Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jayce hadn’t texted him all that day, which was unusual. So when Viktor saw his name light up on the screen, announcing an incoming call, he answered with a simple, curious “Yes?”

“Okay, don’t laugh.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow as he pressed his phone between his shoulder and ear, adjusting a piece of circuitry with steady fingers. “You say that every time you ask me to listen to something new.”

“Yeah, well. This one is different.” Jayce’s voice came through the line with a mixture of excitement and mortification.

“Different how? Are you finally doing horror? You know I’ve been waiting for a full-body scream performance from you.”

“Nope. Maybe screaming, but not from fear.”

“Now I’m curious.” Viktor set down his tools and leaned back in his chair, smiling despite himself.  

Jayce sighed dramatically. “It’s a romantasy.”

Viktor blinked. “Pardon?”

“Romantic fantasy. You know — magic, destiny, pining, breathless touches under moonlight, that kind of thing.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Viktor said, playing with a loose thread on this sweater. 

Jayce cleared his throat. “It’s pretty steamy”

Viktor choked on absolutely nothing. “Ah.”

“Anyway,” Jayce went on, a little too quickly, “I got cast as the narrator. It’s this super popular series — The Flaming Bonds Chronicles — apparently the fans are intense, and the author is, like, super detail-obsessed. There’s art, fanfic, cosplays, they’re even releasing little figurines. I can’t mess this up.

Viktor frowned slightly. “So what does this have to do with me?”

“Come on, V! You’re always brutally honest about my work, and you listen to everything I do.”

Viktor felt his face heat, shaking his head in denial, as if Jayce could see it through the phone. “I just appreciate good quality craftsmanship.”

“Uh-huh.” Jayce sounded smug. “So, I was hoping you could help me. You know, give notes. Make sure I don’t sound like a malfunctioning AI when I have to say things like ‘his magic wand throbbed against my core.’ ”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Then he said, very slowly, “You want me to help you with a steamy wizard audiobook.”

Jayce groaned. “Please don’t say it like that. That’s a lot of world building and character construction. So, will you?”

Viktor looked down at his notes, at the half-finished project spread out across his desk. 

“I suppose I could make time to listen to you”. A slowly blooming smile he couldn’t quite suppress formed on his lips. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Viktor always made time to listen to Jayce. He had listened to everything he recorded. Everything. Be it nonfiction, psychological thriller, YA fantasy with talking dragons, or even guided meditation tracks titled “Whispers of the Arcane: Guided Stillness,”  Viktor had it playing in his ears, Jayce’s voice filling his mind with murmurs and good pronunciation. 

It had become a ritual. His breaks, his evenings, even the background noise while working, were all spent with Jayce’s voice narrating one story or another. Not because there weren’t other good narrators out there, but because Jayce was his favorite. Unapologetically so.

That’s why he was the best person to give Jayce feedback. Well, besides a director or his vocal coach, but that wasn’t really the point. The truth was: Viktor listened religiously. Often more than once. He had favorites. He could quote entire passages from memory. Like the monologue in book two of that sci-fi epic, recorded sometime past midnight when Jayce’s voice was deliciously grave — a classic . Or the seventh chapter of that historical gothic romance, all muttered promises — unforgettable . 

It didn’t even matter what Jayce was saying, all of it had the same effect. Listening through his headphones, especially when he was alone, had become something visceral. The low resonance of Jayce’s timbre, the precision of his diction, the way certain vowels lingered like a caress made Viktor feel too much. More than once, he had to pause a chapter just to catch his breath, palms sweating. It was absurd and embarrassing, but undeniable. Thanks to Jayce, he had come to realize that he might have a voice kink. Despite all  that, no matter how his body reacted, he always kept it to himself. Jayce trusted him, and that mattered more than anything. So he listened, offered thoughtful notes, asked smart questions, all while pretending his skin wasn’t burning under his clothes. It was a private torment, yes, but also a secret pleasure. 

After their call, when they went out to dinner, Jayce had opened up a bit more. The real recording wasn’t going to happen in the small studio in his house, the one used for freelance. It would be in a large, professional studio, with a lot of money riding on the project. That alone made Jayce nervous. Normally, he trusted his voice, his skills. But this time, the pressure felt heavier, more intense. That’s why he had asked for help.

They had scheduled a session for the following week — the time the publisher had given Jayce to read through the entire novel and prepare before the full recording in two weeks.

Jayce wasn’t just looking for a friend, he wanted someone who understood the stakes, someone who could help him navigate the tension that came with making something perfect. So, naturally, Viktor went to investigate about this book series. For research and to best help him achieve that peak narration. He was a good friend, after all. 

He clicked on the first link. The cover art was a choice, definitely. A muscular man with flowing dark hair stood behind a smaller one, who was halfway through swooning into his arms. A crown glinted ominously, and there were suspiciously placed vials glowing at their feet. Fine. Whatever sold copies.

The title read:  A Court of Heat and Destiny (The Flaming Bonds Chronicles #1).

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

He skimmed the summary. It was about an alpha prince regent, burdened by duty, that finds unexpected solace in the omega royal apothecary, that is also a mage. Political intrigue,  stolen glances and inescapable carnal bonds.

Alpha and Omega weren’t Greek letters? He filled that information way, maybe It would make more sense as when browsed more. 

He clicked on a fan forum and was instantly greeted by reader reactions:

“The way the magical sex pollen plot actually made sense?? Jail.🔥”

“No because the plot goes HARD. I came for the smut and stayed for the politics” 

“The tension?? The pining??  Chapter 14 made me climb at the walls. 🥵

“He said ‘knot me’ and I blacked out. 🍆🍆🍆”  

“…‘Knot me’?” Viktor muttered aloud, fingers typing the word into the search bar with growing suspicion. Two minutes later, he slammed the laptop shut, dragged a hand over his hair, and exhaled slowly.

This is not my usual type of literature.

Still, despite everything — the emojis, the steamy quotes, the plot summary that read like someone had weaponized hormones — Viktor had to admit: he could understand the appeal. Especially now that he knew it would be Jayce narrating it.

His eyes flicked back toward the laptop.

“Maybe just one chapter,” he told himself, opening the publisher’s website to buy a digital copy. One chapter wouldn’t hurt, right? Besides, the first volume was on sale. He completed the purchase with a sigh and opened the text file.

Viktor didn’t mean to read the entire book. 

Truly, it started innocently enough. He was just going to skim a few pages. Context was important, after all. Emotional tone, cadence and pacing, all things Jayce would certainly want to discuss. 

So he read the first chapter. 

Then the second. For clarity.

By the time he reached chapter five — “He pressed the omega against the shelves of dried herbs and kissed him like I was the last healing tonic on earth” — Viktor was lying sideways on the couch with his laptop propped on a pillow and a very blank expression on his face.

He could admit it was engaging, and he was surprised by the emotional depth. The prose wasn’t bad, far from it. The pacing was decent. The tension was effective.  Very effective. Especially in chapter seven, which took place in a secluded greenhouse during a storm. And, oh, chapter ten had a great explanation of the magical system. 

And, really, if he’d already made it halfway through, it only made sense to finish.  Somewhere around chapter fifteen, his hand wandered south on pure instinct. By the final chapter — after a particularly vivid description of the apothecary scenting the prince’s neck with trembling fingers after being fucked in every surface available — Viktor had officially crossed several personal lines.

He finished the book at dawn, staring blankly at the digital cover glowing on his screen. He rubbed his face with both hands, hair completely disheveled. 

“It’s just for support,” he mumbled to the empty room. “I’m just helping a friend.”

The warmth in his cheeks told a different story, and so did the mess in his boxers.

Before dozing off, he scheduled time to read the second and third books, decided he would finish them before going over to Jayce’s place. He needed to know what they’d be working with.

Apparently, volume two took place almost entirely on a ship. He was very excited about that.

✦ ✦ ✦

Viktor had been nursing a quiet, persistent crush on Jayce for longer than he cared to admit. He’d never said a word and never planned to, not really. It wasn’t that he thought Jayce would laugh or be cruel; quite the opposite, in fact. But the chance of things turning strange, shifting the easy rhythm they had into something awkward, was too great a risk.  So Viktor did what any rational, emotionally intelligent adult would do: he buried it deep, acted normal, and told himself he was being incredibly subtle about the whole thing. Most days, he believed that.

Today, he thought he could manage it. But things had already started off badly when Jayce opened the door to his apartment with a towel draped around his neck and damp hair still curling from the shower. Thanks to the heavens he was fully dressed, otherwise, Viktor wasn’t sure how subtle he would have managed to be.

“Why didn’t you use your key?” Jayce asked as Viktor stepped inside, cane tapping lightly against the floor.

“You know very well I don’t use the key when you’re home. Who knows if you’ll be decent.”

“I’m always decent,” He laughed, and Viktor knew that was a lie, considering the number of times he’d walked in on Jayce half-naked before learning to knock instead of letting himself in. He only rolled his eyes.

“Can I head to the sound cave?”

“Go ahead. I’m just finishing up the tea, and I’ll be right there.”

Viktor nodded and made his way down the hall, as familiar with its creaky floorboards and crooked picture frames as he was with the rest of the apartment.

The walls of the “sound cave” were dark and padded, lined with panels that looked soft to the touch.  The table was organized, cluttered only by purpose. Notes scrawled in Jayce’s handwriting, cables coiled in deliberate loops. Everything had its place, even if that place looked chaotic to anyone who didn’t know him. A tall microphone that curved down toward a comfortable chair, and beside it, a tablet was propped up, waiting. Waiting for Jayce’s voice, Viktor thought, with something that clenched in his chest. 

Cables ran discreetly along the floor, tucked into place with an almost obsessive care. A pair of large headphones rested on a hook. Everything was efficient, and the space felt unmistakably lived-in.   

He stepped closer and noticed a mug of questionable taste on the desk: “Best Narrator”. Definitely a gift from Cait. Inside, a spoon rested in a bit of now-cold coffee. There was also a notebook filled with scribbled notes (“page 107 – raspy voice??”, “sexy grunt here?”), and a yellow Post-it in large letters: “Ask Viktor if this sounds good.”

Viktor sighed. It was so… Jayce. Chaotic and methodical all at once. It was incredible to imagine him here, alone, dramatizing intergalactic wars or forbidden romances with that delicious voice — the same one he used to order pizza or ask Viktor to go to the movies. 

Viktor shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away.

The door creaked slightly before Jayce appeared in the frame, expertly balancing a bottle of water, two steaming mugs, and the guilty expression of someone who knew they were about to be judged.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, already entering. “I was going to clean up, but then I got distracted rereading the chapter where they finally fu— well, anyway.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jayce said, handing him one of the mugs carefully.

Viktor accepted it with a slight nod. He’d let it slide this time. The sweet scent rose up immediately, and his chest warmed, partly from the comforting steam, partly from the fact that Jayce had remembered how he liked it: with sugar, no bitter purist nonsense for him.

Jayce, in turn, placed the water bottle on the table, sat in the swivel chair with the ease of someone who ruled there, and took a sip of his own tea — certainly unsweetened, Viktor thought, with the hint of a smile. 

“Have you done your vocal warm-ups yet?” Viktor asked, amused.

“Did them before you got here. Breathing exercises, jaw and mouth stretches, all of it.”

“Lots of humming and ‘she sells seashells by the seashore’ too?”

“Obviously!”

“Ah. The famous Talis professional combo.”

Jayce laughed and took another sip. “You should try it someday. Might feel weird doing it in front of someone else, but it really helps your enunciation.”

Viktor knew the warm-up routine by heart, having watched him make those ridiculous faces and strange sounds countless times. At first, he found it hilarious. But then he remembered that if Jayce didn’t do all that, he wouldn’t give life to the voices Viktor loved most — so he sighed, chuckled quietly, and decided the “weirdness” had simply become part of the charm.

He turned the mug between his fingers. It was warm, sweet, comforting. Like Jayce, in a way. An impossible presence to ignore, one that barged in without asking — into the studio, into his routines, into his heart.

Jayce turned toward the equipment, adjusting the headphones and checking the recording levels with practiced ease. The studio was small, but comforting. Carefully, Viktor sat in the armchair angled slightly toward Jayce. From there, he could see the sharp jawline, the strong nose. Ugh. What a stupidly handsome man.

“All good.” Jayce said, fixing his hair in an automatic gesture. “If you hear my stomach growling, pretend it’s a sound effect. I just want to test a few passages to study the tone later, okay? Starting now.”

Viktor let out a noncommittal sound, the mug in his hands the only shield between him and the embarrassment of being there. The third volume was by far the steamiest, the author seemed determined to escalate with each book. Viktor wasn’t entirely sure whether his reading experience was affected by imagining Jayce’s voice, but he had his suspicions.

