Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jayce had never been a slave before. His life was in shambles— the Romans had conquered his home, ripping him from the Iberian palace that he had flourished in ever since he was a child. His tools of the forge had been swapped for heavy cuffs around his neck and hands. They dug into his limbs painfully with every slow step.

His loss of freedom was not even the most horrible occurrence. He was one of the lucky ones. One of the few men and women that had walked away from the massacre unscathed, spared from the sword only to be forced into a life of servitude.

Most of the palace occupants had been taken as prizes, Jayce included. But his mother… oh gods, his mother. Had she managed to escape from her cozy home in the village surrounding the palace? Was she thinking about him right now, wondering what had become of her son?

He couldn’t let himself dwell on the pain between his ribs that had nothing to do with his physical state. He needed to be sharp, needed to avoid succumbing to the mindless despair that slithered after him with every step. He turned his attention to the back of the leading Roman officer instead.

Silco. He rode ahead on his beautiful russett stallion, a magnificent animal that Jayce hoped he was treating well. The man was ruthlessly efficient. He had arrived with his sizable army, cleared the surrounding area, and taken the capital city within a week. Jayce had known his fate was sealed as soon as Silco plunged the Roman banner into the palace ground.

And now, here Jayce was— plodding through the outskirts of Rome, holding his head high despite the loud cries and jeers of the multitude surrounding Silco’s triumphant entry. He knew the mob wouldn’t hurt any of them. After all, they were property now, and no self-respecting Roman citizen had time for a damaged slave.

The ivory buildings on every side of the procession reached to the skies. The noise was deafening. There were vendors in the streets, crying their wares. Children throwing flowers into the air, worshippers carrying offerings above their heads to any of the dozens of nearby temples. Perhaps they were onto something— the Iberian gods had not saved Jayce.

The procession stopped suddenly. Jayce stumbled, barely catching himself from falling to the dusty ground as the chain connected to his neck and wrists jerked forward. They had halted in front of one of the most grand buildings in all of Rome, the home of the consuls.

Jayce was about to be paraded before a group of the most powerful men and women in all of Rome. They would decide his fate— whether or not he should even be sold in the public market at all, or if he would instead be offered to one of them as a personal gift.

The group’s members had been elected rather recently, but the reputed cruelty of the previously seated consuls’ was well-known. The newly elected consuls could very well decide to have him executed as a proclamation of Roman superiority. He was utterly powerless before them.

Several centurions walked down the length of the procession, choosing the most impressive slaves or artifacts to be taken inside and presented to the consuls. Jayce strained his eyes to see who else was being taken inside. A shock of red hair made his knees go weak with relief. Vi had survived, and she was a part of this very procession. She would never have allowed herself to be taken alive if Caitlyn wasn’t nearby, perhaps farther ahead in the crowd of newly captured people.

A centurion stopped in front of Jayce. The manacles stayed firmly around his neck and wrists, but the centurion disconnected the chains tying him to the people behind and in front of him. Jayce knew his face was probably on fire from the rough handling, not that anyone remotely cared about his dignity.

The centurion turned without a word. Jayce walked quickly to follow in step behind him, forced to stay uncomfortably close to the armored man if he didn’t want to trip and fall. Marble steps passed under his aching feet as they trooped into the house of the consuls.

The inside was a cavernous space, sweeping arches revealing near endless corridors as they were marched through the northernmost hallway. Jayce knew he was sweating profusely, but at least it was so brutally hot outside that it would be excused. He might never see the outside of this building again.

Jayce was one of ten or so slaves that had been chosen to be presented to the consuls, along with a variety of artifacts that had been stolen from the Iberian palace. The gilded edge of a painting of the royal family being carried mocked him as he marched. He had known the people depicted by those solemn brushstrokes, could easily recall the sounds of their voices. All of them were gone.

He was shuffled none too gently with the others into a circular room, seven seats elevated above them. Vi was at the opposite end of the line, but Jayce tried to catch her eye. From her position at the front of the line, she probably didn’t even know he was alive.

Silco stepped in front of the company, his guards temporarily leaving his side to stand threateningly in front of Jayce and the others. The room was flooded with light as several sweeping windows were opened simultaneously by servants. Would Jayce be one of those workers soon?

“Most favored consuls,” Silco began smoothly. “I have brought before you today a small portion of the spoils I have collected from my successful conquest of the Iberian kingdom. They have long resisted the might of Rome— but no longer. With your permission, I wish to submit the majority of the goods to the public markets, where the revenue will be used to fund the Roman armies and a smaller portion reserved for my humble estate.”

The consul seated nearest to Jayce cocked her head at Silco’s statements. The light cream color of her airy toga was a stark contrast against the deep shade of her skin, gold highlights adorning her face. “Your success is not contested, and you have surely enhanced the glory of Rome and this beautiful city. But have you truly decided to come before us and offer up not a single portion of your vast spoils? I do not think even such an ambitious man as you could be so pretentious.”

Silco bowed smoothly at her words, a pleasant smile already gracing his features. “Your words are as insightful as ever, consul Mel. I am sure you will not be the only one pleased to hear that the men and women you see before you have been hand-selected by myself to be presented as gifts. They are all former members of the Iberian palace, relatively learned despite their inferior education.”

“Each of them was identified as an occupier of various positions at the former palace.” He turned his piercing gaze to Vi, Jayce, and the others in turn. “The red-haired woman is the former captain of the guard. Her combat skills are exceptional. She is aggressive, yes, but I am sure that she can be instructed in the Roman way with careful foresight.”

Silco gestured behind him to Jayce with a measured sweep of his arm. “This man was the head blacksmith in all of Iberia, and his forge was located and used by the king himself. I do not need to speak of his physical prowess… or the variety of possible applications.”

The blond consul in the second seat to the left smiled with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Indeed,” he said simply. His predatory gaze was not hard to miss.

Silco continued to describe each of them in turn, moving on to the variety of artifacts that his company had successfully robbed the palace of. Jayce kept his head high. He refused to cower before these people who had simply had the privilege of being born into near-royalty. The seven consul members paid little attention to any of them individually, instead directing the full measure of their calculating focus at Silco.

At last, the floor was opened. “I now encourage the blessed consul to take advantage of this exceptional selection. My men will hand-deliver your selected items to your estates.”

Consul Mel stood up gracefully, splaying her hands out on the marble table. “We shall make our selection in the order of our respective elections to consulhood. I will begin, followed by consuls Ferros, Shoola, Bolbok, Tariost, Viktor, and Salo.”

She turned her gaze to Jayce, inspecting him silently for a long moment. He did not let himself look away. Could she see the hate, the pain, the despair in his eyes? Would that draw her in or push her away? She finally shifted her attention to Vi before nodding her head with finality. “A truly remarkable female specimen. It would be foolish of me not to take advantage.” Consul Mel left her spot at the dais to approach Vi, skating graceful fingers across her bicep as she inspected her.

Vi’s eyes finally found Jayce’s. There was a silent question posed in their depths. Should she incapacitate this woman, knowing it would end in her own death? Jayce shook his head covertly. It wasn’t worth it, and he couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

Mel soon left the room to enter an adjoining chamber with Vi in tow. Jayce’s fingers clenched against his thighs, powerless to stop them. What were the odds he would see her again? She turned to look back at him at the last second, nodding her head in farewell. The heavy thud of the chamber door echoed in the cavernous space.

Jayce could feel consul Salo’s eyes burning across his figure. If no one selected him beforehand, he would end up as the man’s pleasure slave. The thought made him want to claw his own skin off— anything, anything would be better than that.

Consul after consul passed over him. Yet again, he was met with long looks each time before they pivoted to select another slave. Did they see something unfavorable in him? Or worse, were they purposefully leaving him for Salo to stay in the consul’s good graces?

Silence fell over the chamber. One of the consuls stepped into the light, his chair previously shaded in the darkest section of the room.

He was… beautiful. Wavy hair framed sharp cheekbones, his skin pale and smooth. He held a polished cane securely in his right hand, nearly hidden in the silken blue fabric that draped off of him. His eyes were the most striking part of him— amber and ruthlessly sharp. Jayce had little doubt that anything escaped his attention. This had to be consul Viktor.

The consul descended the marble steps of the dais gracefully, his cane causing soft clicks to echo through the arched room. Jayce stiffened as those searching eyes slid across the others to meet his gaze. Viktor was coming to him.

Jayce resisted the urge to retreat a step as Viktor approached, the tap of his cane ceasing as he stopped in front of him. This close, he could see the two moles that dotted the other man’s face, one gracing his cheekbone and the other just above his mouth.

He did not take his eyes off Jayce even as he spoke to Silco. “Tell me more about this one,” he requested in a soft, accented voice.

“Of course, consul Viktor,” Silco replied. “He is well-educated, fluent in Iberian, Latin, and Koine Greek. Physically exceptional with only minor defects. His mastery of smithing and forging is quite unusual for a foreigner— several of the weapons and tools first used by the Iberian guard were born of his careful designs. We know little of his more personal qualities, but those are rarely relevant. I have no doubt that he would make a fine slave for nearly anything you may require of him.”

Consul Viktor nodded at the information, shifting his weight near imperceptibly as he reached out. Jayce did not move a muscle. If this man did not select him, he would be swiftly taken in by consul Salo. He could feel the blond’s eyes on him even now, barely containing his jealousy at Viktor’s close proximity to Jayce.

A cool, soft hand met his cheek as consul Viktor directed his head this way and that to observe him from every side. Jayce barely repressed a jerk back in surprise. He did not know whether to lean in or push away— he had not been touched so gently since his home and life had been destroyed three weeks ago.

Viktor’s hand dropped back to his side. “What is your age?” he asked Jayce directly. Jayce’s mind raced even as he opened his mouth to respond. Should he lie? Was there a coveted age bracket for slaves? What if consul Viktor’s personal preference was different than the standard?

“Twenty-six,” he answered truthfully, and then gasped and hunched forward as searing pain shot across his abdomen. The centurion standing beside him returned the butt of his spear to the polished floor.

“Show some respect, slave,” Silco hissed. “Belongings do not look into the eyes of their masters.” Jayce desperately blinked back tears at the lingering pain as he nodded his head stiffly. If he was not permitted to look them in the eyes, at least they would not see the barely contained rage at his brutal treatment.

Viktor sent Silco a sharp look. “I have no need for my honor to be upheld by anyone but myself, Silco.”

Surprise flitted across Silco’s shrewd features, but he recovered well. “Of course, consul. My oversight was born of my respect for you, yet I apologize.”

