Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All the difficult hours and minutes
are like salted plums in a jar.
Wrinkled, turn steeply into themselves,
they mutter something the color of  sharkfins to the glass.
Just so, calamity turns toward calmness.
First the jar holds the umeboshi, then the rice does.
— from “All The Difficult Hours and Minutes” by Jane Hirshfield

“Hey, Viktor.”

Viktor looks up from his book, sliding a finger between the pages to hold his place before closing it. Benzo stares down, his expression stricken, cheeks red and slightly puffy. He rubs a rough hand across his face, mopping off sweat and tears.

“Did you hear about Vi?”

Viktor frowns. “Vander’s eldest? No, I didn’t.”

“Big explosion in Piltover. Kids were there. I think she—” He takes a steadying breath, putting his hand on the back of the bench where Viktor is eating his lunch. Viktor quickly stands and lets him have his spot. He doesn’t even get the words out before he begins sobbing into his hands, pulling off his glasses and wiping his nose.

“Just today?” Viktor asks gently.

“Y-yeah.”

Viktor breathes. He puts a comforting hand on Benzo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Enforcers just brought the kids back. She’s—she’s still there. Vander’s trying to smooth things over now.”

Viktor winces. “I see.”

“Figured you might want to know. She was in your classes, wasn’t she?”

Viktor nods. It’s easier than telling the truth — that he hasn’t seen Violet or her siblings in school for weeks now, or that they’re lucky if the school even opens sometimes, with the way things have been. The consequences of peace, tentative or otherwise, often take time to trickle down. School has not been a priority for the children of Zaun for some time.

“Thank you,” he says. “For telling me.”

“Ekko’s a mess. Shut up in his room, won’t come out.”

“I’m sure he’s quite upset.”

“Blames himself for some reason. Can’t see why.” Benzo finally stands. “I’m sure there’ll be some kind of service. If you’ve got anything of hers from the school…”

“I will bring it.”

“Thanks.” Benzo tries to smile, but it only serves to make him look ill.

Viktor sits back down, staring out onto the street, watching people mill past.

The life of a child, snuffed out. It feels impossible to imagine, especially a child of Vander. Viktor looks down at his book — it feels trivial, now. He shakes his head, pressing the heel of his hand against one eye, staving off a headache. The walk home is long, slow. He climbs the stairs to his apartment, pushing himself up past the top step with his cane. For a while, he stands there, staring down at the stairwell below, wondering about the gravity of a fall.

There is a vigil for Violet.

Viktor brings her books and the lone bag she rarely carried to the Last Drop, handing it off to one of the servers to give to Vander. It’s Viktor’s understanding that Vander has smoothed over any trouble. Whatever cost has been paid, whatever consequences have occurred, the whispered rumor in the streets that they’d all be overrun with Enforcers never comes to pass. One of them is at the vigil, in uniform. She keeps to herself.

Viktor lights his candle when it’s handed to him, going up to place it with the others. The children aren’t there, and it’s probably for the best. He stands in the crowd with everyone else, listening to Vander speak about Violet’s bravery, and her persistence. The way she stood up for her family and always kept her promises.

“So I’ll keep mine to her. That Zaun will see better days, and there will be peace.” He lifts a glass. “For Vi. And for Zaun.” He drinks deeply, draining it in one go. It hits the table in front of him and rattles the room. “Let’s put on a song for her then. She hates the quiet.”

Viktor finds himself a table alone after that, having another drink, watching the crowd. They dance and share stories, but he has few to share himself. Vander comes to him later and thanks him for bringing her things.

“If there is anything I can do,” Viktor offers.

Vander puts a broad hand on his shoulder. “You do enough for these kids. It’ll get better, Viktor. You’ll have full classes by next year, you’ll see. Have to open an entire academy, just to compete with Piltover. You’ll be able to make a real wage from it, too.”

“A lofty dream,” Viktor says.

Vander nods. “If we don’t have dreams, we don’t have a damn thing. Have another drink, alright?” Vander releases him, and sends another beer to his table. Viktor takes it and lifts it in his direction, then toward the throng of candles under Violet’s photo.

For you, he thinks. And the version of you I will never know.

Viktor’s mother taught him to read by candlelight, on the worst days.

It will lift you up from darkness, she told him. To find the words to say and to write, to find comfort in a book.

She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t benefit him when he tried to get into the academy, or get a job in Piltover, or do literally anything topside. Viktor had returned, embarrassed and frustrated, but with a renewed sense of purpose. Stories had lifted him from darkness. Poetry and prose, too. He was not so foolish that he believed it was enough. Change would take time and effort, but so long as there were children in Zaun, there should be people to teach them.

So Viktor tried.

It worked and it didn’t. Sometimes his classroom was empty. Sometimes the building he taught in was blocked or occupied. Sometimes it was on fire. He still had to tinker and fix things to get by, but Viktor believed educating was his role, his place. And it wouldn’t be such a bad way to die, he thought, if it was his final act.

Vander’s children came to him the orphans of people Viktor barely knew. Vander was known for taking in strays, so to speak, and he left Violet and Powder in Viktor’s care one morning without much explanation — just a warning.

“She’ll bolt,” he said, pointing at Vi. “And she’ll bolt right after her.” He put a hand on Powder’s head. “Behave yourselves.” With a smile Viktor recalls — Violet rarely did.

He sees Powder for the first time since Violet’s death while he’s at the market, filling his bag. She spots him, too, and gives him a wobbling smile. Viktor lets her approach him.

“Good morning, Powder.”

“Good morning, Viktor.”

“How is today, hm?”

“Today is…fine,” she says. “It’s fine.” She picks up a piece of fruit. “You lit a candle.”

Viktor raises a brow. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I was watching.” She shows the fruit to the vendor who tells her the price. She sets it back down. Viktor takes it and pays for it, handing it to her.

“Here.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She takes a bite of it, juice and seeds running down her chin before she wipes it clean on her shirt. “Vander says I need to go back to school.”

He raises a brow. “I’m glad to hear that.” Powder makes a face. “When you’re ready,” he says. “There is no rush.”

She shrugs, following him through the market. Viktor finishes his shopping and walks her back to the Last Drop.

“You should come by more,” Powder says. “You don’t seem to have many friends.”

Viktor winces. “Between my work and trying to teach you I’m very busy.”

“Vander says excuses are the providence of poorly moraled men.”

Viktor barks a laugh and shakes his head. “Well, I would not want you to think me someone with poor morals. I will make an effort then, if you do something for me.”

“Sure.”

He raises a brow. “When you are ready, you will return to class and take your studies seriously.”

She makes a face. “I knew it.”

“It’s a fair trade, Miss Powder.”

“Fine. But you better be here tonight.”

“I will do my level best,” he says, and turns to walk home.

He makes good on his promise. It’s not every day, but a few times a week, Viktor stops by the Last Drop and has a drink. It becomes like an unofficial classroom some nights. Before Powder and the others are ushered off to bed, Viktor listens to their project ideas and makes notes on their drawings. He brings books to lend and share.

A month after the vigil, the grief is still intense, and palpable, but Viktor brings fruit and poetry to trade for stories and drinks, and it feels like, maybe things might begin to heal.

It’s a month and three days when a stranger walks into the bar.

He’s unkempt, scruff beginning to grow in on the face hidden under the hooded cloak. Viktor spots him immediately when he walks into the bar. The man sits at a table alone, nursing a single drink.

“Evening, Viktor.” Vander wipes a glass clean and begins to fill it. “More offerings?”

“Notebooks, just for ideas and such. Eh—” He points. “Who is that?”

Vander shrugs. “Dunno. Came in a little while ago. Figured I’d let him dry out and see what happens.”

Viktor nods and takes his drink, going over to the table where Powder, Ekko, and the boys are already fighting about some kind of clanging monkey toy Powder rigged up in class that morning. He pulls up his chair and leans his cane against the table, handing out the books.

“For ideas when they are fresh, and perhaps when they are old, too.”

Powder’s is a soft purple. She gives Viktor a knowing smile.

“Now, I thought perhaps we could revisit the poems I shared with you last week? Mylo, you had some thoughts?”

“My thoughts are they’re boring,” Mylo mutters. “Who cares about—”

There’s a sudden commotion from the other side of the room. Viktor looks over and the cloaked man is on the ground, a few regulars standing over him.

“Watch it, Pilty.”

“S-sorry. I just—” He fumbles over himself again, and the hood falls back, revealing a dirty, tired face with hair growing longer than it probably should.

On Viktor’s right, there’s a choking noise, and he turns to see Ekko launch himself from the table, flying at the man.

“You!”

Powder grabs at him. “Ekko!”

“It’s him! It’s him, he’s—” Ekko is on the man in a flash. Viktor gets to his feet, or tries as Claggor barrels past him. He doesn’t make it in time. Vander is already hefting Ekko into the air with one hand as he fights and screams against him.

“That’s enough!”

“It’s him! It’s him!” The man on the floor keeps backing up. The regulars who came in quickly make themselves scarce. “It was his stuff, it was his house, he killed Vi!”

The words suck all the air from the room. Viktor looks at the man sharply, then at Powder. She’s sitting, stock-still in her chair, gripping the table. The only sound is Ekko, fighting to free himself from Vander’s grasp.

“That’s enough, Ekko.”

“It was him!”

“Viktor.” Vander’s voice cuts through. Viktor looks up. “Get him out of here.” He jerks his head towards the man on the floor. Viktor nods, grabbing his cane and crossing the room. Before the man can react, Viktor points.

“Move.”

The man moves. Viktor helps him to his feet and leads him out the side door of the bar, onto the street. There’s a steady drizzle tonight, clean for the first time in a long while. Viktor guides him between buildings, ignoring his blathering and questions. By the time they get back to his flat, the man has finally gone quiet. Viktor locks the door behind him and leans heavily against it.

“That was a bit too much excitement for me, I think.” He wipes the sweat and rain from his brow, finally getting a look at his guest.

He’s tall, tan, and broad shouldered. A little thinner than he probably intends to be, from the way his clothes seem to hang. Viktor steps closer, peering at something…blue peeking out from under his shirt.

“...Was he right?” Viktor asks. “Were you the one they robbed?”

“Does it matter?”

“Quite a bit, actually.” Viktor moves past him. “Please, take off that cloak. It’s quite wet.”

The man looks down. “...Apologies.”

“Eh.” Viktor goes into the kitchen and puts on the kettle. “Tea?”

“If you can spare it.” After that, the apartment is silent. When the kettle whistles, Viktor pours two cups and brings one back into the living room.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

“What is your name, if I may ask.”

“Jayce.”

“Just Jayce?”

Jayce scowls. “No. But that doesn’t matter.”

“Perhaps.” Viktor sits down on his sofa and gestures for Jayce to take one of the chairs.

Jayce sits stiffly, holding the cup in his hands. He takes a sip. “He is right. It was my apartment. My equipment. I’m the reason—” He takes a shuddering breath. “I didn’t know those kids would be in there. I didn’t even know they were the ones who tried to rob me.”

“I believe you.” Viktor leans forward. “The explosion was over a month ago. Have you been…in hiding?”

Jayce shakes his head. “Prison. The blast nearly killed me—” He pulls his shirt aside, revealing the blue tinged skin Viktor saw before. “They kept me alive and then they exiled me. Destroyed everything. All my research, my life’s work—” He breathes again. “But it was that or an execution. Though I’m not really sure I got the better end of the deal.”

Viktor frowns. “You are alive, yes? That is quite an improvement over being dead.

Jayce scowls. “Well when you put it that way—” He points. “Who the hell are you? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Viktor.”

Jayce’s brow furrows, like he’s…processing this. Calculating. Then— “Alright. Viktor. Why’d he send me with you?”

“Because I probably won’t kill you.” Jayce flinches and Viktor rolls his eyes. “Please, relax. You’re in no danger here. I hold no grudge against you because you’re a topsider.”

“Not by birth,” Jayce mutters.

“Eh, it doesn’t matter to most people here. Your clothes are filthy, but they stand out.”

“Do you have something else I could wear then?”

“I do not. But I think—” There’s a knock at the door. Jayce nearly spills his tea all over his lap. “Against the wall,” Viktor says. “Over there. Quickly!” Jayce nods and moves out of sight. Viktor carefully opens the door, then relaxes. “Vander.” He turns around. “You can come out, Jayce.”

Vander raises a brow. “Is that our friend’s name?”

“It would seem so.” Viktor steps aside and lets him in.

“Brought him some things. Didn’t think you’d have much here in the way of clothes for him.”

“How thoughtful.”

Jayce stands in the center of the living room, looking exhausted and terrified. “I—”

“Don’t worry,” Vander says. “I’m not here to do anything to you. Take these.” He hands a bag to Jayce. “We’ll burn the clothes. I don’t need this coming back on Viktor.”

“...Right.”

Vander runs a hand through his hair. “I think it might be best if he stays here to lay low for a few days. I’ll have a chat with the fellas who were in the bar, and I’ve got Ekko calmed down.”

“How is Powder?” Viktor asks.

“Asleep. She didn’t—she’ll be fine,” Vander says quietly. “But you.” He points at Jayce. “I take it you aren’t welcome topside anymore?”

“I—no. I’m not.”

“Sounds about right.” Vander shakes his head. “We’ll have a longer chat when I can wrap my head around everything. For now though, you’ll stay here. If you cause Viktor any trouble, I will not extend the little grace I have left, understand?” Jayce nods. “Good.” Vander turns to Viktor. “Here.” He presses a bag into his hands. It hangs heavy with coin.

“Oh, I—”

“You’re feeding two mouths. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been going hungry to buy my daughter poetry.”

Viktor’s cheeks flush. “Y-yes. Well—”

“I’ll be back in a few days. Like I said—” He looks at Jayce. “No trouble.”

After he’s gone, Jayce collapses onto the sofa, putting his face in his hands and breathing deep.

“Fuck.”

“Go change. You may use my bedroom, and I have a washroom.”

“I—”

“Go. I will make something to eat.” Viktor turns and goes into the kitchen listening for the washroom door to click shut. He pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes deep.

What on earth have I gotten myself into?

Jayce sleeps nearly the entire first day he’s in Viktor’s apartment. He’s burrowed under the blankets on the sofa, snoring softly when Viktor comes out to leave for the day, and he’s still there when Viktor comes back, only waking when the kettle whistles on the stove.

“Wha’time is it?”

“Not too late. Sleep well?” Jayce makes a noise. Viktor brings him a cup of coffee. “Here. A bit more body for you, yes?”

“Thanks.”

Viktor nods and goes back to the kitchen. He hears Jayce pad in a moment later. “I’m making some fish. Is that alright with you?”

“Do you need help?”

Viktor glances over. “You can put some bowls out. I have rice as well.”

Jayce nods. He opens a few cabinets before he finds the right one and sets the table. Viktor turns two pieces of thin whitefish in a skillet and warms up the rice. Jayce hardly ate the first night and Viktor isn’t sure if he found something during the day. When they’re both sat at the table, Jayce stares at his food for a moment before picking up his fork and wolfing down his meal.

Viktor stares.

“…It’s good then?”

Jayce looks up, then back at his bowl. “I—” He flushes. “Sorry.”

“No, no. I would rather you feed yourself.” Viktor flakes off some fish himself. “Were you alone in Piltover?”

Jayce frowns. “No.”

“A spouse? Partner?”

Jayce shakes his head. “My—” He sighs. “My mother.”

Viktor winces. “I see.”

“She—she defended me. Tried to appeal to their sense of…pity, I guess. Told them I was unwell and asked them to send me home with her. Didn’t work.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out when I can get out of here.”

Viktor leans forward. “You mentioned last night you were not born in Piltover. Could you return there?”

“I…maybe. My mother is secure with my father’s titles. She has the house and the forge, it’ll be enough to support her. It’s just my exile she’ll have to carry.” Jayce shakes his head. “Stupid. So stupid. If I could have just convinced Heimerdinger to let me show him.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear this.”

“I do, actually.” Viktor takes another bite. “When it is safe, I can do what I can to facilitate a meeting between you and your mother. If you want that.”

Jayce looks up sharply. “I—yes! Yes, I would.” It’s the first time he’s looked happy since Viktor met him.

He smiles. It’s…nice.

“Yes, well. Once Vander says it’s alright.”

Jayce nods. “He’s good at cleaning up messes, I take it.”

“He cleaned up Zaun. Not alone, and there is plenty more work to do, but the undercity is better off than it was before.”

Jayce picks at his fish. “You’re from Zaun then?”

“I am.”

“So what do you do here? You were gone all day.”

Viktor nods. “Mostly I repair things, machines and such. But I also…try to teach. I have a very small school close by. It is not the most fruitful endeavor, but, eh, it’s what I enjoy doing.”

Jayce perks up at this. “Really? What do you teach?”

“Oh, a bit of everything. Chemistry, poetry, math, applied physics—”

Jayce laughs. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Education is not the sole providence of noble houses.” Viktor finishes the last few bites of his food. “The children of Zaun have great potential and we’ve made great strides since the fighting ended, but my own school can only do what I can do. These things take time, as well.”

“Were there no schools before?”

“There were. When I was young, before…many things, I went to school. A nice one, too. But, you know our history. My mother saw to the bulk of my education and I…” Viktor thinks about Singed. “There was some amount of…supplemental education.”

“Did you ever apply to the Academy?”

“Yes. Several times.” Viktor stands. “You will find Zaun very different from Piltover, obviously. I do not need to explain that to you. But you will find it much easier to process if you do not seem so surprised by the ways we have managed to survive. Progress and change continue, despite the challenges we have faced.”

“I meant no offense, Viktor.”

Viktor looks over. He probably shouldn’t be so hard on him.

“Of course you didn’t. I am not offended, Jayce.” He sighs and opens one of the cabinets, digging into the back and pulling out a small box. Inside is a half-bar of chocolate, broken off in pieces over the last several months. The markets have expanded the last few years, but confections are still hard to get. Viktor is plagued by a near-constant sweet tooth.

“Here.” He hands a square to Jayce and takes one for himself. “I do not know how long you will be in Zaun, but consider this your proper welcome.” He taps the edge of his chocolate to Jayce’s.

Jayce smiles again. “Thank you, Viktor. I don’t—” He sighs. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And, eh, you can do the dishes, if you are looking for a way to make yourself useful.”

Viktor comes and goes from his flat as usual for the next few days. Vander checks in once to take Jayce’s old clothes. There’s a minor disagreement over Jayce’s house pin — he refuses to give it up, so Vander concedes he can keep it if he doesn’t wear it all over the place once he’s free to come and go.

“If that ever happens,” Jayce snaps.

“You’ll be grateful,” Vander says. “I could have let someone else take you by now. Could have let the people baying for your blood have it. I’ve been generous, Jayce Talis.” Jayce startles at his name. Vander sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says, softer now. “It’s—some things are still fragile. I promise, you will be safe here.”

“Do that many people want me dead?” Jayce asks.

Vander looks sheepish. “No. Not many. But you’re a topsider and talking to you for more than a minute will give that away. If your plan is to stay in Zaun, you’ll need to be better acclimated. Which I know you can’t do in here, trust me, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Give me another week, I’ll get things smoothed over.”

“Seems to be what you do best,” Jayce says. He sounds miserable. Viktor feels for him.

“I try.” Vander takes the old clothes in their bag and turns to go. “I’ll be back soon.”

Viktor follows him into the hall. “Eh, Vander. A moment?”

“What is it?”

Viktor pulls the door shut behind him. “Jayce left behind family in Piltover. His mother. She fought against his exile and lost. Obviously he is not safe there, but if there is a way we can arrange a meeting, in the future? Or at least get a message to her now, so she knows he is alive and well?”

Vander nods. “That one I can manage.”

“Ximena Talis,” Viktor says. “That is her name.”

“Alright. Give me some time, I’ll let you know.”

Inside, Jayce has his head in his hands, body bent forward. His shirt is open just enough that Viktor can see the blue marks and bandages on his chest clearer now.

“Do those need to be changed?”

Jayce looks up. “No. I’ve been managing. It’s…mostly healed.”

“Is it? A month does not seem like enough time to recover from such an explosion.”

Jayce opens his mouth to reply. Snaps it shut. “…It’s fine.”

“I suppose they only needed you well enough to stand trial.”

“They weren’t unsympathetic. Heimerdinger fought for longer, but—” Jayce shakes his head. “There was a lot of damage. Other people were injured, too. One of the council member’s daughters…she’s fine, but she got hurt and it was my fault. She’s just a kid and she could have died like Violet. I—” Jayce’s breathing grows faster. Viktor comes over to sit beside him.

“You will work yourself into a fervor, like this.” Viktor puts a careful hand on Jayce’s shoulder. The contact makes him flinch, but he doesn’t pull away. “I imagine it was not easy.”

“I don’t need your sympathy. I was toying with forces I…I had no business having anything to do with.”

Viktor raises a brow. “Yes, actually, I have been curious. What were you doing that caused all this? Unstable metals? Caustic chemicals?”

Jayce shakes his head. “No. You—” He laughs. “You’ll think it’s absurd.”

“Eh, try me.”

Jayce glances at him and sighs. “Alright, fine. I was—what I wanted to do was—” He shakes his head. “I was trying to create magic.”

Viktor starts, raising a brow. “Magic?”

“Yes. With science.”

“Well, now I can see why they may have wanted to execute you.”

Jayce whips his head around. “What?”

“With the history of this world? Yes. If you’d been successful, think of the consequences.”

“I was trying to help people!” Jayce stands. “I was—you don’t know what the possibilities could have been. If we could have harnessed that power for good?”

“That is what all men say, just before they make a weapon.”

“It was never supposed to be a weapon. Magic—” Jayce steps back. “Magic saved me, and my mother. Magic is the reason we came to Piltover at all. We were going to die, we were alone, and he—” Jayce turns away. “Like I said, it’s absurd.”

“Absurd is not what I would call it. If I could see your notes…”

“Destroyed. In front of me.”

Viktor winces. “Ah.” That does sound painful. “I’m sorry, Jayce.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can only move on now, obviously.”

Viktor sighs. “Well, if you are that determined to help people, there are more ways to do so than conducting illegal experiments in your apartment. You have a working mind, and a brilliant one, from what I can tell. If you could apply that to the problems we have here. Perhaps you could do some of the things you hoped to do.”

Jayce shakes his head. “If I ever get out of here.”

“You will not be trapped in my home forever. Vander will work things out, or one of us will kill the other. Whichever comes first.”

At that, Jayce finally laughs. He sits down again and leans back. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I suppose so.”

Viktor pats his shoulder again. “I will make you some tea. You’ll feel better.”

“Is tea and coffee your solution to everything?”

“No, but if given the choice to struggle, or struggle with a cup of tea in hand, I think I prefer the latter.”

After three weeks of having Jayce sleeping on his sofa, two things happen at once — the first is Vander finds Viktor a larger place to live and decides Jayce can come and go, within reason.

“Between the house and the Last Drop. And you’ll be rid of those stairs.”

Viktor is grateful. Things have started to feel a bit cramped.

The second thing — Vander gives Jayce a message from his mother.

He takes it and reads it again and again, sitting on the floor of his empty room at the new house. Some of Vander’s people finish moving Viktor’s meager possessions in at the end of the day. Jayce finally gets up and follows Viktor into the kitchen to help stock the cabinets.

“She’s okay,” he says. “She’s upset, but she’s alright.”

“I suppose that is the benefit of a house name.”

Jayce makes a face. “House Talis isn’t—” He shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“No.” Viktor turns to look at him. “Please. I want to know you better. What is House Talis in Piltover?” Viktor knows very little about the houses, only that they bring privilege and status.

Jayce sets a few bowls in the cabinet. “My father was a blacksmith. He taught me to forge after he married my mother. His brothers are blacksmiths, too. And their children.”

“So the house name lives on.”

“My mother’s place in it is secure. They can’t strip her of her title or anything like that. One of my uncles will take my place as the head of my house, or a cousin. I wanted…I wanted my research to make a name for us,” he says quietly. “Instead I’ve shamed everyone.”

“They will survive. Nobility always does.”

“You don’t get it,” Jayce snaps, turning around. “You think every house in Piltover is dripping with jewels and going to the opera every other night? My family put hammers in the hands of the people. We built the bridge that leads into Zaun. We built buildings and roads and they thanked me with exile. I was living off my patronage. Everything I bought, the food I ate—” He shakes his head. “I was trying to elevate our name. I failed at that like everything else.”

Viktor raises a brow. “…Should I pity you then?”

“No. But if you’re going to lecture me with context about your own past, I feel like I have the right to do the same.” He turns back to the box he’s unpacking.

Viktor eventually comes to stand next to him. “…Forgive me. I have—we are both fighting decades of prejudice. If we are going to survive each other, it might be good to know one another better.”

