Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They had gotten him a second hand uniform from an old store down the street, his mother had tailored it herself, covering some of the major holes with patches, despite the uniform being old and ripping at the seams, it was the nicest thing he had ever worn. The sun was bright, the streets commotion familiar, the people rushing to get to work or leave their kids at school, the sun gave everything a gleam of life that Jayce welcomed in as he rushed to get to the Academy, only him could be able to be late on his first day of school...

His first class was at the auditorium, with professor Heimersomething, he had not taken the time to learn his teachers names, only Cassandra's, but that didn't count, he already knew her. He rushed into the classroom, confident that the class hadn't started yet, unluckily it had in fact started and right now everyone was staring at him like he had grown a second head. The professor was small and hairy, full on glaring at him from his spot on top of his desk.

"I hope this intrusion is well justified, mister...?"

Jayce wanted the floor to open and eat him.

"Mister Talis, professor..."

"Well, Mister Talis, care to explain why you just rushed into my classroom like a mad man?"

Correction, he didn't want the floor to eat him, he wanted to die right in this moment.

"I'm sorry, I just thought the class hadn't started..."

How long could a person glare at someone without blinking? Jayce didn't know but he was sure that the professor had broken a world record by now.

"Take a seat, Mister Talis."

Jayce rushed through the rows of seats in the semi circular room until he found a free spot next to a boy that looked around his age, he was pale, thin and scrawny and god- those eyes were...

"People are staring, if I were you I would seat before Heimerdinger kicks you out."

If I were you I would marry you... Thankfully he thought that and did not say it out loud, he plopped down and took out his old had scribben notebook and his dip pen, which had opened and had left a mess on his bag. Fantastic.

He cleaned his stained fingers on his pants and looked around, maybe there was a pencil on the floor or someone had an extra... A pencil rolled through the slightly inclined desks and landed on the small wood piece that prevented the material to fall down, he looked to the side at the boy, he was focused on Heimheim's speech, those glorious amber eyes shining with the streak of sun that filtered itself through the window...

"Quit staring..."

Jayce flushed hard, turning to look at the professor so hard his neck almost snapped in half.  

"...Quantum Physics is no joke, just having a low grade in this class could ruin your entire semester, so none of you wants to mess with me."

Heimheim had definitely looked at him when he mentioned that part. Jayce's notes were horrible, some of the pencil strikes messy due to him being left handed, some doodles and then his writing. If he focused he could actually achieve a somewhat pretty handwriting, but he was not feeling it today. The class eventually ended, and before he knew it the boy had rushed away, he didn't give Jayce the chance of giving the pencil back or asking for his name.

During the rest of the day he didn't even catch a glimpse of those amber eyes, he couldn't take that boy out of his mind, those eyes were burned into his brain. Walking home he was unfocused, too busy thinking about the boy to pay attention to his surroundings. That night he barely slept, and the following day he was the first to arrive, even earlier than the professor, he sat down on the same spot, a more clean notebook on top of the desk, a pencil of his own and the boy's pencil, ready to be handed back as an excuse to start a conversation. 

The professor entered and looked at him dumbfounded.

"I brag on being able on reading my students, mister Talis, but you for sure are something else."

Jayce looked up at the man, on top of a stool that was on top of a few books, the man started to write something on the chalkboard and Jayce simply smiled. Maybe being something else was bad, but at least he was something.

Slowly the people started to come in, and without him noticing a lean figure sat down on the seat next to Jayce and spoke up.

"I believe that is mine."

Jayce may or may not have stared at him without breathing or blinking until Heimheim asked for silence and the boy slowly took the pencil out of his hands.

He was definitely gone.

Chapter Text

It took Jayce the entire class to gain enough courage to speak to Viktor, so when Heimheim finished his class, Jayce took a hold of Viktor's wrist before he left.

"What's your name?"

The boy stared at him like he was a psychopath, Jayce probably looked like one.

"I have to go..."

"Oh.. Well, sorry, yeah- bye...!"

Jayce was pathetic, that wasn't new, but he had reached a new level and it was worrisome. He had to get that boy out of his mind before he went crazy, and having in mind he was already kind of crazy, he had to do it quick. 

