

Out of everyone, she had chosen to confide in him. Girlfriend, friend, benefactor—it all seemed too trivial to categorize what she was to him. He was simply grateful for the glimpse of that other, hidden side of her she had allowed him to see.

He could sense her smile, still facing away from him. 

"What about you?" she asked, gently releasing his hand. "Have you resolved your... issue?"

Jayce laughed, thinking of brown hair and tired eyes that gleamed gold. He wondered what Viktor was doing alone in his apartment. Was he done with his work for the day, reading a book by the window? Was he already fixated on whatever project he had set his sights on, glossing over the fact that they had yet to successfully pull off their initial presentation in that stubborn way of his? 

"You could say that," he smiled, not bothering to hide his fondness. 

Mel stiffened, if just for a second. She glanced back at him over her shoulder and he watched her eyes as they searched for any sign of disagreement on his face, knowing she would only find an open expression of simple happiness. Her gaze softened and she sighed, nodding in return. 

"I'm happy to hear that," she told him, "I mean it."

"Viktor is thankful for everything you've done to help us," he said sheepishly, "In case he didn't tell you. It's pretty obvious he respects you a lot. As do I, but you're well aware of that."

"You flatter me. His healing is going well, I assume?"

"Mostly," Jayce replied, head hanging low. "He's tougher than he looks, but it's an adjustment." Viktor was quick to bring up any problems he had with their performance at the lab, whacking him over the head with a notebook on several occasions, but trying to pry anything that concerned his well-being out of him was tedious work. At the beginning, he had felt like he was walking on eggshells, careful not to overstep. The situation had relaxed after he had unceremoniously volunteered to move into Viktor's apartment, the proximity lessening any inhibitions the other man had. He could see that he was struggling without having to be told. 

He suspected Mel might have sensed the change in his demeanor as well. She leaned towards him, briefly touching his thigh.

"Send him my regards. I do hope the search for a cure proves fruitful. If there is anything he needs, don't hesitate to let me know and I will do my best to help." Finding his gaze, her eyes were determined. "Both of you."

There was a flush on his cheeks as he thanked her. Not long after, a reptilian woman in Academy red hurried past them, keys jingling as she disappeared into the open classroom. 

"What did I tell you," Mel whispered to him, rising to her feet. She smoothed out her dress with both of her hands and bent down to grab her bag, following after her teacher. She was almost at the door before she paused. 

"I've missed you, too."

Her posture was tense and she sounded strangely earnest, with none of the usual melodic qualities that turned her voice into a weapon of persuasion. Jayce blinked at her, lifting a hand.

"Don't be a stranger."

Scoffing, Mel rolled her eyes at him. "As if I could ever stay away from you," she shot back, voice low as she straightened, familiar dazzling smile sliding back in place before she entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Weeks turned into months, and while things remained largely the same, an undercurrent of anticipation seeped into every moment of Jayce’s life. Many nights, he lay awake, listening to Viktor’s soft, even breathing through the paper-thin walls, trying to drown out the dread that clung to him in the face of his work’s inevitable conclusion. On nights when his anxiety threatened to consume him, he shuffled over to knock on Viktor’s door, and more often than not, didn’t return until the next morning, feeling a little lighter.

Summer painted the city in vibrant splashes of color, announcing the upcoming festivities, and they opened their windows after the sun had dipped below the horizon, letting the cool air wash away the sweltering heat of their apartment. Their apartment was what Jayce called it in his head, a thought that made his heart skip a beat despite there never having been a moment where they had discussed the implications of sharing the same set of rooms.

He didn't remember when he had moved the remainder of his belongings – at least, everything of value to him – into Viktor's spare room, or when he had started paying half of his rent. One early morning, he woke up to stumble into the kitchen in a daze and grab his favorite cup without looking, pausing when it had dawned on him that he could navigate his surroundings blindly. Another day, he caught himself sharing Viktor's sentiment about their landlord, shutting his mouth with a click before he could finish his sentence. The shower had started bothering him, too, and he took it upon himself to knock on the older man's door, surprised to hear him call him "the other guy upstairs". The problem was resolved swiftly, and he laughed at Viktor's grumbled protest that it had only been fixed because Jayce was the one who asked, shutting him up with a kiss. 

That was another thing he had discovered he could do without much preamble. 
Viktor liked to visit the riverbanks and Jayce was more than happy to push his wheelchair along the edge of the water whenever he asked him to. They watched the waves reflect the sky and the city above, and sometimes Viktor's eyes lit up with something akin to wonder. Beautiful was not a word that described him in those quiet moments. Jayce stared at him, admiring the softness of his expression like someone admired the stars. Viktor made a surprised noise as their lips touched, the other man bent over the back of his chair, face upside down. He smiled against his mouth, feeling the last missing piece he had been searching for all those months slotting into place.

Two weeks before the end of the school year, Jayce arrived to the lab to find a familiar face waiting for him.

"There was nobody at your apartment," his mother told him, "A nice young lady told me I could wait for you here."