Jayce did not see Viktor’s nonverbal response, his gaze now steadily trained on the floor. His feet were bleeding, he realized dimly. Walking miles upon miles in flimsy sandals would do that to you, he supposed.

Viktor’s voice dragged him from his thoughts. “I take responsibility for his ownership. Your generosity is appreciated.” A flood of emotions nearly made Jayce’s knees buckle. He was a slave now. A free man no longer, sold to an unknown man in an unfamiliar country. This would be the end of his life, because his life was not even his any longer.

No, now it belonged to this strange man clad in beautiful blue, one of the most powerful people in all of Rome. When consul Viktor took hold of his cane and led him forward into an adjoining chamber, Jayce followed in a daze. His dissociation was a welcome reprieve from the myriad of aches and pains attacking nearly every inch of him. He could only hope that Viktor might care.

The adjoining chamber they entered was a small meeting room. An open window and connected balcony looked out over the chaotic beauty of Rome, several plants lightly waving in the breeze.The sounds of the city were audible even here. Viktor sat down on a velveted chaise, placing his cane beside him smoothly.

Jayce realized that he should be kneeling. Not eager for another beating, he crashed to his knees, barely repressing a cry of pain at the strain on his tender muscles. Viktor seemed to stiffen at the motion— he must already be failing, disappointing his new master and inviting in further punishment and pain.

Viktor motioned for his personal guards to stand outside the entrance, giving them relative privacy. No. They were going to be left alone, and why would Viktor want a new, inexperienced slave all to himself if not for something he assumed Jayce was already proficient in? Salo’s leer resurfaced in his mind every time he closed his eyes. He had thought he’d escaped such a fate, only to end up in the hands of a similar man who had the grace to be more discreet.

Viktor remained silent for a moment, simply observing him. The wait was torture. If he was to be— if he was to be used, Jayce would rather just get on with it. His pain would only increase the longer he was made to kneel.

A pale hand settled under Jayce’s chin, lifting his face up firmly but carefully to force eye-contact with his new superior.

Was this a test? Should he still avert his eyes, even when made to be face-to-face with his master? There were no nearby spears, but Jayce had no doubt that Viktor’s cane could easily break a rib if so desired.

“Look at me, please,” Viktor commanded. It was a direct request, one he would be expected to obey no matter the consequences. Jayce raised his eyes to settle on Viktor’s face. There was something undecipherable in his gaze, although his expression was arranged in a pristine manner that gave little away.

“You are under my jurisdiction, and mine alone.” Ah. So he wanted to hammer in just who Jayce belonged to, how little control he was now left with. “Silco’s… ideals,” Viktor continued with a slight frown, “are different than my own. Simple eye contact is not worthy of punishment. I would like to know when I have your attention.”

Jayce nodded slightly, unsure if he was allowed to speak. Viktor seemed to realize he was still holding Jayce’s face, and he let go hastily. “Physical punishment is not something you will encounter at my estate.”

He paused, perhaps gauging his reaction. Jayce kept his face carefully blank, although internally the wave of relief that flooded him was near dizzying. It was probably not a good idea, however, to show Viktor just how hopeful the declaration had left him.

Viktor reached for his cane, placing it securely on his lap. Jayce stiffened before forcefully relaxing his cramping muscles. Even if Viktor was lying about the physical punishment, he should display nothing less than absolute trust in him.

“I do not have slaves,” Viktor said abruptly. “Only servants, and they receive pay and lodging for their help. You may be my slave legally, but I will not deprive you of wages for your work, provided you do a sufficient job.”

Jayce couldn’t keep his eyes from widening. He was to be paid? That was truly different from any conception of slavery he had ever heard. Viktor nodded at his apparent surprise. “My approach to many things is considered eccentric by society’s standards, but I find it to be vastly superior.”

“Including,” he continued, “personal identification. I would like your name, or a name that I may call you in place of it if you wish.”

“Jayce,” he replied on instinct, wincing at the drag of his vocal cords against his parched throat.

“Jayce,” Viktor repeated, his accent cupping the word in such a way that Jayce had the inexplicable urge to shiver.

“There is much for you to learn and get acquainted with, but I am sure you are exhausted. We will return to my personal villa, and you may rest there before your instruction begins.”

Jayce nodded again, hoping he could express his gratitude nonverbally over the murder of his vocal cords. Viktor stood up, and Jayce prepared to follow him.

Oh fuck. His calf muscles had locked up, effectively paralyzing him in his current position. He could not get up. He had been told to follow; it was not an option to continue kneeling on the floor. Viktor would think he was obstinate, would think he was lazy, and this was occurring immediately after Viktor had told him the truly unprecedented and merciful way that he would be treated…

Viktor did not miss the growing panic on Jayce’s face even as he tried to conceal it. “You cannot move out of that position.” It was not phrased as a question, but Jayce nodded anyway, his face burning.

Viktor wavered a moment before he sank down into a crouch, face-to-face with Jayce. “May I touch you?”

Jayce knew the answer expected of him. Still, Viktor had not moved, apparently waiting for his permission. He searched Viktor’s deep gaze for only a moment longer before nodding.

He braced as Viktor reached out. The soft silk of his clothes brushed Jayce’s knee as cool fingers met his thigh.

Viktor’s thumbs moved in a circular motion, kneading into Jayce’s sore muscles as he coaxed them to uncramp and relax. It was heavenly.

He struggled not to lean into the touch, his gaze drifting absentmindedly to Viktor’s cane. Perhaps his new master was also intimately familiar with the aches and pains of the body.

A particularly firm motion drew a startled gasp out of Jayce before he could collect himself. Viktor’s hands stilled instantly.

“Was that painful?” Viktor asked. The question seemed earnest.

Who was this man? Crouching down to massage his sore muscles, asking for permission before touching him, stopping at the first hint of pain? He wasn’t just treating Jayce well— he was treating him like an equal, like they were somehow on the same social standing.

Jayce realized he had been silent for a beat too long. “No,” he croaked belatedly. “Thank you. I think I can stand now.”

Viktor hummed, the sound strangely melodic. He lifted out of his crouch with the aid of his cane.

Jayce began to stand up tentatively, surprised at the disappearance of his pain. His calf muscles felt loose, relaxed even. The persistent ache was gone.

“Shall we go, Jayce?” Viktor asked softly. He had used his name— had remembered it to use in the first place.

Jayce fell in step behind consul Viktor. His new life was just beginning.

——

Jayce shifted in his new sandals. What were the odds the library was currently occupied? It was his favorite place to be when he wasn’t working or chatting with the other servants in the estate’s expansive gardens.

It has been two months since he had joined Viktor’s household and been led through the bustling Roman streets to a collection of interconnected villas nestled in the hills on the city outskirts.

He had received consistent wages as promised, and never been phased with physical punishment, or any punishment at all.

Jayce did not see Viktor all that often, who was constantly busy with city-mandated work or projects. He wasn’t even entirely sure the man ever slept— it was one of his most frequent duties to keep the lanterns of Viktor’s personal quarters lit.

Now, he was weighing the odds of whether he would encounter the consul if he were to enter the estate’s library. He had been given full permission to explore and peruse as long as he was careful with the manuscripts, and it was still difficult for him to accept that he had been given such a privilege.

It was another issue entirely, however, to take advantage of the library while it was already occupied, and especially by Viktor himself. Jayce hesitated a second longer before deciding to chance it.

He pushed open the heavy door silently. The library was quiet… and occupied. Viktor sat at the desk located in the middle of one of the library’s three alcoves. He looked to be pouring over some type of chart, today robed in a beautiful emerald green tunic.

Jayce moved to retreat, but he was too late. Viktor looked up, meeting his gaze with those striking amber eyes.

Something flickered across his face, but Jayce didn’t think it was disappointment.

“Do not leave on my account, Jayce,” he said simply.

Jayce tipped his head in respect. “Thank you,” he replied. The words were earnest. The consul’s collection of books was truly spectacular— there were works in a range of languages, covering a variety of topics from natural philosophy to mathematics.

Viktor nodded in response. The motion made a strand of caramel hair fall in front of his face, and he tucked it back behind his ear absentmindedly. Jayce didn’t know why he tracked the motion out of the corner of eye, as he was usually so careful to keep to himself.

He was curious about what the other man was looking at. Viktor was clearly well-versed in a wide variety of disciplines if his personal collection was anything to go by.

Jayce drifted to the wall of books nearest to Viktor, bypassing the scroll section that required a lengthy table just to fully unroll them. Would Viktor tell him off for getting so close to him?

It appeared not. If anything, Viktor moved a little to the right. The shift in position offered Jayce a clear view of the schematics Viktor was studying, diagrams and cross sections of a future aqueduct. Had his subtle motion been deliberate?

It seemed unusual that Viktor wouldn’t mind— even actively desire— for Jayce to get a look, but nearly everything his master did seemed to be intentional.

Jayce ached to ask about the schematics as his gaze flitted over them. One of the cross-sections looked like it utilized chord tables, a relatively new mathematical invention that related the lengths of a triangle’s side to each other.

His curiosity won out. “Consul, are those chord tables?”

Viktor took his sudden question in stride, almost as if he had been expecting it. “They are. The city has commissioned several new aqueducts to transport water to the city borders. ”

Jayce hummed, drawing closer despite himself. “And is the consul currently working on potential designs for construction?” The paper laid out before him was full of half-sketched forms and mathematical figures.

“I am,” Viktor affirmed. One of the figures was circled— a beautifully sketched design that emphasized the fluidity of the aqueduct’s arches… except for the ends of the structure, which looked as if they would experience undue strain.

Jayce wavered. It would be beyond arrogant for him to offer his own thoughts, to even imply that he could provide meaningful advice to the consul. But hadn’t Viktor let him look at the designs in the first place, and treated him so kindly from the moment Jayce had come under his jurisdiction?

He spoke despite the increased pounding of his heart. “If the consul will permit me to speak… this design is aesthetically pleasing and fluid, but I think it could place some undue stress on the sides of the aqueduct.” He pointed to the design near the center of the manuscript. “Adding reinforcements to these areas would maintain the structural integrity while keeping the simplicity of the design intact.”

Viktor did not immediately respond, and Jayce cringed at the silence as Viktor’s gaze returned to the design. He had embarrassed himself, and perhaps now Viktor was affording him the grace of pretending Jayce hadn’t spoken at all.

He was just about to stutter out an awkward apology when Viktor’s narrowed eyes widened and he twisted back around to look at Jayce.