Jayce pressed the record button, and the transformation was immediate. His voice shifted. Each word carried weight, rhythm, purpose. He started halfway through chapter nine — “ Blades and Dangerous Promises”. Viktor didn’t even notice he was holding his breath until Jayce whispered, low and rough:

“‘Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice trembling at the edge of control. “Otherwise, I will consume you.’”

The dramatic pause. The charged silence. The damned ambient noise seemed to vanish just to make space for that voice and what it did to Viktor from the inside out.

Jayce stopped the recording and turned to him. “What did you think?”

It took Viktor a second to register the question. Another to remember how to speak English. “Good,” he said with a throat-clearing cough. “It was good.”

Jayce smiled. “It’s the moment when the prince kisses his love interest for the first time.”

I know , Viktor wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, he drank his tea. It was lukewarm now, and tasted too sweet. Still not as sweet as the sound of Jayce’s voice whispering things that weren’t for him — but oh, how he wished they were.

“I’m still not sure what to say, Jayce. You might need to narrate a bit more.”

Jayce adjusted the microphone, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Alright. Now comes the good part. Brace yourself.”

Viktor didn’t have time to brace himself. Jayce began to read with a firm voice, laced with that almost theatrical sensuality only he could pull off.

“‘I'm gonna suck your cock so good you—’”

Viktor, mid-sip, choked on the tea immediately. The cup shook in his hands, he coughed loudly, face burning. Jayce stopped the recording, looking at him with startled amusement as Viktor tried desperately to recover.

He was definitely not going to survive the day.

“You okay?” Jayce asked, trying and failing to suppress a laugh, though he was already up, handing Viktor the water bottle.

“Perfectly,” He accepted the bottle of water, fingers brushing Jayce’s for a moment. “Just… surprised. A bit much for this early in the morning.”

Jayce let out a low chuckle. “That was just the warm-up. It gets really explicit after chapter twelve.” And it surely did, Viktor knew that.

Swallowing hard and glaring at the mug, he decided lying was his best option.

“I didn’t know it was that kind of book. That, uh, steamy . If that’s the tone, I might need more tea.”

“I warned you.” Jayce smiled sweetly. “By the end, you’ll be so immersed you’ll forget about tea.” Viktor raised an eyebrow. Immersed, sure. If by that Jayce meant “completely wrecked and pretending not to be”.

Jayce returned to the swivel chair, now wearing a smile that Viktor could only classify as criminal.  “Chapter twelve, then. But I’ll take it easy. No moaning yet, I promise.”

“ Yet? ” Viktor shot back, aiming for casual and missing spectacularly. His throat still scratched from the cough, but the embarrassment was worse. Jayce laughed but didn’t answer. 

Of course he would rehearse everything. He always did. Maybe Viktor had been foolish to think he’d take it easy. But, deep down, it made sense that he felt comfortable doing it. He trusted Viktor and probably believed he was immune. 

Viktor gathered what little strength he had left  and told him to keep going. He was not about to get wet. No way. 

Jayce adjusted the microphone again, a near-reflex by this point. His hands always needing something to do right before hitting record. That technical silence, the brief moment between the end of conversation and the start of a new performance, fell over them like a curtain.

Viktor settled back in the armchair. He could feel the warmth of the mug against his palms, but the real heat seemed to come from somewhere else inside him. 

Jayce took a deep breath, pressed the record button, at some point he read:

“‘He tasted like rebellion. Like storm.’” His voice was lower now, deliberate. Viktor could imagine his mouth shaping each syllable, the way his tongue brushed the roof of his mouth on storm , the soft movements of the throat — as if he were saying it to someone real, right there in the room. “Their bodies collided like they’d been waiting years. No tenderness. Just hunger and raw need.”

Viktor had no idea where to look. He tried focusing on the lamp in the corner, then the cables under the desk, then the wall where Jayce pinned up movie posters, but none of it worked. Because Jayce’s voice was right there, rushing through him like a current, impossible to resist. 

Jayce stopped the recording and turned slightly in his chair and looked at Viktor.

“There. What did you think?”

There were many possible answers. None of them appropriate.

“Your breathing between sentences is timed well. You varied the pacing nicely during the more, hm, intense moments.”  He said, striving for technical, for something safe to say.

Jayce bit his lower lip, maybe to hold back a laugh, maybe just out of habit.  “Yeah. I thought it deserved a bit more… commitment, you know? Since it’s the moment they—”

“I know what moment it is,” Viktor interrupted — too fast. He wasn’t prudish, they had talked about sex many times by now. Even recounted their casual encounters, for fuck’s sake. But this felt so different

Jayce leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His eyes sparkled, curious. “Do you think it’s weird that I ask you to listen while I read this kind of stuff?” 

Viktor felt his whole body freeze, then flush, a sudden wave of anxiety and want. Something is his face had betrayed him. So much for always looking casual. 

“No,” he answered, quicker than he meant to. “I mean, yes. I mean… it’s unusual.” He looked at Jayce’s face. “You’re unusual.”

Jayce gave him a half-smile, looking at him through those damn lashes. 

“Is that a compliment?”

“If you want it to be, sure.” 

Jayce looked at the recorder, then back at him, almost shy.  “There’s one more scene I want to test. Nothing explicit, just intimate. That okay?”

Viktor nodded. What else could he do? Say no, that it was becoming unbearably hot inside the studio, that he wanted to hide? 

Jayce pressed record, and Viktor pressed his hands against the armrest.

“‘They lay in the dark, breaths entangled, heartbeats slow and heavy. ‘If I stay,’ he whispered, ‘I won’t be able to pretend anymore.’’”

Jayce’s eyes stayed fixed on Viktor as he read, intense and deep, as if he wanted to convey everything the words carried: the contained desire, the repressed vulnerability, the fear of exposure. Viktor could almost taste the tension in the air, or maybe it was just the rush of blood and heat down south making it hard to think.

Then, out of nowhere, that sharp gaze softened, and a slightly awkward smile appeared on Jayce’s face, followed by a clearing of his throat that broke the silence.

“For these intimate scenes, I want to let all the longing show,” Jayce said, as if it were the most serious thing in the world, but also a bit like he was apologizing.

Viktor blinked and answered, trying not to sound too flustered: “You’re doing a great job.” He tried to seem calm, but deep down his heart was beating so fast he could almost hear it. “Now, more tea, please.”

As Jayce got up to prepare more tea, Viktor stayed still, trying to organize his turbulent thoughts. Those words, that voice, that look. Everything still reverberated inside him, stronger than any narration had ever done.

For a fleeting moment, it seemed that Jayce wasn’t simply reading to the mic. It wasn’t just a performance, a voice for an invisible audience. It was as if he was speaking to him, just to him. And that idea, that feeling, was at once delightful and terrifying. Because if Jayce really was speaking to him, then Viktor was completely screwed — in the best possible way.

Chapter Text

Viktor had a few rules for himself, and some days, following one of them was painfully difficult. He would never cross that self-imposed line, but he often came dangerously close. The thing was, ever since his relationship with Jayce had evolved into something that could genuinely be called friendship, Viktor had made a decision: under no circumstances would he allow himself to masturbate at the thought of him.

When they were still just acquaintances and his feelings for Jayce were purely physical, there hadn’t been an issue. But once he started thinking more about his friend’s eyes, his smile, and his voice, rather than his muscular chest and broad back, something about it began to feel wrong. He didn’t try to rationalize why it felt wrong, though. That kind of self-inquiry ranked fairly low on his growing list of things to fret about, especially after the crushing realization that he had a thing for Jayce.

And because deciding to stop doing something is always easier than actually stopping, Viktor had come up with an alternative, something that helped him reach the orgasm he wanted without being swallowed by post-nut shame: he would picture someone similar enough to Jayce, but definitely not him .  Sure, he still listened to Jayce’s voice, but this way, it felt different. Plausible deniability, maybe. A trick of the mind that allowed him to pretend he wasn’t really thinking about his friend. 

Over time, he managed to shape the image of the perfect person in his mind. He was tall, and strong too, but with less definition, a little less muscle mass.  His skin had that same golden tone, though slightly paler, as if he hadn’t seen sunlight in a while. He had hazel eyes, yes — that wasn’t something exclusive to Jayce, many men had hazel eyes, so Viktor allowed himself to keep that feature. The man’s eyebrows were thick, his beard always a little overgrown, and his hair longer, messier.  He also had a sexy scar across his lips that made Viktor bite his own lips just thinking about it. 

It was with not-Jayce in his mind that Viktor laid in his bed, headphones on, dildo and lube ready to be used by his side. He had sat the mood for this night: dim lights, a scented candle on the bed stand, and skin smooth from a vanilla scent moisturizer after a long hot bath.

With steady fingers, he picked his phone and skipped to his favorite part of this particular meditation guide. He pressed play. 

Jayce’s voice came soft and slow, low in his register, a tone he rarely used in real life, one that Viktor had come to associate with a very good time.

“Take a deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth. That’s it. Slow down.” The words washed over him.  

In Viktor’s mind, he was no longer alone in bed. The air thickened, the shadows folded, and there he was — that man, the not-Jayce. Sitting at the foot of the mattress, one knee bent, one arm draped across it, head tilted. Watching him with those hazel eyes that weren’t really Jayce’s, but the voice was exactly his.

“You don’t need to be in control right now. Just listen to me.”

Viktor swallowed hard, his hands already slipping beneath his shirt, cold fingers grazing the already fevered skin of his chest. He had been on his toes since he made the decision to masturbate that night, anticipation running through his body all day.

“Notice where your body aches,” The voice whispered. “It’s okay to want relief.”

He pinched a nipple, not so sensitive anymore, but enough to make him feel good. Those vowels and consonants spoken into a mic months ago made him so wet already, and the audio was just in the begging. 

“Feel the warmth spreading from your chest down to your stomach. Notice how much you crave stillness. How much you crave release.”

The not-Jayce was closer now, one hand resting on Viktor’s ankle, in that mind space where nothing was quite real, but everything could be felt. That scar on his lip was just as Viktor remembered it. 

“Allow yourself to surrender. Trust me and let me guide you.”

Viktor’s hips shifted, buckling against air. Time to use his toys. He pushed the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free one leg,  fingers shaking slightly as they slid between his thighs, over skin slick with sweat and arousal.

“Take a deep breath. Feel how your body responds to being touched from the inside.”

He obeyed. One hand pressed lower, parting himself, and the other moved carefully between the folds, fingers slipping in with practiced ease.  He groaned, head falling back against the pillow as his knuckles brushed that sensitive spot inside. 

Not-Jayce’s gaze was heavy, fixed on Viktor’s hand as it worked him open, patient and purposeful.  Like he approved of the pace, of the angle, of every breath Viktor took to keep from falling apart too soon. Not-Jayce moved, one hand still rested over Viktor’s ankle, the other had slipped higher, his fingers making idle loops over bare skin, gentle and maddening, like he had all the time in the world to touch and watch.

“Let the breath move through you. Slow, steady, deep.” The circles continued  while Jayce’s borrowed voice coaxed him further, pulling him under.

He curled his fingers, dragging them just right, the angle enough to make him whimper. That voice vibrated in his ears like an echo he couldn’t silence, and he didn’t want to. 

Viktor reached for the dildo without looking. The one he always used when he couldn’t stop thinking about this. It was firm and familiar, the head nudging against him as he guided it into place. His hips stuttered as he sank down on it, gasping when it filled him fully.

“The tension will fade if you let yourself go. Sink deeper. Let it happen naturally.”

His thighs trembled with effort, rocking into the rhythm his body already knew. The stretch made him dizzy. He fucked himself harder, chasing pressure, chasing the friction that turned sharp and sweet when he ground his fingers down against his cock. Every stroke sent sparks through him. The not-Jayce was closer now, so close, whispering without words, mouth parted and eyes burning.

Viktor gasped, hips twitching as he pushed the dildo deeper. 

“Let go, you can do it”. The voice in his ear spoke again, and Viktor shattered with it, back arching off the mattress as the orgasm tore through him, raw and overwhelming.

“Now, let your body relax. You did great.” Not-Jayce smiled at him like he knew exactly what he’d done to him.  

He pulled the dildo out with a shuddering breath and tossed it aside, the toy landing somewhere off the edge of the bed. His body was still caught in the aftershocks, nerves buzzing, muscles loose beneath sweat-damp sheets.

With his body sprawled across the mattress, chest heaving, Viktor let his head fall to the side and smiled to himself — lazy, satisfied, just a little smug.