From the corner of his eye, Jayce saw Sky shoot him a shy look before turning back to the workbench. He grinned. 

"Ah, I forgot to tell you. I don't really live there anymore."

Explaining to his mother that he had moved in with his best friend took less effort than he had anticipated. As soon as he had mentioned Viktor's accident, her face had crumpled and she had pulled him along, demanding to meet him. Luckily, Viktor had already finished the last batch of documents that Heimerdinger had dropped on him for the day when they arrived and he let her fuss over him with the patience of a saint, reassuring her at least a hundred times that he was fine and that his condition wasn't worsening as long as he took his medicine and avoided stress. 

Explaining to her that his best friend was also the man he was kissing on a regular basis – among other things – was, unfortunately, just as uncomfortable as expected. Viktor had predictably left the room as soon as his mother had asked him about Mel and his initial version of events, stammered and incoherent as it was, had only confused her more. 

"But why would she not want you to be with your partner?" she asked, brows wrinkling. 

"Because Viktor, he's –" not just my partner, he's my boyfriend? Not officially, but isn't that the correct term? Face red, Jayce dragged a hand through his hair, feeling compelled to pull out every strand individually. 

"I like him, in the same way I like her," he settled on, wanting to sink into his seat and disappear. 

His mother blinked at him, then glanced at the doorway for a moment. 
She lowered her gaze, watching him fiddle with the cuffs of his sleeves. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she rested a hand on his knee, patting it gently like he was a child. 

"I see," she said softly. "I'm relieved he has you to look out for him. I don't have to worry about you boys anymore."

There was a lump in his throat as he nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Part of him doubted that he was the one who kept an eye on Viktor, and not the other way around. It seemed that whenever the mountain of worries he carried around with him threatened to crush him, the other man was there to help him carry the weight. 

He didn't think it was something he could ever tell him in a convincing way, so he kept silent, holding the knowledge close to his heart. 

In truth, Viktor's comforting presence was the only constant that kept him afloat as the day of his final presentation neared. 
They had left for the Academy in the early morning hours, saying their goodbyes at the entrance of the great assembly hall. Viktor spun around in his wheelchair and headed to join the front of the crowd that had already gathered. Jayce watched him greet Heimerdinger, the professor still no taller than half his height, before he nearly dropped his cards, hands shaking as he bent down to gather the few that had fallen under his seat. When he resurfaced again, Viktor's back was turned, engaged in lively conversation with the dean. 

Jayce took a deep breath to steady himself, checking to see if Sky had already arrived with their prototype. 

He felt lightheaded all of a sudden, the room spinning around him. His fear of missing the mark, proving to everyone that he couldn't deliver on what he had set out to prove, nearly suffocated him and he staggered to his feet, slipping past the opened door to lean his back against the cold stone wall, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly that black dots danced around the edges of his vision. 

The door creaked as it opened again a few seconds later.

"Everything alright?" Viktor asked, giving his wheelchair a push so he could face him. 

I'm fine, Jayce wanted to say, but his voice died in his throat. 
He reached out a hand, only relaxing marginally as he felt Viktor's palm slide against his, tightening his hold. 

"What if they hate it?" he whispered. The second he had said the words, he wanted to take them back. It was irrational to the highest degree. He was well aware that he was acting like a child, and yet the walls seemed to close in on him. 
With a light bend of his arm, he pulled Viktor closer until their knees bumped. The other man had to crane his neck to look up at him, and he bit his lip, avoiding his gaze.

"What if they do?" Viktor asked him, no trace of judgment evident in his tone. "Will you abandon your work?"

"Of course not," Jayce huffed, letting the back of his head thud against the stone, face tilted up at the ceiling. There was a mosaic depicting the founding of the Academy that he hadn't noticed before. Rejoice! We vow to uphold the noble pursuit of progress, an engraving below read. 

"Then what's the matter?" 

Viktor tugged at his hand insistently. Jayce looked back at him, frowning despite himself. 
His partner's expression was baffled, his expressive eyes full of confusion. 

"We were in agreement that the prototype is functional," he said, "and you've been preparing your speech for the last five months. Have you changed your mind?"

"No," Jayce replied, too quickly. He exhaled, bending down to rest his arms on Viktor's knees, head dropping to his lap. His partner touched the crown of his head, running his fingers through the short hair at his nape. Jayce melted into the touch, uncaring of how their position must have looked to anybody who stumbled upon them. 

"Jayce," Viktor murmured, awfully gentle. "Talk to me."

"It's my graduation," he confessed. "The ceremony after doesn't matter, but this does. People will expect me to impress them. Our prototype is brilliant, but it was your idea. I'm just the guy presenting it to the public. I'm... afraid that this is the best I'll ever get. There are investors in the crowd that could turn away at any moment if I mess up. Of course, I have absolute trust in our work, but I don't know if I can trust myself."

