Work Text:
The workshop was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of the arc lamp casting long shadows across the room. Jayce stood over one of the workbenches, his sleeves rolled up and his brow furrowed as he carefully adjusted the calibration of a Hextech device.
Viktor, as usual, was perched on his stool nearby, scribbling in his notebook with a speed that suggested his thoughts were far ahead of his hand. Every so often, Jayce would glance over, watching the way Viktor’s fingers moved gracefully across the page, the way his golden eyes narrowed in concentration.
Jayce didn’t know why, but lately, he found himself paying more attention to the little things. The tilt of Viktor’s head when he was deep in thought. The faint accent that slipped into his voice when he was annoyed—or teasing. The curve of his lips when he allowed himself a rare, fleeting smile.
It was distracting. And, frankly, it was starting to mess with Jayce’s focus.
“Jayce,” Viktor’s voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and dry. “You are staring again.”
Jayce blinked, caught off guard. “What? I’m not staring.”
Viktor looked up from his notes, one brow arched in a way that made Jayce’s stomach flip. “Oh? Then why have you been holding the same screwdriver for the past five minutes?”
Jayce glanced down at the tool in his hand, realizing with a start that Viktor was right. He quickly set it down, his cheeks heating. “I’m just... thinking,” he said, a little too defensively.
“Thinking?” Viktor repeated, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “About what?”
“About work,” Jayce lied, avoiding Viktor’s gaze. “You know, Hextech. Progress. Important stuff.”
Viktor hummed, unconvinced. He stood, leaning heavily on his cane as he made his way over to Jayce’s side. His steps were slow but deliberate, each one accompanied by the soft tap of metal against the floor. When he stopped, he was close enough that Jayce could feel the faint warmth radiating from him.
“You are a terrible liar,” Viktor said simply, his voice low and teasing.
Jayce opened his mouth to protest, but Viktor cut him off by reaching past him, his hand brushing Jayce’s arm as he picked up a stray bolt from the workbench. The touch was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity through Jayce’s nerves.
“Viktor,” Jayce said, his tone halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Are you—have you been flirting with me?”
Viktor straightened, tilting his head to look at Jayce with a sly, knowing smile. “You only noticed now?”
Jayce stared at him, caught completely off guard. The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, all he could do was blink as his brain scrambled to process what he’d just heard. He attempted to talk with his hands but even those got stuck for anything to express well enough.
“You’re joking,” Jayce said finally, though his voice was tinged with uncertainty.
Viktor’s smile widened, and he took a step closer, his gaze steady and unflinching. “Am I?”
Jayce’s heart was racing now, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Viktor’s proximity or the way his voice had dipped ever so slightly, just enough to make the room feel warmer. It was very hot in that room now, or at least Jayce felt very hot. “I—I don’t know,” he stammered, bringing his hands up to fumble with his tie. “Are you?”
Viktor shrugged, the motion elegant despite the cane in his hand. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I am simply pointing out what has been obvious for weeks.”
“Wait—weeks?” Jayce’s eyes widened. “You’ve been—what, flirting with me this whole time?”
Viktor chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “You are not very observant, are you, Jayce?”
Jayce ran a hand through his hair, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. “I—I thought you were just being... you know, Viktor. Sarcastic. Witty. Annoying.”
“And yet you kept smiling every time I was ‘annoying,’” Viktor pointed out, his voice laced with amusement. “If I did not know better, I might think you enjoyed it.”
Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because, damn it, Viktor was right. He had enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed every bit of their back-and-forth banter, every sharp comment, every sly smile. And now, standing here with Viktor looking at him like that, Jayce couldn’t help but wonder how he’d missed it for so long.
“Well,” Jayce said at last, his voice softening. “If it makes you feel any better... I guess I don’t mind.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow, slightly leaning to his left to shift the weight from his bad leg. “You guess?”
Jayce grinned, a little more confidently this time. “Okay, fine. I don’t mind. At all.”