Jayce glances at him. “...Makes sense.”

“How about we get a drink, hm? Vander said you could go to the Last Drop. I think it would be good for your head.”

Jayce nods. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

Viktor smiles. “You will find I often have them.”

Jayce laughs and follows him out of the kitchen. He tugs on the coat Vander brought him and a cap over his head. It’s cold out, but they’re also trying to keep a low profile. Viktor has Jayce stay outside before he goes in to clear everything with Vander.

“Got you a table right by the bar,” Vander says, and Viktor ushers Jayce inside.

The kids aren’t there. It’s late, and Viktor honestly hasn’t seen them outside of class since Jayce showed up. He misses their chats.

“How's the new place?” Vander asks. He brings over two beers.

“Very accommodating,” Viktor says. “I do not miss the stairs.”

Vander chuckles. “And you, Jayce?”

“It’s more than I deserve.”

Vander shakes his head. “None of that talk, son.” He clasps Jayce’s shoulder. “If you have a message for your mother, I’ll have someone deliver it.”

Jayce sits up straight. “Yes. Thank you, for doing that.”

“Family should stick together. I’m sorry you’re apart.”

Jayce drags a thumb through the sweat on his glass. “Yeah, well. She tried.”

“You’re alive,” Vander says. “And I’m sure she’s thankful for that every day. I’ll get you some paper.”

Mom —

It was a relief to get your message. I’m glad you’re alright. So long as you aren’t punished for what I did, I can rest easy. If that ever changes, you have to tell me. I’ll find a way to make it right.

I’m sorry for everything. I know this isn’t what you hoped for me, or for our house, but I’m grateful that you fought for me at the trial. I wish things had gone differently, I wish I was home, I wish maybe we could have left together, but Piltover is the safest place for you, and I will do my best to make my home here. I swear, I won’t go back. And I won’t go far.

I’m not alone. I don’t know if you met Vander, but he’s working on a way for us to meet, and I’ll wait for that day. He’s arranged for me to live with a local, Viktor. He’s a good man, and I’m thankful that he’s been so willing to put up with me. I haven’t been the easiest house guest.

I hope you can forgive me. I hope you can understand what I wanted for us, for our house and dad’s legacy. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I’m not going to give up on myself. You saved me. You kept the worst from happening. I won’t throw that away or waste it. I swear.

Please, be safe and be well. I love you.

Always your son,

Jayce

It isn’t easy, to be a blacksmith without a hammer. Jayce spent his childhood and teen years in the Talis forge, learning to work and shape metal and heat. He’s colder now than he’s ever been, realizing that he would often spend the winter working on projects to avoid the chill. Zaun feels colder than Piltover somehow, but he’s learning to live with it.

It helps that Viktor could blow over in a strong wind and puts a lot of effort into warming the house.

“Are you not freezing?” he asks one night at the bar. Jayce had left his scarf and hat at home.

“I think you have some kind of deficiency,” Jayce says with a laugh.

“Oh, certainly.” Viktor waves him off. He does that a lot, does a lot of speaking with his hands, his shoulders, the tilt of his head. Jayce likes to watch.

“Evening, gentlemen.” Vander comes over with their drinks. “Enjoying our newfound freedom?”

Jayce nods with relief. He’s finally been allowed to go places besides the Last Drop. Yesterday he and Viktor went to the market. It was thrilling.

“Thank you,” he says, for probably the thousandth time. Vander’s done a lot for him, and Jayce wishes he could figure out a way to repay him.

“It’s fine, Jayce.” He pulls up a chair and sits with them. “Since you’re here, I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Alright.”

“You need work. Can’t sit in the house all day, your hands need to be busy, and you need to contribute.”

“Yes,” Viktor says. “I’ve thought about that. If Jayce was teaching with me, I could expand—”

“We don’t have the students, Viktor. Outreach on that front is slow. You’re going to see more growth, I promise, but for now, I’m thinking Jayce might be more useful in a place where I can keep an eye on him.” He leans closer. “I’m not saying this to frighten either of you, but I’ve gotten word there’s some commotion up top. People looking for you.”

Jayce frowns. “Why? I had a trial, it was fair. The council voted on it.”

“Some of them are making noise.”

“Is it the Kirramans? If someone could let me explain—”

Vander holds up a hand. “It’s not. Some other councilor, throwing his weight around. I don’t think it’s going anywhere, but I’d like to keep an eye on you, and I can’t be in a thousand places at once. If you’re here, then I can have other folks keeping tabs.”

Jayce shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What, you’ve never worked in a bar before?”

“Is it that obvious? But…no, I just mean—” He sighs. “The kids.”

Vander nods. “I’ve thought of that. As far as I’m concerned, this is where you’re staying for the foreseeable future, right? Not running off?” Jayce shakes his head. “Then if you have to get used to us, we have to get used to you. That includes the kids. I’ve talked to them, and they’re doing alright, but Ekko’s going to need time to adjust. He’s…you got him real worked up that first night. It’s been a challenge helping him find some peace.”

“Perhaps I could speak with him,” Viktor offers.

“You could try. Powder misses you something fierce.”

Viktor smiles. “I will be happy to begin our extra lessons again.”

“So you want me…what? Pouring drinks?” Jayce asks.

Vander laughs. “Ha! You’re a riot. You’ll start by cleaning. It’ll give you something to do and I can make sure you don’t get killed.”

“Glad to know it still seems to be on the table.”

Vander shakes his head. “People get angry. They think they want violence, but what they want is closure.” He gets up. “We’ll work out the details. Come by tomorrow afternoon and I’ll put you to work.” He turns and heads back to the bar.

Viktor rests his chin in his hand. “Well, that wasn’t what I hoped for, but it’s a start.”

“Yeah. Probably for the best.” Jayce takes a long drink of his beer.

“...Are you alright?”

“Kinda have to be.”

“You don’t.” Viktor runs a finger along the edge of his glass. “But I am glad you’ll have something to do. I think it will make you feel better.”

“I feel fine.”

“You don’t,” Viktor says, “and that’s okay.” He sighs. “Well. Shall we finish? I have something I’d like to do tonight.”

“Sure.” Jayce drains his glass and they get up to go home. It’s a bit of a longer walk to the house than Viktor’s old place, apparently, but Viktor is happy not to have stairs to climb. In their back and forth, Jayce learned Viktor’s leg was damaged during his birth, and that it nearly killed his mother. He wears a brace under one pant leg most days, and one for his back. The walk is longer, but Viktor seems to enjoy it more. It takes them past some of the market stalls, and he stops to get a few things before they close.

“Here.” He hands Jayce some kind of bun. “It’s sweet inside.”

Jayce laughs. “You can’t resist, huh?”

“I work very hard.” Viktor doesn’t make money from the school — he makes his money from fixing things, things which are scattered around their house or the little building Viktor teaches out of. Sometimes he’s fixing things during class, or carries them to the bar. Jayce has often gone to bed and Viktor is still hunched at the table, tools scattered under his work lamp, repairing a clock or machine. All of Jayce’s offers to help have been rebuffed. Viktor prefers to work alone.

“It’s a form of therapy,” he said the first time Jayce offered.

Now though, Jayce can help. He wishes he were doing something with his hands, maybe down at the docks. They seem busy enough. But this will do. It’ll be good for him, even as he’s filled with dread over seeing the kids.

“What was it you wanted to do tonight?” Jayce asks as Viktor pulls out the house key. “Got a project to finish?”

“Eh, no.” Viktor turns on the lights and gestures to the kitchen table. “Sit, sit.”

“...Okay.” Jayce does as he’s told. After a moment, Viktor appears with a towel and a pair of scissors. “Viktor.”

“You need a haircut,” he says simply. “You look worse than you did when you got here. I don’t think your hair is supposed to be this, eh, unkempt, yes?”

Jayce runs a hand through it. It’s uneven, for sure. He usually keeps it short, but he hasn’t exactly had a reason to look any better or different. “Yeah, I guess not.” He glances over his shoulder. “It’s alright, though. If it’s…longer.”

“Mmm. And the beard?”

Jayce laughs. “Yeah, I think it could use a trim.”

“I’ll let you do that,” Viktor says gently. He wears his own hair shoulder length and often keeps it pulled back. Jayce has only seen it down a few times. “Ready?”

Jayce nods. “Ready.”

It’s not as bad as Jayce thought it would be.

Actually, it’s really not bad at all.

Jayce cleans and keeps his head down. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor ignore him the first few days, but when Mylo asks Vander, “Are you keeping him, too?” and Vander nods, they seem to warm up to him.

Ekko doesn’t come down to the bar. Viktor always says the kids really shouldn’t be there anyway, but when it’s empty enough he spreads out books and diagrams for them, lets Mylo hammer away at some gadget or another he needs to fix. Jayce sits with them when he has a break, but it only makes him miss all his books, now ash scattered to the wind.

“I could visit Piltover,” Viktor offers. “I know a few used book sellers. Maybe if you wrote down some titles?”

“If you take my money,” Jayce insists. Viktor shrugs. Today is a rare day off. Viktor usually spends them alone, away from the house for most of the morning and afternoon before coming back to make dinner. Today though, he’s still walking around the house with his hair down at nearly ten in the morning, and Jayce can see him favoring his right leg.

“Everything alright?” Jayce asks.

Viktor makes a soft noise, waving him off. Outside, someone shrieks, and Viktor startles, grabbing his cane and going to the door.

“What was that?”

“I think just—”

Viktor throws open the door, peering outside. It’s a beautiful, sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. The weather is cool and crisp and Jayce thinks there’s a snowbite in the air.

Outside, children are playing in the street. Viktor stares at them in wonder.

The kids stop what they’re doing and stare back.

“...Good morning, sir.”

“I…good morning.”

“Did we wake you up?”

“N-no.” Viktor shakes his head. “I only worried someone was injured. Please, carry on.” He steps back and closes the door.

Jayce clears his throat. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“I have…not for some time,” he says quietly.

“Vander said…he said the council voted to end the fighting just after he adopted the girls. That was six years ago. You really haven’t heard kids playing outside for six years?”

“The recovery process has been…long. Daunting. I spent my time in and out of Zaun, trying to…make play at being a topsider, I suppose.”

Viktor doesn’t talk much about that. The rejection. The disappointment. He mentioned briefly to Jayce that he’d interviewed to be Heimerdinger’s assistant some years before, but it hadn’t panned out. Obviously, he’d drawled.

“It is nice to know there is joy here,” Viktor says quietly. He sighs. “Would you like to go somewhere with me today? There is someone I’d like you to meet.”

Jayce nods and leaves to get dressed. This…feels like a privilege, and he can’t explain why. They put on boots and warm clothes, waving goodbye to the children playing in the street as they go. Viktor’s pace is a little slower, but if his leg bothers him, he doesn’t say anything. Jayce stays at his side, enjoying the quiet stillness of the late morning.

“This used to be a swimming hole,” Viktor says eventually. In front of them is a pit that’s mostly filled in. People are building on it. Vander says it will be new houses and shops. “When I was a boy, I would come here and play.”

“Seems like a nice spot to be with friends.”

Viktor snorts. “I did not have friends, Jayce. Not many.” He points to a stream flowing in front of the pit. “This way,” he says.

“V, be careful.”

Viktor stops, glancing at Jayce before he lowers himself down to a flat stone. “V?”

Jayce rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh—it just came out. I won’t do it again.”

Viktor shakes his head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. I’ve never really had any nicknames.” He reaches the bottom and gestures for Jayce to follow him, following the thin, trickling stream of water down until they reach a cave entrance. “Just a bit further.”

“Uh, is this safe?”

“No. It’s quite slippery. Please be careful.” Viktor steps slowly, in places he seems to know. Jayce goes after him, like trailing someone through the snow, putting his foot where Viktor does. They both have to duck to avoid hitting some lower hanging rocks, but eventually, it levels out into a cave. There’s old, dilapidated…lab equipment here, Jayce realizes. Machines that no longer work, tubes and wires that go nowhere. Viktor walks past all of it, further into the cave. He stops to pluck strange flowers from an outcropping in the wall, handing some to Jayce. “She enjoys these,” he says, and continues on.

Eventually, the cave grows bigger, and Jayce realizes if they go much further, they’re going to be going far below Zaun. But Viktor finally holds up a hand, purses his lips together, and whistles a little tune.

There is a chittering noise, the sound of dozens of feet slapping against wet stone. Viktor kicks one part of the wall, and a wave of bioluminescence erupts around them, revealing the source.

“Are these…”

“Waveriders,” Viktor says, smiling. “They come in the from bay. There’s a waterway further down, but accessing it would be suicide. They eat the algae on the walls. Rio, where are you?” He whistles again. The waveriders don’t pay Viktor any mind. They happily laze upon rocks and lick at the algae or each other. A few flop off and into the water below. Suddenly, a pink blur wizzes past, and comes to a skittering halt in front of them. It knocks Viktor off his feet, but all he does is swear, then laughs. “There you are.”

A pink waverider pulls back, looking at Viktor expectantly.

“This is who you wanted me to meet?”

“Yes.” Viktor reaches out and runs his hands over the top of the creature’s head. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

She is, Jayce thinks. She’s also covered in scars, her body marked in several places. She looks like she’s been attacked maybe, or even —

The tubes, Jayce thinks.

“Was she—”

“Yes.” Viktor feeds Rio the flowers. “I met her when I was a boy. For a time, I was under the tutelage of a man who once worked with Heimerdinger. Singed. I don’t know if he ever mentioned him.” Jayce shakes his head. “He taught me a great deal. About biology, about science and genetics. About loss, too.”

Jayce sits on a rock beside them. “I remember there was a scientist who was exiled. Heimerdinger was upset about it.”

“Yes, I suspect he was. My understanding is they had once been good friends.” Viktor motions for Jayce to feed her the flowers. She wraps her entire tongue around his hand, leaving behind a sticky residue. “Rio is a rare mutation. She was also dying when I met her, but Singed was…he was alternatingly cruel and honest. I am unsure if she’ll live, based on what I was able to do for her. To keep her alive merely for the mutation’s sake seems fruitless. But so far, she has continued to thrive.”

“Have you seen others like her?”

“No.” Viktor smiles. “She’s one of a kind.”

After the explosion, Jayce woke handcuffed to a hospital bed, his body alight with pain. It radiated through his chest and torso, a searing, white-hot ache that did not subside until someone realized he was awake and dosed him with pain killers until he blacked out.

Heimerdinger came to see him once, keeping his distance.

“I remember the day I met you at the academy, Jayce. So bright and fiercely dedicated. You reminded me of myself.” He sat in a chair. “A scientist ready to forge a new vector of experimentation. But sometimes…we venture too far, Jayce.” He sighed. “The young Miss Kirraman is injured. She will live, but she has sustained substantial injuries that will require time to heal. And there is the matter of one of the thieves…”

“They were—” Jayce winced. “I heard kids, I think.”

“Indeed, they were quite young. Tragically, one of them did not survive.”

Jayce fought against his handcuffs, chest seizing.

“Calm yourself, Jayce.” Heimerdinger hopped off his chair. “You need to heal, and then there will be a trial.” He looked at the bandages on Jayce’s chest. “I’ve argued for three months, but it will only be a few more weeks, I think.”

“Sir—professor.”

“What were you trying to do, Jayce? Be honest.”

“I—magic, sir. A way to harness it through science. If I could show you—”

Heimerdinger frowned. “Jayce. That is very serious.”

“But I—”

“The Arcane is dangerous, Jayce. And with such consequences as these, I don’t know how much I can protect you.”

“But if I could just—” Pain wracked his body again. Jayce cried out, gritting his teeth and breathing through it. A nurse came in with another needle, but Jayce wrenched away from her. “No! No more, I can’t even think—”

“There will be a trial in a month, Jayce. I will do what I can to temper the outrage, but…you should expect heavy consequences, my boy.” A single hand rested on Jayce’s. A cold comfort. “I’m…sorry. Truly. But there are some mysteries that are better left unsolved.”

Today, the real mystery is how Jayce is going to finish his shift when he’s in this much pain.

He takes his break outside, breathing in the cold air, hoping it will numb him. Behind him, the door opens and shuts, and Jayce says quickly, “I’ll be right there. Just need a few more minutes.”

“Why are you out in the cold without a coat?” Ekko asks. “I didn’t know you were stupid.”

Jayce turns and looks down at him. “Ekko!”

Ekko slides his hands into his pockets and looks up. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks.

“I—nothing. Just. It’s been a long day.”

Ekko rolls his eyes. “You’re bad at lying,” he says. “Vander sent me out here, said he was worried about you. I told him I didn’t care if he was worried, and he told me I needed to get used to the fact that you live here now and grow up.” He sniffs. “He also said it’s fine if I wanna be upset, but he doesn’t think it’s good for me, so.”

“...Right.” Jayce sighs and sits on the cold stone steps. “My chest hurts,” he says quietly. “My injury…it didn’t heal right.”

Ekko glances at him. “From the explosion.” Jayce nods. “Got it. So you’ll wind up with some cool scars and Violet dies. Seems fair.”

“That isn’t—” Jayce pinches the bridge of his nose. Why is he arguing with a twelve year old? A twelve year old who overcharged him and actively hates him? “You’re right,” he says. “It isn’t fair. None of this is.” He glances over. “You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

Ekko hesitates, then sits down beside him. He kicks at one of the trash cans. “...I told Vi about you. After you came in and bought all that stupid stuff. I thought you were some dumb, rich Pilty. I didn’t know you were doing science, or whatever.”

Jayce nods. “Viktor says you like science, too.”

“I do. But lately…”

“Lately you’re worried it’s dangerous.” Ekko nods. “It is,” Jayce admits. “And it isn’t. Sometimes it does things we wish it didn’t. Other times…” He thinks about Rio. About Viktor’s smile. “Science can help people. That’s what it’s meant to do. That’s why I always wanted to do it, anyway.” He nudges Ekko’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, what happened to Vi.”

“So who’s fault is it?”

Jayce looks up. The stars seem further away in Zaun, but Viktor always says the view has never been clearer.

“You know when you knock something down, and it knocks a bunch of things over with it?”

“Like dominoes?” Ekko says dryly.

Jayce laughs. “Okay, yeah. Dominoes.” He picks up some rocks from the ground and lines them up, knocking one into the others. They scatter. “A long time ago someone used magic to save me. If they hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be here. And maybe Vi would be alive, but maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe other things wouldn’t have happened. Maybe before that something else happened. We don’t know. But the point is—” He puts a hand on Ekko’s shoulder. “This wasn’t your fault. I take responsibility for what happened. I was experimenting with things I didn’t understand, and because of me, people got hurt.”

Dominoes and consequences.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore, Ekko. And I don’t want you to be afraid of something that makes you happy. Powder misses you when Viktor comes by after work.”

“She does?”

“Yep. She told him.”

Ekko sighs. “Okay. I’ll…think about showing Viktor some of my drawings, I guess.”

“Good. Now come on, help me up.” Jayce holds out his hands and Ekko laughs, hoisting him to his feet. “We better get in before Vander has our hides, huh? It’s freezing out here.”

“I’m not the one who came out without a coat.”

“Guess I am a little stupid,” Jayce says, and follows him inside.

The pain doesn’t get much better. Midweek, it’s bad enough that Jayce can barely lift his arms, and he needs to change his bandages. He’s been in their only washroom for nearly half an hour. Viktor knocks on the door.

“Jayce, if you are struggling in there that is fine, but perhaps we could speed things up?”

“I—” Jayce groans, pitching forward and nearly retching into the sink as another wave of pain hits.

“Jayce! Please open the door.”

Jayce does as he’s told.

Viktor flinches. He’s aware of Jayce’s injuries, he’s seen as much as Jayce will allow, but with the bandages off, he stares. At first, Jayce thinks he’s disgusted by them, but then he realizes — it’s…fascination.

“Your experiment certainly left its mark, didn’t it?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“And this is just from the residual effects of the crystals destabilizing?”

“Destabilizing isn’t really the word I’d use for what happened but…they did do that, yes.” And then blew up.

“Hm. Interesting. And you were bedridden for a month?”

“Off and on. They didn’t want me escaping, but I needed to move to encourage healing.”

“Not enough, I would say.” Viktor sighs. “You have not seen a doctor since you’ve been here, I realize. This is an oversight on my part and I will remedy this immediately. However, we do not currently have the time for a consultation. You need fresh bandages, yes?” Jayce nods. “Give them to me.”

“You don’t—”

“Lift your arms,” Viktor says coolly. Jayce attempts to do so. “You should not be working today. If you’d like to rest, I can stop by and explain the situation to Vander. He will be sympathetic.”

“I should work.”

“You should be recovering. Honestly, you should still be in a Piltovian medical facility, but they seemed to be in quite a rush to punish you.”

“A girl died, Viktor. Zaun and Piltover might have gone to war again.”

“You think your experiment could have caused that?” Jayce shrugs, which is a mistake. He lowers his arms and Viktor scowls. “Hold still.”

“Stop asking questions!”

Viktor rolls his eyes and unravels the bandages. “I concede, it could have caused further issues. I’m not sure if that is what Vander smoothed over. I believe he has a decent working relationship with a handful of Enforcers. They probably wanted to arrest someone.”

“They were kids.”

“I am not sure that matters to some. But, perhaps your exile was enough to quell their bloodlust.”

“Maybe—” Jayce flinches. “Careful!”

“Do you want it to feel better? It’s…leaking. That is not a good sign.”

“It’s healing.”

“I’m not sure that’s the case, actually.” Viktor sighs. “Right.” He finishes the last wrap, eyes flitting up to Jayce’s as he does so. “I will tell Vander you need the day off and a proper physician. He will take care of the rest.”

“No, V. I already owe him too much.”

Viktor arches his brow at the nickname again, but he says nothing. “Vander has invested a great deal of time and effort into keeping you safe. If you die because a wound that a real doctor couldn’t take care of gets infected, he’ll take it personally. Go lie down. Someone will likely be here in the afternoon.” Jayce nods. “...Jayce, please go. I need to shower.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Jayce flees the washroom.

He goes back to bed and sleeps until there’s a heavy knocking at the front door. A little man carrying a black leather bag rushes in, ushering Jayce back inside and onto the sofa. He pronounces the wound “mostly, if poorly healed” and tells Jayce disappointingly that it will scar “quite horrifically.” He washes it with something that burns so bad Jayce nearly punches his lights out, but it seems like bad form to hit the doctor who’s seeing him for free. He leaves Jayce with a small bottle of pain meds and something to wash his chest with at night.

“Another day off, I should think. That nerve feedback is something awful, I can tell. Vander will understand.” He packs his things and disappears nearly as quickly as he arrived.

In the evening, Viktor comes home and inspects the doctor’s handiwork.

“Very efficient, yes?”

“Uh, yeah. Extremely.”

Viktor smiles. “And? Does it feel better?”

Truth be told, it does. Jayce nods and pulls part of the bandage aside to inspect it. “Better than it has in a while, honestly.”

Viktor nods. “That’s good.”

It’s then Jayce realizes — he’s standing, shirtless, in the living room, and Viktor’s hand has been covering his heart for nearly a minute.

They both step back at the same time.

“I’ll make dinner,” Viktor says, blushing furiously and disappearing into the kitchen. Jayce quickly goes to put on a comfortable shirt and lie down until the moment passes.

A few months after Jayce starts working at the Last Drop, one of the regulars tries to recruit him to the mines.

“You look like a strong fella,” he says, leaning against the bar. Jayce raises a brow and keeps cleaning glasses. He doesn’t feel as strong as he used to, but he exercises as best he can, especially now that his chest is healed. “You’re wasted in a place like this.”

Vander puts himself between the man and Jayce. “Stop poaching my people,” he says sternly. “You know you’re not supposed to be out here recruiting anyway. Man wants to work the mines, he can go down and apply with the foreman himself.”

“S’not as dangerous as it was, Vander, you know that! And they stopped lettin’ the kids do it ages ago. Real shame, they were good at gettin’ in the cracks.” He finishes his drink and pays. “Well s’like Vander said. You wanna do some real work, see the foreman. He’d be happy to have ya.”

Jayce waits until he’s gone before he asks, “Is it? Safe?”

“It’s mining, Jayce. It’s never safe.”

“Right. But—”

Vander turns around to look at him. Not for the first time, Jayce feels very young and stupid under his gaze. “I know you want different work. I’ve no intention of you being here forever, but you need to find it on your own. And it shouldn’t be in the mines.”

“But if—”

“You aren’t really considering that.” Viktor’s face appears above Vander’s shoulder.

Vander chuckles. “I’ll let you two work this out,” he says, and walks further down the bar.

“Jayce.”

“What if I was?” He takes a clean glass and pours Viktor a drink.