Another successful jerk-off.  As perfectly timed as ever.

✦ ✦ ✦

During the preparation week for his recording, Jayce sent voice memos, one after another, reading the passages thick with sexual tension, and Viktor dreaded and longed for them in equal measure. With trembling fingers, he gave the best feedback his burning mind could formulate. He didn’t want to sound too detached, nor too enthusiastic. The truth was, he was absolutely interested. Not only in Jayce’s voice — though, havens , what a voice — but in hearing the narrated version of the third volume.

By the time Viktor realized it, he was already hopelessly tangled in The Flaming Bonds Chronicles fandom. How could he not be? The stories were incredible. Characters who hated and loved each other for what they were, alliances forged at the knife’s edge between desire and fear, broken promises that turned into vows deeper than any oath. Bonding marks. Knots.

Viktor discovered forums, fan groups, theory threads. Discussions about non-romantic alpha-omega relations, betas with alpha hearts, and the politics and social implications of a second gender system. 

He understood the hype and came to understand why the publisher had been so eager to push the third volume into production, practically rushing Jayce into the recording booth. The second book, despite critical acclaim, had seen disappointing audiobook sales. An injustice, in Viktor’s opinion, because that was easily the best of the series.  

Even though fans weren’t that into the second volume, not having an audiobook for the third one really stirred things up. And the publishing house definitely didn’t want to upset them, not when the fandom is dropping loads of money on pretty much everything related to the books.

When the pre-order date for the audiobook was finally announced the response was immediate: more fan art, more fan fiction, video edits layered with quotes. A full-blown revival of the craze, now ignited by the perfect voice.

Viktor felt happy for Jayce, of course he did. He deserved all the praise in the world. However, when he saw the those public, devoted compliments, and that shared thrill, he felt a strange weight in his stomach. He was a little jealous, even thought that was no logical reason to, he knew that.  And yet, when he listened to the official teaser featuring Jayce’s voice, he held his breath, wanting it all for him alone.  

Jayce knew Viktor had read the latest book, to better help him with the narration, thought hat was the extent of what he knew. Sometimes Viktor thought about saying something. He even drafted a message on pre-order date announcement: Did you know the fandom is losing their minds over the audiobook teaser? They have quite an infatuation with your voice.

Jayce would ask how he knew that. He was a curious man, after all, and Viktor had no intention of admitting he'd spent an embarrassing amount of time scrolling through forums just to read other people echo what he already couldn’t stop thinking.

When the release date finally arrived, Viktor woke before his alarm. He didn’t open his eyes right away, just reached for the nightstand with the automatic motion of someone who already knew what they were looking for. He unlocked his phone’s screen with a slight frown and went straight to his e-mail.

Nothing? The audio file, promised for the early hours of the morning, still hadn’t been sent. Probably a glitch in the platform’s automatic release system, he rationalized it immediately. Still, a thin thread of irritation coiled beneath his skin. After all, he had bought it on pre-order, on the very day it was released, at exactly 2 PM. He still had the receipt saved in a folder named “miscellaneous documents.”

He sighed and refreshed the page again. Then he saw Jayce’s message notification:

“Dinner at my place tonight? To celebrate the launch. I bought the wine you like.”

Viktor pressed the phone against his chest and closed his eyes. He would indulge tomorrow, today was all about Jayce. 

✦ ✦ ✦

When Viktor reached Jayce’s apartment, the familiar scent of something delicious hit him before he even knocked. It curled beneath the door frame, warm and inviting: herbs and something slightly sweet. There was also music, low and rhythmic, pulsing softly like a second heartbeat in the hallway door.

He hesitated as his fingers brushed the key in his pocket, the one Jayce had given him weeks ago, like it wasn’t a big deal. Standing there with that music and that smell and the distant sound of something clattering in the kitchen, he figured Jayce was expecting him. Which meant he was dressed. Most likely.

Viktor slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened into warmth and light. From the kitchen came the unmistakable sight of Jayce, wearing a pale gray apron over his clothes, stirring something in a pot, hips swaying just slightly to the music, singing along under his breath.

He hadn’t noticed Viktor yet.

“Hey,” Viktor called gently, setting his bag down by the door.

Jayce turned, face lighting up with a grin. “You used the key.”

Just like that, so casually, and Viktor felt his cheeks heat. Only Jayce could make something so mundane feel so intimate.

Speaking of Jayce, he looked unfairly good. A soft pink button-down, rolled at the sleeves, clung slightly to his chest and arms. His jeans fit just right, snug at the hips, and his cologne — warm, woodsy, and far too distracting — reached Viktor even from across the room.

Viktor cleared his throat, hanging his coat. “You’re overdressed for a home-cooked meal.”

“I’m celebrating.” Jayce winked. “And I always dress nicely when you come to dinner. You also look great, by the way.”

Before Viktor could properly fluster, he coughed again and gave a vague nod, grasping for a change of subject.

“I could smell dinner from the hallway,” he said. “Doesn’t your neighbor complain?”

Jayce laughed, turning back to the stove and stirring something that sizzled in response. “Nope. The grumpy one moved out a few months ago. The new neighbor’s great. Very sweet, actually. She even compliments the way my cooking smells, so I’m in the clear.”

Viktor blinked. “She compliments your cooking?”

A flicker of something sour rose in his chest. He couldn’t name it at first, but the feeling was familiar enough to make his jaw tense. Jayce, of course, noticed instantly.

With a humorous smile, he glanced over his shoulder. “She’s eighty, V.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Jayce didn’t pres, just grinned, smug and golden in the warm kitchen light, and went back to the stove.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, reaching for a clean dish towel. “You want water or something else for now?”

Viktor denied, taking a seat on the stool by the kitchen counter, and resting his cane against the side as he watched Jayce move easily between pots and spices. Soft music played in the background, filling the spaces between their conversation. Jayce looked truly bright tonight, as if something inside him had finally eased.

“You seem really happy,” Viktor said, his eyes following Jayce’s hands as he stirred a pan. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this cheerful after finishing a project.”

Jayce laughed, voice warm and relieved.

“I am. I really am. Finishing that recording felt like getting something right, you know? And part of that is because of you.”

He stepped closer with a plate in his hands, but instead of setting it down, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of Viktor’s head. Jayce had done it before — once or twice, in quiet, spontaneous moments, but it was far from common. He was a tactile person, sure, always quick with a hug or a reassuring hand on Viktor’s shoulder. A kiss on the head though? That was something else.

Viktor didn’t speak at first, the warmth of the gesture lingering at his scalp, bleeding down into his face. When Jayce pulled away, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world, Viktor cleared his throat softly what felt like the tenth time that night, trying to brush it off, even as the heat began to creep down his neck.

“You’re feeling sentimental tonight,” he said, as if to deflect, his voice softer than he meant it to be.

Jayce only smiled again, knowingly, and turned back to the stove with a satisfied hum.

They talked while Jayce finished cooking, plates warming in the oven and wine breathing on the counter. It was easy, familiar — the kind of comfort that came from years of friendship. However, something was different tonight, and Viktor felt it in the way Jayce kept looking at him.

Not just looking. Watching. Like Viktor was something worth lingering on.

“So,” Jayce said, leaning his hip against the counter, glass in hand. “Now that it’s officially launched, are you going to tell me what you really thought of the audiobook once you listen to it?”

“Who said I’ll listen to it?” Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“I know you will,” he chuckled. 

“ Fine , you can expect my review in a few days.” Viktor said, fingers brushing the rim of his glass. 

Jayce’s smile softened, eyes lingering on his face just for a second too long.

There it was again. That look. Not teasing, not playful. Not even the usual warmth. It was earnest, quietly intense. Viktor’s mouth went a little dry. He glanced away, unsure what to do with the sudden awareness curling in his stomach.

“I mean it,” Jayce said, more gently this time. “You helped me more than you realize. Just having you around—” He cut himself off, laughed under his breath, “—Gods, listen to me. I sound like one of those dramatic narrators.”

“You are one of those dramatic narrators.” Viktor replied, relieved Jayce seemed to want to change topics. He could deal with a playful banter, the sentimentality not so much. 

Jayce tilted his head, amused, but the smile didn’t fade. If anything, it grew softer. His gaze settled again on him and stayed there. 

Viktor really wanted to be kissed.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly hyperaware of everything: the warmth of the kitchen, the scent of rosemary and butter, the music, and Jayce’s eyes on him like he was something fragile and precious. He didn’t know what to do with that, so he did what he always did when emotions threatened to rise too close to the surface, he retracted, and Jayce, with what felt like a sad smile, did the same.

They ate by the window, the table small and the light low. Jayce had lit a candle. Just because it looks nice, he said, but it cast a glow that made everything feel a little more like a scene from a romance film than an ordinary dinner between friends.

They talked, they laughed. The food was good — very good, Jayce was great at cooking — and the wine didn’t help with how warm everything was becoming. Not just the room, not just Viktor’s skin. The way Jayce looked at him was a quiet pressure he could no longer ignore.

Midway through the second glass, Jayce leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine, watching Viktor over the rim with a thoughtful expression. Then, suddenly:

“Can I ask you something?”

Viktor set his fork down, cautious. “You usually do.”

Jayce gave a soft, nervous laugh. “I mean… Something real.”

That got his full attention. Viktor met his eyes and nodded once. 

Jayce looked down at his glass, then to the candle flame. “When I sent those voice memos… the ones with the lines I was rehearsing. Did they— did they make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” he said, quickly, thrown by the vulnerability in Jayce’s tone, and then steadier, “I told you already. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know you said that.” Jayce looked at him again, more direct now, but still with a thread of hesitation. “But I was reading lines meant to be… intimate. Whispering things that were meant to sound like I meant them. And I just—” He stopped himself, brows furrowing, and exhaled a little laugh. “Forget it. I’m just being stupid.”

Viktor tilted his head. “Jayce.”

He glanced at him, bitting his lips. This is becoming dangerous , Viktor thought. 

“Did you like it?” he finally asked, voice lower. “Hearing me say things like that. The sweet nothings. The sighs.” He huffed, embarrassed, but pushed through. “Did it do anything for you?”

Viktor could hear the hum of the fridge, the low instrumental still playing in the background, his heat thundering in his ears. Everything but his own breath, which seemed to have abandoned him. He searched Jayce’s face, expecting amusement. There was none, only a quiet kind of tenderness.

Viktor reached for his wine glass, more to ground himself than anything else, and said, carefully:

“You know I admire your work. You have a very expressive voice.”

Jayce arched an eyebrow, lips twitching. “That’s a very diplomatic answer.”

“I am a diplomat at heart,” Viktor muttered, but that was not true at all. Jayce wasn’t backing down, Viktor sensed, as he leaned in slightly, elbows on the table now, fingers laced around his glass.

“Come on. Humor me.”

Viktor met his eyes again and this time, he didn’t deflect.

“I listened more than once,” he admitted, quiet but firm. “Not just because I was reviewing your technique. Because it… stayed with me.”

Jayce’s eyes widened just slightly and then softened, warmth blooming in his expression. “I’m glad,” he said, voice low. “Because I meant it. At least, some of it.”

That made Viktor go still. Jayce didn’t press. He just looked at him, patiently, like he was willing to let Viktor decide what to do with that.  For once, Viktor wasn’t sure he wanted to retreat. They could stop here — Jayce had clearly left the decision in his hands, and knowing him like no one else did, he was certain his best friend would accept, gently, if he chose to step back. He didn’t want to, not this time.

“Can you tell me which parts you meant it?” he asked, deciding to move forward. He had to know.

“Can I get closer to you?” 

Viktor nodded, the gesture small, almost imperceptible, but Jayce saw it, and it was enough. Without hesitation, he leaned forward, bringing his face close to Viktor’s with a practiced gentleness, like he was about to make a confession.

Warm breath brushed Viktor’s ear as Jayce began to whisper, and for a moment, everything else dissolved. There was only his voice, low and rough, heavy with something Viktor could only describe as desire. 

“‘I would’ve knelt for you, right there in the dark, if you'd only asked.’”

Viktor’s eyes fluttered shut. The sound of Jayce’s voice, the closeness, the words themselves sent a shiver down his body.   

Jayce didn’t pull away.

“‘I ache when you're gone. It’s pathetic, isn’t it?’”  

The wet friction of the th , drawn out just a second too long, made Viktor squirm, goosebumps all over his body. He drew a sharp breath, something tightening low in his belly. 

He didn’t remember those lines being so vivid in the book, but now, spoken like this, in that voice, they were impossible to forget.

