Chapter Text
It wasn’t exactly a shock when he went back to it. Life had lost its spark. Since Jayce’s promotion to councilman, he’d been spending less and less time at the lab. Viktor was lonely. Miss Young was excellent company, sure, but she wasn’t Jayce. She wasn’t his lab partner.
Too bad Jayce was now too busy running a city, stopping criminals, and playing hero.
With Viktor’s health on the decline, even the small joys of life had started to slip away. At first, he told himself he just needed a little spark to get back on track. A tiny push to rejoin the so-called circle of life. But even from the start, he knew it was a lie.
Weed and other mind-altering substances were frowned upon in the high society of Piltover. But Viktor wasn’t from Piltover.
He had spent his youth in the Undercity, a place that breathed with its own twisted life. He’d picked up a few habits there—ones he wasn’t particularly proud of. But they made life a little more bearable, so he stuck with them.
Even after Professor Heimerdinger pulled him off the streets, quitting never felt like an option. Viktor, by principle, hated doing exactly what he was told. He did the bare minimum to stay in line, but giving up something just because society disapproved? That wasn’t him.
So, he smoked his way through his academy years, ignoring the judgmental glares from Piltover’s elite students. He’d light up before classes, just enough to start the day on a good note. The loner weirdo from the Undercity, giggling to himself in the back of lectures. It made life… okay. It made assisting at the academy tolerable.
Ironically, the thing that made him quit wasn’t shame or discipline. It was the golden boy of Piltover himself—though back then, Jayce was far from the shining star everyone knew him as now. When they first met, he was just a mess of tears and frustration, standing in a lab with a blasted-out wall.
And somehow, Viktor cared.
Jayce was the first, and probably the only, Piltie Viktor ever wanted to impress. There was something about him—charming, yet constantly on the edge of panic, like he was barely holding everything together. It was endearing.
Before Viktor even realized it, Jayce had become his new drug. He didn’t need his supplies from the Undercity anymore—he had Jayce to lift his mood. Without meaning to, he quit smoking altogether. Suddenly, he was surviving in Piltover without needing to blur reality.
Viktor stopped caring what people said about him. He had Jayce, and that was enough.
Well—maybe he cared a little too much about Jayce’s perception of him. Enough to want to be the best version of himself for Piltover’s golden boy.
That meant not smelling like weed. That meant actually obeying at least half the lab safety rules, just so Jayce would stop giving him those damn puppy eyes whenever Viktor acted like a danger to himself.
All for Jayce.
So really, it made perfect sense. When he was deprived of his new addiction, he went crawling back to the old one.
It was easy to find the box under his bed. The ziplock bag with the goods, the rolling papers, a few already-rolled joints.
Nothing fancy. Half-handmade, half-fixed up by Viktor himself. It had followed him through his whole life, and it still got the job done.
He lit up one of the older joints, settling into the open window with one bare foot dangling over the edge. His back pressed against the cold frame, the night air brushing against his skin. Only the faint orange glow of the ember cut through the darkness, flickering softly with each inhale.
Viktor held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling, watching as the thin tendrils curled up into the night. Already, he felt a little better. The familiar burn in his throat, the warmth settling in his chest—it was a comfort he hadn’t realized he missed. In the stillness of his small, dimly lit flat, with nothing but the cold air and the hum of the city below, he could almost trick himself into thinking things were okay.
It smelled like nostalgia. Like the long-forgotten remnants of his teenage years. Climbing up rusted fire escapes and sneaking into the hollowed-out remains of abandoned warehouses, finding the highest, safest corners where he could stretch out and let the world dissolve into something softer. Back then, it was never about escaping reality—it was about making it bearable.
The stars were clearer here than they had ever been in the Undercity. No thick smog to cloud the sky, no neon signs flashing through the darkness. Just endless, quiet space. He focused on the tiny pinpricks of light, following their patterns as he exhaled another slow stream of smoke. For the first time in months, his body felt at ease, his mind quiet.
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea—to smoke when he was already one foot in the grave. But Viktor didn’t need a doctor to tell him what he already knew. The signs were all there, written into his body like an inevitable equation. The way his head throbbed when he stood for too long, the way his leg never quite felt like it belonged to him, like a mangled afterthought that his body barely tolerated.
Still, until a doctor put it into words, he didn’t have to face it. And even when they did—well, what was anyone going to do? Forbid a dying man his last smoke?
Either way, he was doomed. It didn’t matter. The thought made him chuckle under his breath.
At first, the nights were all he needed. Just a quick one before bed, a moment to himself before the weight of the world came crashing back down. Then, one before work. Living a double life wasn’t so hard when you had years of practice.
He was still the face of Hextech, after all. And with Jayce off playing savior, Viktor had become the main man on the project. He had to look neat, composed—like he wasn’t fraying at the edges.
So, at first, he at least tried to pretend he had it together. Maybe for his assistant, Miss Sky. Maybe for Jayce, even though he wasn’t there to notice.
He made sure his clothes didn’t carry the telltale bittersweet scent of smoke. He followed lab safety rules, even if he couldn’t care less about them. He played the part, wore the face of a man in control, looked exactly the way a head scientist should.
But then came the moment that made him stop pretending.
"Wait—you’re from Fishers too?"
Viktor turned, caught off guard. There wasn’t even a trace of an accent in her voice.
"Yeah… I think I remember seeing you a few times when I was playing down the street."
Sky smiled, curls bouncing with the movement. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear it—the slight lilt of a Zaunite accent buried beneath the polished Piltover tone.
Home sweet home.