His responsibility was not just to himself. For the first time since the Young Innovator's Competition, the success of others hinged on his ability to promise Piltover something grand. The arm was Viktor's creation, as much as the other man tried to deny it. Sky had invested hours of her time each week to help them, even though she had to work on her own project. Even Mel was someone he was in danger of disappointing the second time around. 

He needed everything to work out so badly that it nearly rendered him incapable of thinking. There was one voice that played on a loop in his head, telling him what he dreaded to hear. You're a fraud. You don't know what you're talking about. They can see right through you. Are you sure you're the one who should take all the credit?

"I can see you stressing."

His touch felt like a caress as Viktor's fingers lifted up his chin in a tender gesture. Jayce was drowning, hanging onto his every word like a lifeline.

"No matter what you think, I believe in you," his partner told him. With the light streaming in from behind, framed by the mosaic, he appeared almost angelic, brown curls forming a halo around his delicate features. "And don't tell me I don't know you well enough. We've been over this, and the sentiment remains the same. You're the most capable man in that entire room. While I was stuck at home, you left each evening to work tirelessly. I think that counts for something."

His finger ran along his bottom lip, not a kiss in the literal sense, but something not unlike it. 

"If you doubt yourself, I hope you don't doubt me. You once told me I was the smartest man you'd ever met, so my opinion should carry some weight. Here’s what I believe: You’ll step up onto that stage, stand before all those people, and you’ll be brilliant. You’ll win them over, because that’s what you were born to do. And when you hear their applause, you’ll realize that no one ever wanted you to fail. They believe in your greatness because you’ve shown them, time and time again, that they can rely on you."

He placed both hands on Jayce's shoulders, giving him a push that was feather-light.

"Can you do that for me?"

His answer came as naturally as breathing. 

Jayce’s heart raced as he approached the stage, his posture stiff as he ascended the short flight of stairs to the podium and took his place behind the curtain. He could hear Heimerdinger announcing the graduates who would present their final projects to the audience. Two spots ahead, he caught Sky’s nervous glance and gave her a quick thumbs-up, relieved when she pointed toward a covered object on a rolling cart. He nodded, his mind blank as the first names were called and the line ahead of him gradually thinned.

After what felt like an eternity, Heimerdinger’s booming voice echoed through the room.

“Our next contestant is a true powerhouse of ingenuity. You may have heard of him—he’s the winner of last year’s Young Innovator’s Competition. Please welcome Jayce Talis!”

For one dizzying moment, the lights were blinding as Jayce pushed through the heavy curtains, squinting against the bright glare. The crowd seemed to lean forward in unison, watching him with rapt attention. A quick glance behind him revealed that Sky was ready to roll the cart onto the stage upon his signal.

Without thinking, his gaze swept over the crowd of students, teachers, and investors. He thought he saw a flash of gold a few rows back and blinked before his eyes found Viktor, further down the hall. The other man's expression was soft, yet it lit up his face as he gave a subtle, encouraging nod.

Don’t think, he mouthed.

As Jayce’s first words echoed through the microphone, there was nothing on his mind except his smile. 

Chapter Text

Thunderous applause roared as Jayce exited the stage with a bow and a wave.

Heimerdinger had insisted that he keep his annual speech short—to give the younger speakers a shot at proving themselves—and Jayce was immensely grateful for the professor's insistence. Even after countless breakthroughs and years of living in the public eye as Piltover's most beloved poster boy and celebrity, he still felt winded after reciting the closing paragraph, glad to escape the shutter clicks and blinding flashes of hundreds of cameras.

The sweltering heat of summer pressed down on the assembly, and Jayce gave Ekko a thankful pat on the back as the boy handed him a bottle of water—cool despite the hot afternoon, a helpful side effect of the temperature-stabilizing drops he had patented a couple of months ago, following Mel's advice. He felt droplets of water trickle down the side of his neck as he tipped the bottle greedily, feeling the plastic scrunch in his fist.

"Woah, slow down," Ekko laughed, sending him an amused look. He had slipped out of his jacket and draped the outer layer of his Academy uniform over his arm, having stowed away his clipboard in the bag he had casually slung over his shoulder. His brow shone with sweat that he absently wiped away, lazily letting his eyes sweep over the stands that lined every alleyway like colorful dots extending uphill for miles. At seventeen years of age, he had not yet grown into his adult features, stuck in that awkward phase of adolescence that equipped him with gangly limbs and an extra couple of inches added on top of his frame, but left his face round and unchanged. Jayce snorted, groaning in fulfillment and dropping the empty bottle into a nearby trash bin.

"If you don't want me to keel over in this weather, you'll have to put up with it," he quipped over his shoulder, squinting his eyes to glance up at the cloudless blue sky. It was an exceptionally sunny day, not a trace of wind drifting in from the direction of the harbor. Meteorologists had called it the summer of a decade. Colorful as the phrasing was, Jayce felt compelled to hop into a tub of freezing water and wash his needlessly formal clothes, wincing every time he lifted his arms and felt the material of his shirt stick to his skin. With nothing better to do than enjoy his time at the fair—and sign the occasional autograph—he gestured at a street vendor selling a brand of Demacian ice cream he remembered liking as a child, pulling Ekko along despite his protests. The vendor beamed at him, eyes briefly flitting to the giant poster bearing his face up at the stands, pointing out the different flavors he had on display.