“I believe you are correct,” he breathed. “I went over the figures again, and a pair of reinforcements is definitely in order. You have saved me an hour of wondering where my mistake was.”

Jayce could feel his face grow hot. He had not expected such praise of all things for his unsolicited contribution. “I— thank you, consul.”

A small but genuine smile split the consul’s face. “You are most welcome. And it’s Viktor.”

Jayce let his own smile shine through.

“Thank you… Viktor.”

——

Jayce was different. Viktor had known it as soon as he laid eyes on him, the man tall and broad with an intelligent gleam in his eyes.

Viktor should've recognized from the start that although blacksmithing required exhaustive strength and a stocky build, it was also a craft, demanding creativity, precision, and passion.

All qualities that he had seen in Jayce from the very beginning, wrapped in a deceptively handsome package. He had not initially planned to select Jayce— there was no need to taunt himself with the embodiment of physical and mental perfection.

But he had not missed the way Salo looked at Jayce, and glimpsing the first sign of fear in Jayce’s eyes had prompted him to make his choice. No one deserved such a hopeless fate, least of all someone who could offer so much to the world.

Jayce had been tentative at first. Justifiably suspicious of him, excruciatingly aware of the inherent power dynamics between them.

Viktor had tried to give him space, holding in his own curiosity about the Iberian blacksmith. He softened the distance with nods of recognition when he saw him, offering him access to his personal library and purposefully leaving out schematics of previous projects.

Viktor’s patience was rewarded. Slowly, slowly, the real Jayce had begun to shine through. The man with boundless curiosity who prided himself on a job well-done, who would sit silently among the flowers in the garden when he thought no one was looking.

Jayce frequently socialized with the other servants, and Viktor had heard him speaking in several languages, his pronunciation flawless in each foreign tongue.

And his smile. Viktor knew Jayce enjoyed reading in the library, and he had taken to working there in the hopes that Jayce might one day choose to join him.

He had been able to tell that Jayce was quite curious about what Viktor was working on, and so he had shifted to give him a better view, silently offering Jayce an opportunity to speak his mind.

Jayce had found one of Viktor’s mistakes! A sole correction was usually meant as a subtle jab against Viktor’s capability, but Jayce had spoken so hesitantly, so earnestly, that there was no way Viktor could possibly hold it against him.

He had thanked him, and, at last, Jayce had smiled. He had finally witnessed the sight he had been wondering about for months, and it was well worth it. It transformed Jayce’s face, crinkling the corner of his eyes and baring the slight gap between his teeth that Viktor now wanted to explore with his tongue.

It was foolish of him to get so attached, to think that Jayce could ever hold any sort of positive feeling for him when Viktor technically owned him, even as uncomfortable as the thought made him.

Jayce was everything that he could never have, tantalizingly close but oh-so-far. He would have to content himself with coaxing out that smile yet again, inviting him to pour over manuscripts and schematics together, perhaps taking a walk or two with him in the estate’s garden. He could be happy with the smallest moments spent in Jayce’s company.

He should have known that such a precious thing could never last.

Chapter Text

The soft twang of the lyre echoed through the courtyard. Jayce could never get enough of watching Viktor play— the way his pale fingers flew across the instrument positioned in his lap, the delicate pull against each string before his hands would fly away again to play another note. They sat around the marble dais leading down to a circular pool in the middle of the courtyard, fish lazily swimming about in the pool’s cool waters.

The courtyard outings between them had become a regular occurrence. Jayce would finish his household duties (or postpone them for later, if neither of them could bear to wait), while Viktor would gather the diagrams and papers for his newest project, along with his lyre. They would pour over them together, swapping thoughts and ideas. When it became too dark to see, Viktor would begin to play.

It was hard for Jayce to think of little else. Sure, his work around the house kept him busy for a few hours. But it was Viktor who was so emotionally and intellectually stimulating, who listened to his ideas and thoughts and seemed happy, even eager, to hear them.

Jayce would never have thought he could look at someone in such a position of power over him with anything more than contempt. And yet… with the increasingly familiar tone of their growing relationship, he didn’t often think about the fact that they were technically master and slave.

They had long abandoned the need for titles— consul Viktor was only Viktor, or Vik, or V, when Jayce was feeling particularly bold. Viktor wasn’t so fond of giving nicknames, but the affection in his eyes when he looked at Jayce and the easy way he talked to him were more than enough.

The last note of Viktor’s song rang out through the night air. Jayce stilled where he had been lying by the pool, letting his hand drift to and fro through the water while he listened.

“I haven’t heard that one before. It’s very beautiful.”

Viktor laughed softly. The sound never failed to make Jayce’s insides feel inexplicably warmer, like his body itself was responding to the joyful sound. Viktor did not often laugh, and when he did, Jayce treasured it.

“It is a children’s lullaby,” Viktor explained, “but I am also very fond of it.” His voice took on a more wistful quality. “My mother used to sing it to me when I was very young, and even after my childhood for quite a long time.”

Jayce’s eyes widened. Despite the near infinite list of subject matter that they had already covered in their conversations, neither of them brought up their respective pasts very often. It was a reminder that they had not in fact grown up together or become friends by pure coincidence. They had each been born into worlds that the other could never hope to touch.

“What was she like?’’ Jayce asked softly.

Viktor did not speak for a moment. “Kind,” he said at last. “I was a very inquisitive child, but she never turned me away. Even when I could not leave the estate to play with the other children because of my malformed leg.”

Jayce hummed. “I’m surprised that you weren’t allowed to leave. I’ve never seen your leg get in the way of anything you set your mind to.”

Viktor’s vision grew a little darker. “It was my own decision. It was not that I couldn’t get around, but that I was not well-received by my… playmates. It was safer for me to stay near the adults.”

Jayce knew Viktor would likely bolt at the first sight of pity, but he hoped that the frown overtaking his own face wouldn’t be perceived as such. “That’s horrible. Kids can be awful. I guess I have an inkling of what that’s like, though. I struggled to make friends a lot when I was younger.”

Viktor turned with a surprised look to face Jayce from where he had been staring off into the night pensively. “How could you ever struggle?”

Jayce blinked. “What do you mean?”

Viktor opened his mouth as if he was going to say something more before he hesitated. “You’re… intelligent. Well-built. Friendly. It simply surprised me that your peers would not want to be friends.”

Viktor thought he was well-built? Jayce could feel a blush beginning to creep up his face. “Oh. Well, uh, thank you. I think I was always just a little strange compared to the others. I would get obsessed about some new idea and wouldn’t shut up about it to anyone else for weeks. I’ve always been stocky, but I was also quite a bit shorter as a kid. So… you know. A little pudgy,” he explained with a self-deprecating laugh, absent-mindedly scratching his neck with the back of his hand.

“What a pair we would’ve made,” Viktor mused with a smile.

“I think if we’d known each other for that long we’d have probably created our own language by now,” Jayce observed.

Viktor let out a startled laugh. “Probably so. Latin-Iberian.”

Jayce hummed. “Something like that.”

They were quiet for a moment, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. The crackling of the lit lanterns and the low hum of the crickets filled the night air in their mutual break from conversation.

“Is your mother also with the spirits?” Viktor asked at last.

Jayce winced. He could never decide whether it was better or not to allow his mom into his thoughts. He missed her. Gods, he missed her more than anybody else in the whole world. But dwelling on it only brought the pain of not knowing if she was alive, of wondering whether she was even aware of his own existence.

“I don’t know. I don’t believe in any specific afterlife, but somehow I feel like I would know if she was gone.”

Viktor nodded slowly. His amber eyes gleamed in the firelight as they caught Jayce’s gaze. “I am sorry, Jayce. I would pray for you both if I had enough faith in a god to pray to.”

Jayce’s eyes widened. “I thought you professed faith in the Roman gods?”

Viktor sighed. “I had to, if I wanted any chance of being elected— most citizens believe a non-pious official would incur the gods’ wrath. I guess I do not not believe in any deity, for that matter. They have all just seemed to me rather unconvincing. How could a concept so man-made explain the infinite?”

“Yeah,” Jayce breathed. “Exactly.”

Viktor attempted to shift his position before hissing in pain. Jayce sat up instantly against the smooth stone.

“I’m fine, Jayce” Viktor assured him, waving a hand to dispel his concern. “It’s just been too long since I’ve made time to go to the public baths.”

Jayce knew that Viktor could easily handle himself, but sue him. It was hard to suppress his knee jerk reaction to help, and he hated seeing anyone he lo— cared for— in pain. “Oh, I’ve heard about those,” he said.

The public Roman baths were famous even outside of Rome; Jayce had known about them when he was living in Iberia. They were colossal in size, filled with pools, massage rooms, libraries, restaurants, and just about anything else the average Roman citizen could possibly come up with. “Do you go often?”

“Less than I’d like,” Viktor replied with a rueful sigh. “I usually accept a little assistance from Lucia but they are sex-segregated, and I do not like to be touched by people I don’t know.”

That made sense. Lucia was the most matronly servant in the whole estate, and one of the only people in the house comfortable enough to tell Viktor off if he wasn’t eating or sleeping.

“I could help,” Jayce offered without thinking.

Viktor blinked. “I… you would do that?”

Jayce hesitated. He knew he was ignorant about the finer points of Roman society and etiquette, and there could very well be something he was missing. “...Of course. That would be an acceptable thing to do, right?”

Viktor’s face seemed to flatten slightly. “Yes, of course. Perfectly normal. I would very much appreciate your assistance, Jayce.” Friends went to the baths together all the time. Jayce was only assuming what any decent, opposite-sex attracted person would do— it was Viktor who was making this awkward for him, adding layers of subcontext that Jayce had not originally intended.

Viktor could feel the slight flush gracing his cheeks, but he could reasonably blame it on the night’s humidity. He would only need to find a much better excuse for any flustered behavior when he and Jayce went to the baths together, gods help him.

“Ok, great!” Jayce beamed. “I’ve always been curious about them. There’s nothing like them in Iberia.”

“Really?” Viktor inquired, genuinely curious. The conversation slowly migrated to safer topics, and by the time they decided to call it a night, Viktor had nearly managed to banish the anxious thoughts from his mind. This would only be a big deal if he made it so— as long as he could keep his composure, nothing in his and Jayce’s dynamic needed to change. The thought was so reassuring, he could almost convince himself it was true.

——

Jayce had felt strangely tense all week. He had been a little on-edge ever since his and Viktor’s original conversation about the baths, although he couldn’t point to a specific reason why. Was it the arrival of the hot season? The weather had taken a sweltering turn, and even a couple of minutes in the garden left him sweating like he was doing something much more strenuous.

