Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jayce didn't do well in the cold.

He was a blacksmith, an engineer. He spent his days working in front of a forge or sweating over a soldering iron. He was too accustomed to the roiling heat, he caught a cold the second snow started to fall. That became the diplomatic excuse, when he needed to quietly and politely bow out of whatever social or fundraising event the Kiramman's had arranged, or later down the line at the endless hand-greasing galas or dinners the Man of Progress had to attend that happened to be scheduled on the first snow of the season.

Jayce fucking hated snow.

And who wouldn't, after almost dying in a blizzard? After watching his mother hit the ground, blackened dead fingers, leaving him alone and freezing and grasping onto what could very well have been a corpse. Every winter went the same: The first few weeks of cold were purely anticipatory dread. It got stronger as the temperature dropped. Then the snow would hit. During the first snow of the year, he couldn't so much as step outside without immediately feeling sick to his stomach. Nothing was going to happen, he was in the middle of a city, it's all fine. He wished his body would believe him. He'd have to stay inside, usually wrapped in bed since his room always felt too cold no matter how high he cranked the heat, until the snow stopped. From there he could muscle through the rest of the winter, getting through the cold and any further snow with anxiety just lessened enough to swallow, chipper and bright as he was before. Still fucking sucked every time though. The nightmares always stayed till spring.

If there's one thing that blizzard had been good for, it was the mage. It was easy to separate those two events, for Jayce. All the fear and bone-deep surety that he was going to die alone and slowly that no eight year old should have known disappeared in a flash of the mage's runes. As far as he was concerned the blizzard had ended right then, even before they found themselves in the meadow. That blizzard had nothing to do with helping him discover his love of science, with his life's work, with finding the partner that very quickly became the best friend he'd ever had. It wasn't allowed.

So it was alright, that Jayce had never told Viktor about the blizzard. He and Viktor had gotten much closer much faster than he expected, a sort of understanding and comfort humming warmly between them in their lab. With all the easy small talk and perfectly synced brainstorming and casual touch, it was easy to forget that they actually… didn't know much about each other in that first year. Well, at least, Jayce didn't know much about Viktor. Which was fine, he understood. Jayce on the other hand was an open book as far as he was concerned. Viktor knew the story about the mage, of course, but he didn't need to know what the mage was doing there, what Jayce had needed to be rescued from. That's why he didn't want to talk to Viktor about it, because it really had nothing to do with their work. That was the reason. It was. He trusted Viktor implicitly, it simply wasn't important.

It's their first winter as partners, and Jayce is desperate to not fuck this up. He's running late, the cold kept him up the night before, and as he looks outside his chest tightens painfully. He sees the snow starting to fall for the first time that year, and he knows that if he had just left on time he would have beat the snow to the lab. He had just convinced Viktor to allow an old couch into the lab, Jayce could have slept there until the snow stopped. He still shuffles to the door, wills himself to make it to the lab, but his hand shakes as he reaches for the door handle. He's going to be useless in the lab anyway, it seems. He can't think to work on the theoreticals, can't hold his hands still enough to find a task to stop him from thinking.

And if he's honest, he doesn't want Viktor to see him like this. One of Viktor's first impressions of him had included his own mother standing in front of the council to tell everyone that her son had fucking lost it, had been chewed up and spat out by a childhood obsession, that he wasn't worth listening to. He didn't need to show up a shivering, stuttering, paranoid mess, and give Viktor any more reason than he probably already had to lose faith in the project. In Jayce. He doesn't know if he'd be able to take being abandoned and left back at square one again. But it's fine, it is, he can miss one day and come back the next day with little ribbing from his partner, they both miss a day from time to time.

It snows for three days.

Jayce tries every day to get out the door. He got close, once, and then almost threw up on the stairs down to the street from his apartment building from anxiety. He went back to bed, shivering long after the cold melted away into his fortress of quilts. When the snow finally stops, he makes it back to the lab. He stands outside the door for a second, readying a long apology and reinforcement of his dedication to the project and his partner, before sliding the door open quietly until he can just barely slip inside. He's not trying to sneak in, necessarily, but there's something in his brain that believes if he can slide into his workstation as quickly and quietly as he can, he can escape Viktor's ire. Obviously, that doesn't work out.

As soon as Jayce closes the door behind himself, Viktor swivels around in his chair to stare him down. It was honestly completely unfair that Viktor had already been in the lab for hours and still managed to look good, legs casually and haphazardly splayed as he stops the spin of his stool. His hair was unusually mussed, he must have just taken his goggles off. It's distracting in its rarity as Viktor to Jayce's memory had never even taken off his tie in the lab. With how meticulous Viktor kept everything else, Jayce felt like he should avert his eyes from that disheveled auburn hair like he would if someone was undressing in front of him. Altogether he cut a lithe, predatory figure with a piercing stare. And all of it was only punctuated by Viktor's cane, held at arm's length (whether for stability or dramatic effect, Jayce didn't know), as he shifted it in annoyance.

Jayce had built that cane for him extremely early in their friendship (perhaps too early for the gift to be anything but uncomfortably forward), as an apology for his old one being broken as they attempted to keep Heimerdinger out of his office. Viktor had initially recoiled at the idea of it, Jayce had worried it had come off as pity. But Jayce had steamed ahead, his nervousness overriding the reasonable option, as it often did, of shutting the fuck up and apologizing. He had spent a good while in the forge, making sure it was a worthy gift for realizing Baby Jayce's dreams. He was proud of his work, he wanted Viktor to love it, to see that Jayce was committed to him and his place in the project.

It was collapsible, height adjustable (with a retractable sort of pedal so Viktor could hold it steady while he adjusted it without having to bend down or grapple awkwardly with it), and a lightly malleable grip that could form fit to Viktor's hand as comfortably as possible. He wanted to make Viktor something that he could fiddle with and make comfortable as independently as possible. And if he needed anything else, Jayce didn't exactly have a wait list. Maybe Viktor sensed that, his face softening the more Jayce showed him the features, because eventually he accepted it with a quiet thank you, this is very considerate. He didn't know exactly what changed Viktor's mind that day, but Jayce was glad he did, watching Viktor gently tilt with the cane wrought in Jayce's house colors back and forth. It made that unnameable feeling in his gut turn as Viktor stared him down.

Viktor was handsome. Fact. An objective fact that even Viktor knew and weaponized when he felt like it. Jayce had quickly learned there was a reason Viktor's cover story when Mel had caught them breaking into Heimerdinger's office was that he was sneaking a boy into his room.

All to say that it was fine, actually, that Jayce was momentarily distracted.

"Care to explain why I have been working on your brainchild all by myself for the last three days?" Viktor interrupted his thoughts, his voice not quite a snap but simmering with annoyance, his accent adding the effect of an unhappy rumble. He notes, warmly, that Viktor has stopped saying your project. Your dream. Granted, he was inventing new ways to refer to Hextech as yours that are just accurate enough that Jayce wouldn't fight him on it, but it was progress. Jayce would have him believing that he did actually think of Viktor as an equal in no time at this rate. Viktor's fingers rapped impatiently against the handle of his cane. Right, he was in trouble. He had that speech he was working on just a second ago. All the gut-warming distraction he had been drifting in plunged back into icy unsurety.

"Was sick," he mumbled instead. Great. Jayce's brain seems to have left the building. Gods, was it always so fucking cold in here?

"You don't look sick to me."

"Sorry." That catches Viktor a little off guard, Jayce thinks. They don't usually fight, but they do bicker. Oftentimes for fun. They both had a good amount of pride, so the bickering didn't stop until someone stumbled over a one liner, and the other person smugly won. Jayce maybe should have tried a little harder to keep up appearances, rise to the bait instead of opting out and slinking away to his workstation with his tail between his legs, but he curls over his work defeatedly anyway. He almost flinched as he heard the tak, tak, of Viktor's cane pulling his rolling stool towards Jayce. Jayce leans back in his seat, maintaining an air of normalcy as he crossed his arms and held Viktor's gaze. Viktor squinted at him, just barely, the way he does when he's trying to decipher the half lucid notes he had left himself the night before. Whatever Viktor saw, Jayce couldn't read. Viktor tips his head to the side appraisingly.