His skin prickled, nerve endings flaring. He wasn’t even being touched and still, his body reacted like it was being claimed. Heat bloomed under his skin, pulsing through his limbs, pooling somewhere deep and dangerous. 

“‘You don’t know what you do to me. Every time you speak my name, I fall apart a little more.’”

Viktor’s thighs tensed, breath coming shallower. He clenched his hands in his lap, as if to anchor himself, as if to hide the effect that tone was having on him.  

Jayce paused before the next, and Viktor felt it like a shiver.

“I want your hands on me. Not gentle, not careful, but like you need me.”  The words came low, deliberate. Each syllable heavy with heat, like his voice was dragging itself across Viktor’s skin. “ Need ” stretched just long enough to make Viktor gasp.

When Viktor opened his eyes, Jayce was watching him — still so close, so deliberately present. For a breathless moment, they stayed like that, red-faced and breathing in each other’s air.

Jayce was the first to speak.

“I like you, V. And I truly believe you feel the same, but if—”

Viktor didn’t let him finish as he pressed their lips together.

Chapter Text

He never imagined, not in a million years, that he would actually kiss Jayce Talis and be kissed back without a moment’s hesitation. Jayce melted against him, a soft, startled sound escaping his lips, warmth pressing into Viktor as if he belonged there. Viktor didn’t relent, didn’t pull away. Every nerve in his body thrummed with need, every heartbeat echoing the same thought: he needed this, he needed him.

Viktor clutched at Jayce’s shirt with both hands, dragging him closer, desperate to erase the space between them. Jayce responded with quiet awe, hands rising to cradle Viktor’s face, fingers spreading along his jaw like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening, as if he weren’t the one provoking and flirting before. 

“Viktor,” Jayce murmured softly, “breathe.”

Viktor’s eyes stayed closed for a moment, a low, frustrated grunt escaping him. He didn’t want to breathe, didn’t want to break the spell, didn’t want to give the world a chance to slip back in. All he wanted was to keep kissing him, to keep drinking in the warmth and taste of Jayce until they both passed out from oxygen starvation.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he opened his eyes and there he was. Jayce, flushed to the tips of his ears, skin glowing with heat, lips red and parted, chest rising and falling in uneven, hungry breaths. Not a fevered imagining in the quiet hours of the night after all. 

“So... you really like me?” Jayce’s voice dropped just enough to sound sure, almost teasing. 

Viktor’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he leaned in, his forehead resting against Jayce’s.

“What do you think? Yes, Jayce… I like you.”

“Good. Because I like you, too.” Jayce’s grin grew wider, his hands sliding to the back of Viktor’s neck, gently stroking and running his fingers through his hair. “We’re on the same page, then. No need to hide it anymore.”

Viktor let out a low chuckle, his voice rough at the edges.

“Exactly. So, no more waiting. Let’s not waste any more time, yes? We can talk about this later.”

Jayce nodded, eyes bright with something fierce, and kissed him again. Their lips slid together, even deeper now. Viktor tilted his head and pressed his tongue in, savoring the way Jayce moaned softly into his mouth like he was already starting to unravel.

And then Jayce pulled back again, just a little, lips brushing against his.

“You really like my voice, don’t you?”

That question, spoken so close to his lips, broke something in Viktor. He let out a helpless sound, a whimper stuck between a gasp and a moan, and crashed back into Jayce’s mouth before he could say more. Because of course he liked it. Loved it. He’d been dreaming of this voice pressed right against his skin. Hearing it inside him. Around him. Ruining him.

Jayce’s hands were moving now, down Viktor’s sides, beneath his shirt, exploring skin. Viktor arched into the touch, breath catching at every slow glide of fingers.

“Gods, you’re warm,” Jayce murmured, his lips barely brushing Viktor’s collarbone, his voice dropping into that low, velvety register that made Viktor’s breath hitch every single time. “You’re burning up for me.”

The sound of Jayce’s voice, soft and teasing, wrapped around Viktor like a physical touch. It sent a delicious tremor through him, igniting a hunger he barely controlled. Without thinking, Viktor tilted his head, exposing his throat in a silent plea, craving the bite he knew Jayce could give. But Jayce held back, pressing a kiss just beneath Viktor’s ear instead — soft, warm, and dangerous. His voice still lingered between them, a sensuous echo that made Viktor’s pulse race and his body ache for more.

“Can you really fall apart from nothing but my voice?”

Viktor’s knees nearly buckled at the question. Yes, yes he could. Heat was already pooling low in his belly, a steady ache intensifying with every whispered syllable. Each brush of Jayce’s lips, every breathy word murmured against his skin, sent electric shivers cascading down his spine and limbs. He was drowning in the sound of Jayce’s voice, losing himself in the delicious torment it brought. His body responded instinctively, thighs clenching, seeking friction, craving more of that intoxicating sound and touch.

“I want you to listen to me, really listen. Focus on every word I say.” Each syllable weighted, curling around Viktor like a slow, irresistible command. He bit Viktor’s earlobe lightly, the touch sharp and possessive.

Viktor’s breath hitched. His mind snapped to attention, every nerve taut, hanging on Jayce’s voice as if it was the only thing that mattered. Whatever Jayce said next, he would hear it, he would feel it, in every fiber of his being.

“The way you lose control is so fucking tempting.”

The way Jayce’s fingertips grazed his sides through the hem of his shirt left burning trails of fire in their wake. Viktor sucked in a sharp breath as Jayce’s mouth trailed lower, following the pulse pounding at his throat with delicate precision. His hands clenched on Jayce’s shoulders — not to pull him closer, but simply to hold on, grounding himself amid the growing storm inside. His knees trembled, heat pooling unbearably between his legs, every nerve screaming for release.

“You don’t even realize how undone you look, and it drives me crazy.”

His chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven bursts, heat flushed him from head to toe, painting his skin with a warm, almost desperate glow. A thin sheen of sweat dampened his hair against his forehead. 

Jayce hadn’t even started undressing him yet. 

“Jayce,” he whispered, voice trembling, “It’s too much already—”

Jayce only moaned in response, low and rough against Viktor’s neck, like he couldn’t find words anymore, like the sound alone was all he could offer. The vibration of it sank into Viktor’s skin, making him shiver, and then Jayce was kissing him again. His mouth crashed into Viktor’s with wet, open hunger. The kiss was loud, messy, and completely consuming, all heat and desperation. It left him breathless, head spinning, every inch of him alight with need.

He couldn’t keep his hands still. They roamed over Jayce’s body like they didn’t belong to him — frantic, searching. Across his chest, his ribs, his waist. The muscles tensed under his palms, warm and alive and his .

Then lower.

Viktor’s breath hitched as his fingers drifted down Jayce’s abdomen, brushing the waistband of his jeans. He hesitated just a second, and then he felt it. The unmistakable shape of Jayce’s arousal, thick and straining against the denim. A sharp gasp left him. He pressed his palm there, tentative at first, and Jayce groaned into his mouth, the kind of sound that made Viktor’s knees buckle all over again.

He felt the heat of it even through the layers, the way Jayce throbbed under his touch. So hard, so ready, and Viktor wanted — needed — to feel more. He traced the outline with shaking fingers, thumb brushing the head through the fabric, and Jayce’s hips bucked into the contact with a helpless noise.

“You’re already har—,” Viktor whispered, amazed by the effect he had on Jayce, but he couldn’t finish. His words were stolen away as Jayce’s mouth claimed his again, swallowing him into a kiss.

Jayce kissed like he needed to consume him. Like if he stopped, even for a second, he might fall apart. Viktor’s fingers drifted, undoing the first button of Jayce’s jeans with a deft flick. He started to pull at the zipper, desperate to feel him properly, but Jayce caught his wrist. The grip wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. His mouth broke from Viktor’s only long enough to murmur, breathless and hoarse.

“Don’t—” Another kiss, tongue sweeping over Viktor’s like he couldn’t bear to be apart even for a second.  “If you touch me like that,” Jayce whispered against his lips, “I’m not going to last. I need to focus on you right now.”

Jayce was trembling too, visibly undone, but still holding himself back. His restraint was shocking, really. That kind of worship the way he kissed Viktor like he was precious, like his pleasure could wait because Viktor’s came first? I’m never recovering from this , Viktor thought. 

He tried to speak, to say something, anything, but it came out as a whimper, broken and raw. He was losing his mind. 

Jayce licked into his mouth again, one hand cradling the back of Viktor’s head while the other slipped beneath his shirt, splaying across his bare chest. The moment his palm brushed one of Viktor’s nipples, he arched, a gasp torn from his lips.

“Oh, Jayce, please—”

Jayce chuckled darkly, mouth dragging down his jaw.

“You’re so fucking responsive.” he breathed, tongue flicking out as if to taste the sound Viktor made.  “You make the prettiest sounds.”

He pinched his nipples, gently, and Viktor sobbed, knees drawing up instinctively, trying to contain the wave of sensation crashing through him. Jayce kissed down his neck, following the edge of his shirt, pushing it higher with his free hand.

“I want to hear everything, every moan, every gasp, don’t hold back.”

Jayce’s hands never stopped moving. Between kisses, they roamed up Viktor’s chest, pausing only to tug his shirt over his head.

Viktor gasped as the air hit him, chest heaving, a soft whimper catching in his throat. Jayce looked at him like he couldn’t believe it, like his body was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He exhaled sharply, then leaned in to press a kiss right over Viktor’s heart.

“I want to take you apart piece by piece,” he whispered, lips brushing against his skin.  “But the bed’s too far, and I need you now.”

He rose just enough to lift Viktor by the waist, arms strong and sure, guiding him toward the couch. Viktor stumbled a little and every step was interrupted by more of those needy, desperate kisses, Jayce’s hands sliding along his bare back, fingertips splayed wide as if trying to memorize every inch.

When Viktor’s legs touched the edge of the couch, Jayce eased him down into the cushions, following him immediately, straddling his lap without hesitation.

“You feel that?” he murmured, rocking against him once — just enough for Viktor to feel the hardness pressing against him through Jayce’s jeans.  “That’s what you do to me.”

His mouth found Viktor’s neck again, kissing, sucking lightly, tongue flicking out to chase the salt of sweat and desire. He moved lower, tracing a line to one nipple, and when he closed his lips around it and sucked gently, Viktor cried out, body jerking. His nipples were never this sensitive when he played with them alone. 

“I want to feel you like this forever,” he rasped, tongue swirling over the peak before switching sides. 

Viktor writhed beneath him, thighs trembling. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed some relief. 

“Come on, Jayce.”

Jayce’s mouth left Viktor’s chest slowly, lingering kisses dragging a wet path down his torso. Each one was thoughtful, like he was adoring every inch of skin he uncovered with lips and breath.

He kissed the curve of Viktor’s ribcage, the dip of his belly, the sharp line of his waist. Open-mouthed, hot kisses over trembling muscles. With each press of his lips, Viktor felt himself break apart a little more, his body arching into the touch like it was instinct.

When Jayce hooked his fingers into the waistband of Viktor’s pants, he lifted his hips in silent permission. Jayce began to peel the fabric down, inch by inch, revealing more of a pale thigh  dusted with soft hair. Viktor was left in just his boxers, his arousal marked through the fabric.

Jayce exhaled shakily, sitting back on his heels to take him in. His hands, still resting on Viktor’s thighs, gave the lightest squeeze, thumbs brushing over skin that felt too hot. He glanced up, eyes dark. He kissed just above the waistband of Viktor’s boxers.

“Can I touch you more?”

“Yes!” He reached out, wrapped his fingers around Jayce’s hand, and guided it between his legs. He gasped the moment contact landed. Even through the fabric, it was too much. Too good.

Jayce exhaled hard, and began stroking over the damp cloth with maddening care. Viktor’s thighs twitched, hips shifting toward the sensation before he could stop himself. The pressure was so light at first, then those hands slipped underneath the hem, skin to skin, and Viktor moaned loud. 

 “You’re so wet already.”

 Viktor whimpered again, his body answering for him.

Jayce’s fingers moved slow and precise, finding rhythm with an ease that made Viktor want to scream. Every stroke of his thumb sent heat rushing up Viktor’s spine. His hips lifted helplessly from the couch, chasing every sound that left Jayce’s mouth.

“Look at how hard you are, V. Can you fell it?”

Only when Viktor was trembling, flushed and almost there, did Jayce finally pull back. His hand left him with one last teasing pass, and Viktor let out a noise of protest, a soft, shuddering breath that asked, Why did you stop?

Jayce only smiled. “Let me taste you, I want to hear how you sound when I do.”

I didn’t know Jayce had this side to him, he immediately thought. His whole body trembled with the effort of staying still, anticipation coiling tight in his belly. 