Viktor had even moved their daily conversations inside in his own effort to escape the heat. Suffice it to say, Jayce had been feeling distinctly unclean ever since the heatwave arrived. Maybe the baths visit would do them both some good— Viktor had said that their hot springs were usually most popular, but the baths had cooler rooms available for when the climate was just like this.

Now he and Viktor were weaving through the din of the Via to the baths, sidestepping laughing children, busy carts, and crammed stalls at every turn. Jayce stuck close to Viktor’s side— the man’s dexterity was downright impressive. He weaved through the crowds with an easy grace, cane and all, as if he had never existed anywhere else.

Which was true, Jayce supposed. He was the newcomer here, the recent arrival into the Roman way of life. Even the crowd seemed accustomed to the brutal heat. Scoring a spot under the market’s shaded awnings was a double-edged sword; you were allowed a coveted spot as long as you were actively perusing the wares, or the merchants would shoo you to the curb.

Viktor paid no attention to the several centurions spread through the crowd even though they made the hair on Jayce’s arms stand on end. Those scarlet capes signaled peace to the Roman populus, but they were a sign of anything but to Jayce. He still had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that he was now integrated into the society that had taken him from his far-away home.

Viktor’s pale fingers slipped through Jayce’s own, tugging him to the side just as a particularly loaded cart rolled by.

“Careful,” he said with a rare laugh, his hair curling slightly from the heat. Jayce laughed self-consciously. The Via and surrounding market were so distracting he had almost gotten himself flattened.

“Thanks for keeping me from getting run over,” he said ruefully.

“Anytime,” Viktor replied. “We’re close to the baths now; it’d be a shame if you were incapacitated before we got there.”

Jayce hummed in agreement as they continued to weave through the constant stream of passerby. He was so caught up in the sights and sounds of the marketplace that it took him a second to realize Viktor’s hand was still held securely in his. But maybe that was intentional? Viktor probably just wanted to make sure he didn’t almost get himself killed again.

Jayce tried to set his overthinking tendencies aside. He could see the baths in the distance— the marble building was topped with a beautiful dome that soared above the surrounding buildings. It was only a block away from the Forum, which explained at least a portion of the heavy foot traffic in the immediate vicinity.

After a short walk, they finally stood in front of the baths. There were three arching entrances, each manned by a guard with a respective line of bathers. Jayce squinted, realizing elegant phrases were carved into each of the arches’ stone faces. Pro Patriciis over the rightmost arch, Pro Plebeis written above the center, and Pro Servis to the left. ‘For the Patricians,’ ‘For the Plebeians,’ and ‘For the Slaves.’

Jayce’s stomach tightened. Would he be allowed to enter with Viktor in the first place? He had to be, he reasoned, or Viktor wouldn’t have brought him knowing they would be separated… but not every Roman official was nearly as kind as Viktor.

Viktor seemed to read Jayce’s thoughts, following his gaze to the slave entrance. “You’ll enter with me,” he reassured. “It won’t be a problem.”

Sure enough, they were quickly shuffling through the fast-moving Pro Praticii line before they were waved through. Barely a glance was paid to Jayce, although that was likely typical. Slaves were either expected to accompany their masters or take themselves over to their specific entrance.

The thought left a sour taste in Jayce’s mouth, but he tried to push them aside. He wasn’t here to enjoy the baths, but to aid Viktor in any way he required first and foremost. It would be better for him and everyone else involved if he remembered those facts.

They entered into a cavernous, circular space. Jayce looked up— sure enough, they were in the domed atrium that he had spied from all the way down the Via. Corridors led away from the atrium in a layout similar to the spokes of the wheel.

A woman in a purple-clad tunic flitted past, her eyes scanning over Jayce keenly before she nodded at Viktor approvingly. She didn’t stop for a conversation, but the moment seemed to make Viktor bristle. He led them both wordlessly to one of the corridors on the east side of the atrium. Had Jayce already made some sort of mistake?

“I’ve reserved a private room here,” Viktor said suddenly. “Less of the prying eyes and… politics that so often accompany these places.”

Ah. Jayce should have known. Even here, Viktor was part of an intricate political dance that Jayce had not been aware of. Forging connections, discussing matters of the city or populace, catching the gaze of other influential people he already knew… and if Viktor was under such constant scrutiny, then Jayce by extension as his accompaniment would be under the same watchful eyes.

The connected corridor was significantly less crowded than the busy domed atrium. Murals lined the sloped walls, tiled scenes showcasing citizens that lounged in chaises, conversed in the baths, or perused the selection of offered fruits and wine.

Notably, they were all completely nude.

The sudden realization hit Jayce so suddenly he almost stopped short. Oh. Oh. He had naively assumed that there were some sort of modesty garments present when it came to public bathing, but that was just what his initial assessment had been— naive. Viktor’s earlier comment about the sex-segregated nature of the baths was making more and more sense.

Oh gods. He was going to get naked in front of Viktor— Viktor was going to get naked in front of him. How the hell had this not occurred to him earlier? Viktor’s quick change of facial expression from their initial chat about the baths shone in a new light. Jayce in his typical spur of the moment fashion had not realized the extent of just what he was suggesting.

He must have put Viktor in a very awkward position with his further clarification of whether it was a normal thing to do. Of course going to the public baths with someone you knew was “normal,” but it was another thing entirely to suggest it with someone who you didn’t know particularly well, and whose personhood you also owned in the eyes of the law, for that matter. What kind of slave would suggest such a thing?

Jayce realized with a start that he was not moving, his feet still planted firmly in front of the revealing murals. Viktor looked back inquisitively as the last echo of Jayce’s following footsteps died.

“Ah, the murals,” he mused, backtracking in a couple of steps to stand beside Jayce. “Elaborate, aren’t they? They were a semi-recent installment of consul Salo to the baths. The money could have been spent better, in my opinion. But he did not ask me,” he finished with a sardonic smile.

Jayce needed to say something. He needed to get over whatever the heck was going on with his thoughts, and right now. Viktor was seemingly unbothered at present, so he couldn’t have completely fucked things up with his stupid request.

“Yeah,” Jayce managed roughly. “Sorry, just got a little distracted.”

Viktor shook his head lightly, retucking a strand of wavy hair behind his ear when the action knocked it loose. “I do not mind. At least someone can gain some enjoyment from them.”

Jayce was sure to stay beside him when they both turned to continue down the corridor, reaching the curtained partition set up at the end.

Even the cloth of the curtain was stitched with a beautiful pattern, gold coins and pomegranates lining the edges. The fabric rustled as Viktor pulled it aside with a steady hand, stepping inside with Jayce not far behind.

“As little wood as possible was used in the baths’ construction because of all the water involved, so no wooden doors, either. The curtains are obviously a less private installment, but no one will disturb us,” Viktor explained.

Jayce realized that, for once, Viktor was doing more of the talking. Was he compensating for Jayce’s unusual silence? An earlier comment about the dreadful nature of small talk resurfaced in his mind. Surely Viktor would not force himself to make idle conversation just for Jayce’s benefit. Did Viktor tend to talk more when he was excited? Or, perhaps, was he just as nervous as Jayce was?

“That makes sense,” Jayce managed. “I doubt the patrons would be fond of moldy doors at every corner.”

The private room Viktor had reserved was elegantly furnished. Several sconces lined the walls, candles flickering idly that gave the room a cozy, removed atmosphere. There were a couple of chaises spread around the edges of the room, but the majority of the space was taken up by the square pool in the center, water bubbling gently.

The water must have been connected to a colder offshoot of a network of hot springs. A table with an inviting spread of fruit, wine, and honeyed nuts lined the left wall, and a few closed doors leading elsewhere (to a sauna? A set of closets?) were situated not far from the table.

Bathing garments of any sort were conspicuously absent. The message was clear— any and all bathers were expected to disrobe, just as the murals had depicted.

Jayce snuck a glance at Viktor. He would absolutely be following the other man’s lead. Viktor was leaning over the table, and he popped a purple grape into his mouth.

He made a pleased sound that had Jayce blushing. There was no way he could do this. No possible way…

Viktor interrupted his thoughts by turning towards him gracefully, pivoting on his cane. “Have you ever tried Pompeiian grapes? The volcanic soil they’re harvested from really does influence their taste.”

Jayce crossed over to the inviting table despite himself. There was no backing out now; he might as well try to enjoy himself. He grabbed a couple of grapes from the bunches that overflowed the silver bowl they were arranged in.

Sweet juice exploded over his tongue as soon as he bit down, and his eyes widened despite himself. They really were amazing.

“My thoughts exactly,” Viktor hummed, grabbing a few more for the short trip to a nearby chaise.

He bent over, setting his cane beside him as he began to untie the twisting strips of his sandals from his thighs.

“Do you know the schedule for visits to these kind of baths?” Viktor asked while deft fingers continued their work. Jayce shook his head in reply before remembering Viktor’s gaze was focused on removing his sandals.

“Not really,” he confessed. The admission made him a little nervous even though he knew Viktor would never hold it against him.

Viktor shot him a quick smile. “Good. I don’t usually follow the prescribed pattern of tasks and rooms whenever I visit.”

“We’re supposed to go through several rooms?”

“Most people do. Undressing and bathing comes first in one room, then sweating in a separate room to rejuvenate the skin and rid the body of any excess dirt. A series of massages comes next, and then patrons are free to choose their next activity— visiting the in-baths library, the palaestra for wrestling or boxing, and so on. It may surprise you to know that I don’t often participate in that last activity.”

Jayce let out a startled laugh. He had a feeling that Viktor would actually be quite the formidable opponent in the arena, especially if he was armed with his solid bronze cane.

“I think you’d be able to hold your own, for sure. What routine do you follow when you visit the baths?”

“Generally just the bathing portion, although I sometimes peruse the baths’ scroll collection. I always end up setting aside the time to visit when my pain is more significant than normal, so I don’t stay long.”

Jayce sobered. “And how is your pain today?”

“A visit is overdue,” Viktor said evasively. He finished untying one of his sandals and set it aside before beginning on the other.

Right. He should probably begin the process of undressing too, even if he didn’t have as many layers as Viktor did. It would be weird to stay fully clothed when Viktor was… not.

Viktor made quick work of removing his outer layers once the cumbersome sandals were out of the way.

Jayce looked up at Viktor before ducking his head back down quickly when he realized Viktor was further along in a state of undress that he had expected. The image he had just witnessed floated in his mind all the same. Viktor’s salmon-colored tunic was folded neatly beside him, only his basic undergarments remaining. His bare collarbone and shoulders gleamed in the soft, flickering light.

