Chapter Text
Piltover may have been a bright beacon of discovery and progress, but the fruit of its trees lacked the diversity, the vision , for certain aspects of Hextech. Lucky for two enterprising arcane engineers, Zaun offered every heart’s desire for those with the stomach to take . Or buy, in this case.
Now that their research was above-board, Jayce could commandeer one of the Academy assistants to fetch what he could not order on the council’s dime, running his errands in the undercity. On occasion, Viktor vetoed his blatant abuse of power—not out of moral objection, as he couldn't care less about anything other than work, but out of practicality.
To Jayce’s surprise, when discussing who would retrieve the materials necessary for the next step in their journey toward the Hexgates, Victor volunteered himself.
“They will not know what to look for.” Viktor remained focused on soldering as he spoke, the sudden flow reflecting in his goggles.
“It’s just a bunch of crystals, Vik.” Leaning against his desk, Jayce tossed up a gear and caught it out of the air. “Not even magical. They—”
“Yes,” Viktor snapped, throwing down the soldering iron and yanking off his goggles, “an easily counterfeited crystal. If you let one of these—these topsiders purchase it, then we will be trying to achieve harmonic resonance with bottle caps and sump rocks.”
“Okay, " Jayce relented, only just. “But I’m coming with you.”
Viktor’s snarl deepened the shadows under his high cheekbones. “I do not need a babysitter, Jayce .” The added emphasis on his name signaled an incoming surge of spitefulness that Jayce had hoped to avoid.
“I know.” And he did. Viktor could handle himself. “Just humor me, okay? Please?”
Viktor rolled his eyes but didn’t refuse, and the next evening they found themselves crossing the bridge into Zaun, circling deeper and deeper underground. While Jayce knew Viktor often returned to the undercity, he’d never had the opportunity to accompany him. Even he wasn’t so arrogant as to invite himself on a personal trip, and Viktor never asked for his company. With their work involved, Jayce had a good excuse to observe his partner in a new setting. And he did worry for Viktor when he disappeared for hours, sometimes days, at a time.
“How’d you hear about this place, anyway?” Jayce struggled to keep up with Viktor in the writhing crowds, his stride interrupted by swaying drunks and insistent peddlers.
Before they crossed the bridge, Viktor confiscated his wallet. Jayce initially rankled at the patronization, but since they entered Zaun, more than one hand brushed past his pocket, and those were the hands he’d felt. In his previous visits to the undercity, he always made sure to come during the day, which provided at least a veneer of safety.
Viktor, however, wove like a fish through the sea, walking his cane through the throng like a dancer moving along well-practiced choreography.
“A friend,” Victor replied, offering nothing more.
“Right,” Jayce muttered under his breath.
They turned down a wide street far from the areas Jayce usually ventured into. It took him a moment to notice that many of the people milling about were clad in increasing degrees of nothing. He flushed, averting his eyes as a woman wearing only a leather thong and a collar walked past, and glanced at Viktor, who seemed unaffected by the wealth of bare flesh. If anything, he looked mildly irritated, like someone who had waited a little too long in line and was beginning to grow impatient.
“Hey, handsome,” a voice purred in Jayce’s ear, and he nearly jumped. A warm body pressed against his side, and he glanced down to see a girl with lime green hair twining herself around his arm, her plump breasts fighting to escape a sheer dress. “Haven’t seen you before. Why don’t we—” She cut herself off as her eyes migrated, her sultry purr turning into a gasp of delight. “Viktor!”
At the sound of his name, Viktor turned and smiled, his eyes pleasant half-moons. “Ah, Emerald. It has been a while. How are you?”
Jayce forgotten, she bounced over to Viktor and tapped the end of his cane with her knuckle, the familiar gesture infuriating and disrespectful. A door opened to their right, and a group of men spilled out of a club, releasing pulse-pounding music onto the street that drowned out whatever Viktor and the girl said to each other. Despite her attire, Viktor conducted himself as he would if a junior student stopped him in the hall to ask for directions to their next class.
Shoving through the rowdy group of men, Jayce tried to join their conversation, but all he caught was the girl giggling and pointing back toward him. Whatever she said made Viktor’s pale cheeks turn pink, and he shook his head, waving his hand in the air as if to shoo away her inquiry. By the time Jayce made it back to Viktor’s side, they were saying goodbye, and she was lost in the crowd of nearly-bare bodies.