"Well enough to work?" Viktor's tone tended toward judgemental a lot of the time, and this inquiry was no exception, but it was missing the bite that usually accompanied it.

"I'm all yours." He cringed a little internally as he flashed Viktor his lopsided smile. Jayce could become 'Jayce of House Talis' in the blink of an eye. He could schmooze with the best of them, and he was glad for it now. Now that he's hopefully out of the worst of his funk, he could turn on the charm and lay low till spring. Viktor hovered a little longer, eyebrows slightly furrowed and eyes searching Jayce's face. Eventually, he nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Next time you're sick, I expect a doctor's note upon your return," Viktor teased, sliding back to his own work. He couldn't be sure, but he thought maybe Viktor was mirroring Jayce's attempts to come off as unaffected. He thinks Viktor might be concerned, just a little, and letting Jayce off the hook. And he makes Jayce chuckle, genuinely. Makes him feel a little more alive. That's worth a lot, this time of year. Usually he has to fake it for a week or so after snow. He muses almost unconsciously that of course Viktor is the only one who could draw it out of him. He doesn't know why, but it felt right.

"You got it, boss," Jayce shot back with a mocking salute and another crooked smile, feeling a bit more like himself again. Viktor made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat as he put his goggles back on and turned back to his tinkering, waving Jayce away. But Viktor couldn't hide the slight upward turn of the corner of his mouth, the gentle exhale through the nose that came with the urge to laugh. Jayce had yet to see Viktor actually laugh, but smiles were a once rare commodity that Jayce received more and more often all the time. Jayce started setting up for the day, tucking the image of Viktor with his dumb looking goggles and charmingly ruffled hair and a nascent laugh away for a rainy day.

The next time it snows that year, that image of Viktor takes up a whole page in his sketchbook.

Chapter Text

By the end of the first snow day of their second year as partners, Jayce is pretty sure his and Viktor's friendship would not have survived if they been even slightly less close than they had grown over the last year.

Viktor gave smiles easily now, and Jayce in return let Viktor see a little bit more of the insecurity Jayce went to great lengths to bury. He had felt like it would be a terrible exchange, repaying Viktor's growing warmth with Jayce's slivers of cold melancholy. And that first time he had truly deflated, the first time he had thought 'fuck it, I trust him,' and quietly wondered aloud whether the project would ever be worth what the Kiramman's had paid for it, whether it would be worth all the time Viktor had sacrificed to it, Viktor had just stared at him. He felt the eyes burn into the side of his face, tensed up in preparation for some kind of agreement or reprimand.

"I will not regret the time I have given our work, Jayce, no matter what it becomes," Viktor had assured him in a tone gentler than Jayce had ever heard it. Jayce had looked over in astonishment at our work, and the look in Viktor's eyes took him by surprise. A look that showed complete understanding that this insecurity was as innate and vulnerable as Viktor's flashes of gentleness. And from there the trust only grew. Viktor started to laugh, started to let Jayce see his enjoyment of the work instead of just the steadfast professionalism guiding him to an end goal, and Jayce let Viktor see when he was tired, when he was hopeless and insecure. Even if they didn't know much about each other's personal lives, Jayce was always there to encourage Viktor's joy, and Viktor was always there to gently prod away Jayce's doubt.

Then, just like last year, the snow came. This time it started when Jayce was halfway to the Academy building where their little closet of a lab hid, so he successfully made it in today, rather than being stuck at home in bed. He was fine, really. It was just a few snowflakes on his jacket, in his hair, dipping into his sight from his eyelashes. It was gentle rather than gusting out there, totally manageable. A single snowflake fell from an eyelash and onto his cheek before melting away as he hung up his jacket in the lab. With a sharp inhale, he very quickly brushed the rest of the snow off of wherever he could find it, shoulders tense. He stood there at their coat rack, gripping onto his jacket with white knuckles as he took a deep breath. It was fine, this was stupid, it's one snowflake, he's fine. He took deep breaths, focusing on the quiet bustle of people outside in the Academy halls, the scratch of Viktor's pencil where he works at his desk. It's warm in here, there are crowds of people within earshot, Viktor is right there. The pressure in his chest started to unwind, letting go of his lungs and letting him breathe again.

"Not so good with the cold, eh?" Viktor called. Jayce tensed up all over, completely undoing all the work he had just done to relax. He glanced over to see that Viktor was still hunched over his work, hadn't looked up at Jayce at all before he continued. "Between all that time in the forge and being a walking space heater, I am a bit surprised you notice the cold at all."

"What makes you think that?" Jayce said with all the composure he could muster. He was glad Viktor wasn't looking as he settled in at the workbench next to his partner, he could save the energy for sounding normal without having to look normal. They had long given up on having individual spaces, papers and blueprints and prototypes overlapping and intermingled for one continued work space. A scientist's intimacy. Similarly, Viktor had given up wearing the full academy uniform in the lab in the last year, and today his vest hung open, button up loose and casual, with a frankly obscene amount of buttons undone, Jayce thought as his eyes lingered momentarily on a just visible collar bone.

"Winter is the only time it's not a coin-flip for who gets to the lab first, it seems. Plus you just spent over a minute hanging up your coat," Viktor supplies casually, still not looking up from his scribbled schematics. Then he jerks up with a snap of his fingers and a look of mischievous glee that Jayce has grown pretty fond of. "Ah! I can't believe I missed a joke about you being so hot the snow should just melt off of you. Tsk, amateur hour."

Jayce short circuits. For a blissful second he wasn't thinking about the cold, effectively set on fire by the bashful flush that crept across his face then down his neck. Hot? Did he mean that? He must have meant temperature hot, not hot hot. And even if he did mean hot hot, obviously it was a joke, doesn't mean Viktor found him attractive necessarily. And even if he did it's not like- Yes of course Viktor was brilliant and charming and gorgeous but that didn't mean- Fuck, where did this come from? What is this? Viktor was his lab partner, his best friend, he shouldn't- he doesn't-

"Jayce?" Viktor interrupted his nervous spiral, suddenly much closer. He was clearly concerned, eyebrows ever so slightly drawn together and head subtly cocked to the side, eyes darting across Jayce's face. Well, maybe not clear to everyone, but clear to Jayce. Jayce reveled every time in the feeling that he was the only person in this city that could read Viktor's mind at pretty much any given moment these days. They had a rapport and synergy that had most people they met assuming they had known each other for much more than two years. That feeling didn't last long today as the chill crept back in.

"I'm fine, Vik, just a little sluggish," he tries to reassure his partner. He forces his shoulders to relax and rolls them back, making himself large in a friendly, nonthreatening way that he had honed after years of being the heir to House Talis. Viktor does not seem moved.

"Is it the thing I said about the cold? It is not a judgement, my joints ache to shit in the winter." Jayce tries to suppress his frustration at Viktor's continued prodding. He should have expected it, Viktor was incapable of being dissuaded once he had something locked in his jaws. Jayce started casually, carefully, smoothing out the blueprint in front of him for review.

"Viktor, don't." Viktor's face starts to shift, mouth curling in agitation.

"Oh I see. You talk a big game about being open and sharing, but you are unwilling to follow through on this, hm?" Jayce felt his anxiety snap. There's a panic there, as Viktor tries to wheedle his way through Jayce's mental walls. He didn't have a lot of them, but that meant he had plenty of spare resources to shore them up, make them impenetrable. He cared about Viktor a lot, he had wanted Viktor to show just some of the interest in Jayce that Jayce had shown in him, and a quiet part of him was devastated to push him out, but Viktor wasn't going to break through for this, not for a snow day as light on snow as this one. All of this he processed in half a second before his animal hind-brain recoiled, panic whip-cracking through him.

"Fucking leave it," he snapped, almost yelling, slamming the hand that hovered above the blueprint down so hard the pencil he was holding cut into his hand, the sound of impact much louder than it should have been thanks to his bulk. He could get it together, he could, but not if Viktor kept poking at it. It made Viktor jump in his peripheral vision, watching Jayce with wide eyes. This isn't a side of Jayce he had ever seen before.