Jayce kept his gaze fixed firmly downward until he heard the quiet splash of Viktor entering the pool. He hadn’t stopped to consider the opacity of the water— hopefully not crystal clear.

Jayce didn’t linger in removing the rest of his own clothes, folding his garments beside the chaise as Viktor had done. The ball of nerves in his stomach was a constant ache. This was fine. It was fine. As long as he didn’t make it weird, it wouldn’t be.

Jayce stepped into the pool from the opposite side where Viktor was situated. It was a small mercy that Viktor was apparently very interested in examining the closest tile of the bath relative to him, affording Jayce some much needed (if temporary) privacy…Jayce had no doubt Viktor was indulging his distinctly non-Roman discomfort.

When the chilled water came up to Jayce’s mid-torso, he let out a small sigh that he hadn’t known he’d been holding. It would probably be interpreted as a sigh of comfort, anyhow.

The water really was pleasant, and an extremely welcome full-body reprieve from the suffocating heat outside. The small room felt tucked-away, miles removed from the chaos of the market that was within walking distance.

Jayce cracked his eyes open. He had closed them on instinct when entering the water, but now he had to admit he was achingly curious to see what Viktor was doing.

Watching him, apparently. Jayce swore his pulse instantly kicked up a few notches as soon as their gazes met.

Viktor’s form was perfection. But really, should Jayce have expected anything less? His skin was achingly free from scars and bad memories in comparison to Jayce’s own, the smooth expanse only interrupted here and there with clusters of dark moles. Their shade perfectly matched the hue that Viktor’s hair took when wet, the ends curling slightly where they were stuck to the delicate length of his neck.

And those eyes… amber in the flickering light, and a piercing honey color in the shade. If Jayce wasn’t so aware of Viktor’s staggering intelligence, he might have assumed that his place among the consuls had been scored by virtue of his looks alone.

“The water really is refreshing, isn’t it?” Viktor said, his accents curling around the words in a way that only further melted Jayce’s brain.

“It is, much better than the heat outside.” The strength of his own voice surprised him. At least he could act normally, even if he was secretly dying inside.

“I always put off coming here, and then act surprised at how wonderful it is,” Viktor mused with some irony.

Jayce had never realized how much a person’s throat flexed when they talked, the way you could trace the motions of the tendons down, down, down…

“You’ve always got so much on your plate, though,” Jayce said, admittedly eager to defend Viktor from himself.

“But not as much anymore, with your contributions,” Viktor pointed out.

If only he knew how truly selfish the help from Jayce was… He never minded lending a helping hand in general, but it would be dishonest not to acknowledge just how much Viktor in particular stoked the desire in Jayce to help.

“You know how much I enjoy it,” Jayce responded truthfully. “If anything, you’re the one doing me a favor by letting me contribute to projects that aren’t really mine.”

“Ours,” Viktor corrected, as if the words didn’t break Jayce in two.

Jayce tried valiantly not to let any of his turbulent emotions show on his face, but he knew it would be a losing battle. Worse yet, he had been informed from previous experiences that the flush of his skin did not stay contained to his face when he blushed. The pink tint would travel down his neck and over the top of his chest, Jayce’s embarrassment be damned.

He suddenly felt achingly self-conscious. He rarely disliked his body— it had always been, and still was, one of the sole things under his complete control. He wasn’t blind; he knew the form itself was desirable. But the memories etched across his skin… those he felt much less charitable to. He had ample scars and old burns littered across his body from blacksmithing and various accidents— the most likely candidates for the minor “defects” that Silco had offhandedly mentioned upon his transfer of ownership.

It must have shown in his face or body language, because a small furrow appeared between Viktor’s dark brows.

“Are you— is something wrong?” Viktor asked, uncharacteristically tentative.

“No, no,” Jayce was quick to assure him, his hands leaving the water to wave the notion away. He hesitated. Something in him ached to tell Viktor at least the partial truth, to not hide what he didn’t have to in order to preserve their relationship.

“I just imagine that I, uh, probably look quite a bit different from this portion of the baths’ visitors.”

Viktor cocked his head to the side infinitesimally, a sign of genuine confusion. “How so?”

Jayce was only digging himself a bigger hole. “I’m not a clean slate. Physically, I mean. I just have— a lot of scars and things, from blacksmithing or when I was a kid. I know some people don’t really like to see them.”

The corners of Viktor’s mouth pulled down into a frown.

Fuck. Jayce had accidentally insulted him, implied that Viktor wouldn’t want to look at him, which was fair considering he was Viktor and Jayce was, well, Jayce, but that had still been rude of him, and he needed to apologize or do something, or better yet just stop talking altogether before he could make it worse—

Viktor’s words cut through his racing thoughts. “Only a fool could look at a body like yours and come to such conclusions,” he said rather spiritedly, his own cheeks flushing when his mind caught up with the words that had left his mouth.

Jayce’s mouth snapped shut from where he had been forming a half-baked apology. “Oh,” he managed. “Thank you.”

He looked impossibly flustered, although Viktor was sure that he appeared no better. He hadn’t stopped to consider his own words, and now more of his admiration was out in the open than he would’ve normally allowed. At this point, he might as well continue.

“We are not so different,” he continued, his throat slightly dry. “Physical marks, mental scars— the world rarely leaves us without reminders of memories both good and bad.” He turned slightly to the right, allowing Jayce an unhampered view of his bare back.

Pink and white scars snaked neatly up his spine, stopping at the base of his neck before they could branch off to travel over his shoulders. Jayce was silent, and Viktor didn’t dare meet his eyes. “The anatomy of the human spine is only beginning to be understood, but I was the recipient of an experimental corrective surgery in my youth.”

His voice hardened minutely. “I did not want it. The pain, the extensive scarring… but I will admit that now my spinal mobility has significantly improved.”

The only sound in the room was the gentle bubbling of the water. Jayce still had not spoken, and Viktor forced himself to meet the other man’s gaze as he turned back around, his back pressed safely out of view against the bordering tile of the pool.

The indecipherable twist to Jayce’s mouth was terrifying. “It was the end of open-back tunics for me, to say the least,” Viktor tried to comment flippantly.

“Viktor,” Jayce said at last, as if the spell of quiet had broken. The way he said his name made Viktor feel vaguely dizzy.

“They forced you to do that? Against your will?” Jayce’s face was breathtakingly open, his emotions visible on his face in a way that directly opposed every careful rule of Roman society.

Viktor shrugged uncomfortably. “Nobody wants a crippled son, least of all a high-ranking government official.”

“Gods, that’s horrible,” Jayce breathed.

“Why do you think hot days have no effect on my wardrobe?” Viktor questioned shortly. He knew his back was unsightly, but direct confirmation of the fact was altogether different.

“No, not like that!” Jayce shook his head roughly. “Your spine doesn’t— it doesn’t detract from your beauty at all. It’s a part of you. I just can’t believe you would be forced to undergo that kind of procedure at such a young age without your explicit consent.”

Jayce let out a disbelieving laugh, his hand running through his wet hair absentmindedly. He had drifted closer to Viktor, no longer on the complete opposite side of the pool. “I know it’s not my place or any of my business, but I’m— I’m angry for you. Who the hell would do that, and to their own kid?”

Viktor’s world shifted back into place on a different axis than before. He had had it all wrong. It was not discomfort or disgust or pity that Jayce was levelling at him, but anger on his behalf. Viktor could have laughed at his original assumption of Jayce’s reaction. This was Jayce— and when had he ever proven to be like anyone else Viktor had ever met?

‘Your beauty’ Jayce had said, the words only now registering in Viktor’s mind. However Jayce had meant it, platonic or not, the comment left a warm feeling in Viktor’s chest that was difficult to explain and even harder to contain.

He placed a hand on Jayce’s shoulder without stopping to think it over, pleased by his reaction but not eager for him to get too worked up.

Jayce stilled instantly at the contact. It was bare skin on bare skin, sudden contact that was achingly intimate. Viktor let his hand fall back into the water with a small splash. How had it been a gesture from him that required so little thought? Something about Jayce challenged every one of his rules about careful observation and withdrawn touch or affection.

They were close, Viktor realized. How else could he have felt the firm heat of Jayce’s bare shoulder beneath his fingertips?

“It’s alright,” he heard himself say. “What was done is done, but it is… meaningful to me that your response was not the pity or veiled disgust I am so used to.”

“Of course,” Jayce breathed. “... it’s how anyone halfway decent would respond.”

Viktor was losing control of this situation. He needed to do something, anything, but it was harder and harder to think with Jayce filling his vision, the golden-brown expanse of his chest shuddering as if it was hard for him, too, to breathe.

Viktor’s own breath was stuck in his throat. Jayce’s thigh was a sudden brush of heat against Viktor’s knee, nudging it gently to the side from where he was sitting on the underwater ledge at the pool’s border.

It felt like a dream, like the dreams that Viktor had done everything to ignore. He couldn’t let himself have this, but he only needed to prolong this solitary moment forever— There were endless reasons why he needed to return to his senses, but gods he wanted this, wanted it so bad. If he was the only one in his way, what would it cost him to step aside?

He could eternally survive in this aether of blurred lines and hazy thoughts where Jayce returned his want just as fiercely as Viktor was willing to give it, where the heavens had aligned in a configuration for them that wasn’t doomed from the very start.

Jayce’s hand found his side, his warm palm cupping the side of his waist, large fingers barely grazing his rib cage, and Viktor knew he was finished. He was Icarus flying towards the sun, embracing his own demise with the warm welcome of inevitability by his side.

Viktor closed the distance. It was heaven, even if only for a moment. Jayce’s soft lips parted against his own, half in surprise or some unspoken emotion. Only a single beat passed before he was surging forward against Viktor’s mouth, pushing him back so that his spine was pressed back against the lip of the pool.

His fingers raked through Jayce’s hair (how had they gotten there?) as Jayce tilted his face gently, one of his hands wrapped firmly around Viktor’s waist as the other traced a searing path across the underside of his jaw, and then the side of his face.

Jayce’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip, and a sigh deep in Viktor’s chest escaped him at the motion. He let himself breathe Jayce in for only a moment longer, learn how to miss Jayce’s touch even as he experienced it. The opportunity was stolen, and his time was up.