“Who was that?” Jayce demanded.
Viktor smirked. “A friend.” Turning, he continued on their path.
Lips pressed into a thin line, Jayce followed close in his wake, keeping a sharper eye out for any potential “friends.” To his surprise, it didn’t take him long to spot Emerald again, this time beckoning to customers outside of a brothel. Beside her, a svelte young man gyrated against the air, his sparkling blue eyelids low and sensual. Their prices were posted on a folding chalkboard outside the door, which was guarded by a burly, scarred woman with a metal jaw.
Sucking in a breath, Jayce felt a pang of pity for Emerald and the young man, who looked around Caitlyn’s age. “I don’t know how people can do that.”
“What?”
Jayce hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but now he had to answer Victor's curious, raised eyebrow. Clearing his throat, he clarified, “Sell themselves.”
Following his line of sight, Viktor noticed the brothel and laughed. “It is work, Jayce. Just like anything else.”
“I guess. But isn’t it kind of… violating?”
“Eh, not particularly.” Viktor shrugged. “No more than any other physical labor.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of Jayce. “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
Viktor halted, and Jayce had to curve his body to avoid crashing into him. Turning, Viktor gave him a long, indecipherable look and said, ”Perhaps I am. Would that matter to you?”
“No,” Jayce lied, but not for the reason Viktor might assume. Of course he wouldn’t think less of Viktor, no matter what he’d done in his past, but he would think about it—about Viktor’s pale skin, pawed at by strange men and women, about his golden eyes flashing with pain when someone got too rough with his already delicate body, about the sounds he might make, some exaggerated, some real and breathy as he came close to—
Face burning, Jayce shut the door on that line of thought. “A-are we almost there yet?” he said, praying Viktor would save him from his own embarrassment.
Ever merciful, Viktor snorted and continued their journey, not looking back to check if Jayce was following.
They were almost there, as it turned out, and the interaction passed in a blur, Jayce unable to focus. Every time Viktor gesticulated or put particular emphasis on a word or shifted his weight to lean on his cane, Jayce couldn’t help but imagine him on his back, writhing beneath some filthy old man.
Enforcers frequented the brothels in Zaun, looking for a taste of the exotic and dangerous, and they were not known for their gentleness. And what about politicians like Councilor Salo who prized personal pleasure over all else? Surely they, too, used the undercity to have their fun, not caring what harm they left in their wake.
Two sensations blossomed within him. One, an unfamiliar, poisonous burning that made him want to double over and scream, to wrap Viktor up and cart him back to their lab, the place they had built together. The other sensation was the extremely familiar urge to throw up. Somehow, he managed to simply stand there, serving as nothing more than a dark shadow looming behind Viktor as he haggled and inspected the goods.
They spent the journey home in silence, Viktor pointedly staring ahead as if Jayce did not exist. Still fighting nausea and the rancid, hot thing inside him, Jayce was happy to remain Viktor’s dog, trotting wordlessly behind him.
Once the door to the lab shut behind them, leaving them alone and lit only by moonlight, Jayce opened his mouth. Before he could speak, he was looking at the ceiling.
When his ass hit the hard floor, Jayce realized Viktor had swiped his cane behind his knees and tripped him. Swift as an arrow, the rubber butt of the cane jabbed into his chest, pressing hard against his sternum. Jayce’s eyes followed the wood grain up to Viktor’s hand and arm and finally his face, as cold and regal as an executioner king.
“Do you think,” Viktor said, enunciating carefully, voice soft but commanding, “you are the first person to judge me?”
Jayce gripped the cane nearly piercing his heart, but he let Viktor bear down on him. “Viktor, I didn’t—”
“My body is mine to use as I please. It pleases me to eat. To build and create. To use soap . Now, I have all these things at my fingertips, but there was a time when I did not. Other young men rotted their lungs in the mines, but I…” He smacked the back of his hand against his bad leg. “I had few options. Understand?”
“Yes.” Jayce nodded, throat thick. “Yes, I—”
“How different is it from you laboring in your father’s forge? Of course, you had the choice not to, no? To become a scientist and make something of yourself?” Viktor shoved the cane harder against Jayce’s chest, forcing out a small grunt. “Still, you spend hours staring into fire, burning your hands, tearing your muscles to ribbons. And you have the audacity to judge me for—”
Jayce yanked on the cane. Surprised, Viktor lost his balance and toppled onto him. Jayce absorbed all of Viktor’s slight weight, cushioning his fall, and wrapped his arms around his partner, cradling the back of his head.