The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months and the first semester ended. Jayce had not been able to give his best, he couldn't focus, and when he wasn't thinking about the boy, which he still didn't know his name, he was thinking about something else. Maybe about some stupid dream that was bugging his mind, maybe he saw someone with a new haircut and spent the rest of the class trying to remember what hairstyle they had before or what other hairstyles would suit them. And at the end his grades weren't spectacular. He knew he could do it and he was interested he just couldn't concentrate, it was impossible. Every time he tried to ignore that thing that was bugging him at the moment his whole body itched, his mind buzzed and he wanted to scream. But not everything was bad. He had learnt a lot of things about Heimheim's boy. Firstly, he had gained that nickname because the only class their shared was Professor Heimerdinger's class, in second place, the boy was disabled, Jayce loved that about him. He knew that many disabled people thought of themselves as imperfect or broken, Jayce could only see how strong and beautiful those "imperfections" made them. Heimheim's boy had, for what he could see, a limp. He used a leg brace and a cane and was it weird how the way he walked made Jayce's heart stop for a second or two? Other thing he had learnt was that the boy was incredibly smart. At least in Quantum Physics, but being honest, if he was a top student in that class he was the best at everything. So yeah, Jayce was a puppet for that boy and he didn't know his name. After the initial attempt of a conversation Jayce had tried many more times but the boy kept shutting him off. Sometimes, On Wednesdays, when Heimheim's class was at las period and Jayce was at his most overwhelmed and overstimulated state after a long day of overloading his brain with all types of information he wanted to cry and beg on his knees just to get a single piece of information from that boy, to hear his mind reeling accent directed at him instead of hearing it when he answered one of the hundreths of Heimheim's questions.

And it was on a Wednesday when Jayce laid his head on the desk and proceeded to ignore Heimerdinger that the boy spoke to him.

"We are partnered in the project."

Jayce was dumbfounded to say the least. The boy had finally spoken to him and Jayce just knew he was staring and then- what project!?

"Are you okay..?"

"Uhm yeah... But- I'm sorry, what project?"

"Quantum theory."

"Oh... That's simple?"

"It's worth 70% of our grade."

Fuck.

"W-well, then we should get started. I'm Jayce."

The boy visibly sighed before answering.

"Viktor. We'll do the project on your house, just tell me your address and I'll be there tomorrow at 5 if you're free."

It took Jayce all of his self control to not jump and kiss Heimerdinger for pairing them together.

"Yes! I mean- yes."

Jayce grabbed the cleanest piece of paper he had and wrote down his address, he swore when the words were smudged by his hand.

"Uhm... Can you read it properly...?"

Viktor, oh how glorious to know his name, stared at the paper, the messy smudged scribbling and just nodded slowly.

"It'll do."

Jayce was already counting the seconds until tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Telling his mother that a "partner" was coming home felt strange. Growing up, he never had friends—no birthday parties, no going out. Not that he could’ve afforded those things even if he had. So when he came home, happier than usual, and told his mother about Viktor, he felt like a kid with his very first friend. Because Viktor might not be his friend yet, but if he ever was, Jayce could finally say he had one.

Time always seemed to crawl when you were waiting for something. Jayce had learned that the hard way as a kid, when the night before his birthday felt like it would never end. And for a boy with a mind like his, he was already impatient a week in advance, staring at the clock and willing the seconds to speed up until the day finally came.

Now, waiting for Viktor to arrive, he was climbing the walls. He’d already cleaned everything in sight in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves—and maybe make Viktor think better of him. If he forced himself to summarize everything he knew about Viktor, he’d be left with… almost nothing. But the most important thing was this: Viktor had never seemed annoyed with him—just indifferent.

Jayce understood. Most people grew tired of him, or were only around to use him. Joke’s on them—he’d never had anything to offer except himself. He wore his heart and soul on his fists, and that had left him hurt. Eventually, it taught him to build walls between himself and the world.

That didn’t mean Jayce was rude or mean. On the outside, he looked like any other normal guy. He wasn’t ugly or unpleasant. He was just Jayce—the boy no one knew much about. Not because he kept people out, but because no one had ever cared enough to look in.

Then the doorbell rang.

He heard his mother greet someone with her warm voice and lovely accent, and he rushed downstairs, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"You're here."

Viktor looked at him and frowned, confused. For a moment, Jayce thought he might say something nice.

"Why wouldn’t I be here? I don’t want to fail—I actually care about my grades."