“It’s dangerous.”

“A lot of people do it.”

“And get killed,” Viktor says quietly. “Or sick.”

“I know the regulations have gotten better. It’s not as—”

“I am not going to debate the safety protocols of mining with you, Jayce. If you want to get yourself killed or gassed, be my guest.” Viktor takes his drink and sits at another table, pulling out his tools and a box of parts. Jayce sighs, wipes down the bar, and sits across from him.

“Still working on the alarm for the bakery?”

“It is being temperamental.”

“I know the feeling.”

Viktor looks up sharply. “You are welcome to be annoyed with me. I know you would prefer to do more…manual labor.” His eyes flit to Jayce’s arms. “But if I can spare you the mines, I will do so.”

“I know it would be dangerous, I’m not stupid.”

“Then stop acting as such.”

Jayce scowls. “What’s your problem? Why do you care?”

Viktor’s brow furrows impossibly tighter. He looks down at the bundle of wires and metal in his hands and sighs.

“I worked the mines. When I was young.”

Jayce frowns. “...How young?”

Viktor shrugs. “My mother died when I was sixteen, so a bit older than some. I sorted materials. My leg and back kept me from using the tools or machines. I became very ill at some point and did not return. It…left its mark.”

Jayce glances across the bar. He’s heard Viktor’s cough late at night. Not often, but sometimes.

“I wanted to make machines that could mine. It was one of my old designs when I was dreaming about magic.”

Viktor raises a brow. “...That would have been interesting to see.”

“Yeah, well.” Jayce turns back. “Sorry,” he says. “It was stupid.”

“No, it made sense. But I…” Viktor’s cheeks flush a bit. “Selfishly, I would prefer you do something else. I know many are not so lucky to have the option, but I will be grateful that you do.”

“Wanna keep me all to yourself then, huh?”

“That is not—”

“Viktor!” The regular throng of children rushes to the table. “What are you working on?” Powder asks.

“Eh, it’s just an alarm system,” he says. “Here, press this—”

Jayce gets up. “You guys have fun,” he says, and walks back to the bar.

Jayce learns pretty quickly that Viktor has a reputation. People come by their house with things for him to look at or fix every week, sitting at the table next to him and explaining how it completely broke on its own, honest, Viktor, don’t even know how it wound up that way.

Viktor takes these things and repairs them. It’s the only way he makes money at all. Most of it goes toward food, firewood in the winter, once toward a new coat because Viktor’s was falling apart —

But a little bit of it goes into a box to save for the academy Viktor dreams about.

“Vander planted the idea,” he explains one night over drinks. “A way to compete with Piltover.”

Jayce likes listening to him talk about it. He thinks Viktor is a brilliant teacher, likes watching him explain things to the kids about how machines work, or the inside of a plant cell. And they’re hungry for knowledge. He keeps to himself that he isn’t sure how sustainable Viktor’s solitary classroom is — Jayce is an outsider, he still sees things like a topsider. Unraveling that is…difficult.

So he listens. He watches Viktor fix things, and he learns to be this new version of himself.

“Are you ever going to let me help?” he asks one evening. Viktor’s been working on one particular project for days. He’s set their kitchen table on fire twice.

“Hm?” He looks up, pushing his goggles off his face and frowning. “No,” he says. “This is my work, I can handle it.”

“Okay, okay.” Jayce lifts his hands and sits across from him. “You know—”

The front door rattles. “Viktor! Viktor, are you in there?”

Jayce jumps up. The banging starts again.

“Viktor—”

Jayce yanks open the door. “What’s going on?”

A miner, covered in grime and ash, stands with a lantern in his hand, shaking. “Where’s Viktor?”

“Here.” Viktor appears beside Jayce. “What is it?”

“One of the lifts. Jammed. And there’s gas—”

Viktor nods. “I’ll get my things.” He turns and starts packing his tools, throwing everything he has into a bag. “Jayce, there is a crate in my bedroom. Please get it.”

“Right.” Jayce runs. The crate is shut tight, and heavy. He brings it back. “Viktor—”

“I need your help,” Viktor says. “I—please.”

“Yes. Whatever I can do.”

He nods. “Carry that, put on your good boots.”

Jayce does as he’s told. Outside, they get into a cart with a sputtering motor on the back. Jayce holds tight. He hasn’t been so far from the house yet, and the closer they get, the thicker the air becomes — soot and a stench that chokes him. He’s grateful when they get off the cart and someone hands them both masks.

“Slow breaths,” Viktor says. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Viktor nods and follows the miner. It’s dark, lit only by flickering green and yellow lamps. Everyone is crowded around one pit, gesturing and worrying, pacing around.

“Tell me what happened,” Viktor says, peering down.

“The mechanism. Got all jammed up. We got it working, but the whole thing shorted. Fried a couple fellas.”

“The generator?”

“Fucked. Hasn’t been working right in weeks.”

Viktor makes a noise. “You should have said something.”

“Things have been going fine since the new regs, didn’t think we’d need you.”

Viktor shakes his head.

“Regulations cannot fix something that is broken. You must do that work first.” He points to the crate. “Open that, Jayce.”

“Right.”

“You look at the generator, figure out what’s wrong. I will repair the lift.”

Jayce nods. Someone takes him to the generator and he inspects it. The mine is loud, air thick with a deep stench. He kneels down and starts pulling at different parts of the generator, inspecting it. A short here, he realizes, and damage to some vital parts. He goes back and pulls some tools from the crate. Viktor is already surrounded by parts from the lift, balanced on top of a ladder. He nods to Jayce and keeps working.

It gets hot, fast. Jayce strips out of his coat and wipes sweat and a rapidly growing layer of grime from his forehead. It feels like it’s seeping into his clothes already, something slick and black that slides across his knuckles. A small group gathers around him as he works, one of them pointing a flood lamp. They mutter to one another, commenting as Jayce tries one fix after another to no avail.

“Jayce!”

“I’m still working!”

“You have to hurry!”

“It’s not—”

Viktor appears beside him. “You can do this. Tell me what to do.”

Jayce nods. “Hold this wire.” Viktor grasps it, moving when Jayce tells him to, guiding him when he needs it.

There is a moment when Viktor does something before Jayce even asks him to, when his hands move and everything just — clicks.

This. They were meant to do this.

“Alright.” Jayce looks up and nods. “Crank it.”

Behind them, the lift roars to life, and the miners shout, gathering around to help their trapped companions. Jayce falls back, overheated and breathless, grime dripping down his face. He pushes his mask up.

“You did it,” Viktor rasps, sitting beside him. His mask dangles around his neck and he tosses his cane at their feet.

“We did it.” Jayce looks down. “Your cane’s busted.”

“I have another at home.” Viktor leans against Jayce’s side, as heavy as he’ll ever be. One slender hand reaches out and Jayce reaches back. “We did do it. Didn’t we?” Jayce nods. “I am—grateful,” Viktor says, and puts his head on Jayce’s shoulder.

It’s late when they return, filthy and tired. They both strip out of most of their clothes on the porch, stumbling inside. Viktor loses his balance, grasping Jayce’s arm when he offers it. He even lets him take off his braces, sacred objects Jayce had never considered touching.

“You should wash up first,” Jayce offers.

Viktor turns on the light of the washroom, bathing them both in a soft yellow glow.

“Jayce—” he croaks, taking an unsteady step back. “I don’t care. I—” He turns the handle for the shower. “I’m so tired. Just—”

“Viktor.”

“Wait or don’t wait, I don’t care.” He turns his back to Jayce and drops his underwear, stepping over the edge of the cracked tub and into the hot spray of the shower. Jayce thinks he should look away, but Viktor just stands there, and the grime and dirt trickles down off his scalp and face, along the thin, pale column of his torso.

Jayce gets in the shower.

It’s a dance. Careful not to touch, too tired really to care. Viktor gives Jayce room, but the shower is small for him even when he isn’t sharing it. It doesn’t feel wrong, or charged beyond the typical one Jayce feels between himself and Viktor. Always something there, a potential, thrumming just beneath the surface. They turn and the water spills between Jayce’s shoulders. He tips his head back and groans as dirt comes clean from his hair and beard. The tub is dark with ash. Viktor scrubs the grease from his face, his arms and shoulders, passing the heavy handmade bar of soap to Jayce.

Silent understanding. Another turn. Viktor stands under the spray and closes his eyes. Jayce cleans himself and they both stand in the water until it runs clear down the drain.

Viktor turns the handle and the pipes rattle in the walls. Jayce grabs a towel and steps out, wrapping it around his waist before he turns to hold out a hand to Viktor.

“Let me help you to bed,” he says.

Viktor looks up. Water drips steadily from his hair and onto the floor. Jayce can see a bruise blooming on his cheek.

“V—”

“Shut up.” Viktor throws himself into Jayce’s arms —

And kisses him.

Jayce hears himself make a noise, his whole body going into a brief shock before he moans and loops his arms around Viktor’s waist. He lifts him easily from the tub and hikes one leg up, around his waist. The towel comes loose and falls to the floor.

“Bed—” Viktor manages, even as Jayce is already moving him there, knocking them both into the wall next to the bedroom door before stumbling inside. He drops Viktor as gently as he can manage on the bed, crawling up after him to kiss and kiss and kiss —

(For weeks Jayce has wanted to kiss him. For weeks Jayce has wanted to know what Viktor tastes like, to kiss the mole on his cheek and the one under his eye. To know what he sounds like when Jayce licks into his mouth, when he grinds against his cock — )

Jayce trails his lips across Viktor’s jaw and down his neck, sliding two hands up his shower-slick chest.

“Viktor—”

“Jayce, please.”

“Just let me-”

“Anything, anything—” Viktor’s nails dig into Jayce’s shoulders and claw. Jayce hisses, arching into the touch. “Under the sink,” Viktor gasps. “There’s—”

Jayce nods, kisses him one more time. “Don’t move,” he says, and crashes back into the washroom, digging in the cabinet under the sink for what he assumes Viktor wants. He finds it, a bottle of oil, and grabs another towel for Viktor’s hair. A shudder wracks his body and Jayce squeezes his eyes shut, steeling himself and getting to his feet. He spots his reflection — still a little dirty, a spot here and there, the blue skin of his chest screaming in the light.

His lips, kiss-red and swollen.

“Right.” Nothing to be nervous about. Just the first time you’ve been with someone in over a year. Probably longer.

Definitely longer.

He turns and goes back into Viktor’s room. “This what you wanted?” he asks.

Viktor doesn’t answer. He’s rolled over in Jayce’s absence, one hand reaching for the other side of the bed, an arm tucked under his head. He snores softly, twitching slightly in his sleep.

Jayce stares. He can’t really help it — Viktor is beautiful. He sets the oil on Viktor’s dresser and goes to arrange him further on the bed.

“S’morning?” Viktor asks, stirring under Jayce’s touch.

“Not yet. C’mere, your hair is soaking wet.”

“Cold,” Viktor mutters.

“I bet.” Jayce gently wrings some of the water free, wrapping the towel around it before lowering Viktor’s head to the pillow. He pulls the blanket up to cover him and steps back.

“Jayce?”

“It’s late, V. Go to sleep.”

Viktor nods, yawns, and drifts off again.

Jayce stays until he can’t stand himself, before going to his own room to fall into bed.

Jayce is sore in the morning, a dull ache resting in his shoulders and chest from being hunched over the generator. He makes coffee and finds one of the pills his doctor left behind.

“Are you…making breakfast?”

Jayce turns. Viktor is leaning on the other cane Jayce found this morning, wearing a sweater and loose pants. His hair is twisted haphazardly into a bun.

Jayce has never wanted to kiss someone more.

“Yeah,” he says, turning back to the stove. “I can cook, you know.”

“You never do.”

“Someone is kind of a control freak about the kitchen,” Jayce says, glancing over. Viktor’s mouth curls as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you for finding this.” He lifts the cane.

“Don’t mention it.”

Viktor pauses. “…Are there other things I should not mention, Jayce?”

Jayce passes him the sugar bowl. “Only if you don’t want to, Vik.”

Viktor nods. “I think we were very…excited.”

“Adrenaline,” Jayce suggests.

“Precisely.” Viktor spoons a grotesque amount of sugar into his mug, chasing it with a heavy splash of cream. “Last night was…intense.”

“It was.”

“Perhaps, if we are going to continue to live and work together, we should, eh, you know.” He waves a hand between them. “Move past it.”

Jayce raises a brow. “Work?”

“Certainly.” Viktor turns, looking at Jayce over the top of his mug. “I think you proved at the mine we make an excellent team.”

“We did. We do.”

“Then let’s be a team. Let’s—” He gestures. “Let’s do the things you wanted to do before you were exiled. Let’s help people. Together.”

Together.

“As partners,” Jayce says.

Viktor nods. “Partners.”

He holds out his hand.

Jayce looks at it. He remembers last night in beautiful, agonizing detail — the sound Viktor made when Jayce rolled their hips together, when Viktor’s mouth was pressed hot against his own. When, for a moment, oblivion was a possibility, and Jayce wanted nothing else.

Well. This might do, he thinks.

He shakes Viktor’s hand.

“Alright. Partners.”

Chapter Text

The grief of what hasn’t yet happened —

a door closed from inside.
— from “Works & Loves” by Jane Hirshfield

When Viktor arrives at the caves early in the morning, he does not expect…any of this. He brings his usual offerings and waits for Rio to come to him, but even after whistling and shooing off her kin, she still doesn’t come.

“Where are you?” he murmurs, getting up to look around the cave. He usually tries not to go too far in — he’s slipped more than once and come home with bruises, much to Jayce’s frustration. But the older Rio gets, the more Viktor worries. He kicks the wall again, igniting the algae —

And there, bathed in bioluminescence, half her body submerged in a tidal pool, he sees her.

For a moment, she looks…dead.

It strikes him, a searing spike through the heart. He moves faster, only to find her very much alive —

And guarding three babies.

“Are these…yours?” he asks, kneeling down and gently rubbing the top of her head. She makes a soft noise under his touch, seeming pleased with herself. Two of the babies are a dark blue, nearly black, but one of them, the smallest, is a pale pink. They all sit at the bottom of the pool, completely submerged, their back legs not quite formed. They remind Viktor of very large tadpoles.

“I have no idea how to care for them,” he says, feeding her a handful of flowers. “But I’m sure you will know what to do.” He smiles. “I am so proud of you, my impossible girl.”

When Viktor steps out of the caves and into the sun, he’s met with an imposing figure blocking the light.

“I thought I might find you here.”

He smiles. “Good morning, Miss Powder.”

“You’re slimy,” she says. “Need a hand?”

“Please.” Viktor lets her help him up the rocky steps and onto the street. “To what do I owe the pleasure this morning, hm?”

“No reason,” she says, folding her hands behind her back and trailing after him.

“Mmhm. Forgive me, but, eh, you typically do not walk all the way down here by yourself.”

“You walk down here at the crack of dawn,” she mutters, kicking a rock down the road. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yes. A surprise, today. Rio has given birth.”

Powder stops. “Whoa, wait, really?”

“Mmhm.”

“How can you be sure?”

“One of them carried her mutation, it would seem.”

Powder jogs to catch up again. “That’s incredible. Claggor would want to meet them, I think.”

“He did mention he was interested in Rio’s genetics, yes.” Viktor sighs. “So? What can I do for you, hm?”

Powder’s cheeks flush. She sticks her chin out, furrows her brow. “I want to sign up for the competition, in Piltover.”

“The Distinguished Innovators Competition?” She nods. “I thought you already had. With Ekko.” Powder scowls. “...Did something happen?

“Creative differences. I need someone else to help me.”

Viktor nods. “Well, a partner is always good to have in these situations. If not Ekko, perhaps—”

“Would you?” she asks. “Help me?”

Viktor sighs. They stop to let a few carts pass by. Across the road is his favorite sweet bun merchant. Viktor motions for her to follow and buys one for each of them. “I am very flattered, Powder, but I don’t think I would have time for something like that. The shop is very busy.”

“Make time! Tell Jayce I need you.” She takes a bite from the sweet bun. “I can’t do this by myself.”

“I’m sure you could,” he says. “But I would not recommend it. Eh, what really happened with Ekko?”

The furrow in her brow deepens. Viktor tries to look sympathetic.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I see.”

She shakes her head. “He’s just—he’s so stubborn!”

“Much like someone else I know.”

“Not like him,” she snaps. “He just digs his heels in and he has to be right.” She shoves the last bit of the sweet bun in her mouth. Viktor pities it, just a little.

“Well, perhaps Mylo or Claggor would help.”

“Working together, attached at the hip—” She ticks off the reasons on her fingers, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “I hate boys.”

I miss Vi settles, unspoken, between them.

They come to a stop outside Viktor and Jayce’s shop. “You are quite capable, Powder. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Viktor leans on his cane and opens the door, letting her inside.

“Need any help today?” she asks, looking around. She immediately goes to one of the shelves, turning over a music box Viktor repaired last week. He suspects he’ll have it sold soon. “You’re undercharging for this.”

Viktor scowls. “You sound like Jayce.”

“Who does?”

Viktor looks up as Jayce sticks his head between the curtains leading to the back of the shop.

“Powder also takes issue with my pricing.”

“Glad you’re hearing it from someone else.” Jayce steps out and behind him — “Ekko was just asking for some advice about the competition.”

“No,” Ekko says. “I was asking for your help.” He turns, catching sight of Powder, and huffs. “What are you doing here?”

“Asking Viktor the same thing,” she says.

“So you don’t want to work together anymore?”

“Well, you made it pretty clear I wasn’t helping.”

“You were the one who shot down every idea I had last week!”

“I was offering other ideas! You’re the one who came to me first!”

Jayce steps between them. “Whoa, whoa. Okay. You guys have been working on this for weeks already, you can’t scrap a project for a new one this late in the game.”

Ekko rubs the back of his neck. “I thought you might have some big idea. You and Viktor were working on that generator—”

Jayce shakes his head. “Viktor and I are not entering the competition, with either of you. I can’t, and while I won’t speak for Viktor—”

“Feel free,” he says, leaning over a box of parts that were delivered the day before.

“It’s just not something we have time for. You need to work through this, okay? Every partnership has its rough patches—”

Viktor snorts.

Jayce turns. “Something funny?”

“No, no. Carry on.”

Jayce sighs. “Right. I’m having lunch with my mother. I hope you guys figure this out.” He stops and puts a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Sure you don’t wanna come?”

“I’m sure. But, please, tell her I said hello.”

Jayce winks. “Will do. See you guys.” He grabs his coat and heads out of the shop.

Viktor continues digging through the box. Behind him, Powder clears her throat.

“If we…work together. Can we use the shop for stuff?”

Viktor straightens, wincing as his back twinges. “Ah.” He turns around. “You both have perfectly serviceable workshops at home.”

“I could use the forge,” Ekko suggests. “There’s some parts I need to make myself.”

“You do not know how to use the forge.”

“Jayce could teach me.”

Viktor sighs, running a hand through his hair. Jayce had a small forge built beneath the shops a few years earlier — both for his own sanity and to make replacement parts. Sometimes he goes down there just to work through a particularly rough day. Viktor envies him, a bit.

“I…suppose. But you have to clean up after yourselves, and you’ll ask Jayce about the forge, alright?”

Ekko grins. “Got it.” He turns to Powder. “I’m…sorry for being an ass.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry for ripping up your blueprints.”

Viktor frowns. “You ripped up his blueprints?”

“I said I was sorry! We have three copies of everything because someone is paranoid about losing them,” she says.

“Yeah,” Ekko snaps, “I wonder why.”

Viktor rubs the bridge of his nose. “Please,” he says. “If you are going to bicker, at least do it somewhere you can work on things? I have a lot to finish today.”

Powder’s expression softens. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, yes.” He waves her off. “Go on, enjoy yourselves.”

Powder gives him one last look before she nods and the two of them leave. Viktor sets up behind the desk, pulling out their books to crunch some numbers.

Things have been going well, especially the last two years. Between regular contracts with the mines and a handful of shops, they’ve been more than able to break even. Viktor had his doubts, years ago, when Jayce first suggested they buy the building. It had required a loan from Vander and Silco, who had returned to Zaun with a pocketful of coins and scars he was not willing to discuss.

That was a story Viktor never really heard. He only knew Vander and Silco old friends who nearly killed one another before Vi and Powder came into the picture. He’d come back to Zaun six months after Jayce was exiled. These days, he ran the Last Drop alongside Vander, was a second father to Powder. Viktor wasn’t privy to the nature of his and Vander’s relationship, but Jayce had it on somewhat good authority they were “basically married.”

“I mean, it’s clear they’re in love,” he’d said.

“Is it?” Viktor asked.

“Sure. To me.”

Viktor sighs. The money is good, and the work is satisfying. It’s not what he wanted, even though Jayce tells him all the time there will be money for an academy before Viktor knows it. They save a little every month, but they’ve had to dip into it more than once — when Viktor got sick a few years back, when Jayce broke his leg falling down at one of the mines. For the forge, which was a good investment, but still weighs heavily on their accounts.

Jayce returns an hour or so later. He has lunch with his mother just on the border between Zaun and Piltover every week. Sometimes he comes back happy, sometimes he comes back sad. Today —

“I’ll be downstairs,” he says, before Viktor can speak.

Viktor winces. He gives it fifteen minutes before he sighs and grabs his cane, going downstairs.

When Jayce first had the forge built, he spent days under the shop relearning the muscle memory that had faded with disuse. His chest injury had healed, but it made reaching up sometimes difficult without proper practice. The forge was therapy for Jayce’s body, a way for him to know his old habits again. He told Viktor once it felt like an old friend, someone he could start talking to again without missing a beat. Viktor supposes there’s a language when it comes to working with metal, to knowing how to mold it, shape it. When he comes downstairs, Jayce is peeling out of his shirt, inspecting his tools and looking over some of their schematics.

“Powder and Ekko seemed to work things out,” Viktor says.

“That’s good. He was being an ass about their project earlier. Told him to get it together. He’s going to lose that girl if he’s not careful.”

Viktor shrugs. “It is young love,” he says. “You know how it is.”

Jayce glances at him. “I do.” He hands Viktor one of the schematics. “You made changes to this.”

“I thought it was a bit unbalanced. I was going to tell you.”

“Next time do it sooner,” Jayce snaps, turning around.

Viktor sighs. “What is the matter, hm? You alter our designs without consulting me all the time.” He maneuvers himself between Jayce and the forge. Heat pours out, flaring up behind him. Jayce pulls him away.

“My mother is going to petition the council to reevaluate my sentencing. She wants me to come home.”

Viktor feels a twinge in his chest. “...Oh. I see.”

“We fought about it. I told her it wasn’t a good idea. The council structure’s changed since I was sentenced. If they agree to try me again, I could be executed.”

“They wouldn’t! They—that would be ludicrous. You’ve lived outside Piltover for…for—”

“Eight years,” Jayce says quietly.

Viktor doesn’t feel like that’s right, but…Jayce would know. Of course he would know.

“But they…they could also agree you have served your penance. Allow you to return.”

Jayce nods. “That’s what she’s hoping for. To be honest, the more likely scenario is they uphold my exile. Having a public trial and execution wouldn’t be good optics, especially with the way things are. And no one in Piltover has heard from me since I left, except my mother. I’ve…behaved.” He runs a hand through his hair.

It needs a trim.

“What do you want?” Viktor asks.

“I don’t know. Time? She wants to rush everything, have it over and done with, but I don’t even know if the council will speak to her. My old house isn’t important.”

“Not so many people buying the, eh, collapsible pocketwrench, hm?”

Jayce finally laughs, sitting on the edge of a workbench and shaking his head. “No, I guess not.” He sighs. “I just…thought we’d moved past it all. I thought it was over. I wanted it to be over, but she’s stuck in the past.”

“She misses you,” Viktor says. “You see her once a week. You used to live in her home. I cannot imagine she has adjusted so well.”

“No. She hasn’t. And I think she’s…angry that I’m. Happy.”

“You deserve to be. You have been through enough.”

Jayce shakes his head. “Maybe. I think I understand why she feels that way.” He stands. “I just need an hour down here. Some of these parts need to get done so we can start testing this week.”

“Of course.” Viktor turns to go back upstairs. “Oh, before I forget, since I do not want to run afoul of your temper again—” Jayce fixes Viktor with a look. “I told Ekko you would be able to show him how to use the forge. They want to use the shop for their project.”

“What? Why? They have perfectly good workshops at home.”

“I said the same thing. But I drew the line at the forge. Ekko will ask you.”

Jayce sighs. “Alright. Thank you, I think.” He picks up a hammer and turns back to his work.

Most nights of the week, they wind up in the Last Drop. It’s packed this evening, but Jayce muscles through and gets a table before coming back with beers.