Jayce was big, he knew that, he had learned to be almost overly gentle in compensation. But that learned gentleness is hard to hold fast to when he had these little episodes. The outbursts came with emotional whiplash every time as whatever calm he had carefully curated leading up to his breaking point would snap in an instant to show what had been brewing behind it. He'd scared people before, like this. He's never been prone to violence, not really, but that doesn't seem to reassure people most of the time. All Jayce could do for now was stand there and gulp down air.

"Well, I certainly hope that made you feel better," Viktor drawls. Jayce glanced up to see Viktor's eyebrows drawn together, the confused downturn of his mouth, still sticking his fingers in the wound and twisting. Jayce flinched away at the reprimand as the shame of blowing up at him crept in just as fast as the rage, and he deflated immediately. He pinched the bridge of his nose to hide his face as he stood up and took a few stumbling steps away from Viktor.

"Viktor I'm- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I just-" He caught just a glimpse of Viktor's expression relaxing, eyebrows un-creasing and mouth dropping into a small surprised 'O' shape. Whatever Viktor had expected his reaction would be, it wasn't this.

"Jayce, it's alright," Viktor's voice was all of a sudden so gentle he ached at it, the embarrassment in Jayce's chest stoked by Viktor's apparent change of heart. "I was being unfair, I saw that it was making you uncomfortable. You just… scared me a little."

Fuck. Fuck shit godsdamn it. He pales, taking another step back and clasping his hands tightly behind his back, head down. A well practiced stance that he used to come off non-threatening, submissive. Safe. He didn't usually grip with white knuckles like he did right now. This is what he was terrified of, every time he had these outbursts. And Viktor hated saying it, and Jayce hated thinking it, but in the end Viktor was fragile. Jayce had the potential to do a lot of damage, he couldn't blame Viktor for being scared, wouldn't blame him if he kept Jayce at arms length.

"I wasn't- Viktor, you have to believe I wouldn't- I wouldn't." Jayce hated the way his sentences stuttered, how it warbled as he fought back embarrassed tears. How quickly he shook apart when Viktor was the one pulling at the supports that held Jayce together. Viktor made a frustrated noise and shook his head.

"No, Jayce, I meant… Ah fuck, I am not communicating very well." Viktor stood, and made his way cautiously over to Jayce. Jayce noted with surprise that the caution didn't seem to be in self-preservation, but more as if Viktor was moving toward a startled animal, trying to keep it from skittering away into the night. The gentle sound of Viktor's cane tapping across the room was soothing, Jayce slowing his breath to move with the even repetition of the noise. Viktor stood in front of him now, and Jayce almost jumps away when Viktor gently rests his hand on Jayce's right elbow, before softly pinching the fabric and pulling, silently granting Jayce leave to relax his posture and let his arms hang at his sides. Jayce watches him wide-eyed. It was a given that he would follow Viktor's lead. It was innate, instinctual.

"You were acting unlike yourself. Even beyond what you have allowed me to see, lately. I was… worried about you. That's what I meant. I know you wouldn't." He was worried. He was scared for Jayce. His breath caught in his chest as he searched Viktor's face for any sort of dishonesty, any backpedaling. He let the rattling breath go in gentle surprise when he found none. Viktor's hand still loosely gripped Jayce's sleeve, his golden eyes watching Jayce right back. Jayce was suddenly aware of how close they stood, how quietly Viktor spoke, setting off a heated, churning feeling in his gut, his chest. It was achingly intimate, the whole rest of the world fading out of their awareness, heads tilted towards each other at just the right angle for Jayce to only need to lean down-

A cheerful rapping at their lab door interrupts the thought.

"Any chance I could borrow one of you lads?" Comes Heimerdinger's voice from the other side of the door. Jayce and Viktor's personal little dimension blinks out of existence as quickly as it formed. Viktor jerks away from him, letting go and scurrying to the door.

"I've got it," Viktor says quickly, turned so that Jayce can't see his face before he slips out.

Jayce barely hears the hum of Viktor and Heimerdinger's conversation, their footsteps disappearing down the hall. Jayce's whole body numbs, cold not from the weather, but from the absence of Viktor. The warmth had leached out of him as he had felt Viktor's body heat so close, faint as it was, and he knew deep down it would only come back if he had closed that distance, let it bleed from Viktor back into him. Silence wrapped chilly fingers around their lab, and outside the snow had turned heavy.

Gods, he's so fucked.

Chapter Text

When Viktor looks out his window and sees snow, he knows it's going to be an interesting day. He's been working with Jayce Talis for three years now, and while he doesn't necessarily have enough data to make a conclusion that would've been acceptable to the scientific community, it doesn't take a genius to be able to correlate Jayce's oddest behavior with the first snow day of the year. Viktor is prepared for it this time, he's pretty sure. The image of Jayce making himself so small and apologetic, as if Viktor could ever believe Jayce would hurt him, was burned into his brain. And so was the scant distance between the two of them, Jayce's eyes searching and uncertain, before Heimerdinger had mercifully saved Viktor from making an absolute fool of himself.

Here's the thing about being in love with Jayce Talis: It is so easy, and it is excruciating.

Jayce is bright and shining, idealistic and painfully earnest. He is open and trusting and everything Viktor is not, everything that Viktor had thought would be completely unappealing to him. Viktor is world-weary and careful, and learned quickly in Piltover to curate the exact right image, to be clean cut and polite and cunning to be taken seriously. He keeps himself to himself, trusts no one at face value. The necessary measures to survive here as a disabled kid from the undercity. With Jayce he never needed any of that. Often he found himself unable to maintain that in the face of Jayce's honest interest.

Jayce never once underestimated him. Never treated him as a lab assistant, never thought of him as less capable. Jayce gave of himself whole-heartedly, he begged for Viktor's trust and affection and clutched scraps of both like they were gold. He was brilliant and kind and he placed his life's work and his complete trust in Viktor's hands without hesitation, had kept it there for three years. Then he slowly added his doubt and his fear and all the things that he, like Viktor, had to keep hidden to survive, and trusted Viktor would hold it all gently. How could Viktor not love him? Before Jayce knew his name Viktor loved him, honest and precious in all his raw vulnerability, torn open on that ledge. It was easier than breathing to love Jayce Talis.

And here was the excruciating part: Jayce was not in love with him. Viktor believed he was Jayce's closest friend, maybe even the closest person to him overall, short of his mother. But Jayce was not in love with him. Still he wrapped Viktor into his life, gladly, eagerly. Incorporated Viktor into his work, made sure his name was on every official paper. He introduced Viktor to the Kiramman's, who were not just patrons to Jayce but almost like a second family, insisting that they were Viktor's patrons now, too. The daughter, Caitlyn, was especially like a sister to Jayce, and it was clearly important to him for her and Viktor to be close. It had been rocky at first, she was sixteen when they met after all, and teenagers are always a bit dicey, but they had warmed to each other quickly. Jayce had practically glowed when he came back to the lab and found Caitlyn sitting on Viktor's desk as he worked, peppering him with questions and cackling at his jokes.

Then there was Jayce's mother. Jayce and Ximena were as close as a mother and son could be, and in the last year, Jayce had been bringing Viktor home to her. He had been invited over to multiple dinners, now. It was a deeply touching gesture to Viktor, especially because he could tell it was a sacred rite for Jayce. Mrs. Talis was immediately fond of him, Viktor was surprised to find, doting and lovely and full of embarrassing stories and photos of Jayce through all stages of life. And when a few dinner visits in Viktor somewhat accidentally mentioned that both of parents had been dead for some time, she had immediately declared that she thought of Viktor as her own, and she would take good care of him in his mother's absence, mijo. He almost cried. He did cry this most recent fall when she presented Jayce his yearly homemade sweater, and then came back with one she had made for Viktor. Viktor was part of Jayce's life in a way so intimate it made his head spin and his heart contract.