“Yes, anything you want. I’m all yours”.  His hands went to his waistband, fumbling slightly, movements jerky with urgency, but Jayce stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Let me,” he said, and fingers replaced Viktor’s, revealing skin like it was a gift, like he didn’t want to miss a second of it. He had set the bar way too high for anyone else, Viktor was doomed.

Jayce looked at him like he was seeing something beautiful, something he wanted, yes, but also something he admired. Viktor felt his heart hammering so loudly he could barely hear anything else. His hands gripped the edge of the couch, knuckles white, every nerve ending lit up as Jayce stared up at him from between his legs.

“You’re perfect,” Jayce whispered. “Tell me how you like it, guide me. I want to be good for you.”

Viktor tried to answer, tried to form words, but his mouth betrayed him. Only broken sounds came out, his body speaking a language his tongue had long forgotten.  If he couldn’t guide Jayce with words, then fine, he would do it with his hands.  His fingers tangled in Jayce’s hair, gripping tight, pulling him. 

Jayce moaned against Viktor’s cock like the taste had stolen his breath. His mouth was warm and eager, and he moved with unhurried intention, tongue teasing, lips dragging. He circled Viktor’s cock with the tip of his tongue then licked a firm stripe down to the entrance, pushing it in, claiming, tasting.

Viktor wanted to guide him, but he couldn’t. Everything Jayce did was already exactly what he needed. How do you guide someone who already knows what they’re doing?

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he rasped when he pulled back, lips wet and slick. “I could stay here forever. Would let me, V?”

Viktor whimpered, the low rumble of Jayce’s voice vibrating through him against such an intimate place  made his head fall back, a sharp, helpless moan tearing before he could stop it. He nodded desperately, already chasing the heat of Jayce’s mouth as it returned to him.

Jayce set a rhythm with just the right amount of suction to make him tremble. Each time he licked just beneath his cock or flattened his tongue along the full length of his slit, Viktor cried out, hips twitching, only for Jayce’s strong hands to hold him steady again. Still he talked. Still, he used that voice.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured. “Fucking love how you sound when I do this.”

A swirl of tongue. A gasp.

“Can’t get enough of you like this.”

Another deep push, loud and wet.

“You gonna come for me just like this? Wanna hear it. Let me hear it all.”

Jayce closed his lips gently around Viktor’s cock, holding it between them with just the right pressure, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive flesh. The sounds he made vibrated directly against him, every hum and rumble sinking into Viktor’s body until he could feel it in his chest, in his spine, deep in his gut. Jayce moaned again, and Viktor swore he could feel the sound echo inside him, shaking him apart from the inside out.

He tugged harder at Jayce’s hair, hips jerking helplessly, his body drawing taut and trembling as an orgasm crashed through him, tearing a choked cry from his throat. Every pulse of it carried Jayce’s voice, each wave hitting harder than the last until he was shaking, undone, lost entirely to the heat. 

“Jayce,” Viktor gasped, voice wrecked and breathless. His thighs quivered, his body arching toward the mouth that had just left him dripping and shaking. “Fingers. I want— need your fingers.”

Jayce looked up, lips wet. “Are you sure?” he asked, already sliding his hands up Viktor’s thighs.

Viktor nodded, too needy to pretend otherwise. “If what you’re hiding in those jeans is even half of what I think…” He let out a shaky, wicked smile. 

He groaned and pressed a kiss to the inside of Viktor’s knee. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he said. “But yeah. Yeah, let me open you up.”

He leaned up for another kiss, deep and filthy, one hand already trailing down between Viktor’s legs. Viktor spread them instinctively, hips lifting, and Jayce reached between them, fingers gliding through slick heat that made him swear under his breath.

Viktor whimpered in response, and Jayce chuckled  as his fingers circled gently at first, teasing, coaxing his body to open. Then, with careful pressure, he pushed one finger in.

Viktor gasped, head falling back, hand blindly reaching for Jayce’s wrist.

“That okay?” Jayce asked.

“More,” Viktor said, voice wrecked. 

Jayce obliged. He worked him open with patience, with care, curling the first finger just right before adding a second. The stretch made Viktor moan, hips rocking down into the pressure like he couldn’t help himself.

Jayce leaned close, voice rough in his ear. “You’re taking me so well, Viktor. I can feel how much you want this.”

Viktor bit his own lip, eyes fluttering shut, but Jayce wouldn’t let him slip away. He kissed him again as his fingers fucked him open — twisting, stroking, curling inside him until Viktor’s legs started to shake.

He found it — that spot — and pressed into it firmly, rhythmically.

Viktor sobbed.

“That’s it,” Jayce moaned. “Right there, huh? You want more of that?”

“Don’t stop!” Viktor gasped, “don’t—”

“You sound so fucking hot, V” Jayce growled. “Come for me. Come with my fingers inside you.”

Viktor’s hands clawed at Jayce’s arms, back arching off the couch as the pleasure built fast.

“Say my name again,” he begged, barely audible.

“Viktor,” Jayce whispered. “ Viktor , look at me when you come.”

And Viktor did. Eyes wide, mouth falling open around a cry that shook his whole body as he came hard, pulsing around Jayce’s fingers, warmth spreading over his legs in hot waves.

Jayce didn’t stop until Viktor’s body trembled and twitched with oversensitivity. Then he eased out, gently, pressing kisses along Viktor’s stomach as if to say you did so good for me without needing the words.

Jayce was panting hard, his pupils blown wide, but he looked satisfied. Viktor was not, already reaching, grabbing at his hips, pulling him down.

“More,” he said, hoarse and demanding. “I need more. Inside.”

“You just came hard. Do you want me inside you now?” Jayce asked surprised.

“Yes,” Viktor growled. “I want you to fuck me. Take these clothes off now .”

Jayce laughed — breathless and delighted, a sound warm like sunlight — and leaned in to kiss him, teeth grazing Viktor’s bottom lip before he pulled back just enough to murmur, “You’re bossy when you’re desperate.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes. “I’m always bossy.”

Jayce grinned. “And I love it.” He gave him a peck on the lips, then stood up. “I’ll get a condom. Don’t move.”

Viktor watched him disappear down the hall, heard the soft clatter of the bathroom cabinet. He tried not to squirm where he lay, still recovering, body flushed and buzzing, but the anticipation was unbearable.

When Jayce returned, he was already opening his shirt, and Viktor forgot how to breathe.

He’d seen Jayce shirtless before, many times, but this was different. This was intimacy. 

His body was carved in broad planes of muscle and golden skin, chest rising and falling with each breath, trail of dark hair leading down to the waistband of his jeans. He unzipped them with one hand and stepped out with a grace that felt unfair.

Then the boxers came off, and Viktor’s brain short-circuited. Jayce was, without a doubt, a grower — thick and hard, veins visible along the shaft, the tip flushed a deep purplish red, glistening with a subtle sheen. Viktor’s breath hitched, mouth falling open as a sharp, immediate ache flared between his legs, demanding attention.

Jayce caught him staring, smirked. “So?” he said, a little smug.

Viktor’s mouth moved before his brain did. “Fuck, you’re big.”

He chuckled as he rolled the condom on with practiced ease, hands sure and steady even as his chest heaved. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, then added with a dark smile, “unless you beg me not to be.”

Viktor huffed a half-laugh, but it turned into a gasp when Jayce knelt between his legs again. He reached out, coaxing Viktor to shift. “Come here,” he murmured, guiding his hips, watching every twitch of muscle, every tremor. “Careful now”.

Viktor opened his legs wider for him — he could deal with a little pain later — and Jayce settled between them, heat radiating from his skin. His cock brushed against Viktor’s inner thigh as he lined himself up.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” He whispered.

“Just fuck me already, Jayce.” Viktor whispered back.

Jayce guided himself with one hand, the other still firm on Viktor’s thigh, giving support. Their eyes met — Viktor's pupils wide and glassy, lips parted, chest rising with shallow, expectant breaths.

He pushed in slowly. The stretch was deep and burning, but Viktor didn’t look away. He gasped, his nails digging into Jayce’s shoulders, toes curling.

“You feel so good.”

“Don’t stop. Keep talking.” Viktor demanded, and so Jayce did.

Jayce spoke through every thrust, words spilling out as his rhythm deepened. He told Viktor how beautiful he was, how he’d been dreaming of this, how it felt like heaven to be inside him. He whispered how Viktor clenched around him, how he sounded when he begged, how he came alive at the sound of his name.

Jayce’s hips moved in steady thrusts like he wanted to feel everything. Skin against skin, the wet slap of bodies meeting, Viktor’s soft moans catching between them. He drove in, slower this time, grinding his hips just right, and Viktor cried out, as pleasure sparked sharp behind his eyes.

“You’re mine, right?” Jayce breathed against his mouth. His voice was wrecked now,  rough and frayed with need. Another thrust, deeper. “Tell me you are mine, please. Tell me.”

 “Yes, yes— I’m yours!” Viktor clenched around him, every muscle tensing. 

His breath faltered. His vision blurred. Jayce’s voice combined with the way he filled him, owned him, loved him with every word and movement was just too much. 

Viktor shattered again.

This orgasm crashed through him suddenly. He didn’t even have the strength to cry out — only a strangled gasp, a choked sob of relief.

Jayce must have felt it, the way Viktor clenched and pulsed around him, because his rhythm faltered.

“I can't, V…” he choked.

Viktor cupped his face with shaking hands, blinking up at him, still panting. He had an idea how to break Jayce. 

“You’re so good,” he whispered. “You’re so good to me, Jayce. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

Jayce’s hips bucked hard once, twice. Viktor kissed his jaw.

“You make me feel like I belong to someone. You make me feel like I’m safe. Like I’m— fuck, Jayce, please —”

Jayce groaned deep in his chest, buried himself to the hilt, and came hard, body locking, muscles shaking, mouth falling open as he spilled into the condom with a desperate, gasping cry of Viktor’s name. 

Viktor smirked, smug in the satisfaction of being right.

They didn’t move for a long time. Just lay there in the dim light, breathing each other in, trembling with aftershocks. Jayce eventually pulled out, disposed of the condom, and cleaned them both carefully. When he returned, Viktor was still on the couch, limp and boneless, eyes glassy with bliss. Jayce sited beside him, pulled him close.

“You could ruin me with that voice,” Viktor whispered, half-lucid.

Jayce kissed his forehead, grinning against his skin. “I had a suspicion.”

Viktor huffed a quiet laugh, already drifting.

Jayce reached for his phone. “This is for you to use later:”  He hit record and murmured into the mic, his voice dropping to that same seductive pitch: “Be good and spread your legs for me right now. Let me hear how wet you are. Rub your cock and think of me between your legs, tongue deep inside. You know now how it feels like.”

Viktor groaned, dragging a hand down his flushed face. “You’re evil.”

Jayce chuckled and leaned in to kiss him. “You love it.”

“I do,” Viktor said softly against his lips.

Jayce brushed a thumb over Viktor’s cheekbone. “Can we talk about us later?”

“Yes, now lay here with me.” Viktor nodded, pulling him closer by the waist.  

Jayce sank into the space beside him without hesitation, wrapping an arm around Viktor’s middle as their legs tangled together. Skin against skin, everything hot and quiet.

Jayce kept pressing soft, lingering kisses to Viktor’s temple, his lips warm and tender. Viktor’s breathing slowed, heavy lids fluttering closed as exhaustion pulled him under. Yet even as sleep claimed him, a small, content smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He felt safe, seen, and more himself than ever before.  As sleep finally took him completely, he carried Jayce’s steady heartbeat with him into his dreams.

Chapter Text

At some point, somewhere between the morning head he’d given Jayce right after they woke up and their mutual masturbation in the shower, they had actually talked. Seriously. First, about themselves. By the end of it, Viktor realized that every single time he had doubted whether Jayce was really flirting with him or if it was just wishful thinking, it had been flirting. The revelation hit him like a little electric shock: Jayce had started liking him before he had started liking Jayce.

“You realized you liked me when?!” Viktor asked, astonished, lowering his coffee cup with a clatter.

Jayce was facing the stove, flipping pancakes and laughing softly to himself. “After Cait’s party, the one where you let me crash at your apartment for the first time.”

“That was more than five years ago!” Viktor exclaimed, incredulous. He had only realized that what he felt for Jayce was more than friendship long after that. They could have been together much sooner. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried, V.” Jayce served the pancakes onto their plates, then started slicing strawberries. “You never responded when I tried to flirt with you. I remember exactly the time I asked if you were interested in dating anyone, and you said no, because you didn’t have time for it.”