“I don’t judge you,” he whispered. “Not at all. I’m sorry. I just—I just don’t like the idea of people touching you, okay? It’s stupid and childish, I know.”
During the walk through Piltover’s empty nighttime, he’d finally been able to name the smouldering, painful emotion tearing at his heart—jealousy. Oh, he was jealous, sick with it, sweating it out of his pores. To know that hands other than his own had touched Viktor, his partner, in places that he was not privy to… It ate him alive. He wanted all of Viktor. He thought he had everything of Viktor that he wanted—his friendship, his respect, his time and attention—but that was no longer enough. He wanted everything Viktor was, had been, and would be.
Face pressed into Jayce's shoulder and hands planted on the floor to either side of Jayce’s waist, Viktor remained still as a statue, but his warmth and pounding heart belied his humanity. As the embrace grew long, his breathing slowed from angry puffs to soft inhales and exhales, and he relaxed against Jayce, returning the hug.
“Nothing could ever tarnish you in my eyes,” Jayce promised, squeezing his eyes shut. “ Nothing would ever lessen my respect and admiration for you, Viktor. You have to know that.”
“I… did not.” Viktor’s voice came out muffled through Jayce’s jacket. “But I do now.”
Jayce cleared his throat. “And I know there’s nothing wrong with that kind of thing. I’m just not accustomed to it, and I… I don’t like the thought of you being… used. Like an object. You’re so special, so unique and precious, and you deserve to be treated like it.”
Chuckling ruefully, Viktor pulled back to look at him. “You are in the minority with that opinion, but I…” A pink flush spread across his cheeks and nose. “You are special to me, too, Jayce.”
In the soft silence, their eyes met, and neither shied away. Still touching at almost every point, their warmth bled together, returning them to a comfortable equilibrium. Jayce might not have all of Viktor, but this was enough. It had to be.
After a moment, Viktor’s gaze fluttered down, and his bangs fell into his face, but Jayce could see he was smiling. “If it helps, I did not, eh, ‘walk the streets,’ as they say. Just took clients when I needed money.”
It did not help, Jayce’s imagined scenarios changing from low brothel lighting to the cold dampness of some abandoned building or stranger’s apartment. Uncontrolled, dangerous situations, especially for someone who could not run away.
He was snapped out of his increasingly horrifying thoughts by Viktor once again relaxing against him, his hands petting at Jayce’s lapel. “It was a long time ago,” Viktor murmured against his neck. “Don’t trouble yourself with it.”
Giving in to an urge, Jayce curled around him. “I know your situation has changed a lot, and you probably don’t need… Well, just, if you ever need money or something, you can always come to me.”
Viktor snorted. “Are you propositioning me, Mister Talis?”
Jayce’s entire body lit on fire. “No! I mean, you’re beautiful, and I would— Fuck, I didn’t— If we— Shit.”
For a moment, Jayce thought Viktor had begun to cry, his shoulders shaking. His blood ran cold, and he wished someone had cut out his stupid tongue years ago before he could make an ass of himself. And then the distinct sound of choked laughter hit his ears.
Languid and graceful as a cat, Viktor disentangled himself from Jayce and grinned down at him. “You are the most charming man I have ever met, Jayce Talis. The most brilliant and the most stupid.”
They crashed together, and looking back, Jayce could not recall which of them initiated the kiss. Either way, it didn’t matter, as both of them approached it with the same enthusiasm they brought to their work.
Jayce’s hands clutched Viktor’s face, fingers pressing against the hard planes of his cheeks and jaw. He did recall that it was Viktor who introduced tongue, licking into his already parted lips. Groaning, Jayce moved with Viktor, opened for Viktor, submitted to Viktor.
Spit-slick and puffy, their lips slid against each other, sending tingles up and down Jayce’s spine. Surely, Viktor could tell that he was hard, his eager body responding to the weight of Viktor’s ass. Without thinking, he rutted up, and Viktor responded with a moan broken by a sharp, pained hiss.
Tearing himself away, Jayce cradled Viktor’s face and examined him. “What? What’s wrong?”