"I'll have a scoop of peppermint," he said, already digging in his pocket for the pouch of coins he was sure he had packed. "Ekko, what do you want? My treat."

Ekko scoffed, nose scrunching in unapologetic disgust. "Ew. You actually like that?"

Leveling him with a blank stare, Jayce cocked his head, already imagining the blissful chill of the ice cream melting on his tongue. Gracefully ignoring his remark, he nodded his chin at the vendor. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, kid." Shuddering, Ekko pulled a face. A small line had formed behind them.

"The young man will have a scoop of—"

"Strawberry," he interjected hastily, "and a waffle, please." He sent Jayce a withering glare, taking their cones while the older man paid upfront, including a generous tip for the vendor who practically flushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head overeagerly.
They wandered off to the side and sat down on a bench overlooking the park, a patch of green among a sea of blue and gold. Roses had been planted along the main path, their red bloom visible from a distance. In the center of the green space, a statue had been commissioned in his honor, and although the donation had come from an anonymous source, Mel's smug look upon seeing him blanch at the gleaming metal reconstruction of his own face had been enough to confirm his suspicions. It was contemporary art, she had told him dismissively, and the Piltover she had worked tirelessly to reform was nothing if not a haven for creatives.

Stretching his legs, Jayce was content to bask in the afternoon sun, occasionally taking a lick whenever his ice cream threatened to drip onto his expensive white suit. Beside him, Ekko mirrored his pose, scrolling aimlessly on his phone as he crunched on his waffle.

"Thank you for your assistance today," Jayce told him, head tilting back to rest on the back of the bench. The heat had put him in a drowsy state, and it was all too tempting to let his eyes slip shut for a while, the distant chatter of the crowd fading into the background of his mind. Having an afternoon all to himself was rare and he almost sighed in relief, allowing his usual exhaustion to catch up to him. Working full-time as an inventor was more taxing than a younger version of himself could have anticipated, although the reward always far outweighed any negative aspects. He was all too aware of the stress his team was under during high season, sending out letters to potential investors and preparing charity events, presentations, and the distribution of their products at breakneck speed.

Keyboard clicking, Ekko nodded, not bothering to glance up. "It's what you hired me for, isn't it?"

Picturing him as he had arrived on Viktor's doorstep one evening several years ago — a scrawny teenager with scraped-up knees and a defiant expression that rivaled even his partner's — Jayce felt a swell of pride rise in his chest for how far Ekko had come. It hadn't been an easy task to find someone who could fill Sky's shoes, but Ekko had adapted to their lab environment surprisingly quickly. Jayce had soon come to the realization that the boy was a genius in his own right, well-versed in calculations and engineering despite having never attended a formal school before enrolling at the Academy under Viktor's tutelage.

"What I hired you for is making sure Powder doesn't burn down the lab in my absence," he replied, brows furrowing as he imagined the girl testing another batch of explosives or meddling with the calibrations of their latest robotic limbs while the rest of her team attended the celebrations. "Which could prove difficult today." 

Ekko took another bite of his waffle, chewing a moment longer than strictly necessary, keeping his eyes glued to his screen. Sighing, Jayce finished his ice cream in one go and folded his hands behind his head, his back popping as he stretched. "Oh well," he yawned, thoughts drifting sluggishly around his head, "Nothing we can do to stop her now. We're in for a surprise when we get back."

"Relax, old man," Ekko snorted, rolling his eyes. "She's working on a cleaning bot at the moment. Give her some credit." Blinking heavily, Jayce watched the ghost of a smile cross his face. "She says 'hi,' by the way." It was half a miracle and half a curse how quickly their two young assistants had clicked. They had grown up no more than two blocks away from each other in the undercity and seemed to share the same sentiment about most of Piltover: that it was a necessary evil they had to put up with until they could settle elsewhere, learning from the city's brightest only because they had far surpassed the limits of the opportunities that were available to them back home. To Jayce's immense relief, Ekko largely voiced his complaints about their way of living in the relative privacy of their lab, whereas Powder cared little for decorum or public image, outspoken in every aspect of her character. He couldn't remember ever pinching the bridge of his nose quite as frequently as he did in recent times, forcing himself to remain calm even after he had received the tenth anonymous threat to expel his student if she didn't stop leaving the teachers ominous notes at the bottom of her essays. 

Because he was Jayce Talis, and because Powder put just about any of her peers to shame when it came to ingenuity and outright brilliance—a fact that none of her professors could deny—they had managed to narrowly avoid any further consequences. The girl still gave him a mild headache on a good day, but he had to admit that she, too, had somewhat mellowed out over the years. He didn't doubt that it was partly due to Ekko's influence. 

"Tell her I, uh," Jayce paused, trying to remember how the boy had put it, "say 'hi' back. And also, that we'll be back in an hour or so."

