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Chapter Text

Viktor knocked on the door and then almost turned around and walked away again immediately.

He couldn't do this. It was too terrifying.

It was too important not to do it.

He was going to fuck it up.

He was going to throw up.

He couldn't do this.

He had to do this.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself that this was the whole point, that he had to earn this gift, and if he had to suffer for it, then that only made the gift more precious.

But he still might throw up.

The door opened, and Ximena lit up. "Viktor, querido, what a lovely surprise!" She glanced past him curiously. "Is Jayce with you?"

"No, he's at the lab today," Viktor said, trying to swallow down the snakes that were writhing in his stomach and trying to climb up his throat to choke him. "I, ah. I wanted to speak with you alone, if you have a little time?"

"Of course!" She opened the door wider. "Come in, let me get you some coffee. Or tea?"

She will keep offering until you accept something, Jayce had said the first time Viktor had been brought to meet her, years and years ago, when he and Jayce had been only friends. It was cultural, Jayce had explained. It had made Viktor uneasy at first, a clash of cultures. In Zaun, it was also polite to offer refreshment to a visitor -- but it was the visitor's responsibility to decline, to refuse to be a burden on the host.

He was used to it now, though. "I spend nights dreaming of your coffee," he said, and almost meant it. Ximena's coffee was never bitter, the way the coffee in the lab always was, even when it was fresh. Viktor hadn't figured out if it was the bean or the roast or the brewing or only that Ximena's coffee would never shame her by being a disappointment to her guests.

She laughed lightly and accused him of flattery, and not for the first time, Viktor could see the stunning beauty she must have been, thirty years ago; could understand why Jayce's father had fallen in love at first sight, just watching her walk across a market square. She led Viktor into the kitchen and shooed him into a chair at the table when he offered to help, and then set about brewing coffee and putting an assortment of treats on a plate because there was no such thing as "just coffee" in Ximena's house, and she had despaired since their first meeting at his slenderness.

He waited, nervously fiddling with a button on his vest and his own fingers and the handle of his cane. He rehearsed the words he had come to say in his head so fixedly that he startled when she set the plate on the corner of the table between his chair and hers.

She turned the plate to align to some standard he could not discern and then brought the coffee, not in stained and haphazard mugs, like Viktor and Jayce both used in the lab to gulp down the large quantities of caffeine necessary to keep them going, but in delicate porcelain cups resting in perfectly-matched saucers. This coffee was meant to be sipped slowly. Savored.

She had already added half a spoonful of sugar and barely enough cream to make it opaque, which was all that Viktor allowed himself to add to Ximena's coffee, despite his rather infamous sweet tooth and the pale, sugary sludge he usually made in the lab. He sipped, and sighed as if it was the finest ambrosia. "Perfection," he assured her, and she smiled and finally sat to drink her own coffee.

"Have a cookie," she urged.

Jayce had assured him that coffee alone would satisfy Ximena's cultural obligations as a host and that her insistence on feeding Viktor was purely her own impulse. She always tried to stuff as much food as possible into him whenever he visited.

Usually, he refused, and they would dance back and forth for the duration of the visit while Jayce rolled his eyes at both of them. But he was too nervous, this time, and didn't quite know how to combine that dance with the old-fashioned tradition he was about to invoke. So he picked up a cookie and took a tiny bite, letting the sugar and butter melt on his tongue.

He didn't dare eat the whole thing, though. He was still afraid he was about to throw up.

"Now, then," Ximena said, smoothing a napkin across her lap and fidgeting gently with her cup, turning the handle to some precise angle in front of her, perhaps to align somehow with the plate. "What can I do for you, darling?"

As if she hadn't already done more for Viktor than he could ever hope for.

He swallowed back his nerves and chased them with another sip of coffee. "Mrs. Talis," he began.

"Viktor," she chided warmly. "I thought we had gotten past Mrs. Talis. You are my son's partner; you are like my own son, you must call me Ximena."

Viktor summoned a ghost of a smile. "The occasion may call for some slight formality," he admitted.

"Oh?" Her eyes sparkled. She knows, Viktor thought, because of course she knew. She had known before he and Jayce did that they were in love. And they had been together -- romantically -- for almost two years. She must have been expecting this for some time. "Go on, then."

Viktor swallowed again. "Mrs. Talis," he said again. Carefully. He had rehearsed these words, over and over, testing them for fault and nuance and meaning. He wasn't a poet. Words were difficult, and this was very, very important. "I wish, very much, to ask Jayce to marry me. But for the love he bears you, in good conscience, I first must ask your blessing."

Tears were already forming in her eyes. She reached across the table and captured his hand between her own. "Viktor, mijo," she said, smiling and weeping. "You are so good to my son. You believed in him when no one else did -- not even me, to my eternal shame."

"Mrs. Ta-- Ximena," Viktor tried, but she shook her head.

"No, I know that he has forgiven me," she assured him. "But you believed in him from the beginning. You helped him. Supported him."

Viktor could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He didn't deserve this praise. He would not have supported Jayce if he hadn't thought it would help his own career. "No more than he supported me in turn," he demurred.

"As it should be, with partners," Ximena said firmly, and squeezed his hand. "And since you two finally got together, he's never been more happy and content. And I think, I hope, that the same is true for you."

Viktor smiled, feeling the blush climb from his cheeks down to his neck. "No one has ever made me happier than Jayce," he agreed. That had been true even before they'd begun dating. Merely being Jayce's friend and work partner had given Viktor the happiest years of his life, even allowing for the exquisite pain of being in love with a man he'd thought he could never have.

Ximena returned his smile and used her napkin to dab at her tears. "Of course, of course you have my blessing, querido. Nothing would delight me more." She stood and pulled him into an embrace, and kissed each of his cheeks. "When will you ask him?"

"Very soon," Viktor said, feeling almost giddy in the wake of his fading nervousness. He had expected this to be more of an ordeal. He had been prepared for it to take days, even weeks, to earn her blessing. Maybe the stories he'd heard as a boy about the trials of a suitor had been exaggerated. "Tonight, if I can pry him from the lab."

She grinned like a girl half her age. "Good. Do not waste time. You will both come and dine with me in a week, yes?"

"If he says yes," Viktor agreed.

She scoffed. "Of course he will say yes. If he tries to say no, call me and I will tell him that he is being very foolish."

Viktor chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Ximena."

She tutted at him. "No," she commanded. "Now, you will call me Mamá."

"If-- After he says yes," Viktor agreed, and allowed her to hug him again.

Chapter Text

Jayce was, of course, still in the lab when Viktor returned, which made perfect sense, because he'd expected to be at Ximena's for a much larger portion of the day, and had made his excuses accordingly.

"That was quick," Jayce said, glancing up from where he was frowning at something on his computer screen. "Get all your errands done already?"

"Yes, they went much more smoothly than I had expected," Viktor said. He detoured around Jayce's desk on the way to his own, bending to drop a kiss on Jayce's head and peer at the models on the screen. "Did we receive new data while I was out?"

"No, I'm trying to re-sort the data we already have to decide if a higher frequency might result in a more stable resonance." Jayce caught Viktor's hand before he could continue on his way and reeled him back in for a proper kiss. Viktor gave it easily, and lingered to let Jayce nuzzle at his throat. "You smell nice," Jayce said, and leaned back to look Viktor over. "You look nice. Did you dress up for your errands?"

Viktor rolled his eyes. "Yes, because I always dress up to go to the bakery."

Jayce perked up. "Did you bring me cupcakes?"

"I did buy cupcakes," Viktor admitted. "But left them at home."

"Spoilsport," Jayce pouted. "What's with the fancy duds, then, if you weren't dressing up for Jeanette at the bakery?"

"I thought we might go out for dinner," Viktor suggested.

"That sounds nice," Jayce said. "We haven't gone out for a while. Did you bring fancy duds for me, too, or are we pretending that you're my sugar daddy?"

Viktor laughed and settled into his own workstation. "You literally keep a suit here for random visits from investors and wealthy alumni."

"Ooh, the suit. Maybe I'm the sugar daddy, then."

"You are ridiculous," Viktor said, and made sure his alarm was set so they wouldn't be late for their reservations.

"This is nice," Jayce observed as they took their seats, looking around curiously. He hadn't been here before, and wondered how Viktor had heard of the place, much less decided to bring Jayce here.

The lights were dim and the conversations surrounding them were a low murmur, lending the place a feeling of secretive intimacy. The flowers on the table were beautiful and fresh and the candle was real instead of a flickering LED. The place settings were elegant and there were more utensils and glasses than Jayce quite knew what to do with. Tall windows along one wall revealed a stunning view of the city, and a patio where a band was playing soft jazz, barely audible from indoors, for a sparsely-populated dance floor. "This is very nice. What's the occasion?"

"Must there be an occasion?" Viktor wondered, somewhat disingenuously.

"For someplace this nice? Yes."

Viktor smiled secretively and took a sip of his water before finally spilling the beans. "Our proposal won the Distinguished Innovators grant."

Jayce stared at him. "What? Really? When did they announce it?"

"It will not be official until Monday," Viktor said, "but Heimerdinger is on the board, and he gave me a heads-up yesterday. He thought we should be warned to prepare for photographers and an interview."

"And you didn't tell me?" Jayce demanded. He was almost too shocked to be happy. They'd been working toward that grant for years.

"I wanted to surprise you with it. To celebrate." Viktor waved at the elegance surrounding them and then reached for Jayce's hand.

Jayce slipped his fingers through Viktor's and squeezed carefully, warmth and joy beginning to flood through him. "We did it," he whispered. "Oh my god, V, we did it!"

Viktor grinned, the sort of uncomplicated and genuinely happy smile that always filled Jayce with delight. "We did it," he agreed softly.

"I never would have gotten my research off the ground without you," Jayce said earnestly, overcome with a sudden intense surge of the gratitude and appreciation that he always felt for his partner.

"And I never would have thought to take such a novel approach to begin with," Viktor countered as he always did, his eyes soft and fond. "We are much more, together, than we could ever have been separately."

"In many ways," Jayce agreed, and lifted their joined hands so he could kiss Viktor's knuckles. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you so much."

Viktor flushed lightly, as if even after nearly two years he was amazed and thrilled to hear those words. "I love you, too."

Later, tipsy on wine, and dizzy with having convinced Viktor to dance with him, and more than a little horny from making out in the cab on the way home, Jayce stumbled through their door, laughing. He pushed Viktor against the wall and pressed his mouth against the sharp corner of Viktor's jaw, his hands sneaking their way through and around the entirely too many layers of clothing Viktor had on.

Viktor hummed and tilted his head to capture Jayce's mouth against his own, but gently pulled Jayce's hands from their explorations. "Not yet," he murmured against Jayce's lips. "We have not had dessert yet. Cupcakes, remember?"

"I don't want cupcakes," Jayce said, trying to nuzzle his way down under Viktor's collar. "I just want you."

Viktor ducked out from under Jayce's arm and laughed at whatever Jayce's face was doing. "Come," he said, holding out one hand for Jayce to take. "You will have me soon, I promise. But I am not ready for our date to end, yet."

Jayce shook his head, smiling fondly even as he let Viktor pull him toward the kitchen. "And you call me an incurable romantic," he teased.

"You are," Viktor said firmly, "entirely too sentimental. That does not mean I cannot be a little romantic, from time to time."