Viktor winced. “Ah, I’m sorry. My knee…”
Needing no more explanation, Jayce scooped Viktor up and stood, smiling at the disgruntled sound Viktor made as he was lifted. He carried Viktor over to the nearest clear, flat surface—a waist-high steel chest they stored their more expensive materials in—and eased him down.
“Better?”
Viktor smiled. “Much. Thank you, Jayce. You are so good to me.”
The praise warmed him and sent blood rushing southward. Before Jayce could think better of it, he was speaking.
“Can I, um—” His face, which was already flushed from their kissing, turned a bright red. “Can I make you feel good?” He brushed his fingers against the inner seam of Viktor’s pants.
“Hm, I don’t know,” Viktor said coyly, leaning back on his hands. “You will have to be more specific.”
“Can I suck you off?” tumbled out of his mouth, and he bit his lip to stop anything else from falling out.
Viktor reached up and cupped his cheek. Jayce leaned into the touch, nuzzling against Viktor’s cool palm. He smelled like metal and skin, and Jayce wanted to drink him in forever.
With a soft hum, Viktor responded, “You may.”
Falling to his knees, Jayce fumbled with the buttons on Viktor’s pants, then paused. A sudden anxiety overcame him when, despite the lack of blood in his brain, he recognized his ineptitude. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before. I don’t know how—”
“I will show you.” Viktor leaned forward and kissed him, slow and wet and open-mouthed, until Jayce’s tension melted away.
“I guess it’s best to learn from the professional,” he joked when they parted. After he spoke, he worried Viktor might be offended, but he only laughed, shaking his head.
“ Retired professional,” he corrected. “Now, get these off.”
Viktor waited for him to undo all of the buttons before lifting himself so Jayce could slide his pants over his hips and down his legs. Folding them into a neat square, he set them to the side. Viktor watched him with what he hoped was fondness.
If this were anyone else, Jayce would have reached for the buttons of his shirt next, but it seemed too much, too quick with Viktor. Instead, he turned his attention downward, to more pressing matters.
Through the white fabric of Viktor’s underwear, Jayce could see the thick outline of a hardening cock. Curiosity eating him alive, he palmed the shape, relishing the way Viktor arched his back and gasped. Not waiting for Jayce to get around to it, Viktor yanked off his briefs himself and tossed them on top of his folded pants.
Jayce remembered a joke Caitlyn had told him about skinny guys with huge dicks. Something about having legs so thin they need three of them to stand.
“Wow,” he breathed.
Viktor glanced down at himself, self-consciousness flashing over his face. “What?”
“Do you have to fold that thing up to get it in your pants?”
Caught off-guard, Viktor laughed, a sharp bark. “You flatter me.”
Jayce shook his head, coming to terms with the fact that he would have to fit Viktor’s rather impressive dick in his mouth. “I'm just being honest.”
Despite his apprehension about the logistics, Jayce needed to have a part of Viktor inside him, to consume him and leave him sated. Falling to his knees, he settled between Viktor’s legs, draping one over each shoulder. Unconcerned with his own arousal, he pressed his cheek against Viktor’s pale thigh. Through his ear, he felt the flex of Viktor’s muscles and tendons.
“Please,” he whispered. “Teach me.”
✦
Sex for money was business. Sex for pleasure was a messy, vulnerable experience Viktor did his best to avoid.
He hadn’t turned to prostitution with intention. It didn’t even occur to him as a possibility until a man offered to pay him a day’s wages for a handjob.
Most other boys his age were already working in the mines, but he made do with the money he got from repairing things—toys, tools, a fry cooker, once. Difficult and time consuming, the work took more effort than appropriate for the compensation received, and his clients approached him with impatience, their mood already ruined by whatever broken thing brought them to him.
A day’s wages for less than an hour of work. He put money in his mother’s pocketbook when she wasn’t looking, bought himself better clothes, purchased a ticket topside to visit a museum. And his clients were, for the most part, grateful, some offering him extra for a conversation after the physical part of their deal concluded.
Word spread around the brothels and back alleys, and he worked his way up from offering his hands to his mouth to his entire body. Some clients took more than agreed upon, leaving him sore and nursing wounded pride, but as long as he got paid, he could endure the little indignities that came with the work. No one asked him where the money came from, and he didn’t share.