A message pinged less than a minute later, and Ekko bit the inside of his cheek, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "She says she can't wait to see you. She's been missing you like crazy." His voice pitched up half an octave, mimicking a simpering tone. Kids, Jayce thought in fond exasperation. Was I ever this much of a nuisance? He vowed to apologize to his mother for ever forcing her to witness him growing into a functional adult, the next chance he got.

"Haha," he deadpanned, closing his eyes for a second. "Go ahead and make fun of the guy who pays for your tuition." He sensed more than heard Ekko huff an offended breath and pictured him sticking out his tongue. For all his more sensible qualities compared to the whirlwind of chaotic energy that was Powder, the boy could be just as much of a menace if he tried. A funny thing, time was, Jayce mused. Had someone told him five years ago that he would take in two teenagers from the undercity and let them wreak havoc in his lab without moving a muscle to stop them, he would have protested the very notion vehemently. 

"We all have our secrets," Viktor had reminded him what seemed like a lifetime ago, in defense of a woman who, in a surprising twist of fate, went on to become one of their most vocal supporters. True to their word, Sevika had been one of the first to receive a bionic arm once production had started in full swing. Although they hadn’t expected to hear from her again, she rallied workers and allies alike to their cause, calling for better treatment and exposing the severity of the situation in the mines—revealing the massive violation of their rights committed by those in charge. Without her bringing to light the uncomfortable truths of how deep the rift between the two parts of their city still was, the subsequent ruling to ban the monopolization of power by a handful of greedy industrialists might never have taken place. Furthermore, she showed the people of the undercity that the technology developed by two inventors topside was nothing to fear, as long as it was used for the right purposes. Somewhat of a rising figure within their ranks, she kept a sharp eye on anyone hoarding tactical equipment, rewarding those who helped her maintain the fragile peace with fair pay and shelter—an approach that proved more effective than anything the enforcers had tried to fight crime in the former lanes.

It wasn't hard for him to admit that he had been wrong about many things, most of which had ultimately improved his life in ways he could never have imagined. As much shame as he felt upon remembering how blind he had been to the prejudice towards people from the undercity, he was glad that someone had gripped him by the shoulders and shaken him until his view of the world had shifted. Power, he had come to realize, was a dangerous tool when wielded by the wrong people. That didn't only include the few who were actively trying to suppress and harm one half of the population. It started with those who stood by and kept quiet, breathing a sigh of relief in the solitude of their own rooms, thankful that they weren’t the ones facing the repercussions of others' actions. People who desperately clung to what they had, refusing to share it with others for fear of falling from grace, were the real perpetrators of injustice. He shuddered at the thought that he might have turned into one of them, had he not witnessed firsthand how brilliance and true compassion could flourish in the minds of people who had never been given the chance to nurture those seeds.

On some days, he wondered if he was still in danger of falling for deception, should someone present it to him as a carefully wrapped gift with a bow tied around it that read his name. He was meticulous about analyzing the rhetoric of anyone he chose to work or surround himself with, but even then, he feared being corrupted by greed if he ever let his guard down. As Piltover's arguably most famous public figure, he was under no illusions about the power he held to sway others to his side.

"You're still afraid of disappointing others, deep down," Viktor had whispered into his ear in the quiet of the night, cradling the side of his face in one palm.
"I'm afraid of disappointing you," Jayce had said, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning into his touch. "I've seen more hate in the eyes of the influential than I would have liked to be aware of. I'm scared it'll seep into my mind and poison my thoughts."

"Oh, Jayce," his partner had laughed, breath ghosting across his face. "The only way they'll get you is if you let them. And we both know you're not the type for that."

So he tried, each day anew. If every morning was a battle he fought within the confines of his mind, he won it time and time again. Where the thought of having others depend on him had once terrified him, he found it grounding the more he questioned his own motivations. Ekko and Powder, squabbling over the last slice of pie, or grinning sheepishly at him after they had blown a hole clean through the middle of his table, were constant reminders of what he had set out to do. Who he had sworn to help. It was impossible to lose sight of his mission with a pair of rowdy teenagers babbling in his ear, growing taller and smarter each time he looked at them.

"Hey, are you seriously nodding off?"

Someone flicked his forehead, and he was unceremoniously yanked back to the present, rubbing the stinging spot with the back of his hand. Constant reminders, indeed. He sent Ekko an unappreciative glance and pushed himself back up on his arms, checking his wristwatch for the time. They still had quite a bit of leeway to explore the markets before they were expected back at the lab. Rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension in his upper back, he ambled to his feet, propping both hands on his hips as he regarded his students with a stern expression.

"Well, you wanted it this way. There's one thing we haven't done today, and this time you're coming with me."

With an agitated groan, Ekko rose from the bench, pocketing his phone and scowling at him unabashedly. "Do we have to?"