"You like it when I'm sappy," Jayce informed him, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

"Sometimes," Viktor admitted, and his cheeks were turning red again. He nudged Jayce onto a barstool at the counter and went to get the bakery box from the far side of the kitchen. "When I made our reservations for tonight," he said, his back to Jayce as he took out a plate, "I did not know about the grant, yet."

Something in the sudden seriousness of Viktor's tone made Jayce lean forward and pay attention. "You didn't know," he repeated softly. Viktor was fussing with arranging the cupcakes, his head bowed, and Jayce wanted to see his face more than anything. "Why did you make those reservations, then?"

Viktor glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sparking, his mouth curved not quite enough to be a smile, but nearly. "You know why," he said.

Butterflies erupted in Jayce's stomach, and his arms suddenly ached to have Viktor in them, because he did know. "Yes." Of course he knew. "But I want to hear you say it."

"Needy," Viktor murmured, a gentle taunt that set Jayce on fire. He waited, because he knew -- of course he knew -- that Viktor would give him anything and everything he asked for. Always.

Viktor crossed the kitchen and set the plate of cupcakes between them, then leaned his arms on the counter, still entirely too far away. Jayce couldn't for an instant look away from Viktor's glorious golden eyes, could barely blink.

"I do not have your facility for words," Viktor said, quietly intent. "I have tried so many times to figure out how to explain what you mean to me. Every attempt has fallen flat, far short of the goal." He reached for Jayce's hand, squeezing it so tightly that Jayce could almost hear the creaking of the bones.

He didn't care. He squeezed back just as hard.

"Science is ninety-nine percent failure," Viktor said. "I do not know what the failure rate is for words, but I think it must also be very high. Any truly worthy endeavor must involve a great deal of difficulty. So I will continue to try. And I can only beg you to stay with me, to pledge yourself to me, so that if I should ever stumble across that rare and shining moment of success, that you will finally, truly, understand exactly how much I love you."

Jayce impatiently wiped the tears from his eyes with his free hand, quietly furious that they were blurring Viktor's beauty. "I understand you just fine, V," he said, not even caring that it came out rough and rusty, corroded by the squeeze of his throat.

Viktor smiled a little. "Perhaps," he allowed. "You have always understood me far better than anyone ever has. Better than I could ever have hoped for." He walked carefully around the end of the bar, not releasing Jayce's hand until he was standing between Jayce's knees, only inches separating them and still entirely too far away. "Jayce Talis, with the love and blessing of your family and every ounce of devotion and loyalty within me: will you marry me?"

An actual sob escaped Jayce's throat and he couldn't stand even a breath of space between them any longer. He pulled Viktor into his arms, buried his face against he curve of Viktor's neck, and gasped out, "Gods, Viktor, yes, yes, of course I will. Of course."

Viktor's arms surrounded him and he let out another soft sob, and then something that was almost a laugh, because of course Viktor had beat him to proposing. Viktor was trembling, and Jayce pulled them even more closely together. "Yes, of course," he said again. "You've got me. I'm all yours."

They clung together for a long moment while Jayce tried to pull himself together and stop crying so that he could kiss his fiancé, and then a little bit of phrasing trickled through into his brain. "Wait," he said, lifting his head. "With the blessing of my family? What does that--" There weren't really many things it could mean, were there? "Did you ask my mother before you asked me? Is that were you were all morning?"

Viktor laughed, a little watery himself. "I did ask for her blessing, yes. She is likely waiting with her phone in hand for the news."

Jayce coughed out a chuckle. "No question about it. I'm sure she was utterly charmed. She didn't do something awful like give you my dad's ring to give me or anything, did she?"

"Oh! Ring!" Viktor pulled away, much to Jayce's dismay, but only far enough to grope through his pockets and produce a small box. "Not your father's," he reassured quickly. "I should have had it ready," he chastised himself, "but I was too worried about--"

Jayce darted in to kiss the ridiculous and unnecessary explanation from Viktor's lips. "It was perfect," he said, "you were perfect, don't apologize for any of it." Then he kissed Viktor again, just to be sure, slower and deeper and devouring, and when he drew back again, Viktor looked just a little dazed and very turned on, exactly what Jayce wanted. "Now," he said, "show me."

Viktor opened the box without saying anything and handed it to Jayce, and oh, it was not at all what he'd imagined but it was exactly what he hadn't even known he'd wanted, a thick gold band with a gorgeously cut sapphire set into it, flush with the metal so it wouldn't catch on anything while he was working and still sparkling with color. Hands shaking, he pulled it from the holder and read the inscription on the inside: In all possibilities.

"Viktor," he breathed, and then laughed softly, disbelieving.

"It's... Is it okay?"

"It's more than okay," Jayce said. "It's... Oh, gods." He handed the ring to Viktor and then held out his hand. "Put it on me."

Viktor glanced at him, slightly confused, and Jayce knew he was giving off a weird, impatient sort of energy, but he just smiled at Viktor and wiggled his fingers.

The instant the ring slid home, Jayce cupped Viktor's face and kissed him firmly. "I love you. Wait right here."

"What? Jayce, where are you going?"

Jayce was already halfway to their bedroom. "Be right back!" he yelled, and dove for the closet, dragging the old shoebox down from the top shelf and dumping out all the memorabilia in it. A coaster from the dive bar near campus where they'd worked out the finer details of their first major project. A program from the first conference they'd attended together as guest lecturers, and their badges from the same conference two years later when Jayce had been a keynote speaker. A host of sticky-notes (no longer sticky) with random messages they'd left each other over the years. The precious letter Viktor had written to him just before they'd finally gotten together. A novelty pen Viktor had bought because it looked "just like you!"

And at the bottom of the box, hidden under all the scraps and detritus of their lives, a much smaller box.

Jayce snatched it up, leaving everything else on the closet floor to be picked up later, and dashed back toward the kitchen. "Okay!" he said as soon as he saw Viktor again, bemused but patient. "Okay, so, you beat me to it. I was waiting for our anniversary. But--" He landed back on the stool, panting slightly from the scramble. He opened the box and offered it to Viktor.

Viktor laughed gently as soon as he saw the box. "Really? Jayce, this is very sweet, I--" He stopped, his eyes going wide when he saw the actual ring, white gold with odd striations of pale purple running through it, with a single band of yellow gold along one edge.

It wasn't quite an alloy -- the metals hadn't been entirely mixed together -- but it had taken Jayce a while to figure out how to combine and then anodize the gold and titanium so they would look just right, the way Viktor had described it to him, some years ago. He watched Viktor's face nervously, still not entirely certain he'd done it right.

"Where did you get this?" Viktor asked. His voice was shaking as he gingerly lifted the ring out and turned it slowly.

"I made it," Jayce said. "Is it-- Did I get it right? At least close?" They had still been students, long before they'd ever dated, drinking as they discussed a project. Their consideration of the various alloys that might suit the project best had wandered into sharing the strangest metals they'd ever seen. Jayce had been entirely enchanted by Viktor's description of his mother's ring, the only jewelry he'd ever seen her wear.

"It's exactly right," Viktor said. "Except for this band." He ran his finger along the gold along the edge.

"Yeah, that's. I didn't want an exact duplicate," Jayce admitted. "I wanted it to be something that tied your past to your present and, you know, hopefully your future. You, um. You might want to read the inscription."

Viktor glanced up at him, then tilted the ring until he saw the writing and squinted at it. In every timeline. Viktor looked at Jayce, his eyes wide and beautiful. "Jayce, this is... this is perfect." He kissed Jayce tenderly, then slipped the ring back into the box. "I can't wait to wear it."

Jayce blinked. "I know I said I was waiting, but you can wear it now. You already asked me, so--"

Viktor shook his head, then very deliberately put the box into Jayce's hand and curled Jayce's fingers around it. "I cannot. Not until you have my family's blessing," he said soberly.

Jayce opened his mouth. Closed it. Dug through his memories, until he was reasonably certain they were correct. "What family?"

Chapter Text

Viktor stared at Jayce. "My family," he said slowly, "in Zaun."

Jayce stared back, as if Viktor had suddenly grown antlers or antennae or something. "I definitely remember you telling me that your parents both passed when you were young. And that you were an only child."

Viktor managed not to roll his eyes. Pilties had such rigid definitions for family. He tended to forget that. "I was eleven when my mother died, Jayce," he said, as patiently as he could manage. "Did you think I raised myself after that?"

"I... no, but you've never..." Jayce shrugged. He reached out and caught Viktor's hand, stroking the back of it lightly with his thumb. Gingerly, almost as if he expected Viktor to bite, he tugged gently, pulling Viktor out of the kitchen and toward the couch. "I can probably count on my fingers the number of times you've ever told me anything about your life in Zaun," he said. He sat down, pulling Viktor down next to him. "I didn't want to pry. I figured you just... didn't like thinking about it much. I guess I... assumed after your mom passed that you wound up in some kind of group home or orphanage or something."

Viktor coughed in surprise. It was possible, he supposed, that there were orphanages in Zaun that were not thinly-disguised child labor camps, but he had never heard of any such miraculous haven. "Such things are to be avoided in Zaun," he told Jayce. "I was taken in by friends of my father, and they became my new fathers. I lived with them for six or seven years, until I was granted a scholarship for the Academy. "

Jayce frowned. "You've never mentioned them," he said, and then in response to Viktor's exasperated look, "You haven't! Have you? All I can remember is you telling me some story about working in some kind of sketchy pub and... Uh. I think you told me one time when we were drunk some story about old men teaching you to count cards?"

"Vander and Silco, yes. My fathers. And they own that sketchy bar, which is why I worked there. No one else would have hired me for such work." Viktor wanted to be annoyed, but now that he was thinking about it... he probably hadn't mentioned them much. Jayce's guess was not entirely inaccurate; he hadn't wanted to think much about their parting for a long time, and by the time he'd reconnected with them, the situation was more complicated than he'd wanted to explain, and... He grimaced and then laughed at himself. "I suppose that is not enough for you to have understood the relationship." Another Zaunite would have picked it up, but Jayce was from Piltover.

Jayce was frozen with his mouth comically half-open. "...Uh. Oh." He winced. "Please don't tell them I called it sketchy?"

Viktor huffed another soft laugh. "Of course not," he said. "You are correct, I do not speak of them often. I have not been to see them, in truth, since I came to the Academy, though we communicate from time to time."

"Oh. Why not?"

Viktor paused, considering how much he wanted to explain. Probably, he should tell Jayce most of it, at least, before taking him to Zaun to meet them. He paused to put his thoughts in order, and began slowly, "Shortly before I left, they had a... rather violent falling out that might have resulted in much more damage had I not been there to mitigate things." Jayce would likely misinterpret the word "violent" to mean merely "excessive" even though Viktor had meant it quite literally. Briefly, he considered going into more detail, but then shrugged it off. It shouldn't matter overmuch.

"It became quite awkward in the aftermath," he continued, "because they both wanted me to take their side against the other. And Silco, in particular, was very upset that I was planning to leave Zaun for the Academy." Jayce made a sound somewhere between offended and inquisitive. "This was shortly after the first uprising," Viktor explained, "and they both had been deeply involved in the revolution. Silco was far from the only one who thought I was betraying Zaun by leaving it, but our arguments left me very bitter.