As he grew older, he shifted away from “selling himself,” as Jayce would say, narrowing his focus on his studies and his dreams of making a name for himself. When the plan to sneak him into the Academy went off without a hitch, he abandoned the practice, pouring himself into the mold of a respectable Piltover academic, at least in front of watchful eyes.
And then the mining accident. Unfortunate, but common, he was told by the Enforcers when he collected his parents’ mangled bodies. Any money he brought in no longer needed to be divided into what would be sent home and what would be kept for himself.
Joy turned to ash in his mouth, and he threw himself into his work, ignoring the increasing pains of his body in favor of his mind. Whatever need he possessed for happiness or love or pleasure sat on a shelf in the back of his psyche, collecting dust.
When he met Jayce, color bled back into his life, feeding the meager hope he’d retained like a child clutching a cherished toy. He wanted to hate Jayce for it.
Partner, he’d mused to himself the night after their first successful experiment with Hextech, the euphoria of floating through the lab clinging to him for hours after their feet returned to the ground. My partner.
With Jayce kneeling between his legs, gazing up at him, begging for his guidance, he realized, I love this man.
For so long, he wrestled with his feelings for Jayce, but never once had he dared to bestow them with such a heavy word. It seemed too much, too presumptuous, and once he deemed it love, he could never take it back.
Heart pounding, he cupped Jayce’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Thick stubble rasped against his skin, and he shivered, both from the sensation and from the fact that his bare ass was on a cold, metal surface.
“Move me to the sofa.”
For emergency napping purposes, they’d sequestered a sofa from an empty office down the hall, and so far, no one from the Academy had come to reclaim it. Everyone kept assuming they received it through the appropriate channels and never thought to report it, just as no one thought he was out of place as a student.
Jayce’s mouth twisted in contrition. “Oh, yeah. Forgot we had that. Sorry.”
“Better late than never, eh?” Viktor traced his jaw with a finger, pleased with the way Jayce’s lashes fluttered at the touch.
Jayce scooped him up like he weighed nothing and carried him over to the sofa. Once Victor was safely seated, Jayce oncemore fell between his knees, expression shy but open—expectant. In the time it had taken them to move and become comfortable, Viktor’s erection flagged, but he paid it no mind, sure that it wouldn’t take him long to thicken again.
“How do you like your cock sucked, Jayce?”
Surprised, Jayce dropped his gaze, concentrating instead on Viktor’s sharp knee. “I, uh… Well, I’ve never really thought about it. The normal way, I guess?” He phrased it like a question, glancing up for approval.
“Hm. Well, I like it sloppy.” Viktor tapped his fingers against Jayce’s barely parted lips.
Though Jayce wasn’t the most observant person in the world, he never lacked for cleverness, picking up the implication behind Viktor’s words. His throat distended as his tongue moved inside his closed mouth, coaxing saliva up through the membrane. While Jayce got himself wet, Viktor grasped his cock and began to stroke, only needing a few lazy movements to rise to full hardness again.
It wasn’t difficult to find pleasure in the sight of Jayce Talis on his knees, nervous as a virgin girl, opening his mouth to show Viktor the foamy pool of saliva held on his tongue.
“Very good,” Viktor cooed, leaning forward to kiss Jayce on the end of his nose. When he pulled back, he held his hand out beneath Jayce’s chin. “Spit.”
Jayce did as he was told, depositing his moisture in Victor's cupped hand. Using the newly produced lubricant, Viktor stroked himself, smearing his cock with Jayce’s spit.
“Can I…?” Leaning forward, Jayce eyed the slick glans.
With his free hand, Viktor flicked Jayce’s nose, where he had just kissed. “Be patient.”
Jayce relented, sitting back on his heels, but he did pout about it. Stroking himself at a leisurely pace, Viktor watched Jayce through his eyelashes, enjoying the way he squirmed, still fully clothed. Judging by the color of his face and neck, he was rather warm in those clothes.
“Alright,” he began, bored of teasing. “Do as I say.”
Nodding, Jayce shuffled closer and placed one hand on Viktor’s good knee. A diligent student.
“Open your mouth, but make sure your lips cover your teeth.”
Jayce opened his mouth and folded his lips inward, like someone doing an impression of a toothless old man.