Add that to all the casual touching Jayce was so fond of, his hand brushing and holding over Viktor's shoulder, the small of his back, wrapping loosely around his hip, and the yearning was enough to double him over and drop him dead long before any of his chronic conditions.

Clearly, Jayce loved him. Viktor had a habit of not trusting being treated kindly, but not even he could deny this. It was as much an objective truth as the grass was green and magic was real, a truth Viktor had to accept even if the concept of it still made his breath catch every time he remembered it. But Jayce was not in love with him. Which was perfectly fine, he was well accustomed to intimacy without romance (though his usual amount of late night callers had dwindled drastically since their work began), but this was a kind of domesticity he was unfamiliar with. But he could stomach it, he could enjoy being in Jayce's field of effect, could delight in watching the only intellectual equal he'd ever known at work, find comfort in Jayce's unrelenting kindness, he would just have to hope the dreadful sting of it would abate with time.

Speaking of time, Viktor was running a little slow this morning. He had spent a little bit too much time thinking about which Jayce he would be getting on this first snow of the year. He moves himself across his room, unsure if it's just the cold that's making his leg feel weaker than usual or if he's going to need to get that checked out soon, until he stands in front of his dresser. The middle drawer is exclusively sweaters, since the cold makes every inch of him ache just that little bit more. And now that he's absolutely sure he doesn't need to present nearly as manicured and clean-cut for Jayce as he usually does for a Piltie, he will be wearing them to the lab much more often. Especially with how frequently the heating went out in their lab. Like this week, for example, where it had been out for days.

He hesitates as his hand hovers over the sweater Mrs. Talis gave him, and he adjusts his grip on his cane (his beautiful, thoughtful, made just for him cane, in Talis red and gold. Like he belonged to House Talis. Like he was Jayce's) a little nervously. Would it be heavy handed or otherwise odd to wear a sweater Jayce's mother made for him when he knew Jayce would be having a bad day? Or would Jayce find it comforting, thoughtful? Oh, fuck it, it couldn't be as bad as almost kissing him last year. It's also entirely possible Jayce won't even be there today.

Now properly outfitted for a chilly lab day, he set out through the twisting halls between the university accommodations and their lab. He did not envy Jayce's ten minute outdoor walk between the lab and his apartment, but he was not particularly pleased with the length of the walk indoors either. It was hard on his leg, and he did not appreciate the looks the sound of his cane drew. And to top it off, the elevator was still out of service. Cold achy joints, a long walk, and now he got to add stairs to the trip. Great. Eventually he pushed into the lab with a small sigh of relief, a stack of journals and some loose papers in hand to begin the process of officially organizing their work into a defensible thesis, since this was technically a postgraduate program, and was surprised to find Jayce already at work.

Jayce had never been a strict adherent to the academy's uniform, but he had done away with the whole pretense today. He looked unbearably soft. Worn sweatpants, wool fingerless gloves, and a pair of fuzzy socks peeking over the ankle of his shoes. And Viktor is a little mortified when he realizes Jayce is also wearing the sweater Mrs. Talis had made. Jayce is at one of their blackboards, muttering to himself as both of them often do. He reaches up to scratch out an equation, circle it, draw a line to elsewhere. Viktor is about to think that Jayce is unusually relaxed given the circumstances, before he notices the strained grip Jayce has on the chalk, his hand trembling with the force of it. It snaps in Jayce's grip when he's done, clattering to the floor with a whispered but forceful fucking shit. Ah, there it is.

"I'm having trouble figuring out," Jayce addresses him without looking at him, a projected tone of nonchalance that Viktor would be able to tell was bullshit even without the way Jayce started nervously rubbing at the crystal on his wrist. "Whether we can deconstruct the rune somehow to manipulate individual variables, rather than having to jostle a whole bunch of other variables just the right way to get a specific reading from just one element."

Viktor pauses in thought. He moves to their workbench, drops the journals, and then joins Jayce at the board, leaning back on the spare desk they had pulled over to have a little rest when they realized they would be spending lots of time in front of it. He puts his cane between his legs, leaning on it with both hands while he reads and examines and thinks and curses.

"…We have been working on this project for three fucking years, how have neither of us thought to try finding smaller runes within this one?" Viktor wonders aloud, inwardly fuming that they had never thought of picking it apart before.

"Because we're fucking idiots?" Jayce huffs, entirely too tired and dejected sounding for Viktor to in good conscience buckle down on the deprecation.

"The rune itself has been keeping us busy enough, I suppose," Viktor supplies with a yawn, using his two handed grip on his cane as leverage to hoist himself up to sit on the desk. "Hopefully this means we've understood the acceleration rune well enough that we are simply peeling it back to find a new layer."

"I hope so," Jayce acquiesces, mirroring Viktor's yawn and rubbing at his face. Jayce's under-eye bags were bigger and darker than Viktor's. Which is unfortunate and a little concerning when you're comparing against a chronically ill and generally sickly looking person.

"How much did you beat me here by?" Viktor inquires lightly, casually. Tell me you got some sleep, tell me how you got here with the snow, is what he means. He's learned from last year, prodding at the problem directly only distresses Jayce. He remembers with a bit of shame the wild look in Jayce's eyes when he pushed it too far, a dog cornered into biting.

"Ended up crashing here last night," Jayce replies, rolling his shoulders back in the way he does when he's trying to project casual confidence. Viktor looks over his shoulder at the sofa Jayce had convinced him to allow into the lab (and by 'convince' Viktor means that Jayce flashed him a pout and the sad puppy dog eyes, and what else can Viktor do but give him whatever he wants when he looks that sweet?), and at the foot of it is a large duffle bag, with what looks like multiple sets of spare clothes and a bag of toiletries on top.

"Looks like you prepared ahead of time this year, eh?" Stupid stupid stupid. What did he just tell himself about poking at the wound directly? He does not look back at Jayce, but he feels Jayce's gaze turn to him.

"…Yeah." The admittance is a quiet sigh from Jayce. It's the first time Jayce has actually acknowledged… whatever he's going through to Viktor. Viktor keeps his casual act going, and so does Jayce as Viktor turns back to the board, brushing their shoulders together briefly.

"Smart boy." Viktor internally thrills at the sharp, quiet noise that earns him from Jayce. He couldn't say what the sound means, but it digs itself deep somewhere in Viktor's chest, fluttering around and rattling him like the clapper in a bell. Then he feels a pull on his forearm, and looks down to see that Jayce has gently pinched the sleeve of his sweater, rolling it slowly between two fingers. Viktor is very proud of himself for keeping in a distinctly un-platonic gasp.

"Mom's sweater," Jayce murmurs, looking down at the sleeve in his fingers with an expression so neutral even Viktor can't read it. It could be tiredness, or disinterest, or perhaps even serenity.

"Mhm," Viktor hums in acknowledgement. Jayce smiles at that, small and genuine. These are Viktor's favorite type of Jayce's smiles, the ones that feel personal, private, where you can just barely see the charming little gap in his teeth. Jayce can't help but smile with teeth, no matter how troubled he is. Viktor doesn't see these smiles very often, but they are always directed at him in a way that makes him lightheaded. Viktor bumps their shoulders again, just to see Jayce's smile grow at Viktor's initiation of something that could even remotely be considered affection. "We match."

And then Jayce laughs, and Viktor can breathe a sigh of relief. It's just a little one, and nowhere near the boisterous, midday-sun-warm sound that Jayce normally laughs with, but it's enough to make Viktor relax a little bit. He slides off the desk, landing his bad leg poorly. He feels a painful jolt from his ankle to his hip, and his knee almost buckles beneath him. He feels Jayce's hand close around his elbow, not to catch Viktor but to steady him. Ridiculous how gentle he can be with that much muscle and that big of hands. He knows that Viktor can keep himself on his feet, but a little extra leverage never hurts. That's a line for Viktor that only Jayce has ever been able to successfully walk.

"All good?" Jayce asks, pulling out the big sad eyes. Viktor used to hate that, the way Jayce fussed every time Viktor's body failed him, until he figured out that Jayce was just… like that. He had the same look of concern whether you collapsed to the ground or got a paper cut. Now Viktor hated how endearing his care was.