"I did not speak with either of them again until I was a graduate student, when I had matured enough to understand that they, too, were people." He smiled ruefully, remembering his youthful rage. "But they were both very forgiving when I finally contacted them. It probably helped that Zaun had finally achieved independence by then. And their eldest daughter informed me a few years ago that they had forgiven each other as well, and were living together again."

"Eldest-- You have a sister?" Jayce's thumb was still rubbing small circles into Viktor's wrist, but every bit of focus was locked. This was, Viktor realized with some chagrin, more information about his youth than he had ever shared before. "But you said you were an only child."

"Eh... They were orphans of the uprising. Vander took them in only a month or two before I came to Piltover, and they are quite a bit younger than me. We never became close enough to consider each other siblings. Closer to cousins, if we must put a name on it." That was a massive oversimplification, of course, but he could not tell Jayce every detail in this moment.

"But wouldn't--" Jayce hesitated and sighed. "Family bonds are very different in Zaun, I guess."

"Very," Viktor agreed.

Jayce looked down, fidgeting with his ring. Viktor was never going to be tired of seeing it there, announcing to the world (or at least to Piltover) that Jayce belonged to Viktor. "This blessing thing," Jayce said, looking back up to meet Viktor's eyes, "it's... important? To you?"

Piltover had a similar tradition, Viktor knew, but it was considered extremely old-fashioned. It had lost its bite over time as well, and many couples didn't even bother with it anymore. But in Zaun, where family was more important than everything else... Someone who married without their family's blessing was declaring themselves no longer a part of that family, a severing that was almost never repairable.

Far worse than spending several years without any contact with one's parents at all. More permanent than attacking one's spouse in a berserker rage.

Viktor... would take that step, if he absolutely had to. He would give up nearly anything to be with Jayce. But Viktor could still remember hiding in Vander's arms as he wept for his mother. He could still remember Silco tucking him into bed every night, gentle fingers brushing through his hair as the muffled sounds of the bar lulled him to sleep. He could still remember them teaching him to laugh again, after his world had crumbled into dust. Despite whatever arguments and differences had come between them later, he still considered them his family.

He leaned over to kiss Jayce softly. "It is important," he admitted. "It will not stop me from marrying you. But I would... very much regret it, if we did not at least ask."

"Then we'll ask. I'm not going to let you begin our marriage with any regrets." Jayce pulled Viktor in for another, longer kiss. He chased Viktor's lips every time Viktor tried to pull away, and Viktor was helpless to resist, coming back for more and more and more, soft like butterfly wings against his mouth.

When he finally let Viktor sit back, Jayce let out a quiet whimper and flopped over to put his head in Viktor's lap. "It does feel a little unfair, though. You already knew my mom adores you. I have to meet two guys who I already know hate Pilties and convince them that I'm a better choice for you than you moving back to Zaun."

Viktor suppressed a smile at Jayce's melodrama and petted Jayce's hair soothingly. "Zaun is free now," he pointed out, "I'm fairly certain they don't actually hate Pilties anymore. Anyway, I have been living in Piltover, independently, for longer than I lived with them; they know that I believe I am able to help Zaun best by remaining here and continuing our work, and even if they may disagree they accept that I am committed to this course. Also, I have told them that you are a good man and that I love you very much. I am certain that asking for their blessing will be little more than a formality." Ximena had given her blessing so readily, after all, and he had been living in Piltover for longer than he had lived with them; he couldn't imagine them having any real objections.

Jayce sighed. "I hope you're right. When should we go see them?"

"We have data models to construct, but no lab tests for at least a month," Viktor mused. "We could pack our laptops and go next week, after the press for the Innovators announcement. I'll call tomorrow and see if they will be available, but I do not foresee any difficulty with that. You will need to let me help you pack your bag, though. Most of your clothing is entirely unsuitable."

"Pack? You think we'll need more than a day trip?" Jayce asked. "I'm positive that Mamá spent more time feeding you than giving you her blessing."

"But I have met your mother before," Viktor pointed out. "I think we should plan on at least a couple of days, so they can get to know you."

"Oh gods, I'm doomed," Jayce groaned.

Viktor laughed and traced one finger from Jayce's chin, down his throat and chest toward his belt buckle. "Come on, get up. I will make you feel much better, yes?"

Jayce sat up with a quick grin and a cheerful leer. "Just-got-engaged sex?"

"I was thinking cupcakes," Viktor said, pretending innocence, and waited for Jayce's over-exaggerated pout before adding, "...you will be needing the extra energy."

Chapter Text

Viktor insisted on driving. Jayce hesitated at first -- Viktor was a startlingly aggressive driver for someone who was so soft-spoken and polite. But it was true that Jayce's one and only attempt at driving in Zaun, when he'd been there to purchase materials they couldn't easily order in Piltover, had gotten him horrifically lost, and that had been in the upper levels, where foreigners were expected to wander and the streets were actually lit and had visible markings. With a sigh, Jayce turned over his keys and resigned himself to several hours of involuntary stamping on an imaginary brake in the passenger-side footwell whenever Viktor was tailgating another vehicle like he was planning to pickpocket the driver at seventy miles per hour.

He distracted himself from Viktor's driving by continuing the fretting he'd been doing since they'd first arranged this trip. He was going to be trying to make a good impression on two men who, from Viktor's own description, hated Piltover and all its denizens, engaged in brawling for the sheer amusement of it, and had apparently basically led the Zaunite Revolution as both its brains and its brawn.

On the other hand, they were longtime partners (discounting the seven-year separation that Jayce didn't want to ask about, because what little he'd heard so far sounded incredibly messy), and they'd adopted not only Viktor but several other orphaned Zaunite children, so they clearly had some heart.

And then they crossed the border into Zaun, and Jayce's fretting was entirely subsumed by the fear that they wouldn't survive long enough for him to meet Viktor's adoptive fathers, because apparently Viktor's driving on the Piltover side of the border was actually his idea of sedate.

As soon as they were out of sight of the border station, Jayce found himself clutching his laptop bag to his chest with one hand, white-knuckling the oh-shit bar with the other, and both feet permanently shoving against that imaginary brake on his side of the car.

"Shit--What the fuck is-- Look out! --the fuck are you doing?"

Viktor swerved around a battered car, slowing down only long enough to spit some sort of invective at the other driver. The other driver gestured something obscene and bared her teeth, and Viktor laughed like a madman as he downshifted and floored the gas, leaving the other car in the dust.

"What," Jayce repeated, "the actual fuck? What is the-- shit look out--!"

Viktor swerved again, laying on the horn and snorting with contempt. Jayce wasn't certain if the contempt was for the motorcycle they'd nearly bumped off the road, or Jayce's desire to live through the next hour. He was fairly certain he didn't want to know. "I am an excellent driver," Viktor informed him, "and your car is very responsive. We are perfectly safe."

Jayce had some doubt about that. Lots of doubt about that, actually. "Oh fuck, I'm going to die," he whined.

"Everyone dies," Viktor sniffed, sliding them into an off-ramp that led down into the darkness of Zaun's deeper levels. "You will not die like this, however."

"I'm going to die," Jayce repeated, "either when you crash my car into the side of a -- fuck! -- side of a building, or when you miss by an eighth of an inch and I have fucking heart attack." Viktor had to be doing at least ninety and the roads here were narrower, curvier, and harder to see than even Piltover's most shadowed streets.

Viktor grinned, not taking his eyes from the road, which -- thank the gods for small mercies. "Try to relax," he suggested. "Or at least close your eyes. If you are tensed like that, you will be more injured in the event that we do have an accident."

Jayce gritted his teeth. "Is this a Zaun thing, or just a you thing? Because if everyone in Zaun drives like this I don't know how there are any of you left."

"How many accidents have you been in?" Viktor asked, and the tires squealed as he took a sudden turn onto a somehow even narrower road.

"Uh." It was hard to think when he was this terrified. "Three," Jayce finally managed. "Only one was my fault, though. About six months after I first got my license."

"Mm. I have never been in an accident. You are statistically safer with me driving Zaun's streets than you are driving yourself in Piltover."

"Okay but how many accidents have you caused with all that weaving around?" Jayce shot back.

Viktor shrugged, and Jayce was just about to point out that this was not at all a comforting response when Viktor slammed on the brakes and they skidded to a halt mere inches from a crossing train. As they waited for the train to pass, Viktor actually looked over, taking a hand off the wheel to brush his fingers down Jayce's cheek. "Miláčku," he said, his eyes soft and tender, "I love you. I am going to marry you. Trust that I will not allow you to come to harm, hm?"

Jayce sighed. "I trust you," he said. "I just--"

"Close your eyes for me, my love." It came out in a gentle purr and Jayce's eyes were closed before he even thought about it.

"Trust me," Viktor said, soothing and sweet, and ran his thumb along Jayce's jaw again before his hand disappeared. "Let me take care of you. We will be there soon."

Jayce sighed and slumped down in his seat a little and put his hands over his face so he wouldn't be tempted to open his eyes again, listening to the clack of the train as it passed.

"Good boy," Viktor said, and the car moved, bouncing over the train tracks before Jayce's ears had even registered that the train had passed.

Jayce whined a little as he felt the acceleration when they were past the tracks. "This is still terrifying," he said, and it might have come out as a whine.

"Perhaps, but instead of a series of very high spikes, it is a lower, smoother line. A median terror, so to speak."

Jayce flailed briefly as the car turned without warning, and then he adjusted. "You're trying to distract me with math," he accused.

"Only if it is working," Viktor said, sounding amused. "Look at it this way. If you are worried about my driving, you have less bandwidth to worry about my family."

"I just want them to like me."

Viktor hummed. "It is all right if they do not. It will not change my feelings for you."

"Of course it's not all right," Jayce grumbled. "It's your family, I don't want you to feel like you have to choose. Not because I think you'd choose them over me, but because you deserve to have your family. If I'd realized you had a family, we could have visited sooner." Viktor didn't respond to that, and Jayce slumped down even further. "We'll make time for more visits in the future," he promised. "Even if it means I have to endure your demolition derby driving."

"Nothing is being demolished," Viktor said. "It is not my fault that you learned to drive in a nation where everyone turns into a timid grandmother behind the wheel. It is perhaps something in the air that affects your brains as children."

Jayce rolled his eyes even though Viktor couldn't see it and then yelped as he was thrown against the door as tires squealed and the car lurched to one side. Viktor growled a few choice curses as the car resumed its mostly-smooth motion. Jayce grinned. "The only words I've managed to learn from you in almost ten years are curses and endearments," he noted. "What are your dads going to think about that, huh?"

Viktor chuckled. "I'm not sure they know more than the curses, so they will be impressed that you can be both sharp and sweet."

The car slowed and then stopped. "You may open your eyes," Viktor said, and Jayce dropped his hands. They appeared to be in a parking garage.

"Are we there already?"

"Close. There is no vehicle traffic in their part of the Lanes, so we must walk from here."

Jayce followed Viktor out of the garage and into streets that were surprisingly open and well-lit for a district that was eighty percent underground. "This looks nice!"

"I can hear the surprise," Viktor said, smirking. "I would be offended if this was not such a recent change. I have been told, and seen a few pictures, but it is still surprising for me, as well. It is almost unsettling. "

Jayce spotted the Last Drop when they were still several blocks away. It was a large building compared to its neighbors, at least three stories high. "Drinks and music on the public levels," Viktor told him before he even asked, "and also space for gambling, and rooms that can be rented for private parties. The top level is the office and living space -- kitchen and family room and master bedroom. There is also a basement that is divided between storage and the other bedroom."