“Ah, not quite.” Chuckling, Viktor reached into Jayce's mouth and adjusted his lips himself, lingering on the silky interior of his plush bottom lip. “There. Perfect. Now, let it hit your tongue, first.”
Holding his cock by the base, Viktor angled it toward Jayce, who stuck out his tongue and leaned in, tentatively accepting Viktor into his mouth. At the first touch of wet flesh, Viktor shivered. “Ah, good, just—”
He gasped as Jayce, a diligent and precocious student, swallowed him to mid-shaft before halting, his throat spasming around Viktor.
“ Jayce ,” he hissed, and Jayce looked up at him, fluttering his dark lashes.
Steadying himself with a breath, Viktor patted Jayce’s cheek. “Eager for an independent study, hm?”
In answer, Jayce slid a little farther down and choked, forcing him to come up for air.
“I want,” Jayce said, chest heaving, “to make you feel good. You don’t have to give it to me easy.”
“So, you would rather I give it to you hard ?”
Jayce flushed, ducking his head, sweet and shy. “Maybe.”
Despite what Jayce may have assumed about Viktor’s previous employment, many of his clients sought to make the experience as enjoyable for him as it was for them. Most failed, but Viktor put on a good show regardless. Despite whatever they may have intended, his pleasure was, in the end, as much for them as the rest of the experience. When a client wanted him to “feel good,” what they really wanted was the validation his pleasure provided them, and he held no illusions about that.
But when Jayce said it, Viktor believed him. Of course, Jayce enjoyed a good ego stroking as much as the next arrogant academic, but the earnest vulnerability in his eyes made Viktor tremble, overwhelmed by the power bestowed upon him. If he so wished, he could coat Jayce’s pretty face with his come, offering nothing in return, and Jayce would thank him—he was sure of it.
The intensity and devotion confused him, allowing a thread of insecurity to worm its way in, attaching to his psyche like a parasite. Perhaps, in his inexperience, Jayce did not understand the gravity of what he was giving to Viktor, or perhaps he only did so because of the trust their partnership had built. A bitter, cruel part of him whispered that Jayce only viewed him as a proxy. A valued proxy, but not the true object of his affections.
“Open your mouth.”
Jayce’s eyes widened at the darkened tone, but he followed the order without a word, taking Viktor inside him once again.
“Relax your throat and breathe through your nose as you come up. Understand?”
Jayce nodded, Viktor’s cock swaying with his head. An endearing determination flashed in his eyes, and Viktor’s heart swelled. I can’t love him. I can’t.
“Then get to it. Make me feel good .” Viktor lifted his legs and wrapped them around Jayce’s neck, letting his bad calf cross over his good.
As he expected, the challenge and the change in position lit a fire in Jayce, and he began to bob his head, beginning with shallow rocking motions. Confidence increasing with each of Viktor’s soft moans, Jayce worked his way down Viktor’s cock, hand slithering between his legs to wrap around the base, pumping in time with his mouth.
“Ah, slow, Jayce. Slow .” Viktor petted Jayce’s hair, palm coming away tacky with pommade. “I like it slow.”
Jayce hummed and slowed, dragging his mouth up and down as his tongue slithered along the underside of Viktor’s cock.
“Good boy, good. Take me deeper. I know you can.” Viktor resisted the sadistic urge to shove Jayce’s head down on his cock and hold him there, savoring the way Jayce’s eyes watered, saliva spilling out of his mouth and his face reddening from lack of oxygen—the urge to punish Jayce for the growing infection within him, spreading out from his heart.
Jayce hummed and made an effort to relax his throat, inching down Viktor’s cock until his nose reached dark pubic hair. Taking deep breaths, he fucked himself with Viktor’s cock, each motion long and languid and sloppy, just the way Viktor liked.
How dare you be so perfect, Viktor’s mind sneered. Must you succeed at everything, even being a whore?
He brushed the thought aside, his consciousness growing scattered and fuzzy in a way it had never been. Mouth hanging open, he moaned and sighed and squirmed, reveling in the wet heat encompassing him. Jayce ‘s big hands gripped his hips, holding him still, forcing him to sit and accept the pleasure.
Legs tightening around Jayce’s ears, Viktor mewled and trembled and lost himself in the feeling of Jayce around him, the knowledge that it was Jayce —Jayce Talis, the most eligible man in Piltover, his partner, his dear friend, the man he loved—between his legs bringing him closer and closer to climax. So caught up in sensation, he nearly forgot to issue a warning.