Jayce was stunned—half stung by the bluntness, half mesmerized by Viktor’s accent, the way it scratched at his brain just right. It bugged him that he couldn’t quite place it. Maybe one day he would.

He glanced at his mother, who was watching them with concern—not just for who her son was spending time with, but why he was getting his hopes up. Jayce gave her a reassuring look before turning back to Viktor.

"Follow me. My room’s upstairs."

Jayce turned and headed up. When he reached the top, he looked back to find Viktor only halfway up the stairs.

"Need help?"

"Do I look like I need help!?"

Viktor’s snarl was sharp, and Jayce was smart enough not to answer—even though sarcasm was usually his reflex. He was just glad he was awake enough to recognize Viktor’s tone for what it was: irritation and sarcasm, not actual need.

Eventually, Viktor reached the top, slightly out of breath and visibly uncomfortable. Jayce didn’t say a word as he led the rest of the way to his bedroom.

He let Viktor walk in first and watched him take in the space—a small, cramped room, its furniture a little too big for it.

"You can sit on the bed. I’ll work from the floor."

"Why not the desk?"

Jayce shrugged and glanced at his desk. It was cluttered, even after he’d tidied it up. Half the surface was still covered in stuff. The desk was narrow, too small for his broad shoulders and large frame. Besides, the chair was broken.

"Floor’s comfier."

"Sure. The cold, hard ground is better for working... Whatever. Do you have a laptop?"

Jayce looked at him and shook his head slowly.

"You should’ve told me. I could’ve brought mine. Now what?"

"I went to the library yesterday and got a few books on the topic. And if we really need a computer, my mom can drive us there to use the ones they have. Anyway, I doubt we’ll finish today, so you can bring your laptop next time."

Viktor didn’t sigh. He just accepted it and sat on the bed, waiting for Jayce to gather everything they’d need.

Jayce returned with the books, a few ripped pages from his notebook, and two chewed-up pencils. Then they both got to work.

It turned into a long evening—especially for Jayce.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Every time Viktor saw Jayce, his stomach performed that ridiculous, traitorous flip, and his already unsteady knees seemed to lose what little strength they had left. It wasn’t funny, or charming, or remotely pleasant — it was infuriating. A cruel joke the universe played at his expense.

Why him? Out of all the people on the planet, why did it have to be Jayce Talis? The question gnawed at him like an itch beneath the skin.

He felt foolish, absurdly so — like a lovesick teenager stumbling through his first crush. Sometimes he even felt younger than that, naïve and unguarded, soft in all the places he’d spent years fortifying. Not that he was old, but there were mornings when his body ached like it carried a century. After all, he was the only kid in the orphanage whose knees ached before it rained.

Jayce Talis was a menace — to society, yes, but more dangerously, to him. The man was utterly reckless, the kind of person who didn’t seem to realize that one careless tug could splinter Viktor in two. It was endearing sometimes, that thoughtless gentleness of his — the way Jayce saw him not as fragile, but whole. Yet it also hurt in the worst possible way, because even the smallest roughness, the slightest playfulness, could leave Viktor reeling.

He knew he was hopelessly, irreversibly fucked the day he caught himself staring at Jayce instead of listening to Heimerdinger’s lecture. He’d missed half the class before realizing his pen had stopped moving entirely. If his grades fell, he swore he’d murder Jayce — though that would mean no more nights in his stupidly comfortable bed or Mrs. Talis’s cooking, which tasted like kindness itself. Getting rid of Jayce wasn’t an option.

Fuck.

“A herd of ducks attacked me this morning on my way here.”

Viktor didn’t even have to look up to know Jayce was blocking the sun again — greedy bastard, always taking what little warmth was left for himself. Still, curiosity tugged at him, and when he did glance up, the sight nearly undid him. Jayce stood there with sunlight streaming behind him, haloing his broad shoulders and turning his hair into threads of gold.

If angels existed, Viktor decided, they probably looked like idiots.

“What the actual fu—”

“No swearing!”

Viktor inhaled sharply, counted to ten, and exhaled through his teeth. Then he looked back up, deliberately, shamelessly.
“How,” he asked, “did you even manage to make a bunch of ducks attack you?”

“They hate when people run near their kids.”

“Reasonable.”