Viktor pulled away from him with a gasp, cold water splashing against his skin in contrast to the fire that had been there only a moment before. This was wrong on so many levels— Jayce couldn’t love him, Viktor fucking owned him, and now he had just taken advantage of Jayce’s position, pretending the affection was real as if it wasn’t a temporary respite for Jayce spurred on by Viktor’s own kind words. Jayce didn’t want this, he couldn’t.

Viktor did, and he had somehow managed to convince Jayce of the same, regardless of his best interest. If he had planted the subliminal seed of desire in Jayce’s mind, then he could learn to withstand the agony of uprooting it before he ever let it grow.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor gasped, scrambling up from the ledge and over the lip of the pool. Jayce was frozen, his eyes so vulnerable they hurt to look at.

Viktor yanked his tunic back on with shaking hands, tying up his sandals faster than he had ever done in his life.

“Vik—” Jayce began, a hand reaching out entreatingly. His voice cracked before he could finish the word, but Viktor didn’t let him anyway.

“We shouldn’t have— I’m so sorry, Jayce. It won’t happen again. It can’t, for your sake as well as mine,” He forced the words out through gritted teeth, not bothering to dry the wet hair that was soaking fabric to his back.

He jerked his head away before the tears could fall, before he could possibly see any of Jayce’s own. In what world had he thought this would be ok?

A splash signaled that Jayce was leaving the pool, and Viktor bolted. He couldn’t talk to Jayce— he knew himself too well. He would give in, reach out for those warm arms once again. He wouldn’t give in, he had to do it for Jayce. No.

“I have to go,” he choked out, the slightest brush of Jayce’s fingers burning a trail across his arm before he ran. He fled, like the coward he was.

“Viktor, wait—” Jayce called, pleaded. Viktor didn’t let himself look back, and Jayce did not follow him, not when he would be completely naked in the foyer. Viktor cut through the atrium as fast as he could as Jayce presumably dressed, his cane clanking angrily against the tile.

The guilt was blistering. If he had any gods to believe in, he would have to spend the rest of his life atoning for this sin. For the utter crime of breaking Jayce’s heart, of twisting such a pure soul to love and see something in him in the first place.

He staggered through the halls of his own estate before he had even realized he’d arrived. He would send someone to make sure Jayce returned safely, it was the least he could do. The door to his private quarters closed with a slam as he collapsed onto his bed. His knee screamed at the fetal position he immediately curled into, easily undoing any and all relief he had gained from the visit to the baths.

He had seen this coming only to selfishly ignore his own intuition. There was nothing left to do now but brave the fallout.

Chapter Text

It was a well-established fact in Jayce’s life that he could never stand to let a good thing last.

All his life, he had been told he was too much— too intense, too ambitious, too optimistic. Viktor must have just gotten close enough to finally see it.

He had been so stupid to think that their tentative relationship could last longer than one beautiful moment. No, he had had to go and ruin it with his unwanted escalation.

His life could be organized into two neat categories— before the baths and after the baths. Before, he and Viktor talked for hours every day. They sat in the garden, listened to the lyre under the stars, and drew up diagram after diagram of new thoughts and ideas. None of that survived into the present moment.

Viktor was a ghost that seldom appeared. He flitted through the rooms of the estate so stealthily that it was questionable whether he had ever been there at all. He had apparently thrown himself into his consul duties with even more of a passion than before, no input from Jayce needed.

It stung, but it wasn’t what he missed the most. Everything he had done with Viktor had ultimately come second to just who he was spending the time with, no matter how they had chosen to fill it. He hadn’t come back again and again for the music or mathematical work, as intriguing and fascinating as they were. It had always been Viktor. The most unlikely of confidants and kindest of men.

Little over a week passed since their visit to the baths, but it felt longer. Gods, it felt longer. Jayce had been left in the aftermath, dripping all over the tile as he frantically tried to figure out where he had gone wrong.

A servant from the estate had come to fetch him not long after, dutifully leading him back through the Via to the estate.

He had had no idea what to expect, but he was brutally aware of one fact— whatever was between him and Viktor would not stay the same. He had accidentally cut something down that was only just beginning to grow.

But oh how perfect it had been, if only for a moment.

Viktor kissed like he was starving, like Jayce was the only person who could possibly cure his thirst. He had given his affection freely, and then his face had morphed into a horrible mixture of pain and regret as he tried to get away from Jayce as soon as possible.

A part of him wanted to be angry at Viktor and the callous way he had abandoned him and accepted his touch only to recoil like it burned a moment later. But Viktor had looked just as confused as he was— things had fallen apart in a single instant, and they had both been left alone to stagger through the consequences…

Now, he just wanted to talk. To rip the bandage off, no matter how much it would sting. He had to have closure if he wanted any possible chance of moving past what could have been. Even having his mistakes thrown back in his face would be beneficial if it gave him the opportunity to identify just how he kept messing things up.

Jsyce worked tirelessly to finish his chores and wander the estate halls, hoping to catch a glimpse of Viktor. He wasn’t successful.

He continued returning to the library anyway, the now-familiar mix of anticipation and dread knotting in his stomach every time he pushed the heavy door open.

He didn’t want to corner Viktor, but what was the alternative? It had been a week, and Viktor had to be intentionally avoiding him at this point.

Was his only option to chase after a confrontation that had just as much a potential to hurt as it did to heal? A small part of him wondered if the sudden distance was for the best, if Viktor was doing him a service…

Jayce made his decision the following afternoon. He had left the library door cracked open just a sliver the previous day, knowing no one entered but Viktor and himself. Now the door was closed. Maybe Viktor had closed it earlier in passing, but there was a chance that he was currently inside, tucked away in an alcove like the first time Jayce had approached him so many weeks ago. It was the first opportunity he had been provided with since the baths incident, and he was going to take it.

He opened the door with hands that bore a slight tremble, bracing himself unconsciously for whatever he might find. A silent breath left his chest. It was Viktor— finally within his reach, hunched over a manuscript like nothing had changed.

Every detail of the scene screamed familiarity. Viktor was cloaked in beautiful silks, his stylus scratching furiously across the array of scrolls and papers laid out before him. For once, his hair was tied up, pulled back in a loose bun to keep the most irritating strands out of his face.

Viktor didn’t look up at Jayce’s silent intrusion. “Lucia,” he said tiredly, “I know you mean well. But I’m fine, really…” His voice trailed off as startled amber eyes finally met Jayce’s own.

Jayce’s still form somehow stiffened even further. He faced Viktor with equal trepidation. He had no idea what to do. He hadn’t formed a subconscious plan besides getting within the same room as him in the first place, and now it looked like Viktor was going to make the decision for him.

“Jayce,” he breathed, already rolling the manuscripts closed with careful fingers as he began to rise from his seat. “I was just finishing up.” The knuckles of his right hand were stark white against the smooth bronze of his cane.

Jayce instinctively stepped through the door to stand in front of it, blocking Viktor’s escape. He’d move if Viktor asked him to, but he had to at least attempt a conversation.

“Wait—“ he implored. “Please.” Viktor froze. The crinkle of paper cut through the air as a partially closed scroll rolled the rest of the way shut. “I won’t bother you after this, I promise,” Jayce continued. “I just… could you at least tell me where we went wrong?”

Viktor wavered before he nodded slowly. He sank back down onto his chaise, his fingers still wrapped around his cane if he needed to make a quick escape.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he said faintly, his gaze a million miles away. Whatever Viktor was thinking, Jayce was no longer privy to it.

“Great,” Jayce croaked, although he felt anything but. “Ok. Um. What— what happened?”

Viktor’s eyes flicked towards him and away again. “I stopped lying to myself.”

Jayce couldn’t suppress a jerk back, as if the words had managed to slink through his mental defenses and physically strike him. Is that what it all boiled down to, then? Nothing more than a lie for Viktor, time spent with Jayce that he would buy back if he could?

“About?” he prompted through an aching throat, already dreading Viktor’s words. He’d said he wanted honesty, but he hadn’t stopped to think about just how painful it could be.

Viktor looked vaguely ill. “We both occupy different places… in society, that is. It would be wrong to— I can't in good conscience take advantage of—” His tone was pleading as he gestured vaguely, entreating Jayce to spare him the misery of explaining and let go of whatever had existed between them.

His half-formed phrases did make an awful sort of sense. Of course Viktor would not want to get too close to anyone in Jayce’s position. He was a slave, and Viktor’s slave, at that. Why had he been arrogant enough to assume that things could have been different in the first place?

Jayce forced himself to nod. “It was foolish of me to think that I could occupy a significant place in your world.”

Viktor’s face crumpled. “But that’s the thing, Jayce, you do. You do, and it’s my fault. How can you even want to be around me? I might see you as an equal, but others will not. How can you look past what everyone else refuses to? I don’t understand.”

Viktor finally met his eyes, and Jayce could see the exhaustion reflected back in his own expression. There were dark smudges under Viktor’s eyes that he could not blame on his usual dusting of kohl, a visual departure from the rigorous perfection that was so intrinsically Viktor.

Jayce’s mind raced to catch up. If their falling out had not been due to his own actions— if he was reading between the lines correctly, recognizing that Viktor returned his feelings in kind— then was there any true rift between them? Could they choose to resist the pull of society’s rules instead of each other?

Jayce took a tentative step forward, daring to shorten the distance between them.

“Part of the reason it isn't important to me is because I didn’t grow up in an environment that was so aware of class divisions. I was lucky enough to live with Iberian royalty who came from the general population themselves.

“But my own history aside, it just doesn’t matter to me. It will never have any real bearing on how I feel about you, about the kind of person that I know you are.” Jayce desperately hoped that Viktor would at least consider his words. The answering silence was enough to spur him on.

I know that you see it too,” he ventured. “Otherwise you wouldn’t treat me like you do, look at me like I’m someone worth looking at.”

He wasn’t sure if he was changing Viktor’s mind, but he let the words flow from his heart, emotionally driven and sincere before they could be restrained by the more rational parts of his mind. Deep down, he believed them, and he had a feeling that Viktor did, too.

“The divide between us is one I’ve already crossed, and you’re the only person who can tell me to leave it be— no rule or unspoken expectation will be enough to hold me back.”

Viktor was silent. Jayce’s instinct was to instantly fill the quiet, but he let the words hang in the air. Viktor’s eyes were the most turbulent Jayce had ever seen him— apart from when he had kissed him.

“Say something,” Jayce pleaded at last.

“Do you— do you really mean that?” Viktor asked, his voice slightly breathless.

Jayce nodded his assurance before Viktor could even finish the question. “I do. I don’t want something that you don’t, and I’ll leave you alone if you think it’s for the best, I promise. But if I’m not alone in this, if this is something we share, then don’t we at least deserve a chance?”