Other bedroom, singular. Viktor had warned Jayce about that already -- everyone except Vander and Silco slept in the same room, in bunkbeds. Jayce wasn't exactly looking forward to that, but so far he'd managed to avoid complaining about it. Things were what they were, and whining wouldn't change it. And he needed Viktor's family to know he wasn't just some spoiled Piltie snob, even if he was kind of a spoiled Piltie snob.

It was still early enough that the bar wasn't open yet. Viktor led Jayce down a narrow alley and entered a seven-digit code into the keypad waiting by a sturdy door. He seemed almost surprised when the door clicked open, and at Jayce's questioning look, shrugged. "They used to change the codes every six months," he explained. "I do not know if they added my old code back to the lock when they agreed to the visit, or if they never removed it in the first place."

Jayce resettled the weight of their bags and stepped through once Viktor had pulled the door open for him. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," Viktor said immediately, then paused to make sure the door closed behind them and the indicator light on the inside flipped from green back to amber. "But I don't know why."

They were in a storeroom of sorts, shelves covered with boxes and cleaning supplies and tools and other stuff. There was a door on the opposite wall that probably led into the actual bar, and a set of stairs that led down into what Jayce assumed was the basement.

Viktor took a slow breath, then led Jayce through the door into the bar.

In Piltover, it would've been considered somewhat seedy, not quite a dive, but not too far from it. Jayce didn't really have time to take in all the details before he spotted the two men at the bar, watching them sharply.

The man behind the bar was massive, easily twice Jayce's size, or more. His bared arms were at least as big around as Jayce's thighs. His hair was gray, pulled back into bun, and the smile that broke over his face when he saw Viktor was rather sweet, actually.

Jayce found himself responding to that smile, and then he realized that the other man, the one sitting on the barstool, was watching him with a gaze sharp enough to cut.

He was whipcord-lean and every angle of him was sharp and dangerous and alert. Half his face was scars, and the eye on that side was dead, gray and lifeless where it floated in its socket. The working eye was blue and as cold as ice, his lips pursed with distaste.

Not great.

Viktor approached the big man first. They didn't quite hug, but touched foreheads briefly in what Viktor had once explained was the Zaunite equivalent. (An actual hug, he'd explained, was considered quite intimate. Jayce had been forced to reevaluate quite a few of their early interactions.) "Vander," Viktor murmured. "I am glad to see you again."

"Wasn't sure the day would ever come, Sprocket," Vander responded. His massive hand closed over Viktor's neck and squeezed gently. "It's good to have you home."

Viktor turned to the other man -- Silco, evidently -- and instead of the affectionate greeting, offered a hand. "I was glad to hear that you came back," Viktor said.

"Were you?" Silco's gaze finally slid away from Jayce, and it felt like an actual, physical weight had been lifted off his lungs.

"I was," Viktor answered calmly, his hand still extended. "I am. Our disagreements do not mean that I wish for you to be unhappy."

Silco grunted, and Jayce had no idea what that meant, but he reached out to take Viktor's hand -- a forearm grasp rather than a handshake -- and Jayce had to assume that was... good, or at least acceptable.

"Silco, Vander, this is Jayce, my partner." And now all three pairs of eyes were on Jayce. Viktor's were warm and reassuring, Vander's measuring, and Silco's on the wrong side of hostile.

Both of Viktor's parents were dangerous, Jayce knew. Vander was a mastiff, fierce and strong and protective, loyal only to a select few; Silco was an alley cat, quick and vicious and possessive, trusting no one and more likely to go down fighting than run away. These were the men that Jayce had to impress.

Fuck.

Jayce straightened and pasted on his best smile. "I'm glad to meet you both."

"That won't last long," Silco said.

Vander snorted. "Don't scare him off the first minute he's walked through the door, Sil."

"Mm." Despite his trepidation, Jayce was fascinated to hear Viktor's neutral little hum coming from a different throat and realize that this was where he had learned it. "Come with me," Silco said, and slid off his barstool.

Jayce hesitated. "...Me?"

"Silco," Viktor said, warning, and withstood that sharp, one-eyed glare far better than Jayce.

"I only want a young, strong pair of arms to help me at the market," Silco said with an air of patently false innocence.

When Viktor started to protest again, Jayce jumped in. "It's fine," he said, and caught Viktor's gaze. "It's fine," he repeated, because of course he knew Silco was going to interrogate him; that was the whole point of the trip, wasn't it? Jayce would rather get it over with. He set their bags down on the nearest table. "I'm happy to help. You catch up with Vander."

Viktor looked reluctant, but clearly knew there wasn't much choice. "If you are willing," he agreed. "I will see you soon."

Jayce gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and then turned to Silco. "At your service, sir."

Chapter Text

Silco didn't say anything as he led Jayce through the streets. Jayce tried to focus on the path they were taking, in case he had to try to find his way back to the bar on his own.

Finally, Silco glanced over at him and said, "You came to get his family's blessing, didn't you?"

Jayce nearly stumbled. "Yes. Uh, sir. Did Viktor tell you that?"

"No. But it's the only reason I can think of that he would have brought you here."

Jayce wanted to disagree with that, but considering how reluctant Viktor was to talk about Zaun, he wasn't sure he could. "Will you give it to us?" he asked instead, because it seemed Silco appreciated a blunt, straightforward approach. He squeezed his fingers together, feeling the still-unfamiliar and thrilling press of Viktor's ring there.

"A family's blessing isn't something that's just given," Silco said. "You have to earn it."

Jayce wasn't especially surprised, despite Viktor's assurances that it would mostly be a formality. They didn't know him here, after all. "All right. How do I do that?"

"You prove to us that you're worth his time and attention."

"His word isn't good enough?" Jayce wasn't sure he could ever truly deserve Viktor, but he couldn't help but be slightly offended on Viktor's behalf.

Viktor should get to choose for himself. He has, Jayce reminded himself. Viktor had said he would marry Jayce with or without his family's blessing. Jayce was doing this for Viktor, to keep Viktor from having to make that sacrifice, however willing he was.

Silco snorted indelicately. "No, of course not. He's in love, he doesn't care whether you're worthy. Traditionally, he shouldn't even be present for your asking, but I suppose someone had to show you where to find us."

Jayce chewed on that in silence for a few minutes. "Is it even possible for a Piltie to be worthy to you?" He tried not to make it sound resentful. He wasn't sure whether he was successful.

Silco eyed him again. "Were you on the bridge for the first uprising? Ready to fight? To push us back into our filth?"

"What?" Jayce was taken aback by the sudden, snarling hostility in Silco's tone. "No! I was only, what, sixteen when it happened?"

"Viktor was only seventeen," Silco told him. "He was there, on this side of it."

Jayce stumbled to a stop. "What?"

Silco turned to face him, smirking. "He never told you. Why is that, do you think?"

Jayce was still struggling to superimpose his mental image of a laughing, loving Viktor, young and fragile and already dependent on his cane, against the soul-wrenching pictures he'd seen of the battlefield that the bridge had become that day. So many people died on that bridge, and Viktor might have been one of them. Even the thought of it was enough to choke him. That the world might have been deprived of Viktor's genius and fundamental kindness was utterly abhorrent.

"Oh, gods. Why would someone let him--"

Silco's smirk grew into a sneer. The gruesome scars covering half his face make it particularly effective. "If you knew anything about Viktor, you would know that no one lets him do anything."

But Jayce was stuck on the question, now. Why would someone let Viktor fight? However dedicated to the cause he might have been, the simple truth was that Viktor wasn't able to move fast enough to keep up with a rioting crowd or even marching soldiers. Not agile enough to keep from being knocked over and trampled.

More than that, Viktor had been extremely clear, from the first day of their partnership, that he would have nothing whatsoever to do with weapons or violence of any sort. So why...

"He wasn't there to fight," Jayce said, more to himself than to Silco. "He was there as... some kind of support. Communications or supplies or... No. A medic." That. That made sense in a way that nothing else did. Viktor would not fight -- but he would want to be certain that the people he cared for received help when they were hurt. Would have worked himself to exhaustion at the rear of the conflict, helping to stitch and bandage wounds, replace lost blood, provide relief from pain and comfort for the dying. Jayce looked back at Silco, absolutely certain, almost daring the man to deny it.

Silco's sneer was gone, and he wasn't smiling but he managed to exude a sense of satisfaction. "So you do know him, at least a little. Good. My quarrel was never with all of Piltover, only the factions that were trying to keep Zaun enslaved and under their control. Your case isn't hopeless." He turned on his heel and started walking down another alley.

"Come. The market is just through here."

"Zaun is a struggling economy," Silco said conversationally, handing Jayce a wrapped parcel of fish that Jayce hadn't been able to identify even before the fishmonger had chopped off their heads and filleted them with brutal and elegant efficiency. "But when we were merely the Undercity, we were poor. Vander and I were miners before we saved up enough to open the bar. So was Viktor's father, and taking care of a family meant he wasn't able to save much. In those days, you know, miners who didn't make minimum quota didn't get paid at all."

Jayce noted the use of the past tense in that. "It's better now?"

Silco hummed. "The wages are pro-rated now, instead of all or nothing. No minimums, just a commission by weight. It's still not ideal, but it's better. Hold on." He interrupted the lecture to stop at a stall selling vegetables, only a few of which Jayce recognized, to prod at them and dicker.

The next stall was piled with what looked like junk, mostly -- disassembled electronics, pieces and parts, random tools and hardware. Jayce poked through it all, mostly just killing time while he waited for Silco, until he found a miniaturized air compressor that was still mostly intact, and it lit a little spark in his brain. He dug into a pile of circuit boards, squinting at them until he found one with the connections he wanted. "You got solder?" he asked, picking through the hardware pile.

"I got 60/40 lead or copper here. Any other mixes, you'll have to come down to the actual store."

"Copper is fine," Jayce said absently, still picking out bits and parts. He was already putting the pieces together in his head. "Washers?"

A box appeared in front of him. It was open-topped, filled with an assortment of sizes. "Thanks." He started poking through it, looking for the sizes he needed.

He built a little pile on the side of the stall, until he'd found most of what he wanted. "How much?" he asked, and finally looked up.

The boy standing behind the counter couldn't have been more than half Jayce's age. He had white dreadlocks and a smear of grease on one cheek. He eyed Jayce's pile of parts, mouth scrunching as he figured. "Thirty."

"Yeah, okay." Jayce reached into his pocket.

"Absolutely not," said Silco, and there was another of those little similarities with Viktor that Jayce found so striking. Silco pushed between Jayce and the stall counter. He glared at Jayce, and then looked at Ekko. "Ten at best."

The kid's eyes widened. "Silco. This Piltie belong to you?"

"He belongs to Viktor, for my sins." Silco turned his glare on Jayce. "Are you an idiot?"

"What?"

Silco rolled his eyes. "You can't just take the first price offered," he growled. "Don't you know how to haggle?"

"Not... really," Jayce admitted. "Piltover doesn't do haggling."

"Wow, that's messed up," the kid opined.

"Isn't it more fair if everyone is paying the same price?" Jayce challenged.

"Uh, no," the boy shot back. "What's fair is if everyone pays based on what they can afford to pay."