Viktor blinked. The thought that Jayce had been interested in him all along made his chest ache with something that was equal parts disbelief and affection.

“Sometimes I could tell I was getting to you,” Jayce admitted. “You’d flush, look away too fast, and these past few months I kept getting all these mixed signals from you.”

Viktor set his cup down again, heart racing slightly, and leaned back in his chair, trying to process it all. “So… all those times I thought you were joking, you were actually flirting with me?” His voice was incredulous, a little shaky, but there was a teasing lilt hiding in it.

Jayce looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Every single time. And you? Did you have any idea you were giving me signals back?”

Viktor’s cheeks warmed, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I tried no to give you signals, I’ll be honest.”

Jayce chuckled, setting the plate in front of him. He leaned closer across the table, voice soft but edged with teasing frustration.

“You know, you could’ve spared me a lot of sleepless nights if you’d just admitted sooner that you liked me.”

“We were a bit stupid, weren’t we?” As he said it, his fingers brushed against Jayce’s hand, a casual touch that held more meaning than words.

Jayce leaned back, eyes gleaming, lips curved in that knowing, mischievous smile Viktor had come to recognize. “Maybe. But I like the way things turned out too.”

“Yeah, I do too.”

For a long moment, they sat there, breakfast between them. They basked in the quiet intimacy, in the unspoken understanding, and in the shared warmth that had been building for years, finally out in the open, finally theirs.

Later, sprawled lazily on the couch, Viktor fidgeted with his hands, cheeks warm. “I— I don’t even know how to say this,” he murmured, voice low and hesitant, “but, when I hear you read or just talk… it drives me crazy.”

Jayce glanced at him over the rim of his mug, a soft, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said gently. “I like knowing my voice does that to you.”

“And you like it when I praise you, don’t you?” He hesitated, the words awkward, unsure. “I’ve noticed it before. The way you react, it’s kind of obvious.”

Jayce’s grin widened, completely unashamed. “Yes. I do,” he said easily. “I like it when you tell me I’m good. It’s satisfying, makes me feel seen, appreciated. I don’t hide it, I like really it.”

Viktor’s chest warmed at the honesty, a little thrill of excitement curling through him. “You really mean that?” he asked, voice soft, hesitant, a faint tremor in it.

“Absolutely,” Jayce replied, leaning closer, voice dropping to that familiar low, teasing cadence. Then, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “Tell me something, V… what does my voice do to you? Honestly. Don’t hold back.”

He blinked, cheeks flaming, but the honesty tugged at something deeper in him. He swallowed, voice almost a whisper: “It makes me feel warm, and tense, and… restless. I get carried away just listening to you. I want things I can’t always say.”

Jayce smiled, brushing a finger along Viktor’s jaw, thumb lingering against his cheek. “You can say,” he murmured, voice warm, teasing. “With me, you can say everything you want. You don’t need to feel embarrassed, alright? 

“Alright.” Viktor caught his hand, bringing it to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of Jayce’s wrist, letting his breath warm the skin before he spoke.

“I like it when you notice me. When you let me hear how much you enjoy what I do to you. It makes me want to… well, be better for you to praise me more.”

Viktor laughed, a little breathless. “Dangerous thought,” he murmured, lips quirking. “I might get carried away with the praise—and your ego will be unbearable.”

“I wouldn’t mind in the slightest,” Jayce smirked, eyes glinting with mischief.

They lingered like that for a long while, the casual intimacy of shared space giving way to teasing glances, warm touches, and quiet laughter. Viktor realized, with a soft thrill, that this honesty, this mixture of vulnerability and playful confidence, was something he wanted to explore more, not hide. He really wanted to call Jayce his boyfriend. 

✦ ✦ ✦

It wasn’t until Monday that Viktor finally found a quiet moment to start listening to the audiobook. The weekend had left its mark—every sore muscle a reminder of how thoroughly Jayce had claimed him in almost every surface of his apartment. 

As he set the basket of clean clothes atop the bed, headphones ready, he couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory.

He hadn’t even pressed play yet, and he knew, that he would be completely hooked. He had read the printed version of the book already, knew every turn of the plot, every word on every page, and yet that wasn’t what mattered. Not really. What mattered was Jayce reading it. His voice. The subtle rhythms, the tone, the careful way he made each sentence his own.

Viktor adjusted the headphones over his ears, pressing the play button just a fraction of a second too long, savoring the anticipation. It was ridiculous, really, that he could feel this flutter in his chest just waiting to hear a man read aloud. But it wasn’t just any man, was it? It was Jayce, and that alone made him smile.

The voice that came through his headphones wasn’t quite Jayce’s everyday voice, though. It was richer somehow, controlled, wrapped in warmth that curled into his chest and stayed there.  

He listened while folding laundry, but somewhere between chapter two and three, the shirts were abandoned on the bed. He sat down, elbows on his knees, and just listened.

Viktor caught himself smiling at the smallest inflections, the way Jayce lingered on certain words. How easily his mind drifted from the plot to the man reading it. Once or twice, he rewound a line just to hear it again. Not because the sentence was important, but because Jayce had delivered it like a caress.

When he finished chapter twelve, right as the steamiest parts were beginning, he was already completely sprawled across the bed, only a small portion of the laundry folded while the rest lay long forgotten. And he was warm—very warm. He wasn’t sure he could tell Jayce anything coherent about his performance, but he could say exactly which sentences sent a spark of arousal strait to his cock. That was probably worse.

By the next day, he had already finished the entire audiobook and had noted his favorite lines in his phone’s notepad, the perfect material for indulgent sessions whenever he missed Jayce in the middle of the night. 

The thought that maybe other people did the same struck him, and an irritating little pang of jealousy lodged itself in an uncomfortably precise spot between his ribs.

Because of that, he decided he shouldn’t look up fan reactions to Jayce’s narration. He stayed resolute for a few hours, restlessly working through emails and spreadsheets, telling himself firmly that he didn’t need to see what others thought. But as the day dragged on, the curiosity gnawed at him until he could no longer resist. He had to know what those horny fuckers were saying.

He logged onto the fan forum. At first, it seemed harmless. The initial discussions praised how Jayce had captured the yearning and longing of the characters, fans sharing favorite passages, highlighting the emotional depth he’d brought to each line. Nothing alarming, just good work being recognized for what it was. That was fine.

But the more he scrolled, the more he frowned.

Soon enough, he found the real issue: fans talking about imagining Jayce in the role of one of the characters. The third book focused on the younger brother of the princes from the first two books, who had always thought he was a beta until, wandering through the castle corridors, he suddenly realized he was in heat. Only to be rescued by a strong, muscular, tan alpha knight with a deep, commanding voice.

It wasn’t surprising that people were doing fan casts. Viktor had expected it. But reading comments about how they could imagine Jayce himself as that alpha, speaking those romantic, sensual lines, left him uncomfortable and irritated. Sure, he’d thought about it himself, many times, but it felt improper coming from strangers. When he did was different. 

Still, he kept scrolling, irritation mounting, unable to stop himself. Each comment made his pulse quicken and his hands clench subtly in his lap. And then, finally, he came across it: someone had written, “Imagine this man rubbing himself all over you while saying these things.”

That was enough. Viktor immediately logged off. His hands were trembling slightly as he grabbed his phone and typed a message to Jayce: “Coffee tomorrow. Need to see you.”

When they met the next morning over coffee, Viktor was thinking about the forum. He stirred his drink nervously before blurting out, “I… uh… I kind of looked at some fan forums about your narration. I know, I shouldn’t have, but I got curious.”

Jayce’s grin didn’t falter. “You did?” he asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued. “And what did you find?”

Viktor exhaled, cheeks heating. “Some of it was just people praising your reading. Favorite lines, interpretations, that part was fine. But then they started imagining you as the characters, as the alpha  knight.” His words slowed, embarrassed. “It made me… a little bit jealous. But I couldn’t stop reading and honestly, I might have gotten a little obsessed.”

“Obsessed, huh? I see.” Jayce tilted his head, smiling softly.  

Viktor nodded, fidgeting slightly. “Yeah. And, well, it’s not just that. I’ve actually been a fan of the books for a while. I read all of them. The whole ABO dynamic—secondary genders, heats, it’s fascinating. I got really invested in the story and in the characters. I guess I just got carried away with it.”

Jayce’s eyes sparkled with interest, leaning closer. “So you’re telling me you actually read all of it? And liked it?”

Viktor flushed, looking down. “Yeah. And I’m assuming you already know all of it?”

“Of course. I read them all too. Sure, It was for work, but I enjoyed them.” Jayce smirked, completely natural. 

Viktor’s heart raced, a mix of embarrassment and thrill curling in his chest. “Right… I just wanted to tell you. I liked them. Not only that, but I like being a fan.”

“That’s good, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” Jayce said softly, eyes warm, voice teasing. “And hearing you talk about it all flustered like this? Adorable.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

“I like seeing that side of you.” Jayce reached out, brushing a finger along Viktor’s hand. “Tell me more about what you thought of the books?”

And Viktor did. He spoke of the ABO dynamics first, how often they leaned into cliché, but also the rare moments when the author twisted expectation and made instinct and choice collide in ways that felt sharp, almost unsettling. He analyzed the couples one by one, explaining which pairings rang true, which only worked because of how their flaws mirrored each other. Then came the second book, his favorite. His voice picked up pace, his thoughts unraveling faster than he could temper them, praising the tightened pacing, the raised stakes, the inevitability of the central romance.

At some point, he realized he was rambling, words tumbling unchecked. Heat pricked his ears. But when he dared a glance at Jayce, there was no trace of impatience, only that quiet, intent focus, his smile soft, eyes bright with something Viktor couldn’t quite name. Admiration. Pleasure. As if watching Viktor unravel like this was, in itself, enough to satisfy him. The realization made Viktor’s chest tighten, his mouth falter around the next sentence, suddenly far too aware of how much Jayce was enjoying him, not just his words.

"Look at you, completely carried away, it’s kind of cute.” Jayce leaned back in his chair with that smile that always managed to be both easy and devastating. “Can I ask you something?”

“You know you can, Jayce.”

“So,” he began, sipping his coffee with a little hum of satisfaction, “you’ve read all the books, you know the lore, the whole ABO thing. Did you,” his eyes glittered with mischief, “ever imagine yourself in one of the roles?”

Viktor’s throat tightened. He fiddled with the sleeve of his coat, buying time, trying to will away the flush creeping up his neck. “That’s… an unfair question,” he muttered, voice lower than he intended.

“Not really,” Jayce countered smoothly, leaning forward again. “I mean, you said you’re a fan. Fans imagine things.”

Viktor looked at him then, exasperated but fond, cheeks still burning. “You are very good at making me say things I wouldn’t normally.”

“That’s because I like hearing them,” Jayce said simply, unbothered, eyes locked on Viktor. “I like hearing what you have to say, V . ”

The words struck Viktor harder than he expected. He lowered his gaze, heart stumbling in his chest, and then, because honesty felt safer than silence at that moment, he murmured, “Your voice does things to me. It’s not just narration. When you speak, it pulls me in. Like it’s wrapping around me. Sometimes it feels like you’re not just saying words, but touching me with them. All that to say, I have imagined myself in the place of the omega prince while listening to the audiobook, yes. And maybe I have imagined you the love interest”

Jayce’s grin softened into something warmer, deeper, his hand brushing against Viktor’s again. “Viktor, you don’t have to be shy about that. Really. If anything, I’m glad you told me.”

Viktor tried to look unimpressed, though his ears betrayed him, scarlet against his pale skin. “Glad, hm? Because it feeds your ego?”

“Because it makes me want to use this information to give you a very good time,” Jayce replied without hesitation, and Viktor’s breath caught.

The silence that followed pressed against Viktor, thick and expectant. He could feel Jayce’s gaze tracing him, noting the way his pupils darkened. Heat pooled low in his belly, and he had to remind himself that it was neither time nor place to get aroused. 

Then, in a disturbingly casual manner, Jayce tilted his head and asked. “So, have you ever wondered what it would be like? To actually experience a knot?”

The question landed like a spark in dry grass. Viktor froze, halfway through bringing the cup to his lips, then set it back down.

His mind flooded with images of Jayce over him, voice low and relentless, holding him through waves of overstimulation, making him feel owned, claimed. He could see him as the knight, armor shed, skin burning. Jayce pressing close, scenting him, dragging his body shamelessly against him as if desperate to leave a mark no one else could ever erase. The thought darkened, sharpened: Jayce’s lips ghosting against his ear, breath hot as molten metal, whispering for him to open, to take him deeper, to take his knot, until Viktor’s body yielded entirely, until there was nothing left but surrender.