Viktor’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to Jayce’s surprise, he leaned in, just enough that their faces were mere inches apart. “Good,” Viktor murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I am not done yet.”
Jayce’s breath hitched, and for a split second, he thought Viktor might actually—
But then Viktor stepped back, the faintest smirk playing on his lips as he returned to his stool. “Now,” he said, picking up his notebook as if nothing had happened, “perhaps we can get back to work?”
Jayce stared after him, his heart still racing, a laugh of disbelief bubbling up in his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
Viktor didn’t look up, but Jayce could see the curve of his smile. “And yet, you are still smiling moje lásko.”
Jayce froze, blinking at Viktor like he’d just sprouted a second head. “Wait… what?”
Viktor glanced up, his expression calm but laced with faint amusement. “Hmm? Did you not hear me, Jayce?”
“Oh, I heard you,” Jayce said, tilting his head as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “I just… what does that mean? Moje lásko?” His attempt at repeating the phrase was clumsy, his accent stumbling over the unfamiliar words.
Viktor’s smile grew, and for a moment, he didn’t answer, clearly enjoying Jayce’s confusion. He turned his attention back to the blueprint, idly tracing a line with his finger.
“Viktor.” Jayce’s tone was firmer now, though there was no hiding the curiosity in his voice. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”
“You are quite impatient, you know,” Viktor teased, the hint of a chuckle in his voice.
Jayce groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not going to make me guess, are you? Because if it’s something rude, I’m never going to let you live it down.”
Viktor glanced at him again, his golden eyes sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like mischief. “It is not rude. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Jayce narrowed his eyes, his curiosity now thoroughly piqued. “Okay, so tell me.”
Viktor sighed, as though Jayce were being particularly troublesome, though his smile didn’t fade. “Moje lásko,” he said slowly, enunciating the words with care, “means… my love.”
Jayce blinked, the explanation hitting him like a bolt of lightning. “Wait—what?”
“You asked,” Viktor said, his tone maddeningly calm, though the faint pink in his cheeks betrayed him.
Jayce stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “You—you just called me ‘my love’? Casually? In the middle of all this? Just after saying you’ve been flirting with me!” He gestured vaguely to the workbench, as if the presence of wires, schematics, and half-finished prototypes somehow made Viktor’s words even more absurd.
Viktor shrugged, his smile turning sly. He rested his chin on the back of his hands, adopting a look of mock innocence. “I have called you worse things, have I not?”
“That’s not the point!” Jayce sputtered, though he could feel his face and ears heating like a forge left unattended. If anyone were to walk in on this moment, he was certain he would die on the spot. Viktor had always called him a bitch or an asshole during their more heated moments, but never anything this soft, this personal. “You can’t just… say something like that out of nowhere and act like it’s no big deal!”
“Why not?” Viktor’s tone was mild, but his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, the same mischievous glint he got when besting Jayce during a heated debate. “Does it bother you?”
Jayce opened his mouth, then closed it again, his brain struggling to catch up. “I… no, it doesn’t bother me. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all!”
Viktor hummed softly, his gaze returning to the blueprint, as if the conversation had already ended. “Perhaps you should start expecting it.”
Jayce’s breath hitched, his pulse thrumming in his ears. Expect it? What the hell did that mean? His eyes widened, and before he could stop himself, a string of flustered words slipped out.
"Joder, Viktor, no puedes hacerme esto," Jayce muttered under his breath, his voice tight.
Viktor’s head tilted, his brows drawing together in curiosity. “Hmm?”
“You heard me,” Jayce grumbled, crossing his arms defensively.
“Maybe, though it doesn't mean i understood you.” Viktor mused, his lips quirking as he leaned forward ever so slightly. “Though you switch to Spanish when you are overwhelmed? Fascinating.”
Jayce glared, though it lacked any real heat. “I’m not overwhelmed.”
“No?” Viktor’s gaze flicked over him, lingering just long enough to make Jayce’s skin prickle. “Then why are you blushing so fiercely?”