Jayce laughed, the sound deep and bright, then dropped down beside him. The sun returned, spilling over them both like a slow exhale. Jayce’s tan skin glowed in it, his eyes catching flecks of light until they looked almost molten. Viktor felt the corners of his mouth twitch and immediately despised himself for it. He wasn’t supposed to find Jayce radiant. He was supposed to find him irritating.

“Your bus’ll take a while,” Jayce said. “Wanna go to my house?”

“Walking?”

“Yeah, lazy ass. Walking.”

Viktor tilted his head up the street, squinting. If he focused hard enough, he could just make out Jayce’s house at the very end. It wasn’t too far, but the thought made every bone in his body hum in protest.

“If I ever walk to your house, don’t open the door,” he said. “It’s not me — it’s a clone.”

Jayce’s laugh burst out, not loud but genuine, a soft sound that curled in Viktor’s chest. He turned away quickly so Jayce wouldn’t see the flush climbing up his neck.

“I’ll stop a cab,” Jayce said, grin still there. “But you’ll owe me five bucks.”

“God will pay you.”

“You don’t believe.”

“You do. That’s enough.”

“Not that much anymore,” Jayce admitted, his tone gentler. “My faith’s faded over the years, honestly.”

“It’s only a problem if you say so, Talis. Don’t stress yourself.”

Viktor didn’t miss the quiet glance Jayce gave him after that. He never missed anything about Jayce. Sometimes he noticed too much — the way his muscles shifted beneath his shirt, the faint scar near his jawline, the shadow of a dimple that appeared when

he smiled. It was infuriating how easy Jayce was to look at.

“Come on, Lazy Pants,” Jayce said, raising an arm to wave down a cab.

Viktor groaned as he stood, then groaned again as his body protested. The familiar pain rippled through his back and down his legs — sharp, cold, inevitable. It never really went away. He’d stopped expecting it to.

Jayce’s house was warm at night — not because of the fire crackling in the hearth, nor the mountain of blankets draped over the couch, but because Jayce was there, cross-legged on the rug and pouting like a sulking child. He’d just lost to chess for the third time. Mrs. Talis sat nearby in her rocking chair, knitting with the soft rhythm of someone used to watching this scene unfold a thousand times.

“Son, get the boy another blanket,” she said without looking up. “He’s shivering.”

Jayce dropped his act immediately, worry flickering in his eyes as he stood to fetch one from the couch.

“Vik, it’s pouring outside,” he said, shaking the blanket out. “If you look like you’ll catch a cold in here, I don’t even want to imagine you out there.”

“Jayce is right, boy,” Mrs. Talis said, voice warm but firm. “You shouldn’t go out. I’ll prepare Jayce’s bed — I didn’t get him a trundle bed for nothing.”

Viktor opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs. Talis was already climbing the stairs. Jayce was still watching him, those damnably gentle eyes soft and bright. They were the kind of eyes that could undo a person.

“Thanks,” Viktor muttered.

“Don’t thank me. I’m going to beat your ass at chess this round — I swear.”

“Dreaming’s free, Talis.”

“This is war.”

Viktor chuckled under his breath, adjusting his pieces and watching Jayce take the first move. It was strangely easy to forget the cold outside with Jayce sitting there, his brow furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out ever so slightly in focus. The sight made Viktor’s chest ache — in the good way, the unbearable way.

Jayce’s bed was obscenely comfortable. The kind of bed you could sink into and never claw your way back out of.

“Don’t start purring,” Jayce said from above.

“Asshole.”

“Touché.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, so hard he nearly saw his brain. Jayce was lounging on the top bunk, legs dangling off the edge, wearing a ridiculous pair of Christmas pajamas.

“It’s October.”

“Close enough to Christmas.”

“You’re a lost cause.”

“I know.”

“Asshole.”

“Say something new.”

“Good night.”

“Well, that’s definitely new.”

Viktor turned over, determined not to look at that smug grin — because if he did, he might just lean up and kiss it away.

The warmth of the room, the softness of the mattress, the faint scent of cedar and something distinctly Jayce — it all wrapped around him like a lullaby. For the first time in what felt like years, his body loosened, his thoughts quieted. He sank into the kind of sleep that felt almost sacred, deep and untroubled.

So deep, in fact, that he missed Jayce’s soft, whispered confession.

“Good night, Vik… I love you.”