"Absolutely," Jayce declared, motioning for him to follow as he pushed forward, sending polite smiles to every passerby who greeted him. Since his initial rise to fame, putting on a cordial front had become somewhat of a second nature to him. Over the last few years, he had emphasized more with Mel and her spot on the council than he would've liked, dropping the act only after the door to his and Viktor's shared apartment closed behind him, allowing him to bury his face in the other man's chest and lounge on the couch for hours without interruption.

"But it's so lame," Ekko whined, dragging the last two syllables out to an almost comical length. "I know you're forty, or whatever, but I'm sure it wasn't cool for adults to ride the miniature train even when you were young."

"Thirty-one," Jayce corrected, already pulling him toward a sizeable crowd that had formed around an almost detailed reconstruction of an old train station, complete with uniformed workers making choo-ing noises as the gates opened and a batch of spectators flooded out of the small building. Upon closer inspection, he had to admit that the people gathered were almost exclusively children and their parents, a fact that couldn't deter him from what he had planned. A small part of him was delighted to cause his assistant a great deal of embarrassment, especially after Ekko had laughed at him when Powder's latest experiment went rogue and covered him in paint and glitter from head to toe. "And it's not a train. It's a steam locomotive. A copy of one of the very first that were ever built in Piltover, I might add."

Crossing his arms, Ekko let out an unconvinced hum, growing more nervous the shorter the line got. As soon as the gates opened and a group of young children emerged, followed by a man dressed in a historical train conductor's uniform who beckoned them to enter, he gripped Jayce's arm, squeezing once in desperation.

"So not cool," he hissed, letting Jayce board the ride first and hiding behind his back.

Jayce grinned at him over his shoulder, finding it hard to be mad at him. After all, it was summer, and it was Progress Day, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

After dropping Ekko off at the lab with minimal fuss and ruffling Powder's hair—chuckling when she squawked at him—Jayce headed home for the day. An inexplicable sense of wistfulness washed over him as the gentle breeze carried traces of distant song and the scent of sea salt up the slope. It was his fourth year as the face of Piltover’s celebrations, and half of him still recoiled at the sight of his image plastered across walls and featured on countless pieces of merchandise as part of Mel’s campaign to improve the city’s image.

"Historically," she had said, jabbing an accusing finger at his chest, "and that is never a good way to start a sentence! Piltover has come to be known for outdated policies, an ongoing class divide that sparked a civil war, and a bunch of people nobody remembers. We need something new, something innovative!"

"And that something is me?" Jayce had asked, skeptical.

"Precisely!" Mel had smiled, her eyes narrowing. "You're the key takeaway of every event we host. Foreign visitors love you! Do you even get half of the fan mail we send to your address every month?"

Jayce had shuddered, pushing away the memory of opening his mailbox to find a stack of obvious love letters and one very unflattering depiction of his likeness that had bruised his ego for at least a month. "Unfortunately."

"Then you know why we're choosing this approach. Piltover is the city of progress, and you are its walking, breathing symbol."

He couldn’t say he was proud of being a glorified mascot, but he knew the increase in tourism and trade with other nations since he’d entered the limelight was hard to ignore. No doubt, much of it was due to Mel’s pulling of the strings behind the scenes. Once she’d secured her seat on the council, she’d lost none of her ambition, only expanding her influence in the shadows. She ensured that whatever she proposed during their meetings had the majority vote. Under her leadership, the city had expanded its reach tenfold, raking in enough funds to open schools and hospitals in the southern parts of their territory.

Mel was... Mel was everything he had ever hoped for in a leader. Where he hesitated, she jumped at opportunities, never doubting her own capabilities or righteousness. Despite everything that had happened—with her mother and the weight of the expectations she’d placed on herself—she’d prevailed when it mattered most, keeping her worries locked away for the days when she had time to unpack them with the few she confided in. He knew the city could depend on her just as much as he trusted her as his closest friend.

Still, he found it hard to differentiate between pride and adoration—a struggle he had confessed to Viktor after Mel had fallen asleep on their couch late into the night. In the warm light of the antique lamps Viktor had brought home one day without explanation, her face had looked soft and unguarded, and his heart had clenched a little.

"I thought these feelings would pass," he had told Viktor, his head resting in his lap while Viktor ran a hand through his hair. "I think part of me still loves her like I did, back then. I don’t know if that will ever change."

"Is that a bad thing?" Viktor had asked quietly. "She helped me with my illness. Actually, she did a whole lot more than that. Without her, I wouldn't have the time with you that I do now. That's something I can never repay her for. What I feel for her is complicated, but I’ve always accepted that she was incredibly important to you. She’s... easy to love. I understand why you do. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t change anything."

"But I love you," Jayce had insisted, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

Viktor’s answering smile had been a soft, glowing thing meant only for him.

"I never doubted that."

His partner's reassurance that his continued lingering affection for her was nothing immoral had eased the weight of his guilt. He was aware that it was possible to love two people at the same time, but he had never considered himself to be the type, not when he knew with utter surety how fiercely head over heels he was for Viktor. If there was one lesson he had to learn over and over again, it was that navigating life was a process, even at over thirty years of age and with more acclaim and wealth than he knew what to do with. He had discarded the idea of bringing the topic up with Mel, keenly aware that she was keeping herself afloat amid a daily flood of paperwork and social obligations and had little time for much else. Besides, he was glad to have her in his life one way or the other, greeting her with an enthusiastic hug whenever she made space for him in her packed schedule. She would come to him when she was ready, and he would always welcome her into his life with open arms. The three of them could figure the rest out along the way.