"Mm, all fine. The snow is bad for my bones," Viktor half-explained with a dismissive wave, because neither of them ever felt like it was necessary for Viktor to go into anything approaching medical-grade explanations.

"Tell me about it," Jayce commiserates with a huffed laugh. Once again, something only Jayce could get away with. Plenty of people with correctly functioning bodies thought they could build rapport by trying to relate an ordinary, one-time occurrence with Viktor's every day experience. Very rarely was it actually comparable in a way that didn't make Viktor fume. But Viktor had had three years to watch Jayce twist and contort inward every winter. They spent snow days suffering differently, but together. Viktor will give him that one.

The rest of the day feels blessedly normal. Jayce is maybe a little quieter than normal, but much more animated and present than the last few years. They even argue over methodology multiple times, like there was nothing wrong. Jayce had drawn the blinds of the single window of their lab closed before Viktor had arrived, but they could still see the light dwindle away through it. Normally Viktor would stay much later into the night, now that they were on the trail of something new, but Jayce looks terrible. Viktor very much doubts Jayce got any sleep on that couch. So, perhaps a little compromising of Viktor's work ethic is called for, when trying to coerce his partner to get some rest. He thinks it's unlikely Jayce will want to go home, seeing as it's probably still snowing out there, but he's going to try.

He yawns, and stretches dramatically, putting down his materials and rubbing at his eyes.

"Perhaps an early evening for me, hm?" Viktor tests the waters.

"Good, you don't sleep enough," Jayce agrees, not looking up from the four different pieces of reference materials he was consulting for his own scribblings.

"Think you'll pack up soon?"

"I'm going to crash here again, I think." Jayce is not particularly good at hiding the way his shoulders tense up.

Viktor sighs. That's what he thought. Which means that Jayce will likely not get any sleep whatsoever until the snow stops. Then Viktor gets a dangerous, dangerous idea. One Jayce will surely reject and may very well set back this comfortable intimacy they have cultivated. But Viktor finds himself standing and sliding to Jayce's place at the workbench, leaning against the edge of it.

"That couch does not look particularly comfortable," Viktor begins casually.

"It's not great," Jayce chuckles lightly, not looking up from his work.

"I bet my couch is better than that."

"Not a high bar, Vik."

"Come crash on mine, then." Viktor feels like he's going to throw up, which is ridiculous. He is trying to help his friend get some sleep, not propositioning him. Viktor has met his mother, for Janna's sake, this is not more forward than that.

"That's mean, Vik. Taunting a man with a backache who could catch a cold at any minute with a warm couch." Viktor tilts his head. Sometimes Jayce is so difficult it makes Viktor seethe. For all his wonderful qualities, his obliviousness got on Viktor's nerves faster than anything. Obviously, this was not a serious enough incident to actually incense Viktor, but he got himself all worked up to put himself on the line and now Jayce is making him work for it. And it's not even on purpose. He reminded himself that Jayce was not feeling like himself today.

Viktor shouldn't be surprised Jayce isn't taking hints, honestly. The deeper Jayce draws into himself, the more he needs direction rather than suggestion. Viktor takes a deep breath, biting down the annoyance before reaching over to lay his hand on the center of Jayce's chest, gently pushing him backward so Viktor can make eye contact. This is wrong, it's too intimate. Jayce's touches are casual and fleeting, and Viktor never initiates. Holding a hand over his heart, guiding, directing, these are treacherous waters.

"Jayce. Your lack of sleep at this time of year is concerning to me. If you must sleep on a couch, at least let it be one with real padding, in a room where the heating still works." Viktor keeps it matter of fact, stern, almost. He tilts his head as he watches Jayce's throat working to swallow, his eyes wide with surprise searching Viktor's face, his whole upper body tense. But Jayce has been agreeable all day, including now. Almost pliant. Viktor feels something predatory bubble in his gut as he looks down at Jayce. Viktor will lead, and Jayce will follow. It's not a question, somehow.

"I- uh- Yes, yeah, alright." Viktor squints briefly at the almost flustered reaction, Jayce's voice sweet in its surprise. Viktor doesn't like that it sounds nervous, as well. Viktor quiets whatever instinct had taken the reins for a moment. He lets his shoulders relax, his expression grow soft and considerate (though he stops short of something explicitly kind, for his own safety). He eyes a wrinkle in the sweater next to where his hand rests, and unconsciously moves his hand to smooth it away, which in turn seems to soothe Jayce. He watches Jayce's muscles relax, but more importantly, now he can feel some of them. This was a terrible idea.

"I don't want to, like, encroach on your space," Jayce says, clearly trying not to stutter, "I'll just. Stay a night or two? Maybe?" There's a very well hidden plea in the question. Viktor smiles with a small sigh.

"Till the snow stops."

Chapter Text

It's their fourth year as partners when everything starts to make sense. Mostly.

It's two days into the first snow, and heavier than Viktor's ever seen it in Piltover. So he's not surprised that Jayce isn't here in the lab with him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't worry. Jayce's stay with Viktor last year had lasted just one night, the snow letting up early the next morning, and it had been… he didn't know what. Jayce had been twitchy, perhaps the combination of the snow and being in Viktor's home (accommodations, dorm, whatever) for the first time. Jayce felt small in a way that made Viktor nervous. He was quiet, kept his hands to himself, couldn't look out the window. He was lucky that Viktor was pretty good at reading him by now, because Jayce never asked for anything. Viktor did everything he could to break through that chilly wall he had put up without seeming unusually overbearing. He lit the fireplace, sacrificed the fuzziest blanket he had that practically lived in his bed every winter, as well as the leftover take out from his favorite spot on the edge of town, the only one that served anything approximating his old favorites from the Lanes. All of these worked to a degree, but the thing that really got through to him was touch.

Viktor made sure it was never more intimate than the way he had pushed Jayce around earlier that evening, but he initiated more than he ever had. Holding his shoulder or arm as he passed him something, playfully kicking him while they talked on the couch. Where Viktor was resistant to being looked after, Jayce thrived under it. He melted the more Viktor offered, and Viktor started to fear that Jayce had gone through much of his life with people assuming he never needed for anything. Viktor supposed that in a way that could be as taxing as people assuming you needed for everything. He spent the rest of the year cradling a memory of him and Jayce sitting on opposite sides of the couch but under the same blanket, each with a mug of tea in hand and legs slightly, cautiously, tangled together. The way Jayce's face glowed as he smiled and laughed in the fire light.

While that casual affection seemed to stick over the next year, it did not prepare them for the brace. Viktor's leg had in fact been getting worse over the last few years, and his leg gave out from under him much more often. The only reason he hadn't been more injured in those falls was because Jayce was present for ninety percent of them, and had caught Viktor before he hit the ground every single time. It was maddening, Jayce treating him with that kind of urgent gentleness. Every time was too much and not enough, secure in Jayce's arms before he was hauled back to his feet and frantically examined, ushered to a chair and looked after. Though he trusted Jayce not to be infantilizing in his care, each time made him more and more frustrated until he snapped at Jayce to just fucking let go of him, and his gut twisted as Jayce flinched away. It wasn't about him, not really. It wasn't fair to lash out at Jayce, but he didn't know what else to do with the helpless rage as his body refused to just fucking work.

When Jayce had stepped away, hands behind his back with those big sad eyes, told Viktor he should go see someone about that for the umpteenth time and admitted he'd never forgive myself if you got hurt while I wasn't there, all Viktor could do was sigh in frustration. Then he went to a doctor. It was decided that an everyday brace would suffice for now, after Viktor fought against every option any more complicated or visible. When he got one, Jayce hated it. Said it was too clunky, too heavy, uncomfortable looking. Viktor had to admit he was correct on every count. Jayce spent no more than two weeks loudly commenting on how he could build one himself, and a better one at that. Which of course meant please please please let me make you one.