“I was thinking,” Viktor says.

“Should I clear the area?”

“Very funny.” He leans forward. “Even if the council reversed its decision, allowed you back in Piltover, you wouldn’t necessarily have to return.”

“She wants me reinstated as the head of House Talis.” Jayce hesitates before taking a drink. “Apparently my uncle died a few days ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Jayce shakes his head. “We weren’t close, even before I left. He never approved of my parents’ marriage, or my father making me his heir. All of it was legally binding, the exile didn’t change that. Now that he’s dead, one of his children could take over, but my mother said they seem…disinterested.”

“Could you not manage House Talis affairs from Zaun?”

“I don’t want to manage my house, Viktor. I don’t care, it’s not—”

Behind them, the jukebox stops playing, with a very audible burst of noise. Viktor winces, watching Silco walk over to it and give it a few experimental kicks.

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Vander calls from the bar. “But we’ve got our resident repairmen on site, don’t we boys?”

Jayce lifts his drink. “Sure do!” he answers. “Viktor you’ve got—”

“Please.” Viktor sets his tools on the table. He’d brought a few projects to work on anyway, if Jayce wound up distracted for the evening. They both manage to get the jukebox away from the wall, crouching behind it and poking at a few things.

“This is on its last leg,” Viktor says. “It may be time for another.”

Silco frowns, hands planted on either hip as he watches them. “If you could just repair this one, and we’ll take it under consideration.”

Vander sighs. “What he means is—this one is important. I’d like to keep it around for as long as we can.”

Jayce taps the battery. “Viktor could build you a better one,” he says. “If you were willing to live without it for a few days.”

Viktor looks up quickly. “I’m not sure—”

“If it means this one sticks around, take whatever you’d like,” Vander says.

“And we’ll pay whatever you’d like as well,” Silco adds.

Jayce nods. “I’ll work it up.” He carefully removes the battery from the back and puts it in the box of tools. “It’ll be good as new.”

Viktor sighs, quickly closing up the panel and letting Jayce get the jukebox back against the wall. Vander is already gathering a few people to play music on stage to fill the silence, and after a few moments, no one even remembers what happened.

“You should not have said that,” Viktor mutters, sitting back down.

“Why? You can fix it.”

“Yes, well, you could have asked.”

“Like you asked about changing our schematics.”

Viktor points. “That’s different and you know it, Jayce.”

“Come off it, V. You’re a genius. It wouldn’t kill you to let people know sometimes.”

Viktor shakes his head and uses his cane to push himself to his feet. “I’m going home.”

Jayce lifts his hands in defeat. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Viktor hesitates, then nods, squeezing past a few dancers and stepping outside.

“Here.”

Jayce sets two coffees on the shop counter.

Viktor looks up. “What’s this?”

Jayce sighs. “I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

Viktor puts down his pen. “I should not have left. I’m sorry, too.”

“So we’re good?” Jayce asks.

Viktor nods. “We’re good.”

They linger there and talk about the day. Deliveries to be made, house calls. Viktor tends to stay in the shop as Jayce is more mobile, but that’s only at his insistence. Viktor knows his leg hurts more than he’ll let on — he wears a brace a few times a week to get through the longer days. Viktor has suggested more than once they hire someone.

“I’m alright today,” Jayce says. “I feel good. I’ll make the runs down to the mines and drop off the new tools.”

“I will begin working on this,” Viktor says, tapping the battery from the Last Drop’s jukebox.

“Look, you don’t have to—”

“No, you’re right. I can fix it.” He catches Jayce’s grin and rolls his eyes. “No need to be smug about it.”

Jayce laughs. “Let me know if you need a second pair of hands,” he says, putting one of his on Viktor’s shoulder.

(It lingers. It always lingers.)

“Perhaps one of the boys would help you with deliveries,” Viktor suggests quietly.

Jayce pulls his hand back. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you insist.”

Behind him, Jayce sighs. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Viktor waits until Jayce has gone to take a sip of his coffee, getting up to prop open the door of the shop. The cool air and sound of the morning markets filter in while he puts on a record. He steps out for a moment to buy breakfast and returns to sit at the counter, fiddling with a few orders for the first hour or so.

Viktor looks at the battery. He could certainly make it better, they have the parts — but more than once one of these has blown up in his face. If he breaks this one, Vander and Silco might have his head.

Well. Not really. But Viktor would rather not risk it.

He ducks into the back to dig through some boxes — he fixed a battery similar to this recently, albeit not as complex or important, but he has everything he needs to do it here. Someone rings the desk bell a few times in front while Viktor is digging around in one of his crates.

“Just a moment!” he calls, before triumphantly freeing a handful of cathodes. “Aha!” He closes the box and gets to his feet. “Good morning,” he says — to an empty shop. “Eh, hello?”

“Oh! Down here!”

Viktor leans over the counter and finds a yordle standing in front of him. Not just any yordle either, but —

“Professor Heimerdinger,” Viktor says.

“Ah, so you know me!”

“...Yes.” Viktor puts down the cathodes. “How may I help you today, sir?”

“I’m looking for Jayce Talis,” Heimerdinger says. “I was told he works here.”

“He does, but he’s on a delivery right now. He should be back within the hour.”

“Excellent! I’ll just wait then, hm?”

Viktor hesitates, then nods. “Of course.”

“Please, carry on! You won’t even know I’m here.”

Viktor doubts that, but he sighs and sits on his stool again, pulling the battery closer to inspect the damage. If he can adjust the flow of power, cause less waste, he’ll improve the efficiency —

“What a lovely little shop you have here. Been in business long?”

Viktor’s hand twitches over his toolkit. “Seven years,” he says, remembering what Jayce said the night before. They opened the shop nearly a year to the date after Jayce arrived in Zaun. With a jolt, he realizes the anniversary is coming up. Soon.

“How wonderful. It’s good to see Jayce has really been able to make himself a life here.”

Viktor doesn’t say what he wants to say. He only nods and goes back to working on the battery. Heimerdinger does a slow walk around the room, inspecting the shelves.

A few people come in and buy some things. Viktor sells the music box to one of his neighbors looking for an anniversary gift, and the electrician a few doors down buys some of the copper wire Jayce makes every month.

“Do you think it will be much—”

“Isha! Isha, don’t run!” Viktor looks up as a mother chases her child into the shop, panting at the door. She manages a smile. “I’m—I’m very sorry. We’re just—”

Isha climbs onto the footstool and drops a box onto the counter.

“Oh.” Viktor pokes at it. “What is this, hm?”

Isha’s mother sighs. “It’s a very nice present we bought at last year’s Progress Day.”

“Mm, I see.” Viktor went last year with other shopkeepers, but only at Jayce’s insistence. He brought him back marzipan and black tea. Inside the box is a mechanical frog, pale green with gold gears and a beautiful winding mechanism. Viktor tries to get it to jump, but nothing happens. “Would you like this repaired?” he asks.

Isha nods.

“Very well.” He pushes aside his battery project and sets the frog on the center of the counter, taking his glasses from a drawer. He adjusts the lenses until he can see inside the toy, spotting a busted up gear. “Ah. An easy fix. Just a moment.”

Isha watches as Viktor pops open the frog and begins dismantling it. She makes a noise, looking over her shoulder at her mother, who puts a calming hand on top of her head.

“Viktor is a repairman. He’ll put it all back.”

Viktor glances up. He thinks he recognizes Isha’s mother from his childhood. Perhaps they were in school together. She gives him a kind smile.

“It will be good as new,” he promises. The wall behind him is covered with hooks holding different gears and other little parts. Jayce finds his organizational system a little chaotic, but Viktor knows where everything is. He reaches for the right gear, in the right color, and begins putting it back together.

A few moments later, the frog leaps again.

Isha leaps after it.

“Wait, Isha!” Her mother sighs. “How much?”

“Nothing,” Viktor says.

“Oh, you can’t—”

“I can.” He waves her off. “Go on, it’s fine.”

Isha’s mother nods. “Thank you. I won’t forget it.”

Viktor smiles and takes off his glasses, focusing on the battery again.

“...That was very kind of you,” Heimedinger says.

Viktor shrugs. “There is no charge for repairing toys.” He fiddles with the battery for another moment, then sighs. “You do not remember me. Do you?”

Heimerdinger fumbles a small, dancing figurine. He places it carefully back on the shelf. “Ah, I don’t believe so.” He looks sheepish.

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to.” Viktor pries a few old parts out of the battery. Jayce will be annoyed he isn’t using gloves. “I interviewed to be your assistant, several years ago.”

Heimerdinger steps closer. “Did you? Well, I…I’m terribly sorry. I meet so many people.”

“I’m sure you do.”

The shop grows quiet. After a few minutes, Heimerdinger says carefully, “I’m sure you would have been a wonderful assistant, Viktor.”

Viktor nods. “I would have been a great many things, professor, if given the chance.”

Heimerdinger opens his mouth, just as the backdoor to the shop opens. Jayce is muttering to himself, and Viktor can see him clearly in his mind, picking up things in the back and putting down whatever he was given to fix while he was out.

“Got you something!” he calls out.

“Out here.”

“Baker’s still grateful about the oven,” Jayce says, pushing through the curtain. “She made those cookies you like. Do you want—” Jayce stops. “...Professor.”

Heimerdinger smiles. “Hello, Jayce. Oh, look at you! You look…local!”

Jayce smiles. “I, uh. I’m about as local as I can get now.” He looks down at his dark green shirt and vest, the maroon tie he wears that he pretends has nothing to do with his old house.

He always says Viktor wears too much gray.

“I thought we might have a spot of tea,” Heimerdinger says. “I saw a cafe on my way in, is that a good spot?”

“Very,” Viktor says.

“Oh, good! Would you care to join us?”

“Eh, I don’t—”

“You should,” Jayce says, stepping closer. A silent, please.

“I…yes. Alright.” Viktor stands and takes the keys from their spot on the wall. “Shall we?”

“Of course! The sooner the better,” Heimerdinger says.

“We’ll meet you out front,” Jayce says, standing between Viktor and the door.

“Jayce—”

“I don’t know what he wants,” Jayce says quietly. “He’s the head of the council, and I—” He puts both hands on Viktor’s shoulders, looking into his eyes.

His hair still needs trimming, his beard, too. The heat of him is nearly unbearable on Viktor’s skin, even with layers between them.

(Sometimes, Viktor remembers Jayce’s skin, the taste of it under his tongue, salt and ash and soap. He remembers every second in that shower, the way he wanted Jayce to have him, to press him against the wall and swallow him whole. Viktor remembers the way he kissed, like a forge fire and a storm, and he chokes a little on the memory and then buries it because Jayce is his best friend and Jayce is his partner and Jayce is the keystone for all of this — )

He touches Jayce’s arm. “Everything will be alright,” he says, even though he doesn’t know that, even though he can’t make that promise.

Jayce nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“I do remember the academic squabbles you would get into all those years ago.” Heimerdinger dunks a cookie into his tea. “Never afraid to challenge someone when you thought they were wrong.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Viktor says quietly.

“You be quiet.” Jayce kicks him gently under the table. “Your classes were always a challenge, professor.”

“I should hope so!” He sighs. “I do miss those days. Things seemed less…complicated. I teach nearly as much as I’d like.”

“Viktor is a teacher,” Jayce says.

“Really?”

“Eh, I used to be.” He shakes his head. “Not anymore. Zaun’s education system is more…administrative, now.”

“Viktor’s curriculum was brilliant, they just couldn’t see that. He’s a genius engineer.”

Viktor kicks Jayce back, hard.

Heimerdinger smiles. “It’s a pity you didn’t apply to the academy!”

“I did,” Viktor says flatly. “Three times.”

“...Oh. Well. I’m—”

“Professor, I’m sure there’s a reason you came here,” Jayce says, rescuing them both.

“Hm? Oh, yes!” He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper. “As you know, the Distinguished Innovators Competition is in a month. All the participants submitted their final project details this week. This one came in just under the wire, no one knows that but me. I wouldn’t have given it a second look, really, before passing it to the committee, but I noticed something I thought I might discuss with you first, Jayce.” He hands over the paper.

Jayce unfolds it, reading it over before his brow furrows. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What—”

“Here.” He hands it over.

“It’s not a problem, really. I’m sure we can work something out! But changes to this document can really no longer be made, so we must find a solution soon.”

Viktor reviews the form — Powder and Ekko’s final submission. Nothing about it seems strange until —

“Sponsored by…House Talis?”

“I cannot believe them.”

“So you are…not sponsoring this pair?” Heimerdinger asks.

“I—no! Why would I have told them to write that? I can’t set foot in Piltover!”

“Well, I thought perhaps you might already have a representative lined up,” Heimerdinger suggests.

“I don’t. Can we change this? They don’t need a sponsor.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late,” Heimerdinger says, taking the paper back. “You’ll have to work out someone to represent you. Perhaps a cousin—”

“No.”

“Well, I can ask around…”

Jayce runs a hand through his hair. “What about you, sir? You’re not a judge.”

“I’m not, but I’m the dean of the academy! I reviewed the applications, it might be seen as favoritism.”

Viktor huffs. “As if academy students and employees are not favored to win this competition each year regardless.”

Heimerdinger frowns. “All participants are judged fairly.”

“Of course, but those with academy coin and resources enter with a stronger foundation, better support, more opportunities.” Viktor lifts his cup. “I don’t really consider that fair.”

Jayce twitches. “Viktor—”

“No, no. He makes an excellent point. We haven’t had many teams from Zaun in the past, but the last handful of years have seen an uptick. I believe there are at least four or five now.” Heimerdinger sighs. “I understand your point, Viktor. Truly. But my hands are tied as far as judging is concerned. Any one who wins does so on their own merit.”

Viktor leans forward. “I believe we may have two different understandings of what that means, professor.”

“Enough,” Jayce says. “Look, if I need to find someone to represent my house, I will. I…appreciate you telling me, sir.”

“Of course.” Heimerdinger continues to watch Viktor with some level of fascination. “I, eh, I think you’ll sort it, Jayce. And I’m very much looking forward to what these two cook up! If they felt comfortable enough to list you as a sponsor, you must know them quite well.”

“They’re smart kids,” Jayce admits. “Usually.”

“Ah, well, youth begets foolishness, but that isn’t always a bad thing.” He finishes his tea and sighs. “Well, I should be off. Ah, here—” He pulls out a few coins for the bill. “I’m terribly sorry for complicating your life any further, Jayce. If I can help in any way…”

“It’s fine, professor. Really. It was good to see you.”

Heimerdinger smiles, turning to Viktor and extending a hand. “It was most wonderful to meet you again, Viktor. I do hope our paths cross in the future.”

“I…of course. Thank you.”

They sit at their table and watch him go, waiting until he’s vanished into the crowd.

Jayce gets up. “I’m gonna kill those kids.”

The happy see only happiness,
the living see only life,
the young see only the young.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Jayce hasn’t been this mad about something in years. Not since he found out a shop in Piltover, where Viktor had done days of work, was shorting them so much coin he nearly violated his ruling to get it back.

Silco had taken care of that. Jayce hadn’t asked a lot of questions.

“No one from Zaun ever wins,” Ekko says. He stands up from his seat to go toe to toe with Jayce, the way he always has. “I asked for help. You were the one who said no.”

“You asked me to join your team, and I made it clear why I couldn’t. Don’t act like I’ve left you hung out to dry on this one. Viktor promised you our shop, and the second you want to learn to use that forge, my time is yours. But my name? That is not on the table.”

“Jayce.” Viktor appears at his side. “Go easy on them, hm? And, eh, maybe take it down a notch.” He glances around the Last Drop. Vander and Silco have been watching, amused, since Jayce and Viktor walked in.

“They put my house name on the paperwork. A name that doesn’t mean anything in that city anymore.”

“Well, regardless, according to the professor, we need to find some solution.” He hands Jayce a drink.

“The solution is they invent time travel, go back, and fix this,” Jayce snaps, pulling up two chairs for them both and sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Ekko sits. “We didn’t know you had to be there,” he says. “Honest. We just thought—”

“You thought it might give you a leg up in a competition no one from Zaun has ever won before.” Jayce pinches the bridge of his nose. “I get it.”

Powder sighs. “Jayce, we’re sorry. If we could take it back we would.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m…sorry for blowing up. It’s just…everyone up there knows what I did. The name I tried to build for my family doesn’t mean anything these days. I don’t want anyone to treat you like you don’t belong, for any reason.” He sighs. “You’re so smart. Both of you. I’ve seen your designs for the energy circuit. I know you’ve got a fighting chance.”

Ekko looks between them all. “...So what do we do?”

“We find someone to represent House Talis,” Jayce says. “Which I can’t ask just anyone to do, I have no idea what they’d be walking into—”

“Viktor!” Powder sits up straight. “Viktor should do it.”

“No.” Jayce says.

Ekko shrugs. “Why not? No one knows you better.”

That is, unfortunately, incredibly true. Jayce’s entire life in Zaun has been defined by Viktor’s presence in it. Viktor’s seen him at his worst, seen him sick, seen him in pain, seen him —

“I could,” Viktor says quietly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Jayce turns to him. “Viktor, I can’t—”

“Jayce.” Viktor angles toward him and smiles. “No offense, but…it’s not for you.” He gestures toward Powder and Ekko. “It’s for them.”

Not for the first time, Jayce is aware of all the ways Viktor has grown into his life. Like a vine that doesn’t need sun or water, climbing his walls in spite of everything. Viktor is wrapped around every part of him now. They share a home, a business, food, drinks —

And now, his name.

“Jayce?”

He scrubs a hand over his face and downs half his beer in one go. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll make it work.”

Every Thursday, Jayce takes his mother to a cafe just inside the border of Zaun. It’s been a tradition for six years now, since she finally came to terms with Jayce’s exile.

To an extent. Her continued efforts to exonerate him make Jayce think she really isn’t over it yet.

“I have asked your father’s old lawyer to draft my plea. He is a good man, he’ll speak fairly about your case.”

“Do we have to talk about this again?” Jayce asks.

She frowns. “It’s happening, Jayce. I will see you return home.”

He isn’t sure how many times he can tell her this is his home. This is the place where he’s finally built something, where he has a life he thinks is worth living.

He isn’t sure how to tell her that without breaking her heart.

“Can I at least read over everything before you speak to the council?” If you’re allowed.

“Of course.” She leans back as the server brings their food — soup of the day for his mother, a sandwich for Jayce. “How is your work?” Ximena Talis is nothing if not thoughtful. She always asks after Viktor and the shop.

“Work is good,” he says. “Viktor’s going into Piltover tomorrow to meet with some of our regulars. I’m showing Ekko how to use the forge.”

“How is their project? For the competition.”

“Seems to be coming along. Had a few hiccups, but otherwise it’s fine.” Jayce picks up one half of his sandwich. “There was one…issue, but we resolved it.” He clears his throat. “Viktor will be representing the family at the competition.”

Ximena’s spoon scrapes the bottom of her bowl. “...What do you mean?”

“Powder and Ekko made House Talis their sponsor. It was a bit of a surprise, but we have to commit now. I can’t be there, obviously, but someone has to. Viktor’s the only person I can send.”

“I could go.”

“They need someone to help them with their project, mom. You’re brilliant, but I don’t know what you could do.”

She nods. “Viktor has agreed to this then?”

“He has. It won’t be a problem.”

“I’m not sure that’s up to you to decide, Jayce. But it hardly matters. There is no one left besides myself to oppose you. You are still part of this house and you may make decisions regarding it as you see fit.”

“You’re mad.”

“I am bewildered, Jayce. As I often am by your choices.”

He scowls. “Can you just be happy for me? Haven’t I done the best with what I have? My life could have turned out a lot different after that trial. I could be rotting in a cell, or exiled a thousand miles away. I could be dead—”

“I am aware,” she snaps. Jayce’s jaw clamps shut. “I do not need you to lecture me on all the ways your life could have ended. You wound me, Jayce. I tell you I want to exonerate you and you are flippant and disdainful.”

“I never asked you to.”

“Perhaps, this time, it is not about what you want.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I miss you, Jayce! I want you to come home.” She puts a trembling hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut.

People are staring.

Jayce waits a moment before he reaches out and covers her other hand with his own. He doesn’t remember it being so…small.

“Mamá.” He turns her hand over, holding it in his and stroking her palm. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I…I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I never meant for…any of this to happen. I never—”

I never meant to leave you behind.

She finally looks at him, lips curled in a familiar smile. He does miss seeing it. He does miss her.

“I know,” she says. “And I don’t mean to diminish your joy. You are close. I can see you, and know you are alive. I should be grateful, but I…I cannot help—”

For most of his life, Jayce thought the need for more was a Talis trait. Something taught to him by his father, who died wanting things he could not have, seeking the praise he felt was owed.

But, perhaps, wanting was maternal.

He doesn’t want her to exonerate him, to make another plea to the council. She will only wind up broken and disappointed.

But he can’t say no to her, no matter how hard he tries.

Viktor goes into Piltover twice a month to check on their contracts at the edge of the city. Jayce minds the front of the shop, chatting happily with customers and regulars, taking people in the back to look at things they’re working on, showing off the tools and supplies to industry folks. It was the most surprising part about all of this — that buying the shop and putting themselves out there would make him part of the community, too.

And it’s what Piltover misunderstood about the people of Zaun for years — they treat their own as family, whether you were born to them or not. Jayce proved he could be trusted. He proved he could be there when they needed him. And so Zaun, without very much to offer, took him in, gave him a home, and made him kin.

In his heart, Jayce knows it’s more complicated than that. These things always are. But it’s what he’s felt, the last eight years. What he’s always felt.

Viktor returns with a cart laden down with gifts and purchases and work. It’s near closing time as he hauls it into the back of the shop. Jayce can hear Powder, too. Sometimes she goes along, to make sure Viktor doesn’t push himself too hard.

“Where do you want these?”

“Eh, just there. Jayce will know what to do with them.”

Jayce pushes through the curtain. “That’s quite a haul.”

Viktor sighs. “Yes, I know. Most of it is things I bought for the shop. And us. Well, that is a gift,” he says, pointing to the box of chocolates wrapped in a bright gold bow. “The laundress, Risa.”

“She knows you pretty well.”

“Actually, those are for you.” Viktor straightens and cracks his back with a wince. “She wanted to know if you were single.”

Jayce balks. “I, uh—”

“He’s actually not messing with you,” Powder says, putting away a few more boxes. “She fluttered her eyelashes and everything.”

“Yes, like—” Viktor gives Jayce a harrowingly flirtatious look.

Jayce drops the chocolates on the table. “I’m going back up front. You two have fun.”

“Aw, but we have liquor!” Powder lifts two bottles out of the cart and taps them together. “Wanna glass?”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

He sees Viktor quickly wrestle the bottles from her hands, muttering something in her ear. She glances at Jayce before the curtain closes behind him.

When they’ve finished, and Powder’s gone, Jayce locks up the shop and helps Viktor load the cart with things to take home.

“Don’t worry, I will eat the chocolates,” Viktor says.

Jayce pulls them out of his reach. “Like hell, those were a courting gift.”

“Tell me the last time you courted anyone, hm?”

“There were a few. Powder’s teacher liked me, when she was still in school.”

“Eh, that’s true. She was very funny, I remember. Pretty, too.”

Jayce shakes his head. A few people have caught his eye since he came to Zaun. None stayed longer than it took to warm his bed. And he’s turned a blind eye to Viktor’s occasional guest, blocked out the sound of his voice, the not-so gentle knocking of his headboard against the wall.

They never talk about that night. It’s been eight years and they don’t talk about it. It’s been eight years and Jayce cannot forget. It’s been eight years, and Jayce still wants —

Desire. A simmering curse that drifts down his mother’s bloodline.

He makes dinner. Viktor showers and puts plates on the table and they live this way — an approximation of their own potential.

“Tomorrow is your anniversary,” Viktor says.

“My what?”

“It is officially eight years since you came to Piltover. I checked.” He sets the bottles Powder showed off earlier on the table.

“Did you—”

“I bought these. One for tonight. And one we can open when it’s been ten years.”

Jayce picks up the bottle. “Viktor, this…this is expensive.”

“I know.” He keeps his gaze down. Viktor worries over money. All the time. It’s the facet of their partnership Jayce has left in his care — to fuss over the books and balance every ledger. They could be miles in the green and Viktor would still fret over every coin spent.

And today he spent…quite a bit of it on wine. For Jayce.

For a future they may not have.

“Forget it. It was stupid, I’ll take it back—”

“It’s not.” Jayce grabs the bottle before Viktor can run off with it. “It’s not. Let’s have some,” he says.

Viktor hesitates, then nods, taking two glasses from the cabinet. Jayce gives them both a heavy pour, and they sit at the table, the bottle between them, and drink.