His body reacted before he could stop it, heat crawling across his skin, pulse thudding in his throat.

“Excuse me?” Viktor managed, his voice thin, breath catching halfway. “To ask me something like that in public. You have no shame.”

Jayce’s laugh was quiet, meant only for him. “Maybe I don’t, and I just like seeing you blush when you’re turned on.”

Viktor huffed, pressing a hand to his face, trying to mask how much that one line made him shiver. “You are insufferable.”

“And you are blushing,” Jayce countered, tone softening again. “Tell me. ”

Viktor tilted his head, as if weighing whether to humor him or shut it down. “I may have thought about it.”

“That’s a yes.” Jayce’s grin widened. 

“It’s a non-committal acknowledgment,” Viktor corrected, though the color in his face betrayed him.

✦ ✦ ✦

Viktor was hunched over his laptop, reviewing the data from the latest project. The numbers blurred after a while, his mind half-drifting, when a notification sound pulled him back to the present. A new message flashed on the screen.

“Got you something. You’ll see when you come over this weekend. Bring an overnight bag.”

Viktor blinked, rereading it once, twice, letting the words sink in. A small, mischievous thrill sparked through his chest.  

✦ ✦ ✦

They hadn’t put a definition on what they were. Not yet. Friends, yes, they had always been that, and they were good at it. But whether they would be good at this—at navigating something romantic—was still uncertain. So, they had agreed to take things slow, to see where they fit, where they didn’t, and how to deal with that.

But Viktor, in the quiet of his own thoughts, wanted more than that. He wanted to put a name to what they were, to say aloud what pressed at his chest every time Jayce smiled at him as if there were no one else in the room. He wanted to tell him that he loved him, very much so, and that he didn’t doubt for a second that they would work out. Why wait? Hadn’t they already waited enough? The certainty was there for him, steady as the ground beneath his feet. And yet, he didn’t speak it. He kept it folded inside, because he understood: they needed the pace they had set. This was a step too big to rush, too important to gamble with. Pushing now might jeopardize not just what they were building, but even the friendship that had always been their anchor.

Even so, Viktor couldn’t help but think, the moment he stepped inside, that he was walking into his boyfriend’s place, not just a friend’s.

The smell of rain still clung to his coat when he crossed the threshold.  Jayce’s home carried its own warmth, not just the soft glow of the kitchen lights or the faint sizzling of something cooking on the stove, but a kind of welcoming presence that seemed to extend directly from himself.

Jayce drew him in without hesitation, wrapping him in a hug as though two days apart had been far too long. Viktor melted into it, into the steady heat that radiated off him, into the kind of closeness that made the word friend feel suddenly too small.

Dinner was simple, but good. Jayce always cooked like he was trying to impress, though Viktor suspected that was just his nature to be generous, attentive, eager to make things a little brighter for the people around him. They talked about work, about a new voice acting project. Jayce’s laughter came easily, head tilted back, but there was something different threaded beneath it tonight. A weight in the way his gaze lingered, the way his voice softened when it turned toward Viktor.

And Viktor felt it every single time. It became even more apparent when they moved to the couch. He curled into the corner, legs draped lazily across Jayce’s lap.

“V,” Jayce said, “about that present I mentioned…”

Viktor tilted his head, his gaze narrowing slightly. “You’re going to tell me what it is, or is this another one of your suspense tactics?”

“Better if I show you,” Jayce replied. His tone was easy, but there was a flicker in his eyes,  the kind of spark that made Viktor’s pulse shift.

Jayce carefully lifted Viktor’s legs from his lap, settling them onto a cushion with a kind of quiet affection. Then he disappeared briefly into the bedroom and came back with a sleek black box. He set it on Viktor’s lap without breaking eye contact.

Viktor glanced down at the box. It was made of thick, matte cardboard, the surface carrying a faintly velvety texture beneath his fingertips. The only mark on it was a small golden emblem pressed into the lid: a simple circle intersected by a single diagonal line, abstract enough to give a hint of what might be inside.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have to guess what this is?”.

“No need,” Jayce said, leaning back. “Go on. Open it.”

The box wasn’t taped. Viktor lifted the lid, fingers brushing against it. The first glimpse inside made his breath catch—soft silicone, dark and slick-looking under the light, it’s shape unmistakable. His hand stilled halfway, the lid still half-covering the contents.

He glanced at Jayce. “You…”

Jayce’s smile was slow. “Me.”

Viktor let the lid fall back, covering the toy again. “I cannot believe you bought this.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Jayce countered, leaning forward slightly. “Nothing needs to happen If you don’t feel like it.”

Viktor’s lips twitched, caught between protest and a smile. After a beat, he lifted the lid once more and reached inside. The weight of it surprised him first—heavier than he expected, solid in his hand. From the tip down to the middle it was thicker than the dildo he kept at home, and the base flared wider still, shaped into a knot that made heat climb to his cheeks. The silicone was a deep, almost regal shade of purple, with sculpted veins that caught the light in faint ridges. It felt less like a sex toy and more like a piece of art. It could be both, he supposed. 

His fingers curled tighter around it as embarrassment stirred in his chest and heat went down to his groin. Was Jayce doing this only because he had confessed that the idea interested him? The thought made his stomach twist, but then again, Jayce had taken the time to find this, to buy it, to place it in his lap with that steady, hopeful look. That effort alone was confirmation enough. Besides, he had been considering ordering something like it for himself someday, saving the thought of inviting Jayce to share it for when he found enough courage. Jayce, as it turned out, had simply been quicker.

Jayce watched him quietly and patiently. 

“You like it?” he finally asked, teasing just enough to draw a reaction.

“I do,” he admitted quietly, eyes flicking up.

Jayce’s smile was soft, approving. “Would you like to try it?”

Viktor nodded, for all his initial shyness, he felt something unspoken pass between them. Jayce simply grabbed Viktor’s cane with one hand, and offered the other. “Come with me.”

The weight of the request was in his tone, not his words. Viktor hesitated only a moment before sliding his palm into Jayce’s. His hand was warm, his grip easy but sure, guiding him down the short hallway to the bedroom.

Jayce adjusted one of the lights, dimming the room so that only a soft glow remained. The pillows on the bed were carefully arranged, including the two extra ones he had bought specifically for Viktor. And then there was the bottle of lube already waiting on the sheets. Of all the lovers he’d ever had, Jayce might actually be the first to think ahead about something like that. Leave it to him to make even lubricant feel like a gesture of great care.

Jayce stepped close, his chest brushing Viktor’s shoulder, one hand settling lightly at the back of Viktor’s neck. “Still good?”

“ Yes .” Gods, he already sounded needy.

Jayce smiled, a pleased curve that made something deep in Viktor’s core tighten, as he leaned in. Their lips met with a slow inevitability, soft at first, molding together. It was unhurried, coaxing rather than demanding. He could feel the subtle warmth of Jayce’s breath, the gentle tilt of his head, the quiet patience in each motion, and it made Viktor want more, already drunk on the closeness.

Viktor’s breath hitched, his lips parting just enough for Jayce to deepen it. The gentle slide of tongue against tongue sent a shiver coursing through him, each meeting of lips followed by the faintest suction, the faintest catch of teeth on tender skin. Their breaths mingled, warm and unsteady, every exhale ghosting into the other’s mouth before being swallowed up in the next kiss.

Every time Jayce drew back the smallest distance, Viktor found himself chasing after him, unwilling to let the contact go, already aching for more.

“Been thinking about this all week,” Jayce murmured against his lips. “About you.”

Viktor swallowed hard, lips still tingling from the kiss. He wanted to say it, wanted to tell Jayce that he hadn’t just been thinking of him all week, but every day, every hour, until the line between longing and need had blurred beyond recognition. 

“Then we’ve both been distracted,” he whispered, pressing closer, trembling with all the weight he couldn’t yet put into words.

Viktor’s hands found the edge of Jayce’s shirt, sliding up under the soft fabric. Heat met his palms instantly, muscle shifting and tightening under his touch. Every movement felt alive, a subtle give and take between them. Jayce’s own hands mirrored the rhythm, gliding over Viktor’s arms and torso, tracing lines, lingering on curves. Their mouths met again and again, lips fitting together with a wet, hungry insistence, tongues stroking and curling until it was hard to tell whose breath belonged to whom. Viktor moaned into the kiss, the sound muffled against Jayce’s mouth.

Each stroke of tongue drew a low groan from Jayce, vibrating straight through Viktor’s core. The kiss turned molten and messy, lips dragging and catching, slick with saliva, each gasp and whimper from Viktor, fueling the desire he felt emanating from Jayce.

Their mouths clung until breathing became impossible, the kiss unraveling into gasps and broken moans that tangled between them. It was messy and wet just how Viktor liked it, the press and drag of lips swollen from the force of it.  Teeth caught on lips, tugged, until both of them were slick with spit, strands clinging when they broke apart only to crash back together. Viktor’s head tipped back, throat bared on a trembling breath, and Jayce chased him immediately, catching the next moan before it could escape, devouring it like he couldn’t stand to let it go to waste.

When their mouths finally parted, Viktor could still feel the kiss lingering in the heat of it on his lips, the way his pulse refused to steady. Each breath came uneven, catching on the memory of Jayce’s mouth moving against his. He felt the faint brush of lips at his jaw, slower now, as if Jayce were forcing himself into calm. The contrast made Viktor shiver, sensing the restraint in every measured press. And then that voice came, low and steady against his skin, curling into his ear like a tether. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop at any moment.”

“I will,” Viktor answered, his own voice a little rougher than he intended.

Jayce eased him toward the bed, hands at his hips, guiding him to sit. The mattress dipped under his weight. Jayce went to one knee in front of him, eyes lifting to meet Viktor’s before touching him again, fingertips tracing the inside of his thigh, high enough to make him shiver, but not enough to press where he needed the most.

“You are so beautiful like this,” Jayce murmured. 

Viktor’s fingers curled into the bedspread. He loved how easily those words went straight through him, how the tone, deep and velvet-smooth, made his cunt wet.

Jayce’s touch skimmed higher, over fabric, warm palm pressing against his cock. Viktor let out a slow breath, head tipping back slightly.

“Lie back for me,” Jayce said softly.

Viktor obeyed without thinking. The room felt quieter now, their breaths the only thing filling the space. Jayce worked him out of his clothes with that same gentle care, pausing between each layer to kiss whatever skin he uncovered.

When Viktor was bare, Jayce leaned over him, bracing one hand beside his head. 

“What a handsome man,” he murmured, brushing his mouth against Viktor’s again.

“I want you to take your clothes off too,” Viktor whispered against his lips, his voice rough with need.

Jayce tilted his head, a teasing smile tugging at his mouth, before doing exactly as asked. He stripped slowly, drawing out every second, first his shirt, then his pants. Viktor’s eyes followed every movement, drinking him in.

Jayce was already half-hard, his cock thickening as it bobbed with each motion, the sight making Viktor salivate, resolve firming in his chest: I’m going to suck him off tonight, no matter what.  Jayce settled beside him on the bed, their bodies pressing together. He leaned in, lips tracing soft, lingering kisses across Viktor’s cheeks before brushing over his mouth. Every motion was patient, teasing and seeking responses from Viktor with the gentlest pressure. 

Viktor’s lips parted, soft moans slipping out against Jayce’s, his body already responding, slickness gathering between his folds, heart hammering against ribs. Every glide of Jayce’s hands over his chest, down his sides, along the curve of his hips sent shivers through him, senses sharpened to the exquisite feel of skin against skin.  Jayce’s fingers wandered lower, unhurried, tracing his slit., each pass spread the dampness already gathering there. Viktor lifted his lips,  chasing the touch he wasn’t yet being given, a quiet plea in the tremor of his body. 

When Jayce finally brushed against his cock—swollen, peeking proudly from its hood—he couldn’t hold back the soft, broken whimper that slipped free. The sound embarrassed him, yet the heat of it only intensify, because he knew Jayce had been drawing it out, testing how long he could last before getting bossy. And gods, he hated how much he loved being pushed that far.

Jayce’s hand shifted, catching Viktor’s cock between the firm press of his index and middle finger. He stroked in a teasing rhythm, dragging up and down until Viktor’s thighs. Jayce kissed him through every sound, swallowing the broken whimpers that slipped out no matter how hard Viktor tried to hold them back. 

By the time Jayce finally drew back, Viktor’s lips were damp, his chest rising too fast as longing and need tangled together.

He could only watch, dazed, as Jayce reached for the bottle of lube, slicking his fingers.

“Don’t drag this out,” he snapped. “I need your fingers, the toy— anything —inside me now.”