When Viktor agreed, he was not thinking about how intimate Jayce's construction of his cane had felt, and that it would only get worse for a piece actually attached to Viktor's body. The measurements alone were enough to kill him, Jayce with his tape measure around Viktor's ankle, his calf, his thigh. Viktor's leg slung across Jayce's lap as he worked, trying to keep it together at the sight of Jayce's hand almost completely enclosed around the thickest part of Viktor's leg. His only consolation was that Jayce seemed to have some awareness of the… precariousness of the situation, unable to meet Viktor's eye. Though Viktor probably imagined the faint blush that he caught across Jayce's face. A hopeful delusion, he was sure. The finished product was, Viktor would admit, a vast improvement. Jayce had minimized the amount of metal down to what was strictly necessary, replacing the rest with sturdy leather straps. It made the brace lighter, more adjustable, and added an almost stylish flare rather than looking like a cage around his leg.

He rubbed one of the straps nervously now as he worried about Jayce, a habit he had picked up from those first days of novelty when he had needed to remind himself it was there instead of getting startled by the metal click of the half boot whenever he so much as shuffled.

"Viktor?"

He startled badly at a voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a knock. He snapped his hand up and away from the brace like it had shocked him, the idea of someone seeing him yearning like a teenager while holding on to a piece of leather in the red and gold of House Talis was absolutely mortifying. Because Jayce was trying to kill him, apparently, by putting Viktor in the colors of his house at every opportunity. Not that anyone would know that's what was happening, of course, but Viktor would, and that was embarrassing enough.

"Come in, Ms. Young," he called back casually. She popped into the room just about half-way, some sort of course work in hand that she gripped onto nervously. Viktor and Jayce were being granted a larger lab in the next year, and finally had the resources to take on a lab assistant. Sky Young just happened to be one of their most promising applicants, so she had been around the lab a little more in recent weeks. He was pleased to have a chance to help a fellow from the undercity advance their career. He knew better than most how easy it was for them to get shut out of most other rooms at the Academy. He and Sky had never been particularly close, but they had known each other since they were both children. It was nice, to have her around.

"How can I help you, Sky?"

"Oh I- Sorry, if this is presumptuous, I just thought- um- I know Mr. Talis has been out sick for a few days, I figured I'd… See if you needed anything?" He never understood why she was so hesitant all the time. He'd seen her work, she's more than intelligent enough to make a name for herself here if she could be just that much more assertive. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back to give his spine some relief. Jayce's chair was nice for back support when his partner wasn't here.

"No, thank you. I don't think I'm going to get much done today. I need Jayce's expertise for this particular portion."

"O-oh, I sort of figured you two sort of just… matched. Multiplied the intelligence." Viktor laughed at that a little. Noted that the more she talked to him the less she stuttered. Easier to talk to someone who understands where you come from, he supposes.

"In many ways we do, but our specialties do differ. I'm more well versed in the applied sciences, so right now I find it difficult to work on theoretical physics without my theoretical physicist." My. Silly.

"Ah, I see. Well, I hope he's doing alright. They're officially calling this a blizzard, now. Supposed to last for a couple more days."

Viktor worked very hard to keep the sharp breath he took quiet, keep himself from tensing up too visibly. If Jayce did poorly in snow, he couldn't imagine he did well in a blizzard.

"Perhaps I should go see if he needs anything, before the worst of it hits," Viktor says, aiming for nonchalance. He leans on his cane and pushes himself up to stand, stretching briefly. One because he's trying for casual, and two because he was starting to ache hunched over that desk. He turns toward Sky, moving to his coat that he keeps here just in case.

"Oh are you- are you sure that's a good idea? With your- I mean- It's going to be pretty slippery and-" He bit back the urge to snap at her as she glances down at his leg.

"I will manage, Ms. Young. I have not made it for some twenty odd years without ever having to walk in a snowstorm," he snarls, harsher than he would normally be, but there's a blizzard and Jayce is unaccounted for and his leg is starting to hurt from the cold. She's trying to be considerate, he tells himself. No need to take her head off.

"Can I- the Academy has a couple of those fortified carriages, for the snow, maybe I could- Could requisition one for you?" To her credit, she seems almost unphased by his lashing out. This time he sees her make a conscious effort to not look at his leg, and that will do for now.

"That would do nicely, yes." He works very hard to make his tone as gentle as possible, to compensate for earlier. She nods, starts to slip away. "Thank you, Sky," He adds as she's just out the door. He always forgets that part.

Sky either has more assertiveness or more political pull in the Academy than Viktor thought, because in just over half an hour Viktor has been deposited in front of Jayce's apartment, the bulky carriage trundling away and quickly disappearing into the snow. He very, very carefully pulls himself up the front steps of the building, very aware that the metal half-boot of his brace hitting a sheet of ice would be disastrous. The heavy coat and scarf that looked like it was swallowing Viktor whole did little to keep out the cold, so he shivered and sighed with relief as he stepped into the building. Jayce was a few floors up, if his memory from the one or two visits when Jayce would forget something before going to his mother's is correct. And mercifully the elevators here seemed in good repair.

After managing to get only a little lost, Viktor successfully finds himself in front of Jayce's door. He raps his knuckles on the door a couple times, waits a bit, and is met with only silence. So he tries again, this time with a worried Jayce?, and is a little distressed that the only response is a series of thumps. Maybe footsteps? But they stop well before the door, and Viktor is still just standing there, hoping Jayce is alright.

He pulls out the spare key Jayce had given him, fiddling nervously with it. They had swapped keys not long ago, at Jayce's suggestion. Viktor wondered now if it had been in preparation for what they knew was supposed to be a colder and snowier winter than they had seen in recent years. It had paid off at least once, when Viktor was having a particularly bad flare up day and could send Jayce back to his room to pick up some materials he had left behind. Of course Jayce also returned with a heating pad, which Viktor had grumbled about on principle but had been extremely glad of. Now he wondered if it was a gross overstep to just let himself into his partner's home. But he remembers how he found Jayce that first night that Hextech started, with Jayce standing on a ledge and a letter on the table. Panic started to twist in his chest and up his throat as he remembered that there's a lot more to lose than his pride.

He knocks one more time (Jayce? It's Viktor), and decides he's more worried than careful when he doesn't get anything back. He opens the door carefully, like he's worried about spooking him, and steps in. Jayce's apartment has a similar sense of cramped disarray as Viktor's, though Viktor's brand of maximalism was a staunch refusal to let go of childhood projects, various tchotchkes, and almost anything that had been useful at one point, while Jayce's was clearly about thirty projects brewing all at once that spilled across every wall and surface. It would be charming, if Viktor weren't so worried. Very Jayce.

"Jayce?" He called again. Please please please.

"V?" Came a rough voice in response. Viktor sighed loudly in relief, finding no reason to try and act less concerned than he is. He follows quickly toward where he heard the voice, leading him into Jayce's bedroom. While most of the room was tidy enough, the bed was in total disarray, an excess of blankets and pillows thrown about over twisted sheets. Clearly Jayce hadn't been sleeping well, but he wasn't there.

"Over here," Jayce's hoarse voice came again. Viktor whipped his head around to find an en suite bathroom, with Jayce on the floor, half leaned over the toilet. Viktor feels like he floats into the doorway as the worry takes over. Jayce looks terrible, sweaty and shaky and… shirtless, for some reason. This is a bad time for Viktor to be distracted. Jayce gives him a once over, considering Viktor's winter wear and the snow that's settled on it and drawing quick conclusions.

"Do not tell me you fucking walked here," Jayce hisses. Viktor is almost offended that Jayce is clearly worrying about him right now when he looks anxious to the point of sickness.

"Of course not, Sky found me a carriage," Viktor dismisses with a wave as he starts peeling off his winter wear, suddenly aware of how high Jayce had cranked the heating in here. Jayce sat back as Viktor took off his coat, looking a little bit more like himself, though Viktor couldn't imagine what about this was distracting enough to cut through whatever stupor he'd found himself in. Viktor was in just the shirt and the pants of the academy uniform, and the coat had made it rumpled, the shirt hanging loosely off of his bony frame as the trip over had started to pull the tucked hem out of his waistband. He shucks his coat, scarf, and gloves onto the bathroom counter, before he sits down next to Jayce, using his cane to keep him steady as he crouched one-legged to avoid putting any weight on his bad leg before sitting back.