"Ekko," Silco said firmly. "Not now." He turned back to Jayce, knuckling his forehead like he was getting a headache. "This is part of that worthiness I was talking about," he said his voice hard. "Fortunes rise and fortunes fall, and if you ever find yourself fallen, the kind of poor that means you have to decide which one of you gets to eat on any given day?" He leaned in close, his eye menacing. "You need to know how to conserve every coin you've got. How to get the very best price you can get for everything."

Jayce considered that for a long moment, thinking about how long it had taken to convince Viktor to only use a teabag once. Or that he didn't have to wash and reuse sandwich baggies and takeout containers. Or to stop hoarding condiment packets and napkins and fucking coffee stirrers from fast food places.

Viktor, Jayce suddenly understood rather brutally, had been the kind of poor that meant he and his mother had to argue about whose turn it was to eat. Jayce's stomach clenched and tied itself into a knot. He had known Viktor had grown up poor, especially in the last year or two of his mother's life, but he hadn't really dug into exactly what that meant, especially in Zaun.

"Okay," he said, after he'd breathed through the sudden and useless sense of panic over something that was more than twenty years in the past. "Will you teach me?"

Silco drew back a bit, looking uncertain and a little surprised. "What?"

"You're saying I need to know how to do this," Jayce said, waving his hand toward the middle of the market. "And I get it, but this isn't something I grew up with. I need to learn it." He grinned at Silco's poleaxed expression, and said, "I'm smart. That's not random bragging, I... I dunno what Viktor told you about me, if anything, but he's the only person I've ever met who can actually keep up with me, and I assume you have some idea how damned smart he is. I'm really fucking smart, and I learn really fucking fast.

"And I'm absolutely certain I could learn this from just standing around and watching carefully for a while. But this is important. I didn't realize how important until just now, and I will apologize for that if you want, but that's useless if I'm not ready to do something about it. So I'm ready to learn, and I want to learn from the best. I'm guessing, of the people I have access to right now, that's you. So. Will you teach me, or are you just hoping I'm going to fall on my face so you can throw me away as yet another spoiled Piltie who's incapable of recognizing his own privilege when it gets called out?" He hesitated, then cocked his head slightly and added, perhaps just a touch sarcastically, "Sir."

From behind the counter, nearly forgotten, Ekko let out a long, slow whistle. "Daaaaamn. You get a ten percent discount now, Piltie, just for that show."

Jayce didn't look away, from Silco's narrowed eye and hoped that he hadn't overstepped so grossly that Viktor was about to be widowed before they'd even gotten married.

Then Silco blinked, and some sort of tension released from his shoulders, and he let out a dry little chuckle. "It is heartening to know that you have enough humility and self-knowledge to recognize your own failings. And," he added with a sharp look, "enough spirit and conviction to stand your ground when it matters. Viktor was once drawn to companions who would be subservient to his every whim, rather than true partners. And then he would wonder why he grew bored of them so easily."

Jayce was, in fact, perfectly happy to bow to most of Viktor's whims, but Silco wasn't wrong, either. Jayce was more than willing to push back when Viktor was being a prick for no good reason, or running heedlessly over Jayce's boundaries. So he just shrugged a little, accepting Silco's assessment.

"Very well," Silco finally said. "You must pay close attention to expressions and body language as well as the numbers themselves. We will begin here, since it is a transaction already begun. Learn by doing. You will conduct the bargaining, and I will provide suggestions. Ekko opened the bidding at thirty, and I have countered with ten." He turned to raise his eyebrow at Ekko, grinning like a shark. "Your move."

Chapter Text

Dinner that evening was fish and roasted vegetables and Viktor could have cried at all the delicate scents and flavors he'd nearly forgotten over the past ten years, if he weren't still trying to work out what exactly had happened between Jayce and Silco at the market.

Silco had always been a little prickly, even before Vander had tried to kill him. And Viktor had definitely been stretching the truth somewhat in assuring Jayce that his fathers held no real hatred for Pilties anymore. But Silco and Jayce had returned from the market with arms full of parcels and bags, and had clearly reached some kind of understanding.

Silco had simply refused to answer Viktor's questions, giving him that sharp "none of your business" glare that had so intimidated him when he'd first come to live with them. It didn't frighten him any longer, but it did mean that Silco wasn't going to give in.

He'd tried cornering Jayce, too, when he'd taken Jayce down to the basement to stash their bags under what had once been Viktor's bunk. Jayce had just said, "Nothing, really! He taught me how to dicker over prices and introduced me around a bit. I think I managed to earn at least a little of his respect. It's all good."

And then he'd kissed Viktor and Viktor had kissed him back and Viktor had been distracted until they were interrupted by the arrival of all four of Viktor's not-quite-siblings.

Viktor had then spent a good hour being utterly floored at how much they'd grown over the last ten years, and biting his tongue because actually saying that would have been the stupidest thing to say; it had been ten years, of course they'd all grown! Even Viktor, who had been nominally an adult when he left, had changed since then!

But suddenly, he understood why people cooed at toddlers and exclaimed over how much they'd grown. It wasn't that he had somehow expected them to stay kids, but that he would never have been able to predict how that growth would have changed them, how it would have turned them from small, scared children, newly-orphaned and mourning, into strong, confident, capable, and mostly happy adults (or near-adults, in Powder's case).

So he'd introduced Jayce and endured a little teasing, and then he'd bitten his tongue to keep from cooing and listened as they told him about all the things that he'd missed. He'd absorbed the relationships they'd forged among themselves, growing up together, relationships that had barely begun to exist when Viktor had left. Which was why, despite having the same dads, they weren't really Viktor's sisters and brothers.

Still, when Vander had bellowed down the stairs that dinner was ready, they'd all trooped up to join their dads at a somewhat overcrowded table for fish and roasted vegetables. And Viktor, his nose full of nostalgia, had looked around the table and thought family and for the first time in years, that word meant someone other than Jayce.

Whatever had happened between Jayce and Silco, Viktor finally decided, it had been a good thing. Silco didn't seem actively hostile, the way it had looked like he might have been when they'd first arrived, and Jayce still looked nervous but not quite as terrified.

Vi was arguing with Claggor about something that had happened at the gym where they both worked earlier that week when Vander turned in his seat to eye Jayce, appraising.

Jayce froze, fork halfway to his mouth, then set it back down and straightened, just a bit. "Sir?"

Vander snorted. "Don't sir me. It's just Vander." He pointed the stem of his unlit pipe at Jayce's chest. "Lot of muscle for a Piltie," he observed, and raised his eyebrows. "Just for show?"

On the far side of the table, Vi and Claggor dropped their argument, exchanging a look that Viktor didn't know how to read.

Jayce looked down at himself, and then back up. "Uh. No, I mean, I go to a gym, but most of it's from, um, the forge."

Mylo looked up with sudden sharp interest. "Forge? Like, for making swords?"

Powder, who'd been poking listlessly at her fish and sneaking vegetables onto Claggor's plate when he wasn't paying attention, looked up at that, pale eyes curious. Silco kept eating, slowly and steadily, to all appearances completely ignoring the conversation.

Viktor began to feel a vague sense of apprehension.

Jayce laughed a little nervously. "I mean we mostly make tools, but there's a smithy for custom orders, so I guess I could make a sword? I don't really do those kinds of blades, though, so I'd have to research it first."

"You're a smith?" Vander asked, frowning. "I thought you were a scientist." He glanced at Viktor and then looked back at Jayce.

"Mostly a scientist," Jayce agreed, "but Mom still owns the factory, so I pitch in a few times a week to keep my hand in. And to make custom pieces for our -- Viktor's and my -- experiments. I started working in the factory when I was like... thirteen."

"Why would you hand-smith tools?" Claggor asked, sounding honestly curious. "Aren't they usually factory-produced?"

"Usually," Jayce agreed, his stammering easing as he slid into the comfortable patter that Viktor had heard a dozen times or more. "But that means you might end up with impurities in the finished product that can cause structural defects or slight imbalances. Talis Tools makes all the metal parts by hand, which cuts down on that. Most of it is poured into molds, but we do take commissions for individually-crafted pieces, and those are easier to hammer than to pour."

"So those muscles aren't just for show," Vander summarized, leaning back in his chair with a toothy smile, and Viktor was definitely beginning to worry now.

"No," Jayce agreed tentatively. "No, most of it comes from swinging a hammer and pumping the bellows."

Vander's smile got wider. "Do you fight?"

Jayce blinked. "What?"

"Vander," Viktor said, feeling his shoulders climb up around his ears as they tensed. "Don't--"

"You came here for a purpose," Silco said suddenly, sharply. Of course he'd been paying attention. "Let us do what we need to do."

"This is not needed," Viktor argued. "Jayce and I live in Piltover, not the Sump."

"You shouldn't even be here for this, Sprocket," Vander said, calm but implacable.

Viktor scowled, wanting to argue more, but strictly speaking, infuriatingly, Vander was right. You didn't bring your intended along to ask for their family's blessing; you faced the family on your own feet. Viktor was only here because Jayce wouldn't have been able to find the Last Drop on his own. By all rights, Viktor had no actual say in their assessment of Jayce.

He slumped back in his chair and folded his arms, irritated and unable to take it out on anyone present.

Vander's mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, and then he looked back over at Jayce. "Do you fight," he repeated. "Boxing. Martial arts. Krav Maga. Wrestling, even."

"Oh. Uh." Jayce glanced at Viktor, and then quickly surveyed the rest of them, all watching avidly except for Silco, who'd gone back to calmly eating vegetables. "I've... had some basic self-defense classes," he said slowly.

Vander grinned. "Great. We'll head over to the gym after dinner, see what you can do." He surveyed the table thoughtfully. "Vi?"

Vi smirked and ground her fist into her other hand. "Oh, yeah," she agreed.

"Oh, I'm not-- That doesn't seem fair," Jayce said. "I mean, I'm sure you're way more well-trained than I am," he assured Vi as her eyes narrowed dangerously, "but I have to weigh like twice what you do."

Viktor resisted the urge to clap his hand over his eyes as Vi laughed. "Weight don't matter if you're not able to touch me," she said. "C'mon, Pretty Boy, you afraid I'll rearrange your face for you?"

"Um. Yes, kind of?"

"Finish your dinner," Mylo told Jayce cheerfully, stroking his rather unfortunate mustache. "You're gonna need the energy."

Jayce glanced around the table, clearly trying to figure out if he was being pranked. Aside from Powder, Vi was the smallest of Viktor's not-siblings, and Jayce was the biggest person in the room except for Vander. Jayce's eyes ended up on Viktor, and his forehead creased in sudden concern. He reached out, patiently untangling Viktor's still-folded arms until he could thread their fingers together.

"You should stay here," Jayce murmured. "You don't need to watch this."

Viktor scowled up at him. "I have every right--"

"Yeah, of course, but don't," Jayce said, quietly enough that probably only Vander was likely to overhear. "Look, Vi's gonna wipe the mat with my face, we both know it. Especially after I said that stupid thing about outweighing her. I don't know why I said that, I got put on the spot and my brain shut down. It's going to be super embarrassing and I don't want you to see it."

Viktor scowled harder. Mostly because Jayce was clearly lying. "So you want me to wait here, worrying about you?"

Jayce winced. "C'mon, they're not going to hurt me that bad. They won't want to piss you off too much."