Viktor laughed disbelievingly, and the sound sent a sudden bolt of fear through Jayce’s heart. “All this time, I thought I had somehow forced you into this,” Viktor confessed. “I thought— I thought I had been the one to set it all in motion, so I had to cut it off.”

Maybe they had both gotten it wrong. Jayce crossed the short distance between them, the same space that had seemed insurmountable only minutes before. He reached out and took Viktor’s hand before he could doubt himself. Viktor’s palm was warm in his, smaller fingers threading through his own.

The fact that Viktor didn’t pull away, that he reciprocated the touch, healed a wound in him that had been bleeding for the past week. “This is just as much my decision as it is yours,” Jayce said. “I won’t pretend to have a clue about the intricacies of what this could mean. I just want to figure it out with you, if you’ll have me.”

The hand held firmly in his tugged him downwards, pulling him only inches from Viktor’s upturned face.

This close, Jayce could see the golden flecks in Viktor’s eyes, the sudden flash of pink as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

“Jayce Talis,” Viktor whispered. “I want to be yours just as much as you are mine.”

This time, Jayce was the one to lunge forward.

The sudden shock of Viktor’s mouth on his was just as glorious as the first time. It was passion and affection in equal parts, a deep hunger that came to life in the way they gripped each other so desperately.

Jayce didn’t let himself hesitate. He crowded into Viktor’s space, the folds of his tunic bunching up as he shoved a broad leg between Viktor's thighs. He needed to forge the essence of him onto his soul, to lose sight of where his own body ended and Viktor’s began—

The hand in Jayce’s hair twisted in response, and a groan escaped from deep in his throat before he could dampen it. Viktor caught his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down none too gently. Was it to keep him quiet or provoke another ragged sound from him? Either way, it couldn’t have made less of a difference.

The frenzied connection and reconnection of their lips coupled with Viktor’s sharp teeth was enough to draw blood, but Jayce basked in it. He had always admired the slight point of Viktor’s canines whenever a rare smile split his face, and now he was experiencing the feel of those molars firsthand as Viktor bit down once again.

The dizziness of forgetting to breathe was mirrored in the way Viktor’s chest heaved against his own. The unspoken promise was blissfully clear— I won’t pull away this time, even until my lungs give out.

Jayce startled slightly when the slick press of something wet brushed against his lips. It was the same motion that had precluded Viktor forcing himself to withdraw at the baths, but now he was the one initiating it.

Jayce’s lips parted obediently, and instantly Viktor slipped his tongue inside his mouth, vigorously exploring the new space and the gap between his front teeth.

Jayce shivered as his tongue met Viktor’s own, as he tried to pour every ounce of desperation and want into the kisses that were quickly becoming more and more messy. Viktor tasted better than he had ever imagined— like the woody sweetness of cinnamon and the tart flavor of the grapes he liked so well.

All those flavors and more danced against his tongue, but he wanted to go deeper. He wanted to move past it all to discover the taste of Viktor, to learn the unadulterated flavor of the man he longed for more than anyone else.

The insistent spasming of Jayce’s lungs forced them to pull apart at last, and a thin strand of saliva glistened between their lips as they parted. Viktor moved only to rest his forehead against Jayce’s as they both panted heavily.

He would not waste even the smallest break they had taken. Jayce tried to commit every detail to memory— the beautiful flush that had overtaken Viktor’s face, and the slight swollenness of Viktor’s lips that Jayce knew he had been the reason for.

He was the one allowed to touch Viktor in this moment, to attempt the impossible task of communicating his affection and desire through touch alone.

A cool hand once again pressed against the corner of his jaw, redirecting his attention from his own incredulous thoughts to Viktor.

There was a dangerous gleam in his amber eyes that Jayce would do nearly anything to see more of.

“As much as I am enjoying this, would you be amenable to relocating?” Viktor asked, his voice still slightly breathy from its previous engagement.

Oh gods. Viktor wanted to go somewhere a bit more private (and perhaps soundproof) than a cavernous library with a half-open door.

He knew the smile overtaking his face would be more than a satisfactory answer for Viktor. Familiar halls flew past as Viktor tugged him through the twists and turns of the estate’s maze-like layout.

Jayce’s face burned. Any servant that chanced upon them would need to spare only a cursory glance at either his face or lower half to know exactly what they were up to.

His blush was matched by Viktor’s own, a pretty pink dusting his sharp cheekbones that could be attributed to excitement as well as nerves. Jayce knew this path— he had walked it too many times not to. They were heading to Viktor’s wing and quarters, and likely his room more specifically.

He didn’t have time to deal with the tightening of his core at the thought before they were slipping through an arch to Viktor’s rooms, and then the door shut behind them with a soft click as they entered Viktor’s bedroom.

The most cursory of glances revealed a chaise near a curtained window, a desk piled high with scrolls and missives, and a carved chest that was half open, revealing a wide selection of exquisitely designed canes. An expansive bed took up at least half of the space—

Jayce’s attention was soon diverted to more pressing matters.

Viktor kissed him once again, but he must have been holding back even a few minutes previously. Now when Jayce’s arms circled Viktor’s waist, tugging him flush against his body, he could not miss the moan that left Viktor’s beautiful throat.

Jayce swallowed the sound from Viktor’s mouth even as he tried to search for more, to touch him in exactly the way he liked and provoke more of those beautiful sounds.

Viktor was no stranger to communicating what he wanted. He mirrored Jayce’s move from earlier, bullying one of his slim thighs between Jayce’s own.

Jayce was not wearing nearly as many layers of fine cloth as Viktor was, and he stiffened momentarily. He was obviously hard, and there was no way that Viktor could possibly overlook it—

Viktor pushed his thigh farther between Jayce’s legs, and he swore he saw stars. The sudden friction was an explosion of sparks all across his body, making him shudder in Viktor’s hold.

“Viktor—” Jayce gasped, and he would’ve been embarrassed at the treacherously broken quality of his voice if it was anyone but him.

Viktor groaned low in his throat at the sound of his name on Jayce’s tongue, and his mouth temporarily left Jayce’s own only to settle in the crook of his neck, pressing hot kisses that trailed along his collarbone.

It was wildly distracting, but Jayce wouldn’t let himself sink beneath the sea of Viktor’s touches once again. His mouth was currently (unfortunately) unoccupied as Viktor attacked his neck, and he managed to stutter out the words before the possibility of speech escaped him entirely.

“How— tell me what you want— how you want to do this—” Viktor pulled back only for an instant, and Jayce shivered at the loss of sensation.

“Whatever you want to do,” Viktor replied instantly. “And nothing that you’d rather not,” he added with one of his gleeful half-smiles. It wasn’t anywhere near specific, but it was exactly the kind of confirmation that Jayce needed.

“I want to take you to bed,” he confessed honestly. Viktor’s eyes shone, the blush of his face and subtle heaving of his chest becoming minutely more pronounced at Jayce’s words.

“What are you waiting for?” He challenged, and Jayce knew he was done for. He nudged Viktor backwards onto the soft silk of the bedcovers, not overly cautious around him but with a careful attention to his leg all the same.

Viktor smiled up at him like he had given the most brilliant answer to a complicated question, and Jayce’s stomach swooped.

He could still barely wrap his head around the fact that the present moment was really happening, that they were really doing this. He was hovering over Viktor, and Viktor was beneath him. He was just as eager as Viktor was, but it was difficult not to stop and enjoy the view. How could he have ever predicted being allowed to see this, Viktor so beautiful and flawless laid out underneath him?

“Enjoying the view?” Viktor questioned teasingly, but there was nothing in Jayce that could ever deny him.

“I am,” he breathed, and the slight widening of Viktor’s eyes was answer enough. He had meant it only semi-seriously, but Jayce could never lie to a man like him.

When he descended onto his forearms, his body finally flush against Viktor’s own, everything else fell away.

Viktor ground up into the touch with a buck of his hips and they both gasped at the contact. Their tunics were still securely fastened, and Jayce’s thoughts were rapidly becoming more and more simple.

Off, off, off. His hands bunched in the fabric of Viktor’s tunic, only seconds behind Viktor’s nimble fingers tangling in the knot that secured Jayce’s own clothes.

They both made quick work of each other’s garments, their hands flying as knots came undone one by one. Jayce’s garment slunk off of his broad shoulders to pool in his lap.

Viktor drank him in appreciatively. His amber eyes shone as he took in the toned lines and planes of Jayce’s body and the wide expanse of his chest that clothes had only partially hidden. Sure, he had seen it all before at the baths, but now there was no need to conceal his attention, and the visible desire in his gaze was intense.

Viktor’s garments were similarly disposed of despite their increased number. Jayce hesitated, wondering if he should maybe fold Viktor’s clothes or set them aside, but Viktor shook his head with a laugh. Jayce tossed them to the side.

The absence of his tunic revealed a chest dotted with moles and a slim waist that trembled minutely under Jayce’s attention. Viktor didn’t tense exactly, but another emotion flitted across his face. It bore a horrible resemblance to self-consciousness.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous,” Jayce breathed. He needed Viktor to realize it, and he knew it would be impossible to deny his sincerity when he glimpsed the sheer awe in Jayce’s eyes.

Viktor, to his credit, did not protest. “So are you,” he murmured, one of his hands drifting to rest against Jayce’s chest. He gave one of his pecs an experimental squeeze, and Jayce had no chance of repressing his sharp intake of breath.

He was quite sensitive there, and he had no doubt Viktor would make good use of the fact that any sort of stimulation to his upper torso was a delightful kind of torture.

Only their most basic undergarments remained, and even those did little to conceal...

Viktor’s grip migrated from Jayce’s chest to the small of his back, tugging him back down in a motion that dragged their hips against each other. A cut-off keen escaped Jayce’s throat as Viktor’s evident hardness met his own. The barest layer of fabric did nothing to dampen the blistering wave of sensation that tore through him at the friction.

He bucked his own hips down experimentally, and Viktor bit out a strangled gasp. It was perfect, but Jayce knew it could be better. He shoved his hand between them, laughing breathlessly when he felt Viktor’s hand already there.

They tugged off each other’s undergarments, a shared wet spot already having soaked completely through the fabric. It was oh-so-tempting to leave them be, to rut against Viktor and taste him through this final barrier between them, but neither of them had the patience nor the strength of will required.

The immediate heat of skin-on-skin contact hit Jayce with instant force. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, warm against his entire body and pressing against him wherever his hands could travel.