“There.” Viktor turns on the jukebox. “Good as new.”

Silco runs his hand across it, taking a moment before he makes a selection. The record drops and starts to play.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Vander will pay you. I…need a moment.”

“Sure.” Jayce picks up Viktor’s tools and they sit at the bar.

Vander leans in. “Thanks,” he says, dropping a bag between them. “Drinks on the house tonight, hm?”

“Appreciate it.” Jayce tucks the coin into his pocket.

“Hope my daughter hasn’t been giving you any more trouble,” Vander says. He fills their glasses and passes them over.

“No, she’s fine. Ekko, too. I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m sorry—”

Vander lifts a hand. “I’m not upset. They did something they shouldn’t have, and they’re adults. Everything worked out in the end, it seems?” He glances at Viktor.

“Everything will be fine.” Jayce says.

“You think they can win?” Silco appears at Vander’s elbow.

Jayce nods. “We do.” He nudges Viktor. “Right?”

Viktor lifts his shoulder. “There is always a chance.”

Silco makes a noise. “I see. Well, it’s better than nothing, hm? We know Zaun doesn’t take the prize at these sorts of things.”

“They’re brilliant kids,” Jayce insists. “Everyone will see that.”

“They better,” Silco says, and walks away.

Vander sighs. “Don’t mind him,” he says. “Just in a bit of a mood today.” He wipes the bar in front of them. “Figured we might have a little party here, the night before the competition. What do you think?”

Jayce nods. “Sounds good to me.”

“I’ll expect to see both of you there,” Vander says, fixing Viktor with a look.

Viktor raises a brow and takes a drink.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Jayce says.

Once Vander’s left, Viktor kicks him. “You’re not going to make me come to a party and turn around and go to the competition the next day.”

“It’s for them, remember? You said it.”

Viktor huffs. “Fine.”

“There’s a few weeks left, I’m sure you’ll muster the motivation before then.”

“We’ll see.” He glances behind him. “...I’d like to go to the caves,” he says. “Before it gets dark. Will you come with me?”

“Now?”

“Yes. There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Jayce shrugs. “Alright.” He finishes his beer. Viktor puts on his coat and grabs his cane, leading Jayce out of the bar.

It’s a meandering walk to the caves from the Last Drop. Jayce follows with his hands in his pockets, quiet as Viktor guides them. Above, the sky is a splash of warm light as the sun sets behind a tower of clouds.

“You know there’s a very good chance they won’t win, Jayce.”

“You wanna tell them that? Or should I?”

Viktor shrugs. “I don't want them to be discouraged, but I’m worried about after.”

Jayce nods. “Sure. But maybe there’s a world where they do win, V.”

“...Perhaps.”

“You weren’t wrong the other day. Anyone with a patron or the academy backing them has a better chance. But no one enters the competition and isn’t brilliant. Heimer’s right. Everyone’s got a chance.”

Viktor kicks a rock down the road. They walk in silence a little further until he says quietly, “I used to have this…fantasy, I suppose. That I’d become Heimerdinger’s assistant and eventually he would see I was more than that. He’d listen to my ideas, support me, give me my own lab.” He laughs and shakes his head. “And maybe I would finally be someone. Someone important.” He stops at the usual spot and lets Jayce go first, taking his hand when it’s offered. The stone underfoot wobbles, pitching him forward into Jayce’s arms. Jayce quickly steadies him.

“You’re important to me.”

Viktor steps off the rock, pressing his cane in the soft ground and keeping a grip on Jayce’s hand.

“I know,” he says, and lets go. “Come on.”

“It’s getting dark, V.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Someday, Jayce will convince Viktor to have a modicum of self preservation, but he lets it go for now. He follows, gathering flowers for Rio as he goes, kicking at the algae on the walls to light the way.

“Just a bit further.”

“Further?” Jayce stops. “Viktor, you shouldn’t go any further than this. What if you fall? What if something happens—”

“Shh. You will disturb them.”

Jayce scowls. “Who?”

Viktor takes an unsteady knee and gives a little whistle.

“The children,” he says, as three waverider pups scuttle out of the dark.

Jayce jerks back, surprised at how quick they are. They gather at Viktor’s feet, making soft little sounds of joy.

“Look how much you’ve grown,” he says, smiling. “Mama is taking good care of you, yes?”

“...Mama?”

Viktor whistles again and Rio emerges after the pups, heading straight for Viktor and the flowers in his hands.

Jayce kneels. “Are these…hers?”

“Yes.” Viktor drops his hand to the head of a pale pink pup. The others are a beautiful dark blue. “I meant to tell you sooner, but we’ve been so busy.” Rio forces herself under Viktor’s arm, and he laughs. “Hey! I will pay attention to you, too. I’m showing off your little ones.”

Jayce stares in wonder. “I can’t believe it. I—” He sits, and one of the blue pups climbs into his lap, leaving water and goo all over his pants. “I remember what you told me, how you found her. What she went through.” Jayce watches Viktor run a hand over the scars on Rio’s neck. “She was supposed to die.”

Viktor turns to Jayce and smiles and it is more brilliant and beautiful than a thousand sunsets.

“So were we.”

The weeks leading up to the competition pass quickly. Jayce shows Ekko how to use the forge and he and Powder have another near-falling out, but the project gets done. Jayce had very little to do with it and he’s still relieved.

He stands in front of his wardrobe and thinks, for a moment, he’s forgotten how to dress himself.

The first thing Vander did when Jayce got here was burn his clothes. He took away Jayce’s cream and grey vest, gave him the dark greens and deep reds of his new home. Viktor leans a bit grey, but he’s wearing a dark blue jacket with gold trimming when Jayce comes out. He yanks at the tie around his neck and swears.

“Am I interrupting?”

Viktor waves him off. “I hate these things.”

“Here.” He holds out his hand. Viktor shoves the tie at him. “You’re a genius and you can’t figure this out?”

“It’s a waste of energy. Incredibly inefficient piece of clothing. What does it even do?”

“Looks nice? Stop wiggling—”

Viktor huffs and lets Jayce finish. “I suppose I will have to do this again tomorrow.”

“You should try to look nice, yes.”

“While I represent House Talis?”

“No.” Jayce runs a thumb over the center of the tie and tucks it into Viktor’s shirt. “Because it’s a big day for Powder and Ekko. You’re their sponsor, while you’re there. Gotta make a good impression.”

“I…yes. Of course.” He sighs. “I’m, eh. Nervous, I think.”

“Makes sense.”

“Every time I go to Piltover it’s just for work. No one even remembers me. But this…” He sighs. “Well, I’m sure Powder and Ekko will do so well no one even notices me.”

I would, Jayce thinks. I would notice you and remember you and I would never forget you, if I saw you for the first time. Dressed like this. Like anything. I—

“You look handsome,” Viktor says, and turns around, like he didn’t just wallop Jayce over the head with a fucking hammer.

The Last Drop is packed with people when they arrive, some of them drinking just outside the door, waving as Jayce and Viktor go inside.

“There he is!” Benzo practically plows into Jayce’s side, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I was just talkin’ about you. C’mere, c’mere—”

Jayce looks at Viktor, who waves him off and heads to the bar. Benzo pulls Jayce toward a group of his regulars, all nursing a beer and looking for a chance to slip outside for a smoke.

“Wouldn’t even know he was a Pilty from lookin’ at him, eh?”

Breea, one of the electricians who buys from the shop, lifts her glass toward him. “Zaun looks good on you, Jayce.”

“Yeah, it’s—” He spots Viktor just past her now, finding a table and setting down some drinks. “It’s home,” he says.

She follows his gaze and smirks. “Alright, give it a rest, Benzo. Talk to me instead, I wanna hear about this project your boy’s been working on.”

Benzo releases Jayce to talk about his favorite subject. The subject in question is hovering around the bar, probably looking for Powder. Jayce hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I got you something from the punch bowl,” Viktor says, pushing a blue glass across the table. He takes a long drink of his own and looks around. “This is nice, actually.”

“Vander and Silco know how to throw a party.”

“Mmhm.” Viktor gestures with his glass. “Did you see her handiwork?”

Jayce looks around — there’s a lot of balloons on the walls, a big metalwork and neon sign over the stage. It has Powder written all over it.

“Glad she puts that energy to good use,” Jayce says, just as every balloon in the place starts to explode around them. “Fuck—”

Viktor laughs, brushing confetti out of his hair as it rains down. The lights drop and the music from the stage gets louder as people start to dance.

“Wanna join ‘em?” Jayce asks.

Viktor rolls his eyes. “Hardly. I don’t dance, Jayce. You know this.”

Jayce smiles and looks back at the dance floor. Powder and Ekko only have eyes for each other. He hopes it’ll last. They deserve this love. This night. And they deserve to win tomorrow.

One song bleeds into the next. The people on the dance floor come and go as the party goes on. Jayce gets up for more drinks, spies Vander and Silco sharing a moment behind the bar.

“Hey.” A sharp finger jabs his side.

“Ow!” He turns and Powder steps back on one boot, gesturing for him to follow. “What?”

“Come on, dance with me.”

“Powder, be serious.”

“I am, this is a good one.”

Jayce looks around. It’s a fast beat and people aren’t dancing so much as shuffling to it, but Powder is wiggling her eyebrows, so Jayce puts down his cup and follows her onto the dance floor.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Sure am.” She does a turn that Jayce could not in a thousand years attempt without fucking his knee all over again, but he does catch her hand and give her a spin. “Okay, Pilty’s got moves.”

“It’s been eight years, I think you can drop the Pilty.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” She glances back at the table. Ekko’s taken Jayce’s seat, leaning in and talking to Viktor. “You know you’d be lost without him, right?”

“I’m more than aware.”

“And he’d probably be a little aimless without you.”

Jayce shrugs. “Not sure about that.”

“Trust me. Viktor needs you. You need each other.”

Jayce sighs. “Hey. Just, uh, keep an eye on him tomorrow, okay?”

Powder raises a brow. “Are you worried?”

“Feels a little like I’m sending him into the lion’s den.”

She shrugs. “I think he can handle himself. He’s Zaun,” she says. “We don’t take shit. Probably the first thing you learned, honestly.”

Had to, Jayce thinks. People thought they could push him around. Viktor always told him he’d win their respect by pushing back, so he did.

“Think I learned a lot of that from you guys, too.”

“Mostly Ekko. He was always trying to take you down a notch or two.”

Jayce laughs. “Yeah, well. He’s made of good stuff. And so are you. I’m proud of you guys, you know that? I wish I could be there tomorrow. Wish I could see you two show them how brilliant you are—”

Powder’s cheeks are already flushed, but Jayce sees a stripe of red race across her nose. “Thanks.”

The song ends. Powder steps back and catches her breath as they walk away from the dancers. She puts a hand on Jayce’s arm.

“You know you don’t have to keep punishing yourself, right? For Vi?”

Jayce flinches. Powder draws back.

“Powder—”

“I forgive you. I forgave you years ago. I can’t live chasing the ghost of her. I won’t. She was brave and brilliant and everything I wanted to be, but I—”

Vander always says he wants Powder to be more. Not for any reason but to please herself. To make herself happy.

Jayce steps closer. “Hey. You’re right, okay? I do. I punish myself and someday, maybe, I’m going to learn to stop.”

“Stop sooner,” she says, like it’s easy. Like it’s simple.

Hell. Maybe it is.

Jayce sighs. “I have a feeling tomorrow is going to change your life,” he says. “Don’t ask me how. I just know.”

Powder stands up straighter, preens a little. “Of course it will,” she says. “Because we’re gonna win.” She punches him in the arm, which hurts, but Jayce lets it go. “Go ask Viktor to dance,” she says.

And she leaves him there in her wake, rubbing his arm and processing her kindness and her pain. Jayce looks up to see Ekko leaving the table and Viktor staring at the spot where he was. There’s still confetti in his hair. Jayce swallows his pride and walks over to brush it out.

“Let’s dance,” he says.

Viktor looks up at him, loose strands of hair coming down around his ears. He looks into his cup, drains it, and pushes himself to his feet, resting his cane against the table. Jayce offers his arm, and he takes it, leaning heavy against him.

“I’ve got you,” Jayce says, as they work out where hands and arms and feet should go.

Viktor laughs. “I know you do.”

Behind them, something a little soft and slow comes on, a smooth voice cutting the tension between them.

“Feeling okay?” Jayce asks.

“Oh, yes. I think—” His tongue darts out against his lips, cherry-red from the punch. “I think the drink helps.”

Jayce nods. “Liquid courage.”

“I do not need courage to dance with you, Jayce. You need only ask.”

“I’ll remember that. If you’re willing. You said you didn’t dance.”

Viktor sighs. “As always, you tend to be the exception to most of my rules.”

“I wear the honor with pride.”

They both laugh, and Jayce chances a little turn, careful and slow. Viktor’s eyes go wide as Jayce pulls him flush with his chest, letting his hand on Viktor’s waist slip a bit lower.

“I, um—”

“We can stop,” Jayce says. “If you’d like.”

“N-no. I don’t—” He takes a breath. “I don’t want to stop.” His hand tightens around Jayce’s arm before he turns and rests his head on Jayce’s chest.

It’s a gentle sway, for the rest of the song. Jayce rests his chin on Viktor’s head and holds him close, closing his eyes and allowing himself this moment.

Powder is right. He would be lost without Viktor.

“Jayce?”

“Hm?”

Viktor draws back. “Do you…do you ever want—”

The song abruptly changes, startling them both. Viktor steps back onto his braced leg and winces, grabbing Jayce’s arm, hard.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry—”

Jayce steadies him. “No, it’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, I’m fine.”

“Here—” Jayce puts Viktor’s arm around his shoulders and helps him back to the table. “Do you need anything?”

“Eh, no.” Viktor rubs his leg and sighs. “But, perhaps we should go home, hm?”

Jayce straightens up, glancing across the bar to see Powder and Ekko watching them from another table.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

Jayce is awake before dawn. He showers and dresses for the day, waiting for Viktor to get up and do the same. There is a box on his bedside table that has been there for weeks, and today he finally picks it up and carries it out of his room.

Viktor emerges not long after, dressed in his usual soft grays, with a dark green vest over his collared shirt.

“Will this do?” he asks, pulling on his jacket.

“It’ll more than do,” Jayce says.

Viktor pulls his hair back, running a hand along his jaw. “I nearly cut myself shaving,” he mutters. “Like a boy.”

“It’s a big day.”

“I don’t want to ruin it for them. Everything…it must be perfect.”

Jayce steps closer. “It will, Viktor. You’ll be exactly what they need today, I know it.” He picks up the box, opening it and removing the house pin that has lived there for the past eight years. Jayce remembers the look on Vander’s face when he fought him for it.

It’s mine, he’d argued. I don’t care what you think it means.

You wear it around here now, you’re a dead man.

Same as when I got here. But it’s still mine.

Vander had told him to put it away, to forget about his house for now. It was good advice back then. Jayce couldn’t think of his family without shame, without fury. All that he’d worked for — gone.

And now —

“It looks heavy,” Viktor murmurs.

Jayce takes his hand and turns it over, dropping the pin into his palm. “Lighter than you might think.”

Viktor curls his fingers around it. “No,” he says. “I understand the weight of this.”

“Too much?”

He shakes his head. “I can handle it.”

Jayce nods, taking the pin from him again and untwisting the back. He slides two fingers under the lapel of Viktor’s jacket, looking for a good spot.

“I know,” he says. He takes the pin and pushes it through the fabric, until it slips through to the other side, grazing Jayce’s fingers.

Viktor’s breath catches, just loud enough for Jayce to hear. He picks up the back of the pin and secures it tight.

“There. You’re a Talis for the day.”

Viktor touches the pin. He smiles.

“I wear the honor with pride.”

Jayce laughs. “Well, the color looks good on you,” he says, without thinking.

Viktor goes still.

“I—I need to meet Powder and Ekko. Come with me?”

Jayce breathes. “Yeah. Of course.” He lets Viktor slip past him, steadying himself before he grabs his coat and follows him out the door.

It’s a long day of just…waiting. Jayce tries to work, but he can’t focus on anything important. He closes the shop and goes down to the forge, pushing through the hours, churning out orders, losing himself.

His mind wanders. To Viktor, wearing his colors, watching as Jayce pinned his house name to his chest.

(Viktor wrapped around him, standing under the shower, Viktor saying his name, Viktor bringing someone home, Viktor taking someone to bed, anyone who isn’t Jayce — )

“Jayce!”

He looks up. Viktor. Jayce grabs his shirt and pulls it on, shutting off the flame to the forge and running upstairs. What time is it?

“Jayce, are you here?”

“I’m here!” He bursts through the curtain to find Viktor standing in the open door of the shop, looking joyful. “Did they—”

“Second place. They took second place.” Viktor steps into the shop, crossing the room in a few quick steps and throwing his arms around Jayce.

Jayce laughs, embracing him. “Really?”

“Yes! Oh, Jayce, you should have seen them. They were brilliant, everyone wanted to meet them, to know their names, where they were from—” He presses his forehead to Jayce’s chest and laughs and laughs, clinging to him.

“And you?” Jayce puts a hand on Viktor’s jaw, tilting his face up. “You’re okay?”

Viktor grins. “I feel alive.” He grips Jayce’s hands. “We’re celebrating. Come.” He grabs his cane and pulls Jayce out of the shop, barely letting him lock the door. Everyone is at the Last Drop, gathered around Powder and Ekko’s second place trophy.

“Look at that,” Silco says, pulling Powder close and kissing her temple. “What a marvel.”

For all the joy in this room, Powder and Ekko look as if they’re only enduring it.

“We didn’t win,” she says. “We wanted to win.”

“You think second place isn’t good enough?” Vander asks.

“It’s fine.” Ekko touches the trophy. “It’s—it’s fine.”

Benzo laughs and pulls him in for a hug. “Couldn’t be prouder of you, boy. No one from Zaun has ever placed before, let alone gotten second! Tell him, Jayce!”

Jayce sits at the bar, pulling a stool out for Viktor. “It’s true.”

“Yeah, but we could have won. Some team with patron money took first,” Ekko says. “The way they always do.”

Viktor eases himself onto the stool. “This is true, yes. But every year some other team with patron money wins second place, too. And third. What you did today is unprecedented, and I am proud I was there to witness it.”

Vander’s been pouring drinks at the bar. He bangs an empty glass on the wood and shouts, “A round on the house!” before lifting his own cup. “To Powder and Ekko,” he says, and everyone lifts their drinks.

It’s the second party at the Last Drop in two days, but this time things are a bit more personal. Mylo and Claggor took an honorable mention, and get absolutely plastered within the first hour. Powder eventually gives in, forcing Ekko to pose for pictures with their trophy. Jayce finds him sulking at one of the tables later, dropping down into the chair across from him.

“Nice work,” he says. “Really.”

“All that time we spent, and it didn’t even matter.”

Jayce laughs. “What are you talking about? You did something no one else has done. You made something incredible!”

“And tomorrow no one will remember us.”

“That’s not true. Viktor said you turned a lot of heads.”

Ekko scowls. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Ekko. It does. You heard Benzo. You’re pioneers.”

“I didn’t want to be a fucking pioneer, Jayce. I wanted to win.”

Jayce sighs. He can’t hold Ekko’s anger against him. If it were him, he’d want that first prize, too. Jayce used to daydream about entering this competition, coming up with inventions he might bring, if he ever had the chance. What he’d say when he won.

“I guess you deserve to be a little disappointed,” he says. “You went in wanting something you didn’t get. Trust me, I understand.” He leans forward. “But I told Powder last night, I just…have a feeling about this. I think everything’s about to change.”

“How?”

“No clue. Just a feeling I have.”

Ekko gets up. “Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says, and walks away.

Jayce stays put. He’s a little drunk, actually, and being in a chair seems nice.

“There you are.”

Jayce looks up. “Viktor!”

Viktor smiles and takes Ekko’s spot. “I have something for you,” he says.

“I will take another drink if you’re offering.”

“Mm, I think it might be time for you to take a break, actually.” Viktor reaches into his pocket and pulls something free. “Give me your hand,” he says. Jayce holds it out, watching as Viktor rests a brown leather bracelet in his palm — the center of it holding a small blue stone.

Jayce looks up. “Where—”

“Heimerdinger gave it to me. He said he’s been meaning to return it to you, but time keeps…getting away from him, I suppose. It’s different, for yordles.”

Jayce swallows, picking up the bracelet and clasping it around his left wrist.

“...Why did he have this? They took everything from me, after the blast.”

Viktor nods. “It was the only thing that survived. He said destroying it felt like…destroying you, in a way. And he couldn’t bring himself to do that.”

Jayce curls his fingers around his wrist, stroking his thumb across the rune.

It feels like finding an old friend.

“And he gave this to you?”

Viktor nods. “Yes. We had a very spirited debate at the competition this morning.”

Jayce sighs. “You didn’t fight with him again, did you?”

“No, no, we were perfectly civil.” Viktor clears his throat. “He, eh, offered me a job, actually.”

Jayce stills. “...What?”

“Mmhm. A teaching position, at the academy. Just one course, and I would have to interview for it, obviously.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I would think about it.”

Jayce frowns. “Why? What’s there to think about?”

Viktor looks surprised. “...Us, Jayce. Our business, our lives. We did not spend the last seven years doing this just for me to throw it away on a possibility. And I never intended to teach in Piltover. The city made it quite clear to me I did not belong. I wanted to open an academy here.”

“Why did he offer you the job? What did he say?”

Viktor sighs. “He said…he said I was right. That academy students do better at the competition and they do better in business because they have the resources to be better. People still don’t know what we’re capable of here. Or at least, they pretend they don’t. He said I could make a difference at the academy.”

“He’s right,” Jayce says. “Viktor, you can’t let this slip through your hands. You know you’ll never get it back.”

“The same way my own dream is gone? For good?”

“You don’t know that—”

“It’s been seven years, Jayce, and we are no closer to having the money nor understanding of how to start such an endeavor. It was foolish for me to think I could ever do something like that here, just as it’s foolish of me to think the academy would ever allow me to teach within its walls.”

“Viktor, this is different.”

“Is it?” Viktor asks. “Because I do not have the greatest track record when it comes to being admitted or hired there. What is so different about me now?” He gets to his feet, reaching up to pry the Talis pin from his jacket. “Here.” He tosses it on the table. “I am going home. Stay as long as you’d like,” he says, and turns to go.

Jayce watches, reaching for the pin and tucking it into his pocket. At the bar, Powder and Ekko pose for another photo. In the light of the flash, he reaches out and pulls her close for a kiss.

“Here.”

Viktor looks up from the ledger. “What?”

Jayce pushes a piece of paper across the shop counter. “Take it.”

“I’m not in the mood for games, Jayce.” He closes the book. “What is this?”

Jayce leans against the counter. “It’s an ad. I’m hiring someone.”

“You did not consult me about this.”

“I know. I figured we can talk more about it after you get the job at the academy.” He moves past Viktor and into the back of the shop.

“I’m not getting the job at the academy,” Viktor calls after him. “So you can throw this away!”

“Already paid for it!” Jayce calls back. He waits a few moments and hears Viktor push aside the curtain. The ad, crumpled into a ball, hits him in the back of the head. Jayce turns around. “There’s no need for violence, Vik.”

“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?” Viktor asks, nearly flush with Jayce’s chest. “You cannot bully me into taking a job. It’s my decision.”

“I know. But I have a feeling you’re going to do the right thing.” Jayce sits on the edge of his workbench. “Heimer said you were right, and you want to teach. You’ve always wanted to teach.”

“I wanted to teach here.”

“Then maybe you need to start there.”

Viktor stares, finally taking a step back. He bends down and picks up the ad, unfolding it and setting it on the table. “...If I do this, and if it happens, things are going to change.”

“That’s okay.”

Viktor sighs. “I like our life,” he says. “I like what we’ve built together.”

Jayce puts a hand on his shoulder. “I do, too. But you deserve this. We’ll make it work, V. We always do.”

Viktor finally nods. He touches the corner of the ad. “This is kind,” he says. “You are kind.”

“I want you to be happy,” Jayce says. Above anything and everything, it is always what he’s wanted. “Our lives might change, but we don’t have to. We still work, Viktor. We work really well. And whatever happens, I know we can handle it. Together.”

Viktor looks at him.

This would be the perfect moment to kiss him. The perfect moment to tell him what he wants. The perfect moment to bring it all home.

“Alright.” Viktor steps back again. “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

“I hope you can get your money back for this, by the way.” Viktor taps the ad.

Jayce shakes his head. “Non-refundable.” He glances over. “Told them I wouldn’t need it.”

“You don’t know the future, Jayce. It could all be a waste of time.”