Viktor scoffed. "They do not care how angry I am."

Jayce smiled a little and lifted Viktor's knuckles to his lips. "Yeah, they do. You haven't been around for a while, but they still love you. I can tell. Even the kids. Anyway, you're not technically supposed to be part of the blessing thing, right? Let 'em get their licks in and give me a shovel talk. I can take it. And when we're back you can patch me up and kiss it all better. Yeah?"

It was clear that Jayce did not want Viktor there, even if the excuse was a lie. Viktor was absolutely not about to let his family bear witness to an argument between them, though, so he swallowed his annoyance to pick over with Jayce later. Instead, he leaned closer, ignoring Mylo on his other side obviously trying to listen in. "You will not go down easy," he ordered.

Jayce kissed Viktor's knuckles again. "You got it, boss."

Bravado aside, Viktor had no idea whether Jayce would last more than ten seconds against Vi. He'd accompanied Jayce to the forge multiple times and knew very well how strong Jayce was, how methodical and how precise and how graceful Jayce could be. He didn't know whether Jayce could move quickly, though, or had any instinct at all for the dance of a fight.

He also, to be fair, didn't actually know how good Vi was. He knew how long she'd been training with Vander -- since before she'd come to live at the bar -- and she'd boasted to Viktor a few times, in their extremely rare communications, about awards won. But he didn't know.

Viktor washed the dishes while Silco dried -- everyone else had gone along to the gym immediately after dinner, with a plan of being back in time for the bar's opening -- and let his thoughts spin in circles.

Why hadn't Vander picked Claggor to fight Jayce? Claggor was big enough that Jayce wouldn't underestimate him, and was also much less dedicated to fight training than Vi. That was why Vander hadn't picked Claggor, probably. But it wasn't like Jayce trained, either. Claggor would have been a much fairer fight.

Of course, Vander wasn't really interested in seeing if Jayce would win a fair fight. Most likely, Vander wanted to know if Jayce would be able to protect Viktor, in need, in an unfair fight. As if Viktor was exactly as helpless as he looked. Which made him feel even more annoyed.

Maybe Vander should've fought Jayce himself, in that case, he thought irritably.

When he muttered it aloud, Silco snapped, "Don't be stupid." He threw his dishtowel over his shoulder and braced his hands against the edge of the sink, looking down at the tub of bubbles. "Vander is blood-hungry. A berserker. You know that, you have seen him in its grip. And he has not fought since-- In years. He cannot be permitted to fight anymore, not against someone he does not intend to kill."

"Since... the bridge?" Viktor filled in, eyeing Silco's ruined eye and face. "Truly?"

Silco's lips thinned. "I am still furious with you for that," he said, though it was conversational in tone. "You could have been killed."

"If I had not interfered, then you would have," Viktor returned, almost automatically. It was an well-trodden argument, for all that they hadn't rehashed it for nearly a decade. "It does not matter now," Viktor dismissed before Silco could take up the thread, carefully modulating his lingering frustration. "I was seventeen. Perhaps it was foolish. But it did work. He recognized me, he did not attack me, he let me take you away. And you are back together now, so it eventually worked out."

Silco hummed. "Surviving a stupid thing does not make it less stupid. The blood-hunger is his drug. He thought he could control it once, and he failed. He knows, now, that if he gives in to it, he will get lost in it again, and sooner or later, he will hurt someone he loves. But the hunger is still in him. Even now, sometimes, if the light catches his face just so, I can see it behind his eyes." His lips pressed together. "Some nights, I can feel it crawling under his skin, and I sleep in the office."

Viktor's stomach turned. "Why would you come back, if you think he is still capable of hurting you?"

Silco looked at Viktor directly, appraising. "Because I did not like who I became without him. And because despite it all, once I'd stopped hating him, I found I still loved him." His expression hardened. "And because we talked, and he knows that if he ever raises a hand to me again, he will die. And if he ever so much as threatens our children, he will wish I only killed him." His eye seemed to pierce Viktor's soul. "That much has been true since you came to live with us."

"But he--" Viktor paused, remembering. Vander had yelled at him plenty of times -- Viktor had been entirely too smart for his own good as a teen, and could admit now that from time to time he had been entirely infuriating. But his richly-deserved punishments had never included being hit. "I... did not know that he still had the hunger. I thought it had faded with age."

"No," Silco said simply, taking the dish out of Viktor's hands to dry it. "But he is worth the risk. We are worth the risk."

Viktor swallowed carefully, knowing that he would risk nearly anything to stay with Jayce. That Jayce would risk nearly anything to avoid hurting Viktor. And he knew that Jayce had a flashburn temper, but he simply couldn't fathom Jayce raising a hand to him. Even when angered, Jayce stomped away to recover rather than let Viktor see him in the throes of rage. Jayce was always so gentle with him; even playful roughness between them came with boundaries that Jayce absolutely refused to cross. Viktor had never once seen Jayce's control slip. He had resented it, actually, for a long time, until he'd come to realize that it wasn't Viktor's frailty being protected, but Jayce's own.

Maybe that was why Jayce had asked Viktor to remain behind. Maybe Jayce was afraid that Viktor might finally witness Jayce's capacity for violence, whatever it might be, and then be able to imagine himself as its target. It was a better excuse than simple embarrassment, at least.

"They've been gone a long time," Viktor said, glancing at the clock.

Silco followed his gaze. "Yes," he agreed. Neutral. "I need to go open the bar." He lifted the keys off the hook. "If they're not back in another hour, I'll send someone to check on them."

Viktor nodded. "Thank you."

And then Silco was gone, and there was nothing left to do but pace.

Chapter Text

Viktor forced himself to sit down again when his leg began to complain about the pacing, but he wasn't happy about it. He was angry at Vander for throwing this challenge at Jayce, and worried about what would happen to Jayce, and also angry at Jayce for asking him to stay behind and lying about the reason, and also still very worried about Jayce. The cycle of emotion was exhausting and he needed something to distract him from it.

He tried to focus on the base beat of the music that was thrumming up through the floor from the bar instead of the spiral of disasters in his head or the glacially-slow sweep of the clock hands. It didn't work, even a little bit. He was going slightly mad watching the clock's second hand tick along, just out of sync with the music.

It was far too close to the end of Silco's promised hour that he finally heard the alley door open and recognized the voices making their way up the stairs. None of the voices sounded angry or upset, but Viktor's heart still leapt into his throat. He was on his feet before the door to the living level opened.

Mylo was first through the door, Claggor looming behind him. There was a fresh bruise forming on Claggor's cheek that Viktor registered only incidentally.

Vi pushed Mylo out of her way and ignored his protest with the ease and familiarity that only siblings could achieve. She had a bruise on her jaw, already dark with color, and a thin cut over one eye that had stopped bleeding, and her teeth were bared in something like a grin. She met Viktor's gaze and gave him a toothy grin and a minuscule nod, and Viktor's heart slid an inch or two closer to where it was supposed to be.

Powder squirmed between Vi and Claggor and practically launched herself at Viktor. "Now promise you won't panic," she started.

"I was not panicking until you said that," Viktor told her. He had to struggle a little to keep his voice even.

Vander snorted as he twisted through the doorway. "He's fine, don't let Powder get under your skin." He ducked around Viktor, heading for his and Silco's bedroom.

And then Viktor could finally see Jayce.

He was worse off than Vi -- he had a split lip and was holding a coldpack over one eye, the knuckles of that hand raw and scraped. He was limping from some damage Viktor couldn't see, and his shoulders were hunched like he was protecting bruised ribs. But he smiled the instant he saw Viktor and limped faster, coming straight to him to curl his hand around Viktor's neck. "I'm fine," he said quickly.

"This is fine?" Viktor asked mildly.

"I mean... Nothing's broken?" Jayce said sheepishly.

"We checked!" Powder said, not at all reassuringly.

Vander came out of the bedroom wearing a clean shirt and shoved himself back down the narrow stairway to go tend the bar.

"Unbroken," Viktor informed Jayce sternly, "is not fine."

"He did okay," Vi said. She got a fresh coldpack out of the freezer and brought it over to swap out for the one over Jayce's face. Jayce's eye wasn't actually blackened, just had a bruise over the eyebrow. "He held me off for almost thirty seconds, and I didn't even manage to break his nose." Her eyes shifted to Jayce. "Still say your face would have a little more character if you've broken your nose a couple of times."

"I like his face the way it is," Viktor bit off pointedly, and then looked at Claggor. "And what happened to you? I thought Vi and Jayce were the only ones fighting."

Mylo barked out a laugh and ducked when Claggor tried to smack him for it. Powder giggled.

"That's my fault," Jayce said. "I sort of. Uh. Threw Vi at him."

"You--"

"Just bad timing," Claggor said quickly. "There was this--"

"I do not believe I wish to hear more," Viktor said firmly. He found a clean dishrag and ran enough water on it to make it damp, then turned and pointed to the stairs. "Basement, now," he told Jayce. "I am going to clean your face and double-check these not-broken bones."

Jayce started to protest and Vi interrupted him. "Go take your punishment and reassure your man, Piltie." She winked at him, punched his shoulder lightly, and then linked her arm through Powder's. "Come on, let's get a drink and let the lovebirds have a couple of hours."

"You never give me an' Circe a couple of hours," Mylo grumbled as he turned to slump back down the stairs toward the bar.

"That's 'cause Pretty Boy already paid for the first round," Vi told him, following with Powder. "Pay me off, and we can talk."

Claggor offered what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile before bringing up the rear of the procession.

Viktor waited until the clump of feet had reached the bottom of the stairs before looking at Jayce again. "Paid her off?"

Jayce shrugged. "I wanted a little time with you to unwind, and we're all sleeping in the same room."

Viktor smiled slightly. "There is a curtain around the bunks."

"Yeah, yeah, and you warned me, I know," Jayce said. "It's okay, I'll be okay. It's really nice that Powder's willing to share with Vi for a few days so we're not sleeping on the floor, actually. But it's been a really long day and I just want you to myself for a bit."

"Acceptable," Viktor decided. "After I clean you up and check your injuries. Down to the basement, now. Go."

Jayce did not, as it happened, have any broken bones. And he endured Viktor's cleaning with sheepish grace. When Viktor was done, they awkwardly arranged themselves on the narrow bed, Jayce half-sitting and Viktor laying against his chest. "I remember these bunks being slightly larger," Viktor mumbled against Jayce's neck.

"You were eighteen when you left," Jayce pointed out. "And even skinnier than you are now." His arms wrapped Viktor warmly. "I don't mind being so close."

"Mhm. But I do not think we can have sex in this bed."

Jayce chuckled. "That would be pretty rude to Powder anyway, yeah?"

"You are being remarkably tolerant," Viktor said, twisting to examine Jayce's expression. "This is a great deal for you to endure. Cramped quarters that you have to share, unfamiliar food, being hazed by my family, no sex... I expected some complaining, at least in private."

"It's only for a couple of days," Jayce pointed out. "And I'm sure I'll bitch about how sleeping like this has fucked up my back when we get home." He picked his own head up to meet Viktor's eyes directly. "I'd go through a lot worse than this to make you happy."

Viktor found Jayce's hand and pulled it closer to kiss the ring he'd put there, and then the scraped knuckles. "I am already very happy with you. Please stop letting them abuse you for their own amusement."