"Throwing up?" Viktor asks. He addresses Jayce like he's collecting variables for an equation. Had he actually been sick and Viktor had just… Left him to handle it on his own? No, more likely whatever anxious distress Jayce was experiencing was inducing some degree of nausea. Jayce watches him incredulously the whole time, and takes a second to catch up with the question. Good. Viktor will happily take him confused over panicked.

"…More like dry heaving, I'd need to actually be eating to throw up- I'm sorry, Viktor, what are you doing here?" Jayce speeds through the answer to Viktor's question, like he was getting it out of the way so he could ask a question of his own. Viktor freezes up a little bit, remembering that this has the potential to be a serious breach of boundaries. An uncharacteristic stuttering quality creeps into Viktor's voice.

"I- I mean, there is a blizzard out there and I know- I just figured I would check-"

"V, were you… worried about me?" Jayce seems completely surprised, looking at him with wide eyes. Had Viktor really come across so callous all these years that Jayce couldn't imagine Viktor would care?

"Of course," Viktor says simply, a little too stunned for anything else but earnest honesty. Jayce just watches him, eyes scanning across Viktor's face. There's another one of those moments, those fucking moments where Viktor can't tell what's happening, where it's just Jayce and Viktor and very little between them. It's overwhelming, Jayce allowing him this quiet closeness, making Viktor fight the urge to reach out and grab him by the face and kiss him senseless. He clears his throat before that urge can win.

"You said you were not eating?" Viktor asks instead. Jayce blinks, swallows.

"N- not really. It's… Hard, even on a normal snow day. This… this is just…" He shivers. "It's all I can do to get out of bed."

Viktor eyes him for just a little longer, watching the anxiety tighten its grip on Jayce. He feels his mouth curl in agitation. That won't do.

"Take a moment and then come out to the kitchen. I will find something palatable and then guilt you into eating it." He stood up before Jayce could protest, and when Jayce nodded Viktor thoughtlessly reached down to give him an approving pat on the head. What the fuck was that? He turned as quickly as possible to keep Jayce from seeing the bright red flush he felt race across his face, his skin pallid enough that any blush was stark against his cheeks, as well as to keep himself from seeing Jayce's reaction. Whatever face Jayce was making behind him as he headed for Jayce's kitchen would've haunted Viktor for weeks, turning it over and over in his mind until he had deciphered it a million different ways. No, much better that Viktor never sees it.

Viktor rolls up his sleeves as he starts to rifle through Jayce's cupboards, the rucked up cuffs practically hanging from his elbows, and his cane hooked through a cabinet handle. He hears the shuffling of feet and the scraping of a moving chair behind him as he pops the fridge open, signalling that Jayce had joined him. Good. There's not much in Jayce's fridge, but Viktor does spot a plate of food under a sheet of plastic wrap. The plate is one he recognizes, from the many dinners he joined at Mrs. Talis' house. He sucks his tongue against the back of his teeth to make a disapproving sound as he pulls the completely untouched plate out.

"Ximena Talis made you food and you have not so much as touched it. An insult, frankly, when her cooking is so incredible," Viktor chides lightly, trying to unstick Jayce from at least some of his melancholy. Jayce gives him a weak chuckle, but Viktor can hear the hollowness of it. He's doing it for Viktor's sake. Viktor lights the stove, finding some cookware to warm up some dinner.

"She knows that you get like this, then?" Viktor asks, trying to keep it casual even as he touches on what he knows is a sensitive subject.

"Yeah," Jayce responds simply.

"Why not stay with her then? I am sure she wouldn't mind."

"That's… It makes it worse. For me," Jayce confesses quietly. "She gets even more withdrawn than I do in the winter. Practically unresponsive when it's too cold. I can't- I can't take care of her, the way she needs. When we're both like this."

"I see." Viktor is glad he's not facing Jayce right now. He can see perfectly in his mind the dismayed slump of Jayce's shoulders, the hand covering his face in frustration and shame. It's an interesting revelation, that Mrs. Talis suffers a similar affliction with the same trigger. A new layer to this trauma Viktor has spent four years trying to unravel.

"I'm a fucking coward, running from her like that just so I can feel better," Jayce's voice is practically a whisper, and that's as much as Viktor can take. He turns off the stove with a frustrated kind of force, moving quickly and purposefully to turn and pull a chair to sit in front of Jayce, cane left behind in his haste to close the distance. And there he was, in the exact sad position Viktor had feared.

"Look at me," Viktor instructed gently, reaching out to tug at Jayce's wrist and pull his hand away from his face. Jayce swallowed hard, looking like a chastised puppy. Viktor took a deep breath and summoned as much of his courage as he could, squeezing Jayce's wrist. He had never been good with sentimentality. The vulnerability of sincerity made his stomach twist in knots, even when he's not embarrassingly in love with the subject of his honesty.

"You are not a coward, Jayce Talis. We have been friends for four years, and every winter the only thing I have found that helps you through it is me reaching for you, gently pulling you out of it. It is an unfortunate situation, but I cannot imagine a better way to drive you right back to the ledge I found you on than to to be left to waste away in it, in the silence and the dark, you and your mother haunting each other until spring." Jayce curled in on himself, silently rejecting the idea and turning his head away from Viktor even as Viktor saw his shoulders begin to shake. Viktor didn't know what to do if Jayce started crying. He thinks it's might break his heart.

"Jayce," Viktor insisted again, dipping his head to make Jayce look at him. Jayce still tries to turn his head away, trying to hide the mist over his eyes that came before tears. Viktor unthinkingly reaches out with the hand not still holding onto Jayce's wrist to hold onto Jayce's jaw, turning his head toward him. He doesn't understand what instinct has been guiding his hands tonight, like they know exactly how to direct and comfort Jayce, but right now he's glad of it as Jayce follows his gentle guidance with no resistance, looks up at him on the edge of relief.

"She wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself like that, and you know this, yes?" Jayce nods, sighing sweetly as the tears seem to abate. "Tell me you know that."

"I know that." Jayce's voice is hoarse, but honest.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, good. Now eat. Then you can go back to bed," Viktor instructs, getting up to grab the food he hopefully didn't need to heat up again, before Jayce reaches out and gently holds him back by his arm.

"Would you stay?" It's the softest he's ever heard Jayce's voice and it makes Viktor ache. A warm and honey-thick hurt so strong it replaces the everyday pain. It's so much worse than the pain, every internal organ squeezing and twisting with it. So much so that it unfortunately overrides the survival instinct to not stay the night with your partner who you're in love with, especially when you know him well enough that you know this is going to end with him pulling you into bed with him, and not in the way you'd hope for. No, is the answer he should give, but I'll come check on you tomorrow.

"As long as you need me," he says instead, and internally berates himself for how soft, how genuine it sounds, for letting himself stare at the way it makes Jayce relax fully for the first time in days, perhaps. For letting himself think for just a moment that it means something.

Viktor gently shakes out of Jayce's grip, gets him fed, even convinces him to take a shower after Viktor is handed a soft, sure to be oversized, stack of clothes to sleep in. And he is so glad Jayce is not in the room as he slips into a pair of well worn shorts, and a soft maroon sleep shirt that practically eats him alive. The collar is distended from use enough that Viktor can't stop it from slipping off one of his shoulders, no matter how much he would prefer to hide the sickly jut of it. Jayce was beautiful and healthy, and Viktor avoided letting him think about his own conditions and the resulting shape of his body as often as he could. It would only make both of them upset. But now with his shoulder exposed, and the gentle warp of his bad leg banded with bruises from the brace in full view as the brace is set to the side, there was really no way to avoid it. He needed the time Jayce was in the shower to steel himself for Jayce seeing him.

When Jayce returned from the shower (and Viktor had spent no time ideating on that in any capacity, of course), he paused the drying of his hair to give Viktor a once over. Jayce looked away very quickly, turning to throw the towel back into the bathroom. Likely aware that Viktor didn't appreciate people focusing on his bad leg for too long, if at all. Jayce ran a hand through his hair, which Viktor had never really seen completely without product and messy.