Seagulls shrieked distantly overhead as Jayce hurried up the stairs to their apartment, eager for a minute of peaceful rest and his and Viktor's usual mundane rituals. His keys jingled as he twisted the lock, the small purple monkey keychain Powder had crafted for him as an apology for the glitter incident dangling joyfully from the ring. Slowly, the door opened, and Jayce’s shoulders sagged as the smell of fresh bread alleviated every ounce of stress that still lingered after his big speech.

Like every day for the past couple of years, he pulled off his shoes and lined them up neatly beside the door, next to pairs of colorful slippers and hiking boots. He was itching to lose the jacket, practically clawing it off his body but folding it neatly before placing it in the laundry bin. Viktor hated it when he left his clothes crumpled or turned inside out.

"I'm home!" he called, hearing nothing but the passing of cars outside and the fading whistling of a kettle—its sound tapering off as if it had only recently been taken off the stove. Their hallway was more cramped than ever, courtesy of having hundreds of doting fans and one passionately creative assistant who loved to leave him notes and scribbles, most of them crude enough to make him chuckle whenever he looked at them. He didn’t keep every gift handed to him, but some he treasured more than others. An older man had sketched him during one of his public appearances, and it had taken Jayce a moment to recognize himself in the picture—not because it was a bad portrait, but because the pencil-and-paper version of himself exuded confidence and ease, standing proud and unyielding as he addressed the crowd. Jayce remembered the day vividly. The night before, he had barely slept and been a mess of frazzled nerves when he ascended the stage, stammering through his opening lines, absolutely certain he was making a fool of himself. The portrait had nearly moved him to tears when he showed it to Viktor, and in the privacy of his partner's embrace, he had to admit that he'd been right all along: No one wanted to see him fail.

Near the coat hanger, they had hung up a framed picture of them together—Jayce grinning from ear to ear as he held up his graduation certificate, standing behind Viktor’s wheelchair with one hand on his shoulder, while the other man, uncharacteristically, beamed up at him.

The lights were on in the kitchen, and Jayce sauntered in with all the confidence of someone who owned half the apartment per contract. Viktor glanced up from where he had been engrossed in a collection of Ionian fables, the sixth of the series, the rest of the volumes stacked atop their coffee table. Thin tendrils of steam rose from a mug on the counter.

"What, none for me?" Jayce asked, pouting.

"I didn’t know when you'd be back," Viktor said simply, returning his attention to his book. He was wearing his reading glasses, and his long hair fell into his eyes where it had escaped the loose bun at the base of his neck. He’d been pestering Jayce to cut it for him for months, claiming it was bothersome and impractical, but Jayce adored it. He suspected Viktor liked how it looked, too, because for all his complaints, he had never once picked up a pair of scissors himself.

"Psh, fine partner you are," he grumbled, unable to keep the smile out of his voice as he pressed a kiss to the side of the man's cheek. Pulling out his chair across the table from him, he bumped his socked feet against Viktor's, who sighed, snapping his book shut. Despite his feigned annoyance, his eyes softened as he studied Jayce, propping his chin up on his hand.

"How was your speech?" he asked.

"Same as last year," Jayce chuckled. "City of progress this, innovation that. I'll have to ask Mel who insists on the same points each time around. The fair was fun. I got Ekko to ride the locomotive with me."

Viktor raised both eyebrows at him. "Do you want him to hate you?"

"What's wrong with a little bonding with the team?" Absently, Jayce reached out and intertwined their fingers, rubbing soothing circles into Viktor's palm. "I'm pretty sure he loved it. Kid's tough, but he's not all grown-up like he thinks he is."

"He really isn't," Viktor agreed warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed at a thought that lit up his face. "Every time I look at him, all I can see is the small boy who told us he was going to kick us out of the lab once we were too old to help him. All the while, he couldn't even hold a welding torch properly."

"He might make good on that promise soon," Jayce winced. "He thought I was forty. That's basically ancient in his eyes. If we don't watch our step, he'll steal our keys, lock the door, and then who knows what he and Powder might do to the place."