Viktor cried out when Jayce’s fingers wrapped around him. Jayce had little experience with any cock other than his own, but Viktor’s was oddly pretty in his hand. Comparatively slimmer than his and slightly shorter in length, it was still rather impressive considering Viktor was quite a bit smaller in stature.

Viktor was uncut, and as soon as Jayce stroked his hand downward, a flushed, pink head was revealed. A mole dotted the base of his thin shaft, just like the rest of his body…

“Jayce,” Viktor gasped reprimandingly.

The blush on Jayce’s face would have been brutally obvious if both of their complexions weren’t already rosy and glowing. The time for visual study was over— what better way to get familiar with Viktor’s body than to experience it firsthand?

He shifted, keeping his hand between them while he pressed flush against Viktor. He wanted to be able to place kisses on every inch of him, to continue the touches of adoration that were not just foreplay.

Viktor keened as Jayce finally, blessedly, began to stroke his hand back and forth. The calluses of his fingertips were slightly rough but not uncomfortable, and Viktor was already leaking more than enough for the slide of skin against skin to be effortless.

Every curl of his wrist was a fire racing through his veins, transforming his core into molten metal. He could easily come like this, but he wouldn’t let Jayce give him pleasure without finding his own.

Jayce’s breath hitched as Viktor’s trembling hand closed around his neglected length, his fingers already promising to take him apart even though he could not fully fit Jayce in his hand.

It didn’t matter in the slightest, not when Viktor’s hand met Jayce’s, pressing their cocks together as he threaded their fingers.

Jayce thrust forward involuntarily as Viktor’s head slammed back into the pillow with a satisfied moan. It was poetic, blinding, the way that he was holding them both, the combined precome shared between them slicking and merging their grip into one.

“F-fuck—” Jayce gasped, the same word echoing from Viktor’s throat. The fire between them was unbearable, and he let his head fall to pant against Viktor’s chest before he began to press open-mouthed kisses to wherever his mouth could reach.

He dragged their hands up and down with a firm grip, and Viktor’s chest rose and fell rapidly to press up into his kisses under the constant touch.

“Gods, Jayce— just like that— don’t stop—” Viktor broke off into a moan as Jayce kept to the same rhythm they had discovered earlier, the achingly smooth glide that rubbed them together over and over and was taking them both apart.

His limbs were on fire, and he could hardly tell where his own palm ended and Viktor’s began. He realized that he was babbling, a constant stream of words leaving his mouth that made more or less sense, all boiling down to “Viktor, yes, please— so perfect, so good—”

Viktor thrust up into their fists and Jayce’s hips stuttered at the sudden rush of stimulation. Viktor’s normally pale face was on fire, a heady blush dusting his shoulders that was broken up only by his constellations of moles and teased the tips of his ears.

“Jayce, Jayce,” he gasped, chanting his name, but Viktor was warning him just as much as he was adoring the shape of his name on his tongue. He forced himself to lift his mouth from where he had been sucking a mark onto Viktor’s sternum, and the skin left behind promised to bloom into one of many beautiful crimson marks.

“Are you— are you close?” he panted, and Viktor managed a yes even as he continued to grind up into him mercilessly.

Jayce keened but he didn’t pull away, letting his own hips push back into the friction as much as he could.

“Me too,” he gasped, and the words sounded less and less like a sentence and more like a whimper that was sabotaged by yet another movement from Viktor beneath him.

They were rutting up against each other in earnest now, the ache in Jayce’s core traveling from his lower abdomen to his entire body as his muscles began to tense in preparation.

“Viktor, I’m gonna—” he tried. Viktor nodded jerkily, shifting momentarily to pull Jayce a bit farther up his body so he could latch his mouth against Jayce’s chest.

He had no time to process before Viktor closed his lips around the aching bud of Jayce’s nipple, and Jayce shouted as his impending orgasm crashed through him.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think— he was in heaven, fire engulfing every vein and muscle, but still he did not let his hand stop even as the overpowering pleasure began to mix with the pain of overstimulation.

The reward was more than enough. Viktor trembled as every muscle of his body quivered before he suddenly arched beneath him with a high-pitched sound, his spend joining Jayce’s as he spattered between their stomachs.

Jayce doggedly stroked him through his orgasm, prolonging his pleasure as long as he could stand before even Viktor was pawing at his hand weakly.

He collapsed beside him with a groan, the sweat on their skin still cooling and leaving the sheets slightly damp. They were both too exhausted to get up and clean either the bed or themselves.

Viktor sprawled out next to Jayce, his eyes half-lidded and far-away.

“Hey,” Jayce said softly, reaching forward to tug Viktor towards him with a calloused palm. “Was that—” The rest of the question was punched from his stomach with an oof as Viktor slammed into him probably a bit more forcefully than he had intended.

He tangled them together just as efficiently as before, his arms wrapping around Jayce’s waist while he hooked one of Jayce’s ankles with his own to intertwine their legs.

Jayce melted into the contact with a soft laugh as soon as the momentary surprise left him. Viktor had probably been waiting for some sort of verbal permission or cue, but Jayce absolutely desired and enjoyed the thought of holding Viktor just as much as having sex.

Viktor’s hair was silky soft against his shoulder, although the bun it had been previously done up so beautifully in was a relic of the past.

Jayce knew they needed to talk— about a lot of things, really— but he also had no desire to let such a peaceful moment go. They would have all the time in the world to figure out how to navigate a relationship like theirs.

”I’m tired,” Viktor murmured against his chest. Jayce shivered slightly at the muffled words as he combed his fingers through Viktor’s hair, trying to gently dispel some of the tangles.

To think that he had wondered for so long how it would feel to card his hands through Viktor’s soft strands, and now he was allowed to do it as much as he liked, starting right now.

“Rest,” he encouraged. “I’ll be here.”

It was quite possibly the best afternoon nap of Jayce’s life.

——

Viktor looked as stunning as always. Jayce had persuaded him to wear one of his golden laurels for the occasion, mostly because it gave him an excuse to touch Viktor’s hair when he wanted to undo the intricate braids that kept the laurel in place.

The night was still young, and Jayce was doing his best to sneak Viktor as many Pompeiian grapes from the banquet table as possible. It took some effort— Viktor may have been a consul, but a consul’s husband attracted nearly as much attention.

Jayce spied Viktor in the middle of a sizable crowd near one of the outdoor terraces. His smile was as beautiful and poised as ever, but the silent cry for help in his amber eyes was just as obvious to someone who knew him well.

Jayce swooped into the midst of Viktor’s conversation partners, smiling and nodding as he managed to simultaneously greet and bid goodbye to everyone in his path. Viktor’s shoulders relaxed a fraction as Jayce slotted beside him easily.

He wound a hand around his waist while presenting the grapes to Viktor with the other. Viktor laughed at the smug look on his face.

“Don’t look so triumphant. You were gone for five minutes.”

Jayce’s smile didn’t waver. “I just rescued you from all your admirers. Did you think I’d be able to avoid all the ones near the banquet table, too?”

“Clearly not all of them, since you’re standing next to me,” Viktor returned, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he accepted an offered grape.

“You like it,” Jayce shot back.

Viktor shrugged amicably, but only to tease him. They both knew he wouldn't be leaning into Jayce’s large hand on his lower back otherwise.

They soaked in the din of the festivity, the flicker of the lanterns and the flashes of colors from hundreds of differently styled tunics. Even in Viktor’s presence, Jayce couldn’t help occasionally feeling out of his depth. He had come a long way from the distraught slave that arrived in Rome so many years ago.

Viktor had given him everything— his attention, his affection, and his hand in marriage (accompanied by Jayce’s resulting status as a Roman citizen). He knew that Viktor would do it all again in a heartbeat, but sometimes the enormity of it was hard to grasp.

Viktor’s lilting voice broke through his thoughts. “I think you’ve spoiled me,” he mourned.

“How so?” Jayce asked. In his private opinion, no amount of affection would ever be undeserved.

“I used to have no trouble participating in the festivities till the moon sunk below the horizon, but now I’d rather just be at home.”

Jayce snorted. “You make me sound like an old man.”

“And by comparison, your mother makes you sound like a wild young adolescent,” Viktor said with a glimmer in his eye.

They had traveled back to Iberia in the years since they had married, both so that Viktor could experience Jayce’s homeland and so that they could attempt to locate Ximena.

Reuniting with his mother and introducing her to Viktor, along with the story of his new life in Rome and status in the eyes of the Empire, had been one of the most emotional conversations Jayce had ever had.

He had been terrified that his mother would not be able to look past Viktor’s Roman heritage, but it had come as a surprise to them both when she had welcomed him with open arms. “Anyone who has taken such good care of my son is family to me,” she had whispered.

Ximena had traveled back with them to Rome, now taking up residence in one of Viktor’s smaller villas. It was the best of both worlds— Jayce liked having his mother close, but he also wanted to make sure he and Viktor had their own space.

“I’m plenty wild!” Jayce countered. It wasn’t a complete lie, necessarily… he and Viktor were wild in their rejection of social norms, but not when it came to participating in drunken parties.

“Not in any ways I hope your mother is aware of,” Viktor replied sardonically.

“Viktor!” Jayce reprimanded as he choked on the grape in his mouth. “We’re in public.”

Viktor smiled in earnest, the kind that never failed to disarm every one of Jayce’s trivial defenses or reservations.

“All the more reason to take me home, then. Who knows what else I’ll say?”

Jayce huffed in mock exasperation, but it was too tempting of an offer to pass up. They’d maintained their presence at the festival long enough that it would be acceptable for them to leave— who could blame him if he was so tirelessly attentive to his husband’s desires that they were forced to depart a little early?

“Sounds like we should return home for the sanctity of everybody else’s ears, then,” Jayce acquiesced.

Viktor leaned his head back to press a chaste kiss to Jayce’s cheek, leaving the slightest trace of the gold sparkle of his special kohl in his wake.

“Always such a hero,” Viktor teased as they expertly made their way through the crowds of Rome’s elite population.

It was a routine they were both intimately familiar with.

They would get ready. Become inevitably distracted by each other and be forced to redo any tussled clothes or makeup from their hurried tryst. Make an appearance at the event in question, and then covertly take their leave back to their estate for a much more enjoyable night of festivities between just the two of them.

Sitting in the garden with a procured bottle of wine and Viktor’s head on his shoulder was infinitely more enjoyable than anything that the showy festivals of the higher-up could hope to offer.

Jayce took Viktor’s hand with a smile. “Let’s go home.”