Jayce groaned, dragging a hand through his hair as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. “God, you’re impossible.”
“And yet,” Viktor said softly, his voice dipping into something dangerously smooth, “you seem quite captivated, moje lásko.”
Jayce’s heart stuttered. He swore under his breath, the nickname landing with a heavy weight in his chest. “Stop that,” he said weakly.
“Stop what?” Viktor asked innocently, though the smug curve of his lips suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.
“You know what,” Jayce huffed, stepping closer, unable to stop himself from invading Viktor’s space. Their proximity only made things worse—the faint scent of Viktor’s cologne mingled with oil and metal, grounding Jayce in the maddening reality of the moment.
“I am simply speaking the truth,” Viktor said, his voice low, the teasing edge softening into something more sincere. “Or do you not like hearing it?”
Jayce’s resolve wavered, his defenses crumbling beneath the weight of Viktor’s gaze. “Damn it, Viktor...”
Viktor’s lips twitched, his golden eyes glinting. “Ah, so eloquent, as always.”
Jayce shook his head, a breathless laugh escaping despite the turmoil in his chest. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Viktor whispered as he stood, their proximity now dangerous. The warm timber of his voice threaded through Jayce’s senses, tightening the air between them.
Jayce’s breath caught. Viktor was right. He didn’t hate him. Not even close.
His gaze dropped to Viktor’s mouth without permission, lingering on the curve of his lips. The room around them seemed to vanish, fading into a blur of shadows and humming machinery. Viktor’s eyes flicked down, as though tracking the shift in Jayce's focus, and a charged silence fell between them.
Jayce’s heart pounded like a war drum. His fingers twitched at his sides, torn between retreating and closing the distance entirely.
“You’re looking at me like that again,” Viktor murmured, voice low and velvety.
“Like what?” Jayce’s voice was rougher than he intended, thick with tension.
“Like you are trying to solve a problem you already know the answer to.”
Jayce let out a shaky exhale. His mouth was dry, his body taut. “Maybe I am.”
Viktor tilted his head, eyes gleaming with challenge. “Then why hesitate, Jayce?”
The air between them vibrated with the weight of everything unsaid. Jayce swallowed hard, the pull toward Viktor undeniable. To hell with hesitation, he thought as instinct finally overruled logic.
And just like that, Jayce closed the distance.
Their lips met in a rush of heat and breath, Viktor's surprised gasp swallowed by Jayce’s boldness. The kiss was fierce and unapologetic, months—maybe years—of tension unraveling in one electrifying moment. Viktor’s hands fisted into Jayce’s shirt, tugging him closer with unexpected strength.
Jayce groaned into the kiss, the sheer rightness of it flooding his senses. Viktor tasted faintly of coffee and something sharper, something uniquely him. Jayce’s hand found Viktor’s waist, steadying him, grounding them both as their lips moved in a rhythm that was both new and inevitable.
The workshop faded into irrelevance. There was only the heat between them, the press of lips, and the hum of something Jayce had never let himself name until now.
When they finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Viktor’s eyes were molten gold, half-lidded and hazy.
“About time,” Viktor murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.
Jayce laughed, breathless and giddy. “You always have to get the last word, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Viktor said, smirking as he brushed his thumb over Jayce’s swollen bottom lip. “It is part of my charm.”
Jayce leaned in, his grin wide and teasing. “I’m starting to think I might love that about you.”
Viktor arched a brow. “Starting to?”
Jayce’s laugh echoed through the workshop, warm and full. “Okay, maybe I’ve known for a while.”
“Finally,” Viktor quipped, though his smile was genuine, soft around the edges.
Jayce cupped Viktor’s jaw, his thumb tracing along the sharp line of his cheekbone. “So... you gonna call me ‘my love’ again?”
Viktor's smile deepened, mischievous and knowing. “Only if you are very good.”
Jayce’s laugh turned into a groan. “You’re impossible.”
“And you,” Viktor whispered, pulling Jayce down for another kiss, “are mine.”