“I just want you to be as comfortable as possible,” he chuckled, closing the bottle lip with a soft click. 

They both knew it was coming, but Jayce seemed intent on making the wait its own kind of torture. His fingers found Viktor’s heat, teasing the folds of his cunt, spreading the slick even more.

Viktor bit down on a sound, trying to stifle it, but his hips betrayed him, moving involuntarily, pressing into the empty space where Jayce’s hand lingered. The anticipation itself was delicious, a slow burn that made his senses hyperaware of the wetness between his legs, the warmth of Jayce’s hand, the subtle pressure of his weight beside him, the taut line of his own desire threading through every nerve ending.

“Yeah… that’s it,” Jayce murmured, voice low, almost a growl. His fingers pressed in gently at first, drawing soft whines and gasps, Viktor’s muscles flexing around him. One finger, then two, then three — each movement slow, careful, designed to open him up, make him want more. Viktor’s body arched toward his fingers as Jayce set the rhythm, guiding him, reading every shiver and moan with that attentive, commanding patience Viktor knew only he could give.

“I’ll take them out now.” Jayce’s hand left him only long enough to reach for the dildo. Viktor watched through half-lidded eyes, already missing the weight and heat of Jayce inside him.  

Jayce warmed the toy between his palms, the slick sound of lube spreading over his fingers loud in the quiet room. Viktor’s gaze followed every motion, heart hammering, the earlier emptiness quickly replaced by the heat of expectation.

“Look at me,” Jayce said softly.

Viktor did.

He kneeled between his thighs, the toy gleaming in his hand. He brought it closer, brushing the flared tip against Viktor’s entrance without pressing.

“Different shape, different kind of stretch,” Jayce’s voice was low and steady, and Viktor found himself hanging on every beat of its cadence. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

Viktor could only nod. The warmth of Jayce’s gaze, the careful patience in his movements, made the ache of need more bearable, grounding him even as every nerve seemed to tingle in expectation.

The first touch was cold as Jayce circled the tip carefully before pressing in, Viktor’s body igniting at the intrusion. He inhaled sharply, muscles tensing and quivering under the pressure even as he willed himself to relax, a tremor running through his thighs. Jayce’s other hand smoothed over his leg, grounding him, a steady counterpoint to the heat pooling low in his belly and the slick spreading over his folds.

He had used dildos before, many times, and this one wasn’t much larger than Jayce’s own length and girth—except for the knot, of course. That part alone sent a shiver through him, a sensation so intense he couldn’t even find words for it.

“Easy,” Jayce coaxed, voice dipping lower, steadier, like a guide in the dark. “Just the tip for now. Breathe.”

Viktor obeyed, letting the tip press and slide with shallow pushes. Each motion stretched him, drew him taut. The sensation was achingly new, a mix of fullness, friction, and teasing warmth that left him gasping quietly.

“Talk to me, how are you feeling?” Jayce murmured, eyes locked on his.

“Hot,” Viktor admitted, a soft whimper escaping. Every fiber of him seemed alive, tingling, the toy’s pressure and weight setting fire to nerves he hadn’t even known were waiting. But it wasn’t the dildo itself, was it? No, it was sharing this moment with the man he loved.

Jayce’s eyes darkened. “Good. That’s good.” He leaned in to kiss the inside of Viktor’s knee, his voice vibrating against skin. “Let it in.”

From that angle, Viktor couldn’t help but see him—Jayce’s cock, flushed and heavy, fully hard now, the thick length straining upward. Pre-cum gathered at the red tip, glistening in the low light, threatening to spill. He ached to lean forward, to taste it, to lick every drop, to feel the weight of Jayce’s cock on his tongue and down his throat.

Another inch slid inside. Viktor’s eyes fluttered shut, his mouth parting on a soft sound that surprised him. Jayce groaned low in his chest at the noise, as if it had gone straight to his spine.

Then came the ridge. Not the full knot yet, but enough to make Viktor’s back arch when it pressed against him. His breath stuttered, caught between discomfort and a sudden pulse of heat.

Jayce paused instantly. “There?”

“ Yes ,” Viktor managed, fingers flexing tight against the sheets. “Strange… but—” He swallowed. “Good.”

“Mm.” Jayce nipped at his thigh, his words a low murmur against flushed skin. “That’s it… taking me so well. This tight little cunt was made for my cock. You feel so fucking good around me, Viktor.”

He pushed deeper, the stretch burning and delicious, Viktor clenching helplessly around the dildo. Every word Jayce spilled seemed to brand itself into his skin.

He started to move faster, dragging the toy out almost to the tip only to slam it back in, stopping just before the knot, building a rhythm that punched the air from Viktor’s lungs. The obscene, wet slap of lube-slick silicone meeting him echoed through the room, each thrust messier, louder, Viktor’s moans spilling free, raw and unrestrained.

“Fuck,” Jayce groaned, tightening his grip on Viktor’s hip to keep him steady, pressing him down harder on the thick length. His gaze drank in Viktor’s wrecked expression, the way his lips parted around every desperate cry. “Look at you—so fucking gorgeous like this. Moaning for me, dripping for me. Taking it like you were made for my cock. You’re mine.”

Viktor gasped, his voice cracking around a cry when Jayce bottomed out again, stopping just before pulling back.

“Too much?” Jayce rasped.

Viktor shook his head quickly, curls sticking to his damp forehead. “N-no,” he gasped, voice wrecked. “Not too much… please, Jayce, don’t stop. I need more.” His thighs trembled as he pushed back against the thrust, desperate, chasing the pressure that made his vision blur. “Harder,” he pleaded. “Give me all of it. I can take it.”

Jayce’s hand slid along his side, thumb brushing the sharp line of his ribs. “You’re breathtaking like this, so open for me. Every sound you make— fuck .”

He drew the toy all the way back, then pressed it forward again, a slow grind that forced a sharp gasp from Viktor’s throat. Jayce leaned closer.

“Tell me,” he murmured, every word vibrating against Viktor’s skin, voice dropping lower, “are you imagining yourself in his place? The prince, desperate and burning, realizing what he needs?”

Viktor’s breath caught. “Jayce—”  

“You want it, don’t you?” Jayce pressed, voice sliding into that same commanding cadence. A tone Viktor knew all too well—the one he had heard narrating the knight in his audiobook. “My knot. Say it.”

Viktor’s back arched involuntarily, “Yes… fuck—yes.”

Jayce’s mouth traced the line of his jaw, then down his throat. “Your scent drives me mad, little prince. You’re burning up, and I’m the only one who can soothe you. Let me fill you. Let me claim you.”

Viktor shuddered, his body responding to the combination of pressure, stretch, and Jayce’s words as if it were wired directly into him. He tried to steady his breathing, but it came in ragged, desperate gasps, each inhale punctuated by a soft whimper.

“Come on, ask for what you want.” Jayce’s laced with his own mounting need. “Say it, my prince.”

“Jayce, please—” Viktor’s words broke into a shuddering gasp, delirium tightening his chest. “Knot me!”

The knot slid deeper with push, seating fully now, and Viktor’s body tensed around it, muscles clenching in a delicious, almost painful rhythm.  His mind felt both overwhelmed and sharpened; every inch of stretch and fullness magnified by the heat of Jayce’s hands and the resonance of his voice whispering through the haze of want.

“Look at you,” Jayce murmured, brushing a hand down Viktor’s side. “So perfect like this,  every shiver, every little moan. Do you feel it? My knot, pulling, stretching… you’re mine.”

Viktor couldn’t hold back. His hips jerked, body trembling violently as pleasure built higher and higher. 

“Come for me,” Jayce whispered, “let go, little prince, let me hear you.”

With his other hand, Jayce found Viktor’s cock, circling the flushed bud. The dual sensation was devastating—stretch and pressure below, touch and friction above—and it sent Viktor spiraling faster than he could bear. Heat and slick gathered, tension coiling tight until it snapped, dragging him into a sharp, unrelenting climax. His body seized, trembling, every muscle spasming around the knot as his release spilled hot between them.

Viktor’s cries spilled out, rough and unrestrained, surrendering utterly to the storm of sensation. Jayce held him steady, stroking him through every pulse, his voice a constant presence in his ear. He whispered praises, weaving in lines from the book—the knight guiding the prince—except now they were adapted, intimate, utterly his. The words carried possession, devotion, desire; each one seemed to anchor Viktor deeper in the moment. Every touch, every murmur pushed the pleasure higher, until all that remained was Jayce’s voice and Viktor’s surrender.

When the climax ebbed, Viktor lay back, trembling, sweat slick along his temples. Jayce leaned down, kissing his lips softly, almost gently after the storm. “Incredible,” he murmured. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Viktor could only manage a broken laugh, “I think I do.”

“You sound just like the prince in heat, only so much better,” Jayce grinned, brushing damp hair off his forehead.

Viktor lay on his side, body still trembling slightly, breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as he tried to process the intensity of what had just happened. Every touch from Jayce now, gentle and slow, made the lingering tension in his muscles melt away, replaced by warmth and comfort. Jayce settled behind him, arms wrapping carefully around Viktor. His palm rested over Viktor’s chest, fingers tracing soothing patterns.

“You okay?” Jayce murmured near his ear.

Viktor leaned back, resting his head against Jayce’s shoulder. “Yeah, I feel safe with you.” His voice was still hoarse from the orgasm, a tired smile spreading across his face. “Like nothing could hurt me here.”

Jayce gave him a slight squeeze, nose brushing the curve of Viktor’s neck. “That’s exactly why I’m here.” He let out a soft sigh, pleased by the trust Viktor had placed in him. “You don’t need to worry about anything.” Jayce’s hand traced over Viktor’s ribs, down to his hip, never rushing. The toy was gone now, set aside, but the memory of its fullness lingered. Viktor felt it in the slight fluttering of his cunt, the way his muscles still remembered the stretch. He shivered and Jayce’s hand moved instinctively, caressing his back. 

“You’re still trembling. Poor little prince… I think you liked that more than you realize.”

Through the clouds of his orgasm, a surge of arousal shot through Viktor again, igniting muscles he had thought would be spent.  Viktor’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Jayce—still fully hard, veins pronounced, head flushed with his own lingering need.  

He propped himself up on his elbows, tilting back onto the headboard just enough to watch Jayce, eyes curious and dark with desire. A wicked little smile tugged at hid lips. “Alpha,  aren’t you going to use my mouth?”

Jayce’s grin answered him as he sank to his knees in front of Viktor, cock hovering at the perfect height. Viktor’s tongue darted out instinctively, licking a bead of pre, and he nodded, words unnecessary.

The thought hit him, sharp and dizzying: he could take this cock in his mouth for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. The heady mix of power, warmth, and temptation sent another shiver straight through his spine.

Jayce leaned in, guiding, and began moving faster, the slick length pressing and sliding in. “You like it when I use you like this. Your mouth was made to take me.”

A soft gag tore from Viktor’s throat as Jayce pushed deeper, the stretch enough to blur his vision and make his eyes water. The taste filled his mouth, thick and overwhelming, while the fullness below made his entire body tighten. When Jayce’s hips began to move with a steady, controlled rhythm, Viktor whimpered around his cock, drool spilling past his lips as his throat worked helplessly, caught between the edge of too much and the dizzying need for more.

Jayce’s hands steadied Viktor’s head, firm but careful, tilting him just enough to maintain control. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Jayce warned, voice ragged with need, a slight pause as if to pull free, but Viktor’s hands shot to his hips, sliding back to grip his ass, holding him there with a desperate strength. The message was clear: don’t move, don’t you dare leave me empty.

The next second, hot spurts of release hit the back of Viktor’s throat, sudden and overwhelming. His  throat worked around the thick heat as his body trembled. Tears clung to his lashes, saliva slick on his chin, but all he could think of was the way Jayce pulsed against his tongue, the raw sound of his groan above him. Each swallow was equal parts devotion and need, an offering, his chest tightening with the dizzying sweetness of being desired.

Jayce slowly pulled back, letting Viktor catch his breath, though he stayed close, hands gentle on his shoulders, thumbs brushing over damp skin.

Viktor’s chest heaved, eyes shut as he tried to gather himself. He wanted so badly to say it— I love you —the words burning on the tip of his tongue, heavy and insistent. But his voice caught in his throat, tangled in the aftermath of what they’d just shared. Instead, he pressed a shaky hand against Jayce’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat, letting that be enough for now.

Jayce leaned down, forehead resting against his.

“You’re perfect” he said, brushing hair from Viktor’s damp face. “So good, in every way.” 

Viktor let himself be held, let the warmth and quiet love of the moment speak for him, even if the words couldn’t.