Jayce shrugs. “Maybe,” he says, “but I know one thing.”

“And what is that?”

He looks at Viktor. “I know you.”

Chapter Text

Each time, the found world surprises— that is its nature.

And then what is said by all lovers: “What fools we were, not to have seen.”
— from “Meeting the Light Completely” by Jane Hirshfield

Viktor wakes, and he is grateful for spring.

In the winter he was sick, bundled and coughing on the sofa, grading papers and dreading the walk to the trolley station each morning. The cold makes his joints ache, and each year he comes down with something worse than the year before. It lingers in his lungs, a reminder of a childhood spent breathing in the Undercity’s air.

But when the frost finally thaws and the flowers bud again, Viktor feels relief, warm and palpable, settle over him. There’s still a chill in the air — Viktor sits on the trolley in a scarf and hat, flipping through his notes, but it is, at least, tolerable. He gets off at the academy stop and tucks his books under his arm, heading inside.

When he accepted the teaching position two years ago, Viktor thought he would burn out after one semester. He expected the academy to be stuffy and restrictive, to turn its nose at him and find ways to shut him out. It wasn’t easy, of course. There were those who didn’t care for him, those who felt he didn’t belong — but Viktor found, once he’d proven what he could do, many of his colleagues had a great deal of respect for him. He sometimes recalls the warm feeling of…joy he felt when another professor waved him over and asked his opinion on some up and coming inventors.

“Oh,” he said. “I know them quite well.”

Powder and Ekko’s lives, in the months after the competition, had changed, just as Jayce promised. Viktor felt it that day. The way people came over and wrote down their names, took photos of them and asked questions.

An investor, looking to expand his portfolio, had offered up the coin for them to keep working on their device. Overnight, they went from outsiders to traveling Runeterra, sending Jayce and Viktor postcards from far off places.

Viktor keeps a few in his office, tacked to the wall with other things — a photo of himself and Jayce, the first day after they bought the shop; another of everyone at the Last Drop, celebrating Powder and Ekko’s first patent. A note from Jayce. From Powder.

A photo of Viktor and his mother.

He thinks she would have been proud.

Between days of teaching and grading, Viktor still works the shop, but he finds he spends less and less time behind the counter. Jayce’s ad brought on two new employees — a sharp gentleman with a mind for numbers, and a stocky young woman to help with deliveries. Viktor often arrives at the shop on a day off to find the two of them already doing the tasks he’d set aside for himself.

He’s been trying not to take it too personally. Adjusting to the change has been…difficult.

But he still has Jayce. They still live in their little house, still share their meals and bicker about work and theories. They still dance around a night that nearly happened, holding a decade of promise between them —

Viktor’s heart still…wants.

At least, he thinks, some things remain the same.

“Alright, deep breath in.” Viktor inhales. “And out.” He breathes into a mask hooked up to a machine taking a reading of his lung capacity. The doctor writes down a few numbers and nods. “Very nice.”

Viktor rubs his chest as the nurse pulls the mask from his face. “It doesn’t feel nice.”

“You’re still recovering, but these are great results.” He shows a graph to Viktor, who shrugs. “You’re basically back to a hundred percent. The breathing treatments you’ve been doing the last few years have worked, Viktor. This is excellent news.”

Viktor’s lung doctor is a young man from Zaun who keeps a clinic in both cities. Viktor sees him in Piltover usually, after his classes. It’s something he couldn’t have imagined when he was much younger, that one of the boys who played and scrapped in an Undercity alleyway would grow up and have council members as his patients.

He’d come highly recommended from Professor Heimerdinger.

“I’d like to see you again in a month,” he says, scribbling something down and handing it to his nurse. “Keep taking the medicine I gave you. Next winter we’ll try and get ahead of whatever’s coming, alright?”

“Thank you, doctor. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. Look, I deal with it, too. My mother does, my whole family. But a lot of people your age from Zaun are struggling with this. It’s good you’re here. You’re a stubborn bunch, for some reason.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“...I’ll see you in a month, Viktor.”

Viktor sighs and nods, thanking the young man before he leaves. He adjusts his crutch — new and improved, courtesy of Jayce the year before. The doctor he sees for his leg had suggested something with more support. He and Jayce had taken one look at the design and spent an evening dismantling it and drawing up plans for a new one. It was in his hands by the end of the week.

(Jayce can pretend all he likes he didn’t put it in his house colors, but Viktor wore his pin to the innovator’s competition, and he wasn’t born yesterday.)

Viktor leaves the lung doctor’s office and pulls on his scarf. He should get home, or at least head to the shop and see if he’s needed, but the line at the cocoa stand is shorter than usual, so Viktor quickly joins the queue. He’s about to pay when someone taps him on the shoulder —

“Viktor?”

He turns, catching a head of curly hair and gold framed glasses in his arms.

“...Sky?”

She pulls back, grinning madly. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you. Here!”

Viktor laughs. “Yes, it’s…strange, I’ll admit.” Someone behind her in line clears their throat. “Eh, what are you getting? Allow me.” She opens her mouth to argue, but Viktor holds up a hand. “Please. I insist.”

Sky orders and Viktor hands over the coin, leading them to a table and chairs to sit.

“Do you work in Piltover?” he asks.

“Work, live, everything.” She sips her tea. “I trained with an architect here for a few years. They finally started paying attention to my designs and gave me some projects.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.”

“And you?”

Viktor gestures to the academy behind her. “I teach, now. A few times a week.”

Sky glances over her shoulder and smiles. “That’s incredible, Viktor. Really.”

“Eh, it’s…” He sighs. “I had other dreams. I am grateful for the work I get to do now.”

Sky nods. “I understand. It took half a dozen tries for me to get into the academy. By the time I did, I was years older than everyone else, always felt like I didn’t belong…”

“But you stuck with it.” Viktor sighs. “You have more fortitude than I.”

“We’re stubborn,” she says. “I’m sure you haven’t been slouching. Tell me everything.”

Viktor looks at her. They were children together. Separate, then. Viktor was often alone, while Sky had a seemingly endless orbit of friends and admirers. She was beautiful then and she is beautiful now, her face awash in dark freckles, cheeks full and happy. Viktor catches sight of himself in the mirror on occasion and is…surprised by the person who looks back.

Someone alive. It is not what he expected. He wonders if she feels the same.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning, but only if you do the same.”

Sky nods, and they spend an hour, then another, trading stories and pasts. Sky had just come to Piltover when Jayce’s exile occurred, starting her first years of courses.

“I heard what happened. How funny, the way paths cross,” she says.

“You really don’t know the half of it.” He chuckles and finishes off his drink. “Ah, but I’ve taken enough of your time.”

“You haven’t,” she says, “but I do have places to be.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He embraces her again, letting her linger for a moment.

“You look well, Viktor.”

“Eh, it would seem you and my physicians agree.” She smiles and he touches her arm. “As do you, Sky. I’m happy to have seen you again.”

“Maybe we don’t let another twenty years go by,” she says. “Alright?”

“I think I can manage that,” Viktor says, and watches her go.

Every year on Violet’s birthday, Powder lights up the sky.

When she was younger, Viktor found her penchant for explosives a bit unsettling — he wasn’t sure most thirteen year olds should know how to use gunpowder so efficiently. But it was typically saved for big nights like this one, so Viktor has always been willing to consider the rather unhinged expression of glee she wears just before setting them off another endearing facet of her personality.

It still makes Jayce nervous.

“Oh good, you’re here,” he says, looking relieved as Viktor steps out of the lift and onto the roof of the Last Drop. “I was getting worried.”

“I highly doubt there will be a repeat of last year.”

“It was a big fire, Viktor.”

“She was testing a new compound! Can you fault a young woman for her experimentation?”

“I can when it sets my pants on fire.”

Viktor waves him off. “An unfortunate side effect. You were neither burned nor killed.” Viktor gets himself a drink from the punchbowl and sits down.

“Okay!” Powder bangs two pipes together. “Everyone can it!” Jayce drops into the chair next to Viktor as Powder turns to trigger the first charge.

The sky lights up with pinks and blues, the sudden burst sending a thrum through Viktor’s chest. He stares in wonder, the way he has since he was young, the first time the boys on his street came home with firecrackers stolen from some topsider stand. He’d held out his hand, hoping to catch some of the gold that sparkled in the alleyway above, disappointed when all he found was ash.

Is it magic? he’d asked Singed, taking one down into the caves.

Singed had taken it apart. No. It is science. You see here? Pointing out the powder and the ignitor, the chemicals that gave each one a distinctive color. A rare lesson Viktor remembers fondly.

He looks over at Jayce — and Jayce is looking at him.

“What?”

Jayce shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing.”

It’s never nothing, Viktor’s learned. Jayce’s mind is always racing, gears always turning. He takes a sip from his drink and Viktor is not watching how the muscles of his throat work and he isn’t thinking about how the fireworks illuminate his face and he isn’t wondering what Jayce is wondering because he thinks it might be dangerous to know.

Somewhere, inside of him, is a breaking point. Viktor believes he is rapidly approaching it.

They walk home after, slow in the dark.

“You didn’t tell me how the doctors went the other day,” Jayce says.

“Hm? Oh, it was fine. I’m doing much better, apparently.”

“You sound better. I was getting worried.” Jayce had come into Viktor’s room one night after a particularly terrible coughing fit, a rare intrusion. It had been…a relief, in truth. Suddenly Viktor had ginger tea and a bowl of warm water to breathe in the steam. He had another set of blankets and Jayce was taking his temperature, just to be sure.

“I ran into someone,” Viktor says after another moment of quiet. “A woman I grew up with. Sky.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. She’s an architect in the city now. We were in school together, for a time.”

“You don’t talk much about friends from back then.”

Viktor shakes his head. “I didn’t have many, really. Sky wasn’t…our lives were very separate. But it was good to see her. She seems quite happy. It’s…I could not have imagined it, when we were children. But, I suppose it is hard to imagine so far into the future when you’re so young.”

Jayce nods. “My father encouraged it. He’d always ask me, Jayce, where do you see yourself in five years? Ten years? Twenty, sometimes.”

“I think I would have liked to meet him,” Viktor says.

“He’d love you. He liked anyone who could keep up with him. It’s why he lost his temper sometimes. Didn’t have a lot of patience for his brother. My uncle wanted him to take his time, do things with intention. He felt like my dad was too rash. He married my mother too fast, adopted me too fast, pushed his patents too fast.”

Viktor raises a brow. “Perhaps that’s where it comes from, hm?”

Jayce laughs. “Yeah, probably. You had to be quick to keep up with my father. It’s why he loved my mother. She was always in step with him. They were…synced.”

“That’s…romantic.”

“I think so. It’s what I wanted, when I was younger. To be with someone I could…keep time with, in a way.” Jayce sighs as they stop in front of the house, digging out his keys. “Tonight was nice.”

“It was.”

“It’s good to see the kids happy.” He opens the door and follows Viktor inside. For a moment, they are thrown into darkness as the door clicks shut behind them. Jayce leans against Viktor while he searches for the light, pulling away as it spills across the room.

Viktor leans back, seeking his touch again, but he’s gone.

Out of sync. Out of time.

“Did you want tea or anything?” Jayce asks.

“Hm?” Viktor looks up as Jayce begins pulling off his coat. “Ah, no. I think I’ll clean up and go to bed. Goodnight, Jayce.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Viktor.”

Viktor teaches about machinery. The big parts and little pictures that make up the tools of their world. He likes this work — it keeps him busy and there is something about a fresh batch of students who don’t know what he’s going to show them that semester, or who have real questions he can answer. It makes him remember why he wanted to teach in the first place.

It isn’t his dream, but Jayce was right — if this had slipped by, Viktor would have regretted it.

Today’s lesson pulls heavily from the machines Viktor and Jayce have spent years fixing in the mines. He could draw some of these schematics in his sleep, so it’s nothing to pick up his chalk and scrawl them across the board, climbing his step stool and leaning on his crutch to reach the top.

“If you fall and break your neck, sir, we’ll remember you fondly!” someone calls from the back.

“Quiet, quiet—” Viktor finishes the last line and steps down with a wince. “Do not tell anyone I did that. I’ll be grading your midterms with this in mind.” A bit of laughter ripples through the room and Viktor turns to face the lecture hall. “Now. Tell me what is wrong with this. Tell me every design flaw you can see. Write it down, raise your hands, whatever. But just tell me what doesn’t work.”

They have a dozen critiques — too much weight on one side, the mechanism at the top doesn’t look like it could take more than a few years of wear and tear, how does it determine the maximum weight capacity if it’s carrying miners and their tools —

“Whoever designed this is, I don’t know, five years behind what we’re seeing now?” one of his students says. “If this is what the mines are still using, they’re in serious need of an upgrade.”

Viktor nods. “Precisely. This lift was designed six years ago, and was only recently decommissioned. Eh, the lights, please?” The room goes dark as Viktor turns on the projector and flashes the image of a new design on the board next to the old one. “This is what replaced it. Do you see your changes reflected here? What’s wrong with this one?”

There’s some murmuring among them before they begin making notes again. A fix here and there, but now there are other flaws they see, other issues they might address.

Viktor nods. “Wonderful. This is your project this month. To design a brand new lift for the mines and allow your peers the same freedom to critique it as I allowed you to do with my own designs today.”

The room goes quiet.

“...You designed those?” someone asks.

“I did.” Viktor turns off the projector. “Lights, please.” He looks up and sees their faces, stricken, amused, surprised — “Well, not alone. I had a partner.”

“You have machines actively in use in the mines, sir?”

“Of course.” Viktor glances at his watch. “We have two minutes left. Are there any questions?”

A dozen hands shoot into the air. Viktor smiles.

“Questions that are not about my work in Zaun?”

The hands slowly go down.

Viktor nods. “Right. Well, go on then. Dismissed. Enjoy your evening, all of you.”

The lecture hall slowly empties as Viktor begins cleaning the board.

“A very engaging lecture today, Viktor!”

He looks over his shoulder and laughs. “Thank you, professor.”

Heimerdinger smiles and trots down the steps of the hall, his little poro at his heels. “You couldn’t resist showing off your own designs, hm?”

“Eh. Jayce and I worked very hard on those. And they’re not perfect. I want them to get used to being critiqued. And I’m trying new things this year.”

“That’s good! It seems to be working. Your student reviews last semester were excellent.”

Viktor nods. “Thank you, sir.”

Heimerdinger sighs. “I used to teach in this room. I met your Jayce, right here. He sat in the second row.”

Viktor looks to where he points. It’s not hard to imagine Jayce, clean cut and young, his body hunched over the little tables and scribbling down his notes. He smiles.

“You seem to have fond memories here, professor.”

“I do.” Heimerdinger gave up his last class the semester before. There’s been chatter he might step down as dean, and other rumors he may leave the council. Viktor ignores them all. “Are you happy here, Viktor?”

Viktor begins packing his bag. “I am.”

“I know this isn’t the way you imagined becoming an academy professor.”

“It isn’t. But I enjoy the work.”

“Good. That’s good.” Heimerdinger clears his throat. “Viktor. I would like to formally offer you a full time position here at the academy.”

Viktor stops. The book in his hand slips from his fingers, landing on his foot. He swears and bends down to pick it up. “I…really?”

Heimerdinger nods. “Of course! The past two years have really been more of a trial period, as you know. Getting you used to things, seeing if it all works out. You’re an excellent instructor, and an asset to the academy! I want you to really give it your all.”

Viktor takes a steadying breath. “This is…quite the offer, sir.”

“I understand. But it’s the natural next step, I feel. I’ve had a good feeling about you since the moment I met you, Viktor. Knowing how badly you wanted to be here, how our paths almost crossed—”

“I do not want this work out of pity, sir.” Viktor closes his bag. “If that is your intention—”

“It’s not.” Heimerdinger’s voice hardens. Viktor stands up a bit straighter. “I would never do that to you. I respect you too much, Viktor.”

Viktor believes him. He really does.

“Well, I…thank you, sir. I apologize, I didn’t mean—”

Heimerdinger lifts his hand. “I understand. We all have our ways of surviving our circumstances. But this is not out of pity. You have proven yourself. And that work is being rewarded. Obviously, you will be paid more, receive more benefits, perhaps even housing here in the city—”

Viktor jolts a little. “I…that won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, it’s certainly not set in stone! You will be better compensated, however. And of course, there will be more responsibilities, but we can go over all this when we sign your new contract.”

“Contract—”

“Go home, think about it,” Heimer says. He makes a motion and his poro leaps into his arms. “If you like the way things are, they can always stay this way. There’s no shame in that. But I wouldn’t offer this to you if I didn’t think you were up to the challenge my boy.” He smiles. “Have a wonderful evening, Viktor.”

Viktor stares at the empty lecture hall before slumping into a chair.

“Fuck.”

“Jayce, I know a lot of things have changed, but I have to talk to you about something. No, that’s stupid. Maybe, Jayce, I was given a wonderful opportunity today, and I hope you’ll understand—” Viktor swears. “Stupid, again.” He hikes up his bag as he walks from the trolley station to the shop. He’s known Jayce for ten years. This should be easy. There’s no reason Jayce won’t support him, he’d wanted this for Viktor from the beginning.

Be in sync. Keep pace.

It’s after closing and the front of the shop is locked, but there’s smoke rising up from the smokestack. Jayce is in the forge.

Viktor unlocks the back door. He can hear the sound of metal on metal, the roar of the fire below as he shuts the door and descends the stairs.

It’s always a sight, when Jayce is at work. Heat swallows Viktor whole as he steps closer, trying to make as much noise as possible.

“Jayce.”

Another smack of the hammer onto metal. Jayce keeps his head down. “You’re here late.”

“I got held up topside.” Viktor sets his bag down. “I was going home, but I saw the smoke. Are you finishing up an order?”

“Nearly.” Jayce finally looks up. “I spoke to my mother today.”

“Oh? How is she?”

Jayce sighs, pulling the lever to reduce the swell of the forge’s flame. “She’s over the moon,” he says. “The council approved her request to retry my case.”

Viktor freezes. “...What?”

“I guess they finally looked everything over.”

“She submitted it more than a year ago. She’s been waiting for months.”

“I know.”

“But they—they can’t just—”

Jayce turns toward him. “They can do anything they’d like, Viktor.”

Panic floods him. All his concerns before seem pointless now. The idea of Jayce being gone from his life hits like a wildfire — nothing would be the same without him.

“We don’t know execution is a possibility. You’ve honored their sentencing.” He steps closer. “People would defend you. Ask anyone in Zaun, they would speak on your behalf.”

Jayce nods. “I know.”

“We could ask Vander, his reputation is good and he’s respected. Powder and Ekko would as well. And I—” Viktor takes a trembling breath. “I would speak for you, Jayce.”

Jayce’s expression hardens. “You would.”

“Of course. I would do anything you needed, whatever I—”

“What would you say?”

Viktor swallows thickly. It’s so hot here, even with the flames tempered, and the question feels enormous between them. “I—I would tell them everything you’ve done for this city. All the people you’ve helped, the things you’ve built. I would tell them about the mines and the shop.” He moves closer. “I would tell them how much you matter, to everyone.”

Jayce’s gaze is a grasping, piercing thing. Viktor is impaled on it, unable to escape.

“And I—I would tell them how…important you are.” He puts a hand over the blue web of scars on Jayce’s chest. “To me.”

There’s nothing but the sound of the forge now. Viktor feels like the world is going to open up beneath them and swallow them whole.

Perhaps it should.

At least they’d be together, in the abyss.

Viktor steps back. “Perhaps we should go home,” he says.

Jayce steps after him. “No. We shouldn’t.”

He yanks Viktor forward and kisses him, holding his face in his hands. Viktor moans, letting his crutch clatter to the stone floor and anchoring himself around Jayce’s neck. They kiss, for the first time in a decade, for the first time since that long, long night in the mines —

Shut up, Viktor had said, and let everything go.

Now —

“Tell me,” Jayce says, hefting Viktor off his feet and turning to drop him on a workbench. He shoves a few things to the side, a blueprint unrolling until it falls to the floor. “Tell me I’m important to you.”

“Y-you are. You’re so much, you’re—oh—” Viktor let his head drop back as Jayce bites his neck, then kisses it. “Do not mark me there, my students—”

“I don’t give a damn about your students.”

“Jayce—”

“All I want, all the time, Viktor—”

“I know, I know—” Viktor slides his hands down Jayce’s chest, trailing sweat and soot across his scars and stomach until he can unbutton his pants. Viktor is no stranger to want. Desire is a creature that sleeps in the corners of his room, watching. How many times has he taken himself in hand, remembering that day, listening to whoever Jayce had brought home some lonely night before?

“I’m so tired of pretending I don’t want you,” Jayce says. “It’s all I think about anymore, it’s all I ever—” Another kiss. Viktor hauls him closer, reaching in and curling his hands around Jayce’s cock.

“I won’t let them take you,” Viktor says. “They won’t have you, they can’t keep you from me.”

“Yours,” Jayce manages, words breaking on a cry as Viktor strokes him. “Y-you know I’m yours.”

Viktor feels how intoxicating that is, the savage way it whips at his heart. Mine, mine, mine — and his own self —

He presses his mouth against Jayce’s ear. “I’m yours. I always have been.”

Jayce makes a noise, pleading. He shoves Viktor’s coat off his shoulders, tossing it aside before he wrenches his shirt free of his waistband and slides a hand under to touch his chest. A few buttons fly off, rolling across the floor, lost forever. Jayce reaches in and undoes the buttons of Viktor’s pants, freeing his hardening cock. Viktor hisses as Jayce leans over, pressing their lengths together, wrapping his hand around them both. Viktor moans and winds his unbraced leg around Jayce’s waist, trying to keep him as close as possible.

“We—we should—” He gasps. “Home.”

“Here,” Jayce growls. “I’m not waiting another second.”

Viktor nods, kissing him again and swallowing Jayce's desperation to let it live with his own. “Yes.” He wants to be a mess. He wants Jayce to come and he wants to come and he wants to live here, in this sweltering heat and agony. His shirt comes completely free, exposing his shoulder to Jayce’s mouth and teeth. He bites again, and Viktor throws his head back with a shout.

“Jayce, Jayce—”

Jayce nods, setting a steady rhythm, thrusting his hips toward Viktor. He keeps one hand around both their cocks, the other holding Viktor steady. They’ll both be in pain tomorrow, but Viktor is so desperate for release, frantic to hold on, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

Nothing matters but this.

It’s Jayce who breaks first, coming onto Viktor’s chest, biting down on his shoulder again. Viktor cards his fingers through Jayce’s hair, murmuring gently.

“There you are, it’s alright.”

“Viktor—”

“I’m so close, Jayce—”

Jayce sinks to his knees, pulling Viktor towards the edge of the bench. He slides one hand up a clothed thigh, kissing the bend of Viktor’s knee.

“I want these wrapped around me later. I want to take you home and give you everything.” He kisses the brace on Viktor’s other leg. “But I can start here.”

“Wha—oh.” Viktor’s mouth falls open as Jayce drags a tongue up the length of his cock and gets his lips around the head. “Oh, Jayce.”

Viktor isn’t small, but Jayce is…talented. Sturdy. He takes Viktor’s cock with ease, hauling both Viktor’s legs over his shoulder and squeezing his thighs. Viktor desperately wants to be free of his trousers, his brace, everything that’s in the way, but there’s enough room that Jayce can suck his cock and he’s so close already, he can feel his release building and building. He grips Jayce’s hair in his hand and throws his head back, arching toward him with a cry.

“Jayce, I—”

Jayce doesn’t pull back and Viktor can’t push him away — he comes into Jayce’s mouth with a shout, gripping his hair between his fingers and trembling through his finish.

The roaring in his ears subsides, fading into the dull rush of the forge. Jayce is still on his knees, getting up with a wince.

“Your leg,” Viktor says. “Is it—”

“Fine. It’s fine.” Jayce’s old injury has only gotten worse over the years. “Probably should have braced it today.”

Viktor laughs, pulling him close for a kiss, licking the taste of himself from Jayce’s lips. “What are we going to do with you, hm?”

“I could do with some sleep, to be honest.”

Viktor nods, kissing his jaw, his cheek, his temple. “Help me up,” he says. “And we’ll go.”

After Jayce gets Viktor out of his braces, after they nearly knock a hole in the wall, after Viktor complains that Jayce has bruised his neck and ruined a perfectly good shirt — they crowd into their little shower, wash up, and crawl into Viktor’s bed.

“Fuck, my knee.” Jayce straightens it with a groan. “That’s gonna hurt tomorrow.”

“I’m very sorry.”