"I'll take the couch," Jayce offers quickly. "You're gonna feel like shit if you try to sleep on that thing."

"I do not plan on kicking you out of your own bed when I am here to look after you." This is exactly the argument he expected. He'd at least put up a bit of a fight, until Jayce offered the inevitable solution.

"I guess we could- I mean- It's a pretty big bed, and I usually sleep right up against the wall anyway, maybe we could. Share? Or something? If that's alright with you of course I mean I don't want to presume or make you uncomfortable-"

"Jayce," Viktor interrupted, fondly noting the way Jayce rubbed the back of his neck when he was flustered. What about this had Jayce flustered? Viktor was the one hopelessly obsessed, and he was holding it together quite well considering he was about to share a bed with a man he could never have, thank you very much. "I don't mind sharing at all."

Viktor could not tell what the face Jayce made at that agreement was. Really, truly, no idea. It had plenty of energy, Viktor just didn't know what that energy was. He'd spent years learning Jayce's every expression and gesture and inflection. Not knowing what Jayce was thinking scared him a little. He'd gotten very good at reading him, knowing him that it had become a completely foreign feeling to know they were not completely in tune.

After a minute or two of awkward shuffling and muttered after you's, Viktor found himself very glad to be wearing shorts as he nestled under exceedingly warm and plush blankets. He and Jayce were arranged rather awkwardly, with Viktor's back to Jayce who was indeed pressed against the wall his bed was shoved up against. Viktor was sure they were both trying not to make the other uncomfortable. Of course, Viktor had the added layer of being very much at risk of being found out. The now familiar pang of the yearning for domesticity curled in his stomach at the simple image of Viktor's cane propped against Jayce's nightstand.

But this wasn't about him, in the end. He came here to look after Jayce, to see that he made it through the blizzard as comfortably as possible. Alive. So he took another deep breath, steeled himself to make himself vulnerable once again, and turned over so he could face Jayce. Jayce seemed to startle a bit at that, but Viktor kept his nerve.

"What do you need?" Viktor asked quietly, more of a whisper than anything. Jayce's eyes went wide, hazel irises almost swallowed by pupils blown out in the dark. He was very pretty, like this. Of course, Jayce being a pretty boy was not news to anyone, it was objective enough that he probably had been called that as both a compliment and an insult. But it was different, like this. Dark hair splayed loosely across his pillow, tanned face lit gently by a distant humming street lamp outside a window across the room. He practically glowed a burnished gold as he directed those pleading dark eyes at Viktor. It was a gentle, reverent pretty, like a stained glass window or a butterfly you have to hold your hand back from trying to touch.

Jayce fidgeted nervously with the edge of a blanket in that fuzzy warm light, a tell Viktor knows well to mean that Jayce is deep in consideration. Then, seemingly making a decision, Jayce silently, hesitantly, reaches a hand toward Viktor, his arm only half extended and fingers reaching but unsure. Please come closer, the gesture screamed.

Everyone assumed Viktor hated to be touched. Which he understood, he tended to flinch away from it, keep a healthy few feet from everyone (except for Jayce, over the last few years). And he was happy to let people think that, because it was easier to explain. The truth was that Viktor was very fond of touch, had reveled in the easy affection he and Jayce had come to share. More than was perhaps acceptable, after depriving himself of it for so long. His general aversion stemmed not from a distrust of other people, but a distaste for his own body. He went to great lengths to disguise it, cleverly tailoring his own clothes to be loose but not baggy, keeping his more intimate exploits impersonal, as clothed as he could get away with, with the lights off. He knew well enough that he was good looking, his appearance and charm were a reliable enough back up plan when his intelligence failed him in a social setting, but touch revealed the bony shape of him, the deteriorating state of his body. It felt humiliating, it felt sad. He didn't want to see a person's disgust, and he wanted their pity even less. But Jayce was different. Jayce had always been different. So Viktor inched himself just a little closer. Permission.

Jayce's arm moved quickly, as if not giving himself room to take it back, and scooped around Viktor's back until his hand could push under the hip that sat against the bed and grip it, hauling Viktor closer to him one-handed with ease. Viktor was aware Jayce could lift him like he was weightless. The one time Jayce had truly overstepped a boundary was when he had jokingly picked up and moved Viktor bodily to the door in an attempt to get him to go home and get some sleep. He had succeeded, but only because Viktor was so pissed at him he had to just go home. Not before chewing him out and smacking him with his cane, of course. But this was different, a gentleness and care to it that made Viktor hardly notice how much he usually hates being thrown around. He swallowed down an undignified sound, a deep and old yearning to be touched more than fleetingly finally indulged, and by the person that longing had been centered around for almost half a decade, from the moment they'd met.

Jayce left a little bit of space between them, but it was still mind numbingly close for Viktor. He could feel the warm huffs of Jayce's breath, Jayce's arm resting on Viktor's hip and hand moved to the small of his back, spanning almost the entire length of his waist in a way that felt almost obscene. Viktor tensed up a little, scared to actually let himself have this, when he knows this means something different for him than it does for Jayce, when he's fantasized about what it would be like to fall asleep with Jayce wrapped around him for years. Jayce starts to recoil a little bit, eyes wide as he notices Viktor's hesitation. Viktor instinctually reaches out to grab Jayce's elbow as his arm starts to move away, just to keep him in place.

"You're alright, you're ok," Viktor murmurs, like he was calming a startled animal. Viktor decides that resisting his yearning is hurting more than helping, chooses to let Jayce move him and find comfort where he can without Viktor's unreturned feelings holding him back. Jayce relaxes a little, to Viktor's relief, then pushes his other arm under Viktor's waist where it presses into the mattress in a way that makes Viktor gasp quietly, but also adds an uncomfortable curve to his spine. "Just… Just stay right here, give me a second."

Viktor twists behind himself in a way that twinges his back a little, to pull two pillows to him, one that goes on top of the pillow he's already using to straighten out his spine a little, and another that went between his knees to give his bad leg a break. Jayce watched him appraisingly, like he was taking notes as any researcher of his caliber would, before cautiously lifting his head to share Viktor's pillow, shifting the arm under Viktor to rest his elbow under the side of Viktor's chest, further straightening his spine. Viktor sighs, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the gradual ease of the ache, the silent care of the gesture, the guilty relief of being touched. Held warm and secure, practically right against Jayce.

"Better?" Jayce asks with a soft smile. Viktor returns it warmly, instinctually eyes still half shut in satisfaction. Jayce always knew exactly what he needed, when he needed, how much he needed. Except maybe how much he needed Jayce right now.

"Mm, much. Now," He shuffles a little, until he finally feels fully cushioned and supported. "What is this about, Jayce?"

Jayce sighs, his eyes slipping shut. Then he pulls Viktor even closer, ducking to tuck his head under Viktor's chin, face against Viktor's throat and arms wrapping fully around his waist, Viktor's hips pressed against Jayce's stomach. It's so soft and warm it melts Viktor from the inside out, like an ember swallowed that leaves a warm buzz before it burns a hole straight through you. Viktor returns the affection after only a moments hesitation, snaking an arm under Jayce's neck and around his shoulders, trying not to shudder as he returns the embrace.

"Talk to me," Viktor almost pleads, his other hand reaching out mindlessly to card through soft hair, softer than even Viktor had imagined. Jayce hums contentedly, melting further against Viktor, holding him closer, and any thoughts Viktor might have had about how uncomfortable his own body must be pressed against Jayce like this dissipate. How could that be true when Jayce seems so happy to be here? When Viktor felt so warm and safe? When they fit together like they were made to do so?

Jayce sighs against Viktor, and the domestic, almost adoring nature of it makes the secret pocket in his mind where all his self-indulgent thoughts about Jayce burst open, burning across the inside of his chest. The loudest, scariest thought being what if it's not just me. What if Jayce feels it too? He needed to pack that back away, for his own sanity. But he'll let himself pretend, just for tonight. He feels more than sees Jayce take a shuddering breath.

"When I was a kid, there was a blizzard."