"Ah, don't worry," Viktor cooed, although there was a sly gleam in his gaze. "You don't look a day over thirty-six."
Before Jayce could squeeze his hand in protest, he pushed his chair back and stood, wavering a little as he adjusted his balance. His steps were hesitant as he rounded the corner of the table and Jayce watched him with bated breath, mock offense fading from his expression. After months of trial and error, they had finally deemed their latest project acceptable. It wasn't originally meant for personal purposes, but Viktor had begged him for his support and he had never been able to refuse him much of anything, not when he could see how much his partner suffered under his lack of autonomy. The decision hadn't been his to make, but he had spent hours at his bedside regardless, helping him cope with the finality of his choice in the aftermath of the operation. Although his medication had proved successful, the doctors had assured them that no amount of care and training could ever restore the parts of his body that had been cut off from his brain. Losing his leg a second time had put a damper on Viktor's spirit, but every time Jayce asked him if there was anything he could do to help him, he had shaken his head in stubborn determination, a hopeful glint in his eyes that never faded. More than a few weeks of practice had been necessary, and he was still learning how to walk on two feet after spending years relying on a set of wheels, but he was. He was walking again. 

In place of his old leg, a gleaming metal replacement was partly covered by his pants.

By force of habit, Jayce jumped to meet him halfway to his seat, guiding him towards the windowsill where he lifted him by the waist to help him sit, positioning himself between his legs and resting his head in the crook of his neck. Viktor's feet dangled above the ground and he huffed, tangling a hand in his curls. 

"You're horrible," Jayce whispered, burying his nose in the soft skin at the base of his throat and breathing in deeply. Viktor smelled like rain, and parchment...and home. His laugh was surprised, airy. Shaking with mirth, he tugged at his hair and leaned back just a fraction. 

"So I've been told," he said, locking his legs behind his back and drawing him in. "Stop tickling me."

Obliging, Jayce kissed his way up his neck, smiling against the smooth expanse as his partner squirmed in his hold. Outside, dusk had settled, the sky blushing a lovely shade of pink. He paused in his exploration when he reached his partner's face, drawing back to commit every detail of his open features to memory. For once, there wasn't a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth under his scrutiny. Instead, he was leaning in, lips ever so slightly parted and eyes framed by long, dark lashes. 

Pretty, Jayce thought unintelligently. 

Viktor's mouth was impossibly soft and pliable against his own. Slender hands wound their way around his neck and he tilted his chin, allowing for easier access. Their noses bumped as Viktor pulled him closer, opening the kiss to dart his tongue across his bottom lip. It was a game they played that Jayce would never tire of. He returned the pull with a push of his own, greedy in his pursuit as he held onto his partner's waist, heart starting to beat faster at the feeling of the firm curve beneath his hands. 

Pressing Viktor's back against the window, he had to scramble for balance as he, too, tilted forward. He made a small noise of startlement, suddenly flush with the other man as his mouth slipped, lips tingling. Already mourning the loss of contact, he straightened, returning to his previous position, but Viktor turned his head before he could lean in again. Behind a cover of brown hair, his face was red and his chest heaved frantically. 

Amused, Jayce nipped at his earlobe, delighting in the small hitching of his partner's breath. 

"What's wrong?" he whispered. 

The hands at his neck wandered until they were cradling his face, gently guiding him up. Curiously, Jayce followed the other man's lead, blinking down at him as he seemed to struggle with finding the right words. Biting his lip, Viktor glanced down, before an epiphany appeared to wash over him. 

His gaze was resolute, eyes bright against his darkening cheeks. He tapped Jayce's bottom lip with his index finger, then moved onto his nose, giving it the lightest boop. The gesture was as childish as it was endearing and Jayce smiled at him fondly, patiently waiting for an explanation. 

"I love you," Viktor told him. It wasn’t the first time he had uttered the words, but it was the conviction with which he said them that made Jayce freeze, transfixed, as he held his breath. "I just realized that there used to be a world where I didn’t know you existed, and where I thought I’d never share a hug with another soul. What a miserable place that was."

Heart aching, Jayce thought of the emptiness of his old apartment—only two pairs of beat-up shoes by the door, a kitchen that stood vacant for days when he was too busy to return home, and a bed that was only warm once he had shivered under the covers for a minute.
He imagined them crossing paths on the street, eyes firmly trained on the road ahead. That version of him would never have known what it felt like to be understood completely. He wouldn’t have known the softness of Viktor's embrace, or the roughness of his laugh when he was fighting not to give in to Jayce's attempts to cheer him up. He would have never known his favorite color.

"I'm glad you left that place," Jayce said, leaning in to nuzzle Viktor's cheek. "But somehow, I still think we would have met either way. I don't think there’s a me without you."

The very notion felt strange when he weighed it on his tongue. In every timeline, even worlds apart, there must have been something tying them together. Fate, he would have called it, except he was a scientist, and so he knew better. It was energy. Complementarity. As long as he existed, his very essence would call out to its other half. As long as the world turned on its axis, there would always be a version of him that longed for someone he had yet to find.

He could feel his partner's smile before he heard it in his voice. "I'd like to believe that's true."

Humming softly, Jayce kissed the moles on his skin and the crow’s feet that had formed around his eyes from years of shared laughter. He brushed a strand of long hair from Viktor’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He realized, with a sudden clarity, that he was happy. He'd been happy for longer than he could remember. Perhaps the quiet joy had crept up on him one dusky summer evening years ago, a contentment that came with the realization that, at last, he had completed the puzzle and could now step back to admire the whole picture.

"I know it."