Jayce rolls over, throwing an arm over Viktor’s waist and pulling him close. “Don’t be.” He kisses him, and Viktor feels like he’s…breaking a rule. Like it’s something they shouldn’t be doing, after so long. Jayce tips his face up. “Hey. It’s alright.”

Viktor shakes his head. “I feel like we’ve just…wasted so much time. All this wanting. It was always you, Jayce. You were the one I—”

Another kiss. “You can’t do this. We’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to understand.” Jayce pulls him close, and Viktor wonders if they get close enough, maybe they won’t ever come apart.

“Nothing’s ever a waste, Vik. Not if you got something from it.”

Viktor wakes early, as he always does. Jayce is snoring softly beside him, still holding him, keeping Viktor pressed into the warm spaces of his body. When he moves, Jayce moves, making a soft noise and rolling over. Eventually, he senses Viktor is gone. He sits up, blinking into the dark of the room.

“What—” He yawns. “What are you doing up?”

“I have to get ready to go. I have classes today.”

“You had a class yesterday.”

“I’m teaching a lab this morning.”

Jayce nods. “Right.” He yawns again and lays down. “Can I make you tea or something?”

Viktor smiles, coming over and kissing his forehead. “If you would like. That would be nice.”

Jayce nods, getting out of bed with a groan while Viktor finishes getting ready. Jayce is mostly dressed when Viktor comes into the kitchen — shirtless, but Viktor won’t complain. Jayce’s arms are strong, his chest broad and sturdy, but his stomach has gotten a bit soft over the years and it was quite comfortable to lay on last night. He hands Viktor a cup of tea.

“Thank you. Will you be at the shop today?”

Jayce nods. “For a bit. I need to do something about this leg.” He puts some weight on it and groans. Two years before, he’d taken another fall on a delivery and injured his knee again. It was a manageable thing most days, but Jayce was always pushing himself, and Viktor knew the brace he’d built usually sat in Jayce’s room, lonely in the corner.

“Do not hurt yourself,” Viktor says. He spoons honey into his tea and takes a sweet bun from a bag on the counter.

“You weren’t concerned last night.”

Viktor flushes. “I asked.”

“You sure did,” Jayce says, lifting Viktor’s hand and kissing his knuckles.

Viktor sighs. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here I am.”

Viktor shakes his head. “I’m leaving, I will see you tonight.” He stands and leans forward to kiss Jayce’s forehead, interrupted only by Jayce grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for something a little more.

Viktor is going to be late for his lab, but it’s completely worth it.

It takes three days for Viktor to remember that Heimerdinger offered him a full time job. He’s laying in bed, listening to Jayce complain about someone who came into the shop when it hits him. He sits up.

“I have to tell you something,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

Jayce rolls onto his back, tucking an arm behind his head with a grin. “Okay. Tell me.”

“Heimerdinger offered me a new contract. Full time staff at the academy.”

Now Jayce sits up, angling himself toward Viktor. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“That’s…Viktor, that’s amazing. You said yes, right?”

“Eh—”

Jayce rolls his eyes. “Viktor.”

“We both agreed I should think on it! If I say no, nothing will change. I can continue on as I have, and all will be well. But this is…good, I think. More opportunities. It’s not what I wanted, ten years ago. But I think I’m making a difference.”

Jayce nods, gathering Viktor’s hands in his own and bringing them to his lips. “You are,” he says. “Believe me. What you’re doing matters.”

Viktor leans in, and Jayce tips forward, gently pressing their foreheads together. “I miss the shop,” Viktor admits. “I miss…spending the days with you.”

“You have threatened bodily harm against me several times in the last ten years, V.”

Viktor scowls and pulls back. “Yes, well, you are incredibly infuriating sometimes. Your workspace is a mess, you leave plates everywhere—”

“I’m a mess? You know how long it took us to figure out where anything is stored in that place? What system were you using?”

Viktor huffs. “One that worked. For years.”

Jayce laughs, pulling Viktor down with him and holding him close. “Now who’s impossible, hm?”

Viktor closes his eyes, burrowing closer. “And yet, here I am,” he murmurs.

Jayce sighs. “Yeah. Here you are.”

Heimerdinger is in a meeting when Viktor goes to accept the job. He sits awkwardly outside his office, fiddling with a loose button on his shirt until the door opens.

“—think that’s an excellent idea, councilor Medarda. We’ll most certainly discuss it at the next meeting.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” The councilor Medarda in question steps out of Heimerdinger’s office and stops. “You have another visitor,” she says.

“Hm? Oh! Viktor!” Heimerdinger scuttles around her and comes out to grab his hand. “Perfect timing. Viktor, this is councilor Mel Medarda. She’s quite interested in different projects and research we do at the university. Always on the lookout for the next great thing!”

Mel smiles as Viktor stands and tips his head toward her.

“Councilor. A pleasure.”

“This is your rising young star?” she asks.

“Oh, yes. Viktor has been quite well received by his students.”

“Eh, I don’t know if—”

“It’s a high compliment, coming from the dean.” Mel offers Viktor her hand, and he shakes it. “I’m honored to meet you. And quite interested in the work you and your students might produce.”

“Well, Viktor himself has already made several successful creations. He and his partner own a shop in Zaun—”

“Jayce Talis,” Mel says. Viktor stiffens. “He seemed quite determined, last I saw him. It’s unfortunate the only solution was exile. I’m glad he’s done well for himself.”

Viktor straightens. “Jayce has done more than that. Zaun is a better place for his presence there.”

Councilor Medarda holds up her hand. “I’m quite aware of his upcoming retrial,” she says. “You may save your defense for the council at large. Not that I don’t appreciate knowing this,” she adds. “I’ll keep it in mind. It was wonderful to meet you, Viktor. Good luck.” She gives him a smile and turns away.

Heimerdinger sighs. “Well, come in, my boy. I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve accepted my offer.”

Viktor sits in a soft leather armchair in front of Heimerdinger’s desk. “Yes,” he says. “I have.”

Heimerdinger beams. “Oh, that is wonderful news, Viktor. I’ll have your new contract drawn up at once. Now, we’ll need to discuss your compensation, and I have several courses I think would be an excellent fit for you—”

“One thing, professor.”

“Yes?”

“Jayce and I…living apart is not really an option. We…cohabitate. So I cannot take on a place here in the city.”

Heimerdinger nods. “I understand. But, if the retrial goes well, perhaps that may change?”

Viktor leans forward. “Do you believe there’s a chance?”

“I believe anything is possible, Viktor, but—” He sighs. “Please, don’t tell Jayce. In all honesty, it’s more likely the council will simply uphold its original decision. I can’t see why they’d make any drastic changes. But! If it takes a turn for the better, we will discuss your housing situation at that time. For now, let’s talk about salary.”

Viktor cringes, but nods, taking a pen and paper to write down numbers.

Viktor didn’t want it to be a big deal, but Jayce told Ekko, who told Powder, who told Silco, who let it slip to Vander and now there are a dozen people congratulating him at the Last Drop.

“I have friends who take your courses,” Claggor says. He’d started attending the academy the year before, looking at biology, possibly medicine. “They said you’re, uh. Intense.”

“Viktor? Psh.” Powder presses against his shoulder. “Never!”

“I’m not intense.” He looks at Jayce. “Am I intense?”

Jayce sighs. “This feels like a trick question,” he says, and kisses Viktor’s temple. “I’m going to get a drink.”

Mylo sighs. “Man, I just lost so much money.”

Viktor frowns. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, he was betting you guys would go another year,” Claggor says. “Before you finally got together.”

“I…you were taking bets?”

“Yep.” Powder sets a bag on the table. “I did pretty well, if I do say so myself.” She takes a few coins and tosses them to the boys. “Here, drinks on me, alright?”

“Can’t believe we’re still paying for booze in your bar,” Mylo mutters, getting to his feet.

Claggor laughs. “Don’t let Silco hear you say that,” he says and follows after him.

Viktor sighs and glances at Powder. “You look pleased with yourself.”

Powder takes Mylo’s spot and shrugs. “I was hoping you’d figure it out sooner. Ekko was more optimistic. He had his money on the night before the competition.” She takes out a few more coins, making a stack before knocking them over. “I’m happy for you, by the way. About the academy. I think it’s great.”

“It’s…something.”

“Really. Seeing you get that far? It’s…nice.”

“Well, you’re quite an inspiration you know. How was your trip?”

“Fine.” She knocks over the stack of coins again.

Viktor leans forward. “...Powder. Is everything alright?”

She looks at him, her expression more than a little unsteady. She grabs his hand suddenly and grips it tight.

“I need to talk to you,” she says. “I—”

“Okay, drinks all around.” Jayce and Ekko come back to the table, laden down with glasses. “And another toast, I think, to the professor.”

Viktor keeps his eyes on Powder, who shifts back into her calm and casual self, letting Ekko sit beside her and pull her close.

“To the professor!” he says, and raises his glass.

They have a few more drinks to celebrate, and it’s an easy and natural thing to lean into Jayce’s side as his body grows warm and pliant.

Before they go, Viktor pulls Powder aside.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says.

“I…can’t. I need to show you—”

“Then show me.”

“Not here,” she says. “Tomorrow—”

“I’ll be home. Come by whenever you’d like.”

She nods and twists free of his hold, disappearing into the crowd by the bar. Jayce puts a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks.

Viktor turns and looks back to find Powder, but she’s gone. He sighs and nods, following Jayce out the door.

Powder doesn’t come to the house until late in the afternoon. Viktor spots her through the kitchen window first, opening the door after three quick knocks.

“Is Jayce here?” she asks, moving past him.

“Eh, no. He will probably be home soon, though. Did you need to speak with him?”

“No, I—” Powder turns and paces in the living room, smoothing her shirt and chewing one of her nails. “I just can’t do it anymore. It was never supposed to go on this long and he was never supposed to be here.”

Viktor frowns. “Powder, what are you talking about? Sit down, please.”

“You have to understand.” She grabs Viktor’s sleeve. “I never meant to keep them. But every time I look at them I remember that day and something inside me feels like it’s going to—to explode, I just—”

“Powder.” Viktor manages to get her to the sofa, sitting beside her. “What is the matter?”

She takes a steadying breath and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small, drawstring bag. “We had no idea, when we went that day. Ekko thought Jayce was just some rich Pilty with too much time on his hands. He bought all this…crap from Benzo and we thought—” She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter what we thought. But everything happened so fast and I already had them. Vander wanted us out of sight and I just—”

She opens the bag and lets three, rough-cut blue crystals fall into her hand.

Viktor’s breath catches. “Oh, Powder.”

“I know.”

“Powder, these—”

“I know.”

Viktor tentatively reaches out and picks up one of the crystals. It doesn’t react, or even weigh very much. He runs a thumb across the rough surface, staring at the places where different edges meet. It’s…beautiful.

“You just have the three?” Powder nods. “This is…dangerous.” He puts the crystal back in her palm and quickly stands. “I must speak with Jayce.”

“I know, I just—”

“All of his research was destroyed, Powder. It’s the only reason he was exiled instead of executed. If the council finds out these exist—”

“So we’ll just destroy them! We can take them somewhere far away—”

“They could kill you!”

“You think I don’t know that?” she shouts, suddenly on her feet. She grips the crystals tight. Viktor takes a step back.

Sometimes she’s got a temper, Ekko said once. Like she’s about to blow, just beneath the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Viktor steps toward her again. He puts a hand on her shoulder. “It cannot have been easy, keeping these.”

“I don’t know why I did it. I think I always felt like…like I’d have a chance to tell someone. But it never felt like the right time, and Vander was always working so hard to keep us safe. I didn’t want to risk that, so I just…” She took a deep breath. “And then he showed up.” She looks down at the crystals again. “I knew I’d have to get rid of them, but I never knew what to say, what to do.”

Viktor nods. “We’ll figure it out, alright?” He tips her chin up. “Jayce will understand.”

He sends Powder home and waits for Jayce. The crystals sit in their bag on the table, and Viktor watches them.

Such little things, to cause so much trouble.

The door opens, and Jayce hums his way inside. “I brought home some things you were working on, figured you might want to finish them here.” Jayce steps into the kitchen. “Did you want to go somewhere for—”

Viktor looks up. Jayce’s brow is furrowed as he stares at the table.

“Why do you have those?”

Viktor looks back at the crystals. “Powder had them. She’s had them for years.”

“That’s not—those were supposed to be destroyed, in the blast.”

“Clearly, they were not.”

Jayce sits down with a heavy sigh, slumping forward and putting his face in his hands.

“...What do we do?” Viktor asks.

“We have to destroy them. That’s the only answer.”

Viktor leans forward. “Is it possible we could…take a closer look? Keep them? Maybe we could—”

“Absolutely not.” Jayce snaps. “They’re dangerous, Viktor.”

“This was your life’s work! You thought it was gone, but here it is! What if that means something, Jayce? What if we put our minds together and tried to make something of it, hm?”

“These crystals killed Violet. They nearly killed me, and Caitlyn. I have to get rid of them.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I should give them to Heimerdinger.”

Viktor balks. “What? No! If you tell him, he’ll have to give them to the council, you may not even get a retrial! They could just—just—”

“If anyone knows how to get rid of them safely, it’s Heimer.”

“What about some…abandoned building? Or the sea? We could—”

“We could cause a serious problem, Viktor. If they explode again and kill or hurt anyone, they’ll blame Zaun for it. If they find out Powder had them, she could be accused of plotting against Piltover. If I’m found with them they could kill me on the spot. We have to hand them over.”

“Well it doesn’t have to happen now. You could let them retry your case, let them see how much you’ve done, how needed you are.”

Jayce runs his hands through his hair, leaning forward on his elbows. He stares at the crystals.

“...I thought I wanted to give magic to the world,” he says quietly. “I used to dream about it. Now I just—” He reaches out and takes Viktor’s hand. “Let’s put these away.” He stands and takes the bag, leaning down to tip Viktor’s face up to kiss him. “And let’s go to bed.”

“It’s a bit early to—”

Jayce raises a brow.

“Oh. Oh, alright.” Viktor gets up and goes into his room, sitting down to get out of his leg brace. After a few moments, Jayce comes and stands in the doorway.

“We didn’t agree this was going to be our room,” he says.

“We haven’t agreed to anything.” Viktor looks up. “My bed is comfier.”

“Too soft.”

“For you.”

Jayce comes over and stands between Viktor’s knees, reaching down to take his chin in hand.

“That’s how it’s going to be, hm? You just tell me what to do?”

“It’s been working the last ten years, hasn’t it?”

Jayce laughs and lets Viktor pull him down, helping him crawl to the head of the bed. They kiss for a long while, until Jayce pushes Viktor’s shirt up and touches the edge of his back brace.

“Can I take this off?”

Viktor sits up and nods, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. Jayce’s hands are warm and quick, soothing the red lines on his chest with his fingers and lips. “Jayce.”

“I need you,” Jayce murmurs, surging up and kissing Viktor with more force than before.

“You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jayce cups his cheek. “Yeah. I know.”

They push each other like this for a half hour or more. Viktor holds Jayce close to the edge, feels himself balanced precariously there, too. There’s a frantic back and forth, a soft check in — Your leg? Your back? — from them both. Jayce gets a pillow under Viktor’s hips and teases him open. Viktor arches into his touch and moans, panting against Jayce’s mouth, desperate for anything and everything he can get.

“Fuck me,” he begs. “Jayce—”

“I’ve got you. I’m right here.” Jayce drives himself deeper.

It’s rough and aching and perfect. Viktor holds Jayce as close as he can, leaving marks in his skin and cradling his voice in his mouth and trying to take everything Jayce can give him all at once until they both find their release in the desperate, clawing dark.

In the moments between one breath and the next, as Viktor is falling asleep, as Jayce cleans him up and pulls him close, he hears it — three soft words, pressed to the nape of his neck.

And then everything is dark.

Viktor —

Don’t be mad. Please. This is what I have to do, to make this right. The crystals are my mistake, and so I have to be the one to fix this. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, I can’t know, but I’m taking everything to Heimerdinger and then I’m going to take responsibility for what I’ve done. Whatever comes, I’ll just have to accept it.

It’s not great timing, I know that. I wish more than anything I’d been braver with my heart and given it to you sooner, but you have to know — it’s always been yours, V. There’s never been anyone else but you. You saved me, ten years ago. You didn’t have to, but if there had to be someone, I’m glad it was you.

All the years I spent in Piltover, searching for magic, trying to achieve my dream, it felt like something was missing. It took a few years after leaving to realize — what was missing was you. No matter what we were doing, no matter what we did — my place was here. With you.

And I’m sorry to leave you.

Please don’t get involved. I’ve done enough and I can’t hurt anyone else. I know you’re going to read this and get angry and you’ll want to come and fix it yourself, but the last thing I want is for them to implicate you, too. So stay home.

Hopefully, I’ll be back soon.

Yours,

Jayce

The cell they put him in is actually a lot bigger than Jayce thought it might be. He sits along the wall, thunking his head against the stone and waiting for…anything.

Heimerdinger is the first.

“If you explain to me where these came from, Jayce, this trial will go much smoother.”

“They’re mine,” he says, for the fifth time.

Heimerdinger sighs. “Jayce, I don’t believe you.”

Jayce shrugs. “I’m not sure what to tell you, sir. I made them, I kept them.”

“Why are you handing them over now?”

“It’s been a long ten years. It just didn’t feel right.”

Heimerdinger steps closer. “Who had them, Jayce? Was it one of the children?”

“No.”

“Jayce, please.”

Jayce gets up and goes to the bars of his cell. “They’re my responsibility, sir. I accept the consequences.”

“The consequences could be death!” Heimerdinger bangs one small hand against the bars of the cell. Jayce steps back. “Why are you doing this to yourself? To Viktor?”

“...Viktor’s not involved. He had nothing to do with this.”

“Well, you had best hope the council doesn’t bring him up then.”

Jayce slams a hand against the bars. “You’re on the council, why would you—”

“I am not,” Heimerdinger says. “Not anymore. I resigned my position two days ago.”

Jayce blinks.

Well. Shit.

“Sir—”

“So if you came here with the hopes that I would somehow save you, then you will have to pray my testimony, if I am allowed to give it, will be enough, Jayce.”

“Who's the head of the council then?” Jayce asks.

Heimerdinger sighs.

“Cassandra Kirraman.”

When Jayce had been under the Kirramans’ patronage, they allowed Caitlyn to work as his assistant from time to time. She was smart as a whip, had a sharp tongue, and always kept Jayce on his toes. It was like having a little sister, honestly, and they used to joke about it, when it was just the two of them. Caitlyn even told people in school Jayce was her brother.

The Kirramans let Jayce into their home. Their lives. They let Caitlyn work alongside him and Jayce —

Jayce nearly got her killed.

The last time he saw Caitlyn, she was still in a hospital bed, still being nursed back to health. Her left eye was bandaged, her face marked with blue. Jayce had tried to get a message to her once, early on, but Vander told him the Kirramans only wished him well and asked him not to reach out to them or their daughter again.

“...Jayce?”

It’s the second day in his cell. Jayce sits up at the sound of his name, knowing that voice, knowing who it will be before Caitlyn appears on the other side of the bars.

“Cait!”

He goes to her, reaching for her as she reaches, too.

“Jayce, you’re alive!”

“Of course I’m alive.”

“I thought—” She shakes her head. “Everyone said if you’d gone to Zaun, you were a dead man.”

Jayce frowns and shakes his head. “Zaun saved me,” he says.

“It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you.”

Jayce gets a better look at her. She’s mostly healed, the left side of her face marked with streaks of blue, her eye covered by a dark patch. She’s tall, dressed in the dark colors of her house. Slim pants probably in defiance of her mother. She stands up straight, curling her hand around his.

“Cait, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. It’s alright. I never blamed you.”

“A girl died, and you could have, too.”

Caitlyn leans closer. “Or it could have been you, Jayce.” She reaches for him and strokes his cheek. “Mother said you had more crystals, but she seems…confused. And Heimerdinger quit the council.”

“Yeah, he told me.” Jayce shakes his head. “Will she hear me out, you think?”

“I don’t know. She mentioned you were supposed to be getting a retrial, but I don’t think this will be part of it.”

Jayce winces. “I doubt it.”

Caitlyn sighs. “I’m not sure what will happen, but I’ll talk to her. The crystals, Jayce. Where did they come from?”

He steps back. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Jayce.”

“They’re my responsibility. I brought them here to be destroyed.”

Caitlyn sighs. “Fine.” She pulls back. “I’ll talk to her. She didn’t want me to come, but I’ll do what I can.”

Jayce grips her hand one more time. “Thank you.”

Jayce isn’t sure which visit he’s dreading more. Viktor, if he comes at all, or his mother.

He really isn’t expecting them at the same time.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” his mother says. “I spent two years getting this retrial for you, and now you’ve gone and turned yourself in? Over what, Jayce?”

“The crystals are my responsibility, mom. They’re dangerous, and they need to be destroyed.”

“And you along with them?” She stands. “What do you expect me to say now? How will I defend you here? I look like a fool, Jayce. I begged and pleaded your case and now you hand yourself over to them, as if your life means nothing.”

“Mom—”

“Well. Perhaps to you, it doesn’t. But it means a great deal to me. To everyone who cares for you.” She puts a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “I will not see my son hanged for this. I will not stand idly by as you surrender your life.” She grips the bars, reaches for him.

Jayce goes. He always will.

“My love. Tell me it’s for any other reason. Tell me it’s for someone else. Tell me anything.”

Jayce wants to. He desperately wants to.

He closes his eyes.

“I have to do this,” he says. Jayce brings her hand to his lips, kisses her knuckles. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

His mother trembles, but only for a moment.

“...Right. I will go speak with your father’s lawyer. We have a few days before you go before the council. There will be a way to keep you safe,” she says. “I’m sure of it.” She turns. “Viktor?”

“I will stay for a moment, I think.”

She nods. “Alright.” She turns to Jayce and kisses her fingertips before pressing them to his cheek. “I will be back as soon as I can.”

Jayce watches her go, watches the end of hall long after she’s gone because to look at Viktor means —

Looking at Viktor.

Viktor sighs. “I found your note.”

“V—”

“How do we fix this?” Viktor asks, leaning forward. He lays his crutch across his legs. “There will be a way through. There always is.”

“Viktor, I’m sorry—”

“You said you wanted me. Wanted something. And then you turn around and hand yourself over to them? They could kill you, Jayce!”

“I…I know.”

“I have not told Powder. I’m not sure I could stop her from marching down here and telling the truth.”

“She can’t. Viktor, If they find out she had them, she’ll lose everything. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“No one deserves any of this, Jayce. But it’s where we are, so—” He swallows. “How will we solve this, hm?”

Jayce sighs, leaning his head forward against the bars. “I was counting on Heimerdinger’s support. His understanding. I fucked that up.”

“I’ve already spoken with him.”

Jayce looks up. “You didn’t tell him—”

“No. Obviously, he doesn’t believe you. I don’t know if anyone will, particularly councilor Kirraman. But we may have a chance to do something about this yet. Your mother is quite determined. She’s, eh, also very angry. But she’s also afraid they’re going to execute you.”

“They might.”

“Jayce.” Viktor reaches out, and Jayce takes his hand. The guard at the end of the hall makes a warning noise.

“Watch it.”

Viktor swallows. “You’ve taken it too far, Jayce. Punishing yourself for what happened. You do not deserve to die. You deserve to live and be happy. To have a new dream.” Viktor grips his hand tighter. “I thought, that we—” He shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

“Viktor—”

“I need to go meet your mother. I…we will think of something.”

He grips his hand one last time and leaves Jayce alone with his thoughts.

Jayce settles back against the wall. He knows what it looks like — that he’s trying to get himself killed, that he doesn’t care what happens to him, or the people he loves.

But he does.

Maybe too much.

“Why’d you go and get yourself arrested? I didn’t know you were stupid.”

Jayce sits up. “Ekko.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Ekko stands in front of the cell, hands in his pockets. “Vander thought he was being slick, but I heard him talking to Silco about going topside to help you out.”

Jayce quickly stands. “Powder isn’t—”

“She doesn’t know. And honestly, you owe me for that, because she’s going to kill me when she finds out.”

Jayce shakes his head. “I can’t get her involved in this. If the council knows she had them—”

“They won’t.” Ekko grips one of the bars. “You’re really gonna take the fall here?”

Jayce nods. “If Powder’s implicated, it could unravel a lot of good work, and it wouldn’t be her fault. If we destroy them ourselves, someone could get killed. I was counting on Heimerdinger to be able to help me, but now I’m not sure.”

“Vander’s working on it.”

Jayce frowns. “He shouldn’t be. He’s done enough, I don’t want him or anyone else to take the blame.”

“Yeah? Well tough. We’re part of this Jayce. You made us part of it, when you ran away to Zaun. If you didn’t want to be one of us, you should have gone somewhere else. Now, it’s personal.”