Jayce brushed his fingers lightly over Viktor's hair. "Does it make you feel better if I say they gave me some pointers, too?"

"Not at all." Viktor laid his head back down on Jayce's chest. "Will you now tell me why you really wanted me to stay behind?"

Jayce stopped breathing for a few seconds, then blew his breath out in a sigh. "Didn't buy my bullshit, huh?"

"I did not."

"I... You're going to be angry."

"I am already angry, a little. I would rather be angry over the truth than a lie."

"I didn't want to say it in front of your family."

"I will accept that excuse if you tell me the truth now."

"You don't like violence."

Viktor grunted. "I do not. I am not squeamish, however, and I am your partner."

"I know you're not squeamish," Jayce protested. "I know, I promise, you've wrapped up more of my injuries--"

"Yes. It only took seven years for you to overcome your aversion to safety gear."

Jayce laughed softly. "It took seven years for us to start dating. How else was I going to get you to put your hands on me before that?"

Viktor sat up to give Jayce an unimpressed glare. "Now I am mad about that, too."

Jayce just grinned. "Worth it."

Viktor rolled his eyes and directed them back to the point. "I wanted to be there to support you. You were already subjected to an entire afternoon of Silco's grilling, without me."

"They didn't want you there, mi corazon. They didn't want you to try to defend me, because they wanted to know that I can defend you."

"I do not care what they want."

"You do. Or at least, I do, because I want their blessing. I want them to feel like I'm good enough for you, whatever that means to them. I want them to feel like they can trust me to take care of you."

Viktor growled. "I do not need you to take care of me. Or for them to arrange for my care as if I am an invalid."

"I know that, you know that I know that. But you take care of me all the time, and sometimes I like to return the favor. Look, if you don't want their blessing anymore, we can grab our bags and go home right now, tonight. But if you still want it, then I have to play this by the rules." Jayce caught Viktor's chin and held it until Viktor met his gaze again. "Not your rules, V. Theirs."

Jayce held Viktor's gaze for several long seconds, earnest but firm, and this time it was Viktor who gave in, sighing as he laid back down. "Their rules say I have to prove I can protect you," Jayce said gently, fingers scratching soothingly through Viktor's hair, stroking down his back like a cat. "And I could do that... but not with you there, because I wouldn't have been able to split my attention between Vi's tiny, diamond-hard fists and trying to shield you from having to watch it."

"You don't have to shield me from anything," Viktor pressed.

"You don't even like watching superhero movies," Jayce pointed out. "I know you could handle it if you had to. But you didn't have to."

"Jayce--"

"I told you that you'd be angry," he said mildly, and planted a kiss in Viktor's hair. "You mad enough to make me sleep on the floor?"

Viktor closed his eyes and let out a long, almost reluctant sigh. "No. But you don't get to protect me from anything else on this trip. Do you understand me?"

Jayce squeezed him tighter. "Yeah, I hear you, V."

Chapter Text

The next day was, thankfully, less busy. They slept in some, though their habitual waking time at home meant they still woke up well before anyone else, because the rest of the family was on the bar's schedule. They spent a couple of hours sitting in the kitchen on their laptops, poking at their research data, and then Viktor took Jayce out so they could explore the Lanes together.

Viktor introduced Jayce to a few old acquaintances, forced him to eat some truly horrifying Zaunite cuisine (and one or two absolutely amazing things), and took him to see the few landmarks that were still around, ten years after Viktor had left. They went back to the market so Viktor could do his own shopping while Jayce studied his haggling technique, in case Silco decided to spring a pop quiz on him later.

When they got back to the Last Drop, all the kids except Powder had gone off to their respective jobs. Powder had an air purifier disassembled across one of the bar tables and was trying to figure out how to jimmy in a nonstandard filter and possibly also increase throughput, while Vander was cleaning and restocking and generally tending to the day-business of the bar. Silco, they were told, was upstairs in the office trying to make sense of the previous evening's accounting, and shouldn't be interrupted until the cursing had died down to a reasonable level.

They both offered to help Vander with the cleaning and were waved off, so Viktor wound up sitting across from Powder to help her with her project while Jayce retrieved the spare parts he'd picked up at the market the previous day, and the toolkit he carried everywhere, and settled in to tinker. He sat at the table next to Powder's -- close enough that he could join in the conversation, but far enough that their various pieces and parts wouldn't get mixed up.

From what Jayce could overhear, Powder was at least as smart as he or Viktor, even with much less schooling than either of them had at her age. He wondered if she might want to come to the Academy, the way Viktor had. He made a mental note to talk to Viktor about it later; if she wanted to attend the Academy, Jayce wanted to sponsor her. Hell, she could live in their guest room, probably. If Viktor was okay with it. And the dads, of course. Silco hadn't seemed too keen on Piltovrian education.

But Powder was too smart to miss out on all the opportunities that education could bring. She could get her degree and move right back to Zaun, use it to help people. There was so much that she could do to improve things here, and despite a penchant for mischief and a certain whimsical approach to form factor, she had a good heart and a clear desire to help people. Jayce wanted to nurture that.

...Maybe he should reconsider Heimerdinger's offer of a teaching position.

Or maybe, he thought, watching Viktor patiently explaining the principles that made Powder's device work, he should encourage Viktor to teach, instead.

"You're good with her," Vander said, when Jayce wandered behind the bar to wash the machine oil from his hands.

"I've barely said six words to her," Jayce countered. "It's Viktor who's actually helping her."

"No. Well, yeah, Sprocket's good with her, too, and it's great he's teaching her how to fix the damned purifiers, they're always on the blink. But I meant, just... Talking to her. She's... She can be a lot. Her moods are all over the place and they change without warning, and sometimes she sees things that aren't there, and when she's in a bad place, they talk to her, too. Gotta admit, I was a little worried how you'd react."

Jayce scrubbed carefully under his fingernails to give himself a minute to figure out how to respond to that. "Speaking as someone who was also a lot when I was growing up... It's fine. It's not a problem. My stuff wasn't like hers, but it wasn't entirely unlike hers, either. I've had an extra decade or so to find ways to handle it, and I had the good fortune of someone to help me."

Vander grunted as he lined up the glasses under the taps. "I know she oughta be on some kinda medication for it, but that stuff is hard to come by in Zaun, and expensive as hell when you can find it."

"Maybe. If she and her voices aren't hurting herself or anyone else, then maybe she should get to choose, even if you did have access to the doctors and medications. And if she did want that, she could get help in Piltover. Viktor and I would help, no question. But that wasn't what I was talking about, when I said help." Jayce dried his hands and pointed. "Viktor was the first person who never once asked me to change my behavior, just because it was annoying or weird. Even my mom wanted me to learn how to act normal so people would accept me. But Viktor... Even when he did ask me to make changes, he always had a good reason for it, and it wasn't just knock it off, Jayce, you're driving me crazy, it was I'm having trouble concentrating, can we find a compromise? or I'm worried you're going to hurt yourself like that, can we adjust things a little? and it was always we and not you, he was always ready to help me figure it out."

He could see Vander looking at him from the corner of his eyes, but Jayce's gaze was still fixed on Viktor, patiently explaining things to Powder. "I knew I was weird, by the time we met, but he never once made me feel weird. And it's funny, but knowing he didn't mind my weirdness actually made me act a little less weird. Less anxiety about it or something, I guess. So when I said someone to help me, that's what I meant. I hope Powder's got someone like that in her life, someone who just lets her be herself. Invites her voices to the table, if they have something to say, and doesn't try to make her pretend that her mood is anything but what it is. Someone to help her figure out how to do the things she wants to do when her stuff is actually causing problems."

Vander's massive arms folded across his massive chest and he leaned against the bar and sighed. "I think damn near everyone in Zaun has some kind of... stuff going on. Things are better now, but we've all been too fucked up for too long for anyone to have come out of it anything like normal. Mostly we just grit our teeth and keep on going, because the only other option is to let the bastards win." He flashed a grin at Jayce. "In case you're wondering, you're one of the bastards."

Jayce laughed, and Viktor looked up, smiling at the sound, and cocked his head questioningly. Jayce made some kind of hand motion that meant I'll tell you later, and Viktor understood it, reading Jayce's mind as he usually managed to do, and went back to helping Powder screw the case back onto the purifier.

"Come on," Vander said.

"What?"

Vander chuckled. "Stop staring at my son like a perv and let's go see if they've managed to fix the damn thing."

"He's twenty-nine," Jayce protested, even as he followed. "He can take a little staring from his partner."

Vander's hand nearly covered Powder's entire head as he messed up her hair. "How's it going over here?"

"Almost ready to plug it in!" Powder said cheerfully. "It'll either work, or it'll explode and blow up the whole bar. It's anyone's guess!"

Jayce glanced at Viktor, eyebrows raised. Viktor smirked back. "It is hard to be certain, when you're adding fissile plutonium to the power core," Viktor said, very seriously. "Could stabilize the amplitude, could cause a small thermonuclear explosion. Could go either way."

"Ahhh," Jayce said knowingly. "Well, whatever happens, we won't be as concerned with aerial particulates afterward, and that's what's really important."

"Exactly!" Powder said. She gave the last screw a twist and danced the purifier over to the nearest socket. "Everyone hold your heinies!"

She plugged it in and hit the switch. The fan wheezed a little and then caught a rhythm and began sucking the air into the filter. Powder let out a triumphant screech so loud that Jayce thought they might hear it all the way down at the market. "We did it!"

"You did it," Viktor corrected, smiling fondly. "I merely advised. The next one, you will do yourself, and explain it back to me as you go. This will help to cement the principles in your mind."

Powder whooped again and then pulled Viktor into one of those Zaunite forehead-touch-hug-equivalents for a second or two. She was practically dancing as she unplugged the purifier and started lugging it back to its usual place. Jayce dropped into the same chair he'd been using before. Vander sat across from Jayce, the chair creaking ominously.

"You're a good teacher," Vander told Viktor. "She's excited to have someone around who can actually talk to her about all this stuff."

"I am enjoying it," Viktor said, still fond as he watched Powder, now dragging the purifier toward the stock room.

"You were always good with kids, even when you were one," Vander said. He leaned back in his chair. It creaked again, louder, but didn't collapse under his weight. Viktor wasn't looking as Vander caught Jayce's eye and-- winked at him? "You know, while Sil and me are sizing up your partner, here, we should make sure he can give you good, strong babies."

Jayce, having had at least a little warning, shouted out a laugh as Viktor choked on his own air and then turned a sharp glare on his father. "I think we can skip that qualification," he growled.

"I mean, actually..." Jayce said, affecting an innocent look as Viktor turned the glare in his direction, "I did make you a robot." He held up the little contraption he'd put together while he was tinkering.

Vander was laughing now, his chair tipped back on two legs as he roared out his mirth.

Viktor said something short and sharp in his native tongue, still glaring.

It wasn't a curse that Jayce knew, but the tone was unmistakable. Jayce gasped and covered the robot with his other hand protectively. "Don't use that kind of language in front of our son!"

Viktor's mouth twisted as he tried to hold onto the irritation, but between Vander's guffawing and Jayce's poorly-suppressed giggles, it was only a matter of seconds before Viktor cracked, and then they were all laughing, gasping for breath and poking at each other. Every time one of them tried to stop, one of the others would attempt to say something and they all just fell apart again.