“Ah, ah, I—” he gasped. “So close. I am so—Oh, Jayce .”
Jayce made a pleased noise and continued his assault, thumbs digging into the divot of Viktor’s hip bones.
Sure that Jayce misunderstood, Viktor tugged at his hair. “Jayce, please , I am going to—”
Jayce’s tongue rolled against the underside of his glans, and Viktor convulsed, his orgasm drawn out of the base of his spine and skittering to his extremities. He cried out, the muscles in his back contracting, agony lighting up each joint, but he didn’t care.
Quivering, he came back to himself, opening his eyes to see Jayce gazing up at him, throat working as he swallowed.
Through his panting, Viktor couldn’t help but laugh. “You…”
Jayce pulled off, releasing Viktor’s softening cock. “Did I do okay?”
“Fishing for praise, hm?” Viktor gripped his face with weak fingers, tossing him back and forth before letting go.
Smiling, Jayce kissed the inside of his thigh. “I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes.’”
✦
Untangling Viktor’s legs from around his neck, Jayce lowered his feet to the floor, caressing the sinewy arches. He wished he could explore Viktor’s body pore by pore, kissing his way up and down and up again.
“How’s your leg?” Jayce brushed his knuckles up the shin on Viktor’s bad side, ghosting over the sparse hairs there and making them stand at attention.
“Fine.” Viktor shifted, pushing himself upright, as he had slid down into an awkward curve, his shirt riding up above his belly. Wincing, he tugged his shirt back into position, and Jayce tried not to feel too disappointed.
“Do you need—”
“If I need something, I will tell you know.”
A total lie, but seeking to preserve the warm, relaxed air between them, Jayce let it go and eased up into the spot next to Viktor on the couch, his body oriented toward Viktor like a flower seeking the sun.
Golden eyes tracking him as he moved, Viktor cocked his head. “What are you doing?”
Jayce blinked. “Right, sorry, I’ll go get your pants.” Already standing, he continued, “Are you cold? I can—”
“No.” Viktor grabbed his arm and tugged, drawing him close enough to hook his slender fingers under Jayce’s belt.
Despite the fact that he just milked Viktor’s cock like their lives depended on it, heat flooded Jayce’s body, the inherent embarrassment of the situation overriding logic.
“Y-you don’t have to—”
“Jayce,” Viktor sighed, genuine irritation mixing with fondness, “be quiet and fuck my face.”
Jaw snapping closed, Jayce nodded, watching as Viktor undid his belt, then the buttons down his trousers. At some point during his inaugural blowjob, his hardness surpassed what his brain could handle, cock going numb but remaining heavy with blood. Sensation flooded back as Viktor shoved down his pants just enough for his erection to pop free, bobbing in the space between him and the end of Viktor’s pretty nose.
“I knew you would be big here, too,” Viktor murmured, his eyelids drooping. “All of you so broad and thick, so much to take in.”
He extended that clever, quick tongue of his to caress the swollen tip of Jayce’s cock, and Jayce let out a choked groan, eyes rolling back in his head.
“Fuck, Viktor…”
Retracting his tongue, Viktor raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips and dangerous mischief in his eyes. “No talking.”
A warm, wet mouth enveloped him, as velvety as the inside of a woman. Jayce ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair, pushing it away from his face.
While Jayce had felt satisfied with his performance, he immediately recognized the vast difference in skill between him and Viktor, who seemed to lack a gag reflex and a need for air, easily taking him down to the base and working him without hands. Saliva escaped past his lips, dripping into Jayce’s hair and down his balls. He gasped and moaned, but held back any comments or swearing, as Viktor requested, and let his eyes slip closed.
Gripping Jayce’s hips, Viktor pushed off him with a gasp.
Jayce’s eyes snapped open and his hands leapt from Viktor’s hair, tearing out a small knot. “What’s wr—”
“Are you deaf?” Viktor sneered, wiping drool from his chin with the back of his hand. “I said, ‘Fuck my face.’ Is this how you fuck?”
Concern replaced with determination, Jayce plunged his hands back into Viktor’s hair, tightening his hold until several strands popped free from his scalp. Viktor grinned and parted his lips in time to receive Jayce’s thrust, his cock plunging down Viktor’s eager, open throat.