Jayce thunks his head on the bars. “...Ekko. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. You can say you’re sorry and make it up to everyone when you’re out of here.” Ekko wraps a hand around one of Jayce’s. “You know how when you knock something down, and it knocks a bunch of things down with it?”

Jayce huffs a laugh. “Like dominoes?”

Ekko nods. “Yeah. Dominoes.” He squeezes Jayce’s hand and steps back. “I get why you did this. I know what you’re trying to do, and I wish you didn’t have to, believe me. But I get it. We’re all in this, Jayce.

“We just gotta make sure you don’t get knocked down.”

No one comes to see him, the morning before his trial. Jayce is allowed ten minutes to clean himself up, to shave and trim his hair, to change into something he hasn’t been wearing for nearly a week. Then they handcuff him.

Heimerdinger meets him in the hall.

“I’ve spoken with as many council members as I can,” he says. “...Including Cassandra Kirraman.”

Jayce sucks in a breath. “Okay.”

“Everything is going to be alright, Jayce. Trust the process. Now let’s go. Everyone’s waiting.”

The first time Jayce walked into this room, he’d been twenty four and scared shitless. Jayce can’t really say he isn’t scared, but he’s not a kid anymore, and nothing is the same. There was a crowd here last time, but now, the room is empty, except for his friends, his family. He sees his mother and Viktor standing with Caitlyn. He sees Vander and Ekko — thankfully, he doesn’t see that blue hair anywhere.

Jayce breathes. If Powder is safe, then so are Zaun and Piltover. Jayce stops in front of the councilors and stands up straight.

Cassandra clears her throat. “Jayce Talis. You are accused of harboring property deemed dangerous and illegal by this council nearly a decade before. As part of your original sentencing, all your research was to be handed over and destroyed. As you have violated this ruling, this council now deems your original verdict null and void, and demands a new trial in light of this evidence. How do you plead?”

Jayce steps forward. “Guilty.”

Cassandra raises a brow and breathes through her nose. She was always good at masking her annoyance.

“Very well.” She glances down the table. “My understanding is you have prepared a defense.”

“Why?” One of the councilors, pale and thin and blonde, leans forward. “The ruling was violated. Listening to any defense of this criminal is pointless.”

Another councilor holds up her hand. “The defendant has rights, Councilor Salo. His mother was heard at the first trial, any who wish to speak up for Mr. Talis will be heard at this one.”

Cassandra nods. “Thank you, Councilor Medarda.” She turns to Jayce. “Your first defense, please?”

Jayce has no idea what’s going to happen, but he does not expect Vander to be the first one to talk. It makes him feel the way Vander always has, like he’s too young to be here, like he should know better, like he should give a damn. The way Vander speaks, the way he spreads his arms and tells Jayce’s story like it’s just another tale at the bar, makes Jayce want to fall to his knees.

Vander looks at Jayce and says, “Jayce is family. He’s Zaun as much as he’s Piltover, and he deserves to keep living the life he’s made.”

Jayce steadies himself and looks back at the council.

Cassandra gestures. “Anyone else?”

Jayce panics. “I—”

“Yes!” Heimerdinger steps out under the spotlight. “I would like to speak for the boy as well.”

“As would I,” his mother says, stepping forward.

“And me.” Caitlyn stands under the lights.

Cassandra raises a brow and leans forward. “Really.”

Caitlyn nods. “Yes. I would.”

The room grows deathly quiet. All the councilors watch Cassandra Kirraman, unblinking.

She leans back in her chair. “Very well,” she says. “You may proceed.”

For an hour, between Heimerdinger and Cait and his mother, they give their defense, answering questions and holding their own. Vander comes back to answer questions, too, and with each passing moment, Jayce feels less and less sure of his own fate, but more sure of at least one thing —

He isn’t alone. If anything, he’s never been alone.

But Viktor is quiet.

Look at me, Jayce thinks. Please, just look at me.

“That, I think, is more than enough.” Cassandra makes a few notes. “Thank you…Miss Kirraman.”

Caitlyn steps back.

Cassandra sighs. “If there is no one else—”

“Wait.”

Jayce turns and watches as the crowd parts and Viktor pushes his way out and into the light.

“I…I have something to say.”

Cassandra raises a brow. “And you are?”

“Viktor,” he says. “Just—Viktor.”

“And your relationship to the defendant?”

Viktor steps forward. “He is my partner, and… we live together. For almost ten years Jayce and I have owned a shop in Zaun. We’ve fixed…nearly everything, I suppose. Mining equipment, ovens, engines, batteries—toys. Whatever people need. It was how Jayce made himself a part of our community. How he came to be known and admired.” Viktor looks at him. “How I came to know him, for who he truly is.”

“You are a professor at the academy,” one of the councilors says, leaning forward. “I’ve seen you.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, I am.” Viktor clears his throat. “But without Jayce, I would not be.”

“That is of little importance,” Salo says. “What concerns me is the fact that you lived with Mr. Talis and didn’t seem to know about these crystals. Unless…you’re lying.”

“I was asked to provide a defense of Jayce’s character. I—”

“Perhaps you were an accomplice?” Salo asks. “I think it’s a fair question.”

“That is not—”

“And if you were embedded in the university, it would be easy for you to have access to a central part of the city.”

Viktor grips his crutch and shakes his head. “I would never—”

“If the defendant is guilty, as he has claimed, professor, then explain how you, a man who lives and works with him every day, had no knowledge of these objects and could not possibly be in cahoots—”

“Jayce would never do anything to hurt Zaun or Piltover!” Viktor shouts. “He is loyal to a fault. He’s—he’s loyal to everything, and everyone.” Viktor sighs. “And if you kill him, you will not undo the good he has done. Jayce is a good man, and…he deserves to live a good life.”

Cassandra leans forward. “That is not what we are debating, professor.”

Viktor scowls. “Then what are you debating, hm? You have demanded the crystals and now you have them. Jayce has lived outside Piltover for nearly a decade, has caused you no trouble, and doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. Why do you insist on this trial, then hold it in an empty room?” He gestures around.

Heimerdinger pulls on Viktor’s shirt. “Viktor.”

“Because you know you have nothing.” Viktor’s crutch bangs against the floor.

“You are out of line, sir,” Cassandra snaps.

“Perhaps I am! But I will not stand idly by while you unfairly decide the fate of the man I love.”

The room is silent. Viktor stares straight ahead. Councilor Salo’s neck goes red and he looks away.

“...Thank you, professor.” Cassandra folds her hands in front of her.

Viktor glances over his shoulder at Jayce. “...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should have said it sooner.”

Jayce shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

Cassandra clears her throat. “If there are no further testimonies or…confessions, this council will take a vote.” She sits up straight. “Those in favor of upholding the original ruling of exile—”

Jayce looks around. Years ago, he’d barely made it out of this room alive, four to three.

Today, it’s five to two.

He’ll take those numbers.

Cassandra nods. “Then this council is adjourned. Jayce Talis, you will be escorted to the border of the city and will return to Zaun immediately. Your residence will be searched for any further evidence of dangerous magics.”

“I—yes. I understand.”

“Very well.” She stands. As soon as she steps away from the table, she turns back to him. “I did not take this on lightly, Jayce. Nor with any pleasure. You were dear to my family once and I am glad to see you are well.” She grips the papers in her hands. Then nods. “See that this continues.”

The moment Jayce crosses the bridge, his mother throws herself into his arms.

“If you ever do something like that again—”

“I won’t,” he says, pulling her close. “I’m sorry. It had to be done, mom.”

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, and Jayce looks at Vander.

“You did good, son. Can’t say it’s how I’d have done it, but you’re here and you’re not dead.”

Ekko shakes his head. “Still stupid, though.”

Jayce laughs. “Maybe a little.” He looks past his mother. “Cait.”

Caitlyn punches his shoulder. “Please don’t make me do this again. I’m in enough trouble already.”

Jayce shakes his head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” She joins his mother’s hug and kisses his cheek. “You’re still here, so it was worth it.”

“Yeah, seems that way.”

When they finally let him go, Jayce looks up to see Viktor, standing just outside everyone’s orbit, watching him.

Jayce steps forward, and Viktor rushes in to meet him.

“I thought they were going to kill you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t you ever do this to me again, do you understand me?”

Jayce nods. “I do.” He holds Viktor’s face in his hands. “You love me.”

“Of course I love you, you’ve given me no other choice.”

“You love me, you said it in front of everyone.”

Viktor shoves his crutch between them and pulls Jayce in for a kiss.

“I do,” he says. “And I would say it in front of them all again and again and again.”

“Say it for me?” Jayce asks. “One more time.”

Viktor smiles. “I love you.”

Jayce kisses him again.

“I love you, too.”

It takes two days to put their house back together after Enforcers tear it apart. Jayce sets up his collection of stones and crystals he’s picked up over the years back in the kitchen window and promises Viktor he’ll replace all the cups and plates that are broken in a box outside.

“There was no need for them to be that thorough. You aren’t hiding, eh, what did you call it? Hextech? In the coffee beans.”

“I could be,” Jayce says, crowding Viktor against the kitchen counter and kissing him.

“Please,” Viktor says weakly. “Not again.”

Jayce laughs. “Okay, okay.” He glances at the clock. “You need to go. I’ll walk you to the trolley.”

“Such a gentleman. Will you carry my books, too?”

“No, that bag is heavy. Stop carrying every single text book for every single class, you have back problems and an office.”

They walk and talk and bicker all the way to the trolley station. Jayce kisses Viktor goodbye and turns to head to the shop. He’s thinking about opening a few minutes late, getting something to eat and maybe a cup of tea, but someone is standing in front of the door.

“Good morning, Jayce.”

“Mrs. Kirraman.”

It just comes out. It’s what Jayce called her, for all the years she was his sponsor and patron. He grips the shop key in his hand and takes a steadying breath.

“Am I in the way?” she asks.

“No, not at all. I was—” He clears his throat. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely.”

He nods and walks her down the road, buying two cups from a vendor and finding a bench to sit on.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. Cait’s been coming around lately, helping in the shop, having dinner at the house. She’s a grown woman now, she can do what she wants, but Jayce doesn’t want to upset an already delicate balance.

“It’s quite alright. Caitlyn said I should come and see what you do here. She said it would…make me feel better.”

“Did I—”

“You didn’t do anything at all, Jayce. You…” She sighs. “I don’t know who you were taking the blame for. I can only assume it was worth it to you at the time. And I know you won’t say, but—” She looks at him. “The crystals have been destroyed. Heimerdinger made sure of it.”

“That’s good.”

(He doesn’t tell her that a part of him could feel it, he swore he could. Viktor came home and told him later that day and Jayce didn’t tell Viktor that either, didn’t think it was right — )

“The rest of the council and I have been debating what comes next. For you.”

Jayce raises a brow. “I thought everything was finished.”

“There is the matter of your retrial.”

“But that—”

“It was granted at your mother’s request. However, since you’ve been exonerated again, the council didn’t feel it was necessary to go through it all a second time. So, we voted.” She hands him an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Read it, Jayce.”

He nods, setting his tea aside and breaking the seal on the envelope.

“This council hereby vacates the ruling of exile for Jayce Talis, permitting him entry within the borders of Piltover.” Jayce looks up. “Cassandra, I—”

“Keep reading.”

He does.

“Furthermore, all house titles are reinstated and, as per house law, Jayce Talis regains control of House Talis, its properties, regalia, and honors.” He swallows. “...This is. More than generous.”

“It is symbolic, more than anything else.” She sips her tea. “Caitlyn seemed to think you had no interest in leaving this place. Seeing your life here, I am inclined to agree.”

“I’ve worked hard,” Jayce says. “I’m happy. But this…I do appreciate it,” he admits. “And I won’t take it for granted.”

Cassandra nods. “Ten years is a long time for a city to hold a grudge against one man. If Zaun can forgive you, if they can take you in and call you one of their own, then I see no reason why Piltover shouldn’t do the same.” She looks at him. “I wanted you dead, Jayce. Ten years ago. When I saw what happened to Caitlyn, I—”

“...I know.”

“I regretted not voting, after. I…I wanted to apologize, but by then it was really too late.”

Jayce shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Really. This is…more than I deserve.”

She rolls her eyes. “Enough,” she says, and Jayce’s mouth snaps shut. “Self-pity isn’t becoming of you, Jayce. You’ve more decorum than that. And you’re the head of House Talis. It’s time you start acting like it.”

Jayce laughs. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

“I find a consistent attitude helps people know what to expect,” she says, but her mouth curls into a smile as she takes another sip of her tea.

“The head of House Talis,” Viktor says, straddling his waist. “That’s…interesting.”

“We can go into the city together,” Jayce murmurs. He and Viktor stumbled right out of the shower and into his bed and Jayce doesn’t intend on letting him go. He presses a kiss to his sternum and looks up. “We could see plays, go to Progress Day. Have dinner with my mother.”

Viktor laughs, cradling Jayce’s face in his hands. “I will go anywhere with you. You know this.”

Jayce nods. “Yeah. I do.” He falls back, pulling Viktor flush with his chest.

“I’ll have you come to the academy,” Viktor says. “Though I think you’re still technically expelled.”

Jayce rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to be seen as a rule breaker, now that I’m a proper member of the faculty.”

Jayce growls and kisses him, leaving small bites down the length of Viktor’s neck he’ll complain about in the morning.

“You’re impossible,” Jayce mutters.

Viktor laughs and pushes himself up, looking down at Jayce with a fondness that makes him ache.

“And yet, here I am.”

Jayce stares, then rises up in a rush to kiss him, moaning as Viktor cards his fingers through Jayce’s hair and grinds their hips together.

“Let me fuck you,” Viktor says. “I want to feel you around me.”

“Please.” Jayce looks up at him. “Please, Viktor.”

“Anything you desire.” Viktor kisses his forehead and gives Jayce’s hip a little tap. He lifts and a pillow slides beneath him before Viktor gets up to snatch the oil from his dresser, coming back to settle between Jayce’s knees. He starts at his neck, leaving a slow, searing cascade of kisses down Jayce’s chest and stomach, ghosting around his stiffening cock and tracing the curve of his hip.

“Roll over,” Viktor murmurs, and Jayce does. He rises back up, this time to leave kisses down Jayce’s back, over the swell of his ass. There’s a pause, just before Jayce feels Viktor spread him, then the warm swipe of his tongue over his hole.

“Oh. Oh, fuck—”

“Is this alright?”

“Yes, V. It’s alright.” Jayce grinds a little against the pillow, folding his arms so he can rest his cheek against them. He closes his eyes as Viktor starts up again, fingers squeezing his ass as he drags the flat of his tongue against Jayce once, then twice, before pressing inside him. It makes Jayce’s cock twitch, trapped between his stomach and the pillow.

Viktor makes a noise against him, and Jayce swears.

“Fuck, Viktor—” He squeezes his eyes shut against the pleasure. Spit drips down into the pillow beneath them, but Jayce has already ruined it, he knows it. He can feel the slick head of his cock without even touching it.

Viktor keeps going, pressing Jayce open with his tongue, the sound of it wet and slick and filthy. Jayce could come from this, he really thinks he could and he’s about to tell Viktor when he finally stops.

“On your back,” Viktor manages, and Jayce goes, pulling Viktor close as he does. Viktor smears his spit slick lips across Jayce’s throat, leaving bite marks of his own. He grabs the oil and pours some into his palm before stroking his cock, leaning forward to press the tip against Jayce’s hole.

“Doing okay?” Jayce asks.

Viktor laughs. “I’m, eh—” He swallows. “I just—” He takes a breath and Jayce lets his head fall back as Viktor pushes into him, the thick head of his cock spreading Jayce open.

Jayce has wanted this for years. He’s let other people fuck him and thought of Viktor, nearly said his name. He had only a memory of what Viktor felt like against him, what he saw that night, but this — this is everything. This is more than everything. Jayce makes room for Viktor, let’s Viktor fill and complete him, the full length of him deep inside as Jayce gasps and begs for more.

“You were made to take me, weren’t you?” Viktor asks. “Made just for me?”

“I was. I was, Viktor please—”

“Please what, Jayce? What else do you want from me? What else can I do?”

“Harder, fuck, I don’t know—”

Viktor draws back and thrusts into him, setting a brutal pace that Jayce knows they’ll both feel in the morning.

And he wants to. He wants to feel every ache and bruise and he wants to know it was Viktor who made him feel it. Viktor who ruined him. Viktor who loved him —

“Fuck, V, I love you, you know I love you—”

“I know, Jayce. I do.” Viktor picks up the pace, each thrust slamming home, each push jolting the bed beneath them as the headboard bangs and bangs against the wall. He gets one leg around his waist and keeps fucking, keeps going, keeps taking and taking and taking.

Jayce reaches down to touch himself and Viktor pushes his hand away.

“Viktor—”

“Not. Yet.”

“Come on, just—”

“I want to see you go as long as you can, Jayce. As long as I can.”

Jayce moans. “You’re going to kill me, V.”

“Not yet I won’t.” Viktor leans over and pins Jayce’s wrists to the bed, holding himself inside him. Jayce clenches a few times and Viktor groans, dropping his head to Jayce’s chest. “Oh—”

“You wanna outlast me?”

“This is not a competition, Jayce. I’m fucking you.”

“Yeah,” Jayce says. “You sure are.”

Viktor huffs a laugh and kisses him, setting a slower pace, curling his arms over Jayce’s head and twisting his fingers in his hair.

“S’feel good?” Jayce asks.

“It feels perfect.”

“I’m not—” Jayce gasps against Viktor’s mouth. “I’m really not gonna last, V.”

“It’s alright. I want you to come whenever you want. I want to feel you, Jayce.”

“C-can—” He moans. “Can I touch myself?”

Viktor raises a brow. “Alright,” he says, and pushes himself up. “But I want to see.” He squeezes Jayce’s thighs, watching as Jayce brings a hand down to finally, finally curl around his cock. “Good boy.”

Jayce fucking swoons.

He’s done this so many times, thinking of Viktor. Once, guilt ridden and ashamed, he did it when he could hear Viktor fucking someone, could hear the sound of them begging for him, saying his name.

It floods back, but Jayce looks at Viktor and sees the hunger in his eyes, sees the way he watches every touch of Jayce’s fingers on his cock — and all that goes away.

There’s only…joy. Love. Unbridled affection. Jayce lets Viktor see how every thrust makes him shudder, how his cock reacts to Viktor and nothing else —

“You’re gonna make me come,” Jayce manages. “I’m gonna come on your cock, gonna make a mess—” Viktor nods, his thrusts losing their rhythm, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Come on, V. Fuck me. Make me come, make me—”

Viktor bends Jayce’s good leg back, dropping his gaze and fucking into Jayce with a brutal efficiency. Jayce can only hear the sound of skin on skin, the sudden wail that’s yanked from his throat as Viktor’s cock hits his prostate and doesn’t let up, doesn’t fucking stop —

“Fuck, fuck, Viktor, I’m—” Jayce comes with shout, with a howl, spilling over his fist and cock, all over his stomach.

Everything is hot and burning and good and alive and Viktor isn’t done. He keeps going, fucks Jayce through his climax and keeps his leg bent back and Jayce open. He moans and thrusts in, frantic and desperate.

Jayce squeezes his arms. “Come on, V. You’re so close.”

“Jayce, I—”

“Just like that. Just—oh, fuck, come on, give it up for me, let me feel you.”

Viktor nods, and it’s only another breath or two before he comes with a low groan, spilling into Jayce, sliding in and out through his orgasm, brow furrowed so sweetly that Jayce can’t help but pull him down and kiss it smooth.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “S’good, right?”

Viktor collapses into the sweat-come mess of Jayce’s chest and nods, panting.

“Y-yes,” he finally says. “It was—” He swallows. “It was very good.”

Jayce pushes the hair back from Viktor’s forehead and kisses between his brow. Viktor is still inside him, both of them still breathing heavily. After a moment, he slips free and Jayce makes a noise, feeling the mess they’ve made on the blanket beneath them.

“So much for our shower, hm?” Viktor drags a finger through the drying mess on Jayce’s chest. “I suppose we’ll just have to get another.”

“I’m starting to think you like getting messy just so I can wash your hair.”

Viktor hums. “It’s very soothing.”

Jayce sighs and pulls him closer. “Alright. In a minute.”

“Jayce. Jayce.”

Jayce groans and rolls over. “It’s early.”

“I know.” Viktor sits on the edge of their bed and cards his fingers through Jayce’s hair. “I want to take you somewhere. Will you get up and go with me?”

Jayce opens one eye and looks at Viktor, already dressed, hair pulled back and a cup of tea in hand. It’s still mostly dark.

“Where are we going?”

“To the caves.”

Jayce raises a brow and nods. “Alright. Just need a minute.”

He meets Viktor outside, still yawning, pulling on his jacket.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Viktor nods and leads a quiet walk to the caves, taking Jayce’s hand when he offers it.

“What’s in your bag?” he asks.

“A surprise.”

“Hm.”

When they get to the caves, Jayce helps Viktor down, keeping a tight grip on him as they traverse the unsteady rocks and make their way inside. He kicks at the algae, frowning when Viktor takes a different turn.

“V—”

“It’s alright. This is safe.”

“I’ve never gone this way.”

“Trust me,” Viktor says, glancing over his shoulder, one amber eye shining. Jayce nods and follows.

It’s a little more treacherous than their usual path, but it eventually takes them down to a different level of the cavern, letting them watch the waveriders swim in and out of the bay. Viktor points to a spot and sits. Jayce drops down next to him.

“What’s going on?” he finally asks.

Viktor points. “I’ve been observing their migration patterns the last few years. Today, I believe, is when they’re going to leave for warmer waters.” He pulls a bottle of something from his bag and sets it on the stone beneath them. “It is also, officially, ten years since the day we met.”

Jayce looks at the bottle, recognizing it as the second one Viktor bought two years ago. “I guess it is.”

In front of them, sunlight begins to pour in from the bay, and a group of waveriders dive off the rocks and into the water.

Rio sidles up to Viktor’s side.

“Every year she stays behind. Did you know that?”

“I…no. I didn’t.”

Viktor puts a hand on her head. “Her instincts were so disrupted, but now, I think, she’s figured it out.” He feeds her a handful of flowers. “Is it time? Are you ready to go?”

Rio makes a noise, chewing the plants in Viktor’s hand.

“Wait, she’s migrating?”

“I think so. She is welcome to stay, of course. She’ll be fine here. But her mate and her children left without her last year and she was very lonely, I think.”

Jayce nods. “You mentioned something like that.” He hasn’t been down here since he met the pups.

Below them on the rocks, three waveriders, blue and pink, bark and yip sharply, calling out. Rio turns to them, then looks at Viktor.

“Go on,” he says. “I’ll see you when you come home.”

Rio makes a noise, then scuttles over the edge of the cliff and dives into the water below. The others leap in after her and swim out of the bay and into the sun.

On the edge of the cliff, Viktor opens the bottle and takes a drink, passing it to Jayce. They sit in silence, watching the waveriders leave in groups, until the cave is empty, and the soft glow of the algae dims around them.

“Happy anniversary,” Jayce says, tipping into Viktor’s side.

Viktor smiles, tongue darting out to taste the wine on his lips. “Happy anniversary. I have something else.”

“Vik, I don’t have anything—” Jayce stops. Viktor holds out his hand, showing Jayce a single gear resting in his palm. “...What is this?”

“It’s a gear from the lift. The one we fixed at the mines.”

Jayce reaches out and picks it up. It’s small, heavier than he thought it would be. Viktor takes another drink from the bottle.

“You kept this?”

“I’ve kept a lot of things, but I found this in my toolbox last month. It took a while to figure out where it came from.” Viktor leans in. “Before you came here, I was…alone. And that was fine. But the moment you stumbled into my life, I realized that something had been missing. A piece that made everything run the way it was meant to.” He covers Jayce’s hand with his own. “A gear in the machine.”

“Viktor…”

“You were meant to come here,” Viktor says. “You were meant to show me this. You were meant—”

Jayce leans forward and kisses him, cupping his cheek and tightening the grip on Viktor’s hand, the gear pressing into their skin.

He pulls back and tips their foreheads together, trying to think of something else to say.

But there’s nothing. Just…soft and careful silence, the warmth of Viktor beside him, and the sun coming in from the bay.

After, they get up and walk out of the cave, the bottle swinging between them as the sun rises over another day. The world and their city stretch out in front of them, and as Viktor takes his hand, Jayce thinks about all the ways his life could have gone, all the dozens of threads stretching out into a universe of seemingly infinite possibilities —

And he is glad, right now, that this one is his. That he is alive. And he isn’t alone.