When Jayce finally managed to stop laughing, scrubbing his sleeve across his face to mop the tears away, he found both Silco and Powder standing nearby, watching them with bemused impatience.

Viktor had put his head down on the table because just looking at Jayce or Vander kept setting him off. He was trying to breathe slowly, but he kept hitching into little scattered giggles every few seconds.

Vander, still letting out an occasional chortle, scooped the robot out of Jayce's clutches and held it up. "Look, Sil!" He paused for another chuckle. "It's our--" Snicker. "--our first--" Chortle. "--first grandkid!" And he went right back to full-on belly-laughing, and Jayce had to scramble to catch the robot before Vander dropped it.

Silco rolled his eyes. "Why do I even bother?" he muttered, but Jayce was pretty sure he was smiling as he turned to go back to the office. Powder, on the other hand, was enthralled. "Oh wow, it's so little! Is that what you were making? What does it do? What are you gonna name it?"

Viktor looked up, very carefully not looking in Vander's direction, and said, "Yes, Jayce, what are we naming our son?"

Jayce set the 'bot back down on the table and switched it on. "I was thinking Blitzcrank," he said, "but of course I'd love to hear your opinions." To Powder, he added, "He doesn't do much, yet. I haven't had time to hook up him up to my laptop and program him yet. He can accept some simple voice commands for movement -- forward, left, right, back -- that kind of thing." He smiled as it obeyed the instructions, ending up close to where it had started.

"He does look like a Blitzcrank," Viktor agreed. He kissed Jayce's cheek, his eyes sparkling. "Well done, miláčku."

"So cool!" Powder dropped down next to the table to look at Blitzcrank closely. "Do you have more parts? I want to make a monkey!"

Chapter Text

Viktor woke, back and hips already screaming for having spent the night in such an awkward position for the second night in a row. But they hadn't been able to find any other way to squeeze into the bunk. Both of them were too tall to lay down unless their legs were hanging off the bed, and folding them up just took up more space. So they'd slept with Jayce half-sitting, propped up on their duffle bags, and Viktor sprawled mostly on top of him, Jayce's legs and arms wrapped around him.

He clenched his teeth around a groan -- this was still better than the floor -- and glanced up to see that Jayce was already awake. Viktor stretched, carefully unraveling the tangle of their limbs. "I will be glad to sleep in our own bed tonight," he muttered.

Jayce nodded fervently, making the shadows shift in the dark circles under his eyes. "I'm glad we came," he whispered, curling his fingers through Viktor's hair and down his shoulder. "But next time we visit, I'm bringing an inflatable mattress."

Viktor nodded agreement, and didn't say anything about how warm it made him feel, that Jayce was already assuming they'd be back. He buried the sappy smile against Jayce's neck until he could get it under control, and then cautiously unfolded himself from the bunk.

They made their way upstairs and into the kitchen. Jayce slumped into a chair at the table and opened the laptop while Viktor coaxed the coffee maker into functioning. He stood at the counter and watched it drip, half-desperate for the caffeine.

When it finally finished, he poured two cups and set one on the table near Jayce's hand, then cradled the other in both hands, willing the heat to soak into his aches. "Okay," he said, once he'd had a few sips and could think in words again, "how many outliers did we get on this batch?"

Jayce grumbled under his breath and pulled up the charts, and Viktor leaned into his side as they considered their results. "I think I need to reconsider the wiring," Jayce said. "Adding a variable resistor at the third gate would probably flatten some of these spikes."

"Why the hell are you awake?" Silco demanded from the doorway.

Jayce startled and twisted around to look at him. "Sorry, were we being too loud?"

"No, it was the smell of coffee." Silco grabbed his own cup and squinted at the coffeemaker. "Oh, good, you left enough for me."

"Sorry," Viktor said absently, still considering the data analysis. "It is our habit to be in the lab at this time. Also, Claggor snores."

Silco waved off the apology and hummed as he sipped from his cup. "Piltie coffee," he observed, and tried it again. "Not bad. I wouldn't want to get used to it, but bring an extra bag the next time you visit."

"I will endeavor to remember," Viktor said, taking another sip to hide the warm smile he couldn't suppress, because Silco, too, was making assumptions.

"Did you save any coffee for me?" Vander asked, lumbering into the kitchen. He beelined for the coffee pot.

Silco scoffed. "As if I'd take all the coffee and then have to deal with your complaining?"

"Why are you both up so early?" Viktor demanded. "This should not have woken you."

Vander shoveled sugar into his coffee. "You didn't tell us what time you were heading back topside, and we wanted to be sure to see you off. Sil didn't tell you yet?"

"I was going to draw out the suspense a bit longer," Silco said. "Spoilsport." He swatted Vander's arm.

Vander didn't seem to notice. He finished fixing his coffee and leaned against the counter. He looked at Jayce over the rim of his cup as he lifted it to his lips, then gave a little nod. "You have our blessing."

Jayce lit up, bright enough to power the entire district. "Really? I-- Thank you. Thank you." He looked from Vander to Silco and then turned to Viktor. "Viktor, hey--"

"Yes, of course I am going to marry you, idiot," Viktor said quickly. The last thing he needed was for his fathers to see how embarrassingly sappy Jayce could be.

Vander snorted. "Very romantic."

"I was already very sentimental when I asked him," Viktor grumbled. "That is enough romance for one month."

"You already asked him?" Silco interjected.

"Beat me to it," Jayce agreed fondly, rummaging in the laptop bag. "I was holding out for our anniversary. Ah-ha!" He produced the box containing Viktor's ring, holding it up in triumph. "I knew it was in there!"

"You put it in the-- Never mind, just give it here." Viktor held out his hand for the box.

"With his family's blessing?" Silco prodded.

"Of course I asked his mother first," Viktor said absently, his eyes on Jayce, or more specifically, on the box Jayce was holding and not handing over. "You did not raise me to be an ill-mannered cretin. Jayce, give it--"

Jayce did not give Viktor the box. Instead, he delicately plucked the ring out himself, then took Viktor's grasping hand and turned it over to slide the ring onto Viktor's finger.

Viktor could already see tears raising in Jayce's eyes. He looked down at the ring instead, that beautiful purple and gold swirl, and could almost imagine his mother's hand covering his. A final blessing, that his partner, his fiancé had given to him.

He couldn't, he supposed, tease Jayce too much for getting teary-eyed. Not when his own vision was blurring as well.

"So, tell us about it, then," Vander said. He folded himself into his chair with a grin. "What did she make you do?"

Viktor blinked until his vision cleared before looking up at Vander. "What?"

"For her blessing," Vander said. "What did she make you do?"

"Oh. Ah. Nothing, really."

"It can't have been nothing," Silco scoffed.

"She made him drink coffee and eat cookies," Jayce said with a snort. "Mama adores Viktor, she would never deny him anything. I'm about seventy percent certain that if I'd said no -- which, to be clear, wasn't ever going to happen, but if it did? I'm pretty sure Mama would have kept Viktor for her son and kicked me to the curb." He grinned at Viktor.

Viktor smirked back, and only then noticed the startlingly serious looks that Silco and Vander were exchanging. "...What?"

"It's not about whether she likes you," Silco said.

"It's not even about whether you're good for him, not really," Vander added. He glanced at Jayce, faintly apologetic, and shrugged.

"It's about proving how much you want it," Silco said. "That you're not going to just give up as soon as things get difficult." He glanced at Vander, smiled slightly, then turned to Jayce. "Give me your phone. I have to explain this to your mother."

Jayce fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it.

"Jayce!" Viktor protested.

Jayce ignored him, the bastard, but told Silco, "You realize that if you contact my mom, she's going to want to insist on meeting you, like, as soon as possible. And she will insist that you help plan the wedding."

Silco paused in the act of reaching for the phone. "We can meet at the wedding. That we will have nothing to do with, because--" He gestured succinctly, encompassing the whole building, and possibly all of Zaun.

Jayce just shrugged and smiled smugly and very pointedly set his phone on the table, well within Silco's reach. "She is absolutely going to tell you that a bar is a great place to have a reception."

Viktor stared at him in horror. "She would not."

"I mean, it's probably not on the list that I'm sure she's already started making for us, but when she finds out it's in the family..."

"I want to meet your mother," Vander said, and somehow he'd picked up Jayce's phone without anyone noticing. "And to help plan the wedding." He smirked at Silco, whose look of distress was slowly fading into resignation. "Last wedding I got to help plan was Felicia and Connol's."

"Who--"

"Vi and Powder's parents," Viktor supplied absently, trying to grab the phone away from Vander. "Vander, please--"

Vander's thumbs were too big for texting, really, but he was poking gamely at Jayce's phone with one finger and fending off Viktor without even really trying. "Just how much do you want to marry him, Sprocket?" He glanced up at Viktor, one eyebrow raised pointedly.

"I-- More than anything, but--" Viktor floundered. Vander nodded, and poked one more time, sending the message.

Viktor looked at Jayce, who had the temerity to look amused. "We can sign the papers at City Hall and then have a nice dinner," Viktor said firmly. "I don't want any fuss and bother."

Jayce snorted. "I realize I only just started learning how to haggle two days ago, but do you honestly think Mama is going to let you off that easily?"

Viktor opened his mouth to assert that of course Ximena would respect his and Jayce's wishes for their own wedding, but before he could say anything, Jayce's phone buzzed with an incoming text.

And then buzzed again.

And then again.

With each fresh buzz, Vander's expression became more and more delighted.

Silco sighed and got up. "I have work to do. Make sure I get her number before you head home," he told Jayce. "I will... try to keep some kind of rein on Vander." He eyed Vander's excited expression sourly. "But I make no promises."

Viktor slumped in dismay. And then, because Jayce was the primary source of Viktor's comfort, even when Jayce was sometimes the reason he needed comfort, Viktor leaned against his fiancé's side, wriggling until Jayce put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head fondly.

"The thing I want most in all the world," Jayce said softly, "is for you to be the one standing next to me and saying I do. All the rest of it -- the food and the traditions and the fancy clothes? That stuff is just details. If Mama and Vander are going to enjoy the planning... They can have it. All I need is you."

Viktor sighed, and watched forlornly as Vander enthusiastically continued texting Ximena. About details. Food and traditions and fancy clothes. Nonsense. A waste of time and money.

Viktor didn't care about food. He never had. He forgot it more often than he remembered.

But he did have to acknowledge that he'd dragged Jayce to Zaun specifically to respect a tradition. Another few traditions might be something he could live with. He might even consider looking into traditions from his parents' homeland, from before they'd come to Zaun.

And... Jayce would look stunning in formal wear. Utterly delectable. And then Viktor would get to peel him out of it on their wedding night.

He sighed again. "Fine," he muttered. "We can have a little bother." He pointed at Vander. "Tell her that Jayce must have a white tuxedo. I will help her select it."

He glanced up to find Jayce already looking at him, eyes full of love. And tears. "We're gonna get married, V."

Viktor allowed himself exactly one (1) moment of sentimentality, firmly ignoring the little voice reminding him that nothing made him want to give in to that urge more than the man he planned to spend the rest of his life with. He touched the ring Jayce had put on his finger, and whispered, "In all timelines."

"In all possibilities," Jayce whispered back, and kissed him.

On the other side of the table, Jayce's phone was buzzing happily as Jayce's mother and Viktor's father texted eagerly.

And for just that one (1) moment, that was exactly as it should be.