And just like that, Viktor stopped caring. She wasn’t some naive, sheltered girl, raised behind Piltover’s gilded walls.
She had grown up the same way he had, walked the same streets, breathed the same air thick with chemicals and desperation. He didn’t have to feel bad for ruining her. And he sure as hell didn’t have to worry about her reporting him to anyone.
Even if her reaction wasn’t exactly calm.
"Viktor, are you high?" Sky gasped.
Maybe he had stopped caring about the rule of only smoking in the mornings and evenings. Maybe work was just more interesting this way.
The best science was always done stoned out of his mind.
His professional facade was crumbling, and he couldn’t bring himself to care.
"High as a kite, Miss Young," Viktor murmured, taking another slow drag as he studied the calculations spread across the table in front of him. "Much more fun this way."
He exhaled, watching the smoke swirl and drift between them before breaking into a quiet, breathless giggle.
Of course, he was right—Sky didn’t report him. She only shook her head in exasperation and let him carry on with his shenanigans. And while she never accepted the joint he occasionally slid her way, she wasn’t judgmental about it either.
She understood how it worked. She’d been around it her whole life.
Viktor, at the very least, made an effort not to blow smoke directly in her face—out of basic human decency.
The smoking had a way of kicking his creativity into overdrive. Some of the ideas he came up with while high were absurd—borderline dangerous, even—but most of them worked. And some of them? Some of them were genius.
Granted, he usually looked like a half-mad raccoon that had escaped from a psych ward while explaining them, but Sky had gotten used to that. She only complained when absolutely necessary.
"I will never understand you," she groaned from the other workbench, watching as Viktor wrestled with a piece of tech, a wrench in one hand and a joint hanging precariously from the corner of his lips.
He plucked it out just long enough to reply, "Miss Young, I thought you weren’t allergic to fun."
He grinned at her. She sighed irritably. He went back to work.
With Jayce coming back to the lab at longer and longer intervals, Viktor’s adherence to lab protocols began to disappear at an alarming rate.
When Jayce stopped showing up for days at a time, Viktor had already given up on wearing safety goggles. He no longer bothered stepping back when turning on a new experiment, didn’t even care about moving to the fireproof walls before activating something volatile. What would happen would happen either way—this just felt more organic.
When Jayce started returning only every other week, Viktor lost all motivation to wash the lab utensils. So what if the mug he was drinking from had contained some unidentified liquid before? It didn’t taste that bad. He would even argue it added to the flavor.
Sky called him a madman and left him to his own devices. Truly, Viktor had the best assistant he could have asked for.
When Jayce started showing up only once every few months, Viktor decided that wearing the academy uniform was no longer a requirement for doing his job.
At first, it started small—unbuttoning the collar, rolling up his sleeves. Then, one day, he simply stopped bothering altogether. He walked around the lab half-dressed, pants hanging low on his hips, chest bare.
Mostly, he told Sky, because the uniforms were uncomfortable. Too hot, too stiff, too restrictive. Hard to move in.
That was the reason he gave her when she first walked in to find him shirtless, half-buried in the open casing of some machine.
The other reason, the one he didn’t say out loud, was that he liked breaking the rules.
He liked knowing that Piltover had a very clear image of what the Head of Hextech should look like—composed, refined, professional—and here he was, sprawled out on the worktable, half-dressed, tinkering with loose scraps of metal.
And the best part? It wasn’t even the drugs that made him act this way. It was just him.
"Why are you like this," was all Sky said, the closest thing to approval he would get in this situation.
Viktor just shrugged, smiling like a perfect saint. She rolled her eyes and went back to work. By now, this was just a normal Wednesday for her.
With Jayce gone for longer and longer stretches, Viktor had almost started to forget he had ever shared the lab with anyone other than Sky.
It wasn’t his fault Jayce had decided that Piltover’s political stage was more interesting than the endless mysteries of Hextech. Easy to forget a man who was never there—especially when there was so much work to be done.
And really, if Piltover’s golden boy planned to make an appearance, the least he could do was send a letter in advance. A polite heads-up. Maybe a formal notice.
That would have saved them all from that painfully awkward situation.
But none of that was Viktor’s fault.
It just happened.
—
With everything so hectic, it wasn’t all that surprising that Jayce hadn’t shown up at the lab in so long. He had relationships to build with the other council members, hands to shake with every merchant in Piltover, and endless stacks of news and reports to read through. You know, the important things.
Yeah, he missed Viktor, but that man could handle the lab on his own. In fact, every time Jayce did visit, it only slowed Viktor’s progress. So he left him to his own devices, trusting that he could manage as the head of the project.
Another thing that made stepping away from his council duties so difficult was his new friend.
Mel Medarda was a remarkable woman. She had been a huge help in easing him into his new role, walking him through the rules, the stakes, the real power plays behind the council's polished facade. And beyond that? She was warm, intelligent, endlessly composed. She had a wicked sense of humor and a way of making him feel like the most important person in the room when she spoke to him.
Jayce wanted to be around her. Wanted to impress her.
So he stayed later than necessary, worked harder than his job required—just for the satisfaction of seeing her lips curl into a quiet smile of approval. Just for the chance to feel proud of himself.
Which was why he felt a little guilty about leaving early today.
Giving Mel a sheepish smile, he gathered up his papers at his desk, stacking them into a somewhat organized pile.
"It’s been too long," he admitted. "I need to check up on Viktor, see how the research is going." He smiled apologetically, then paused as an idea sparked in his mind.
"You could always come with me," he offered, brightening. "I know you’ve already seen the lab, but you didn’t have my wonderful commentary to go along with it."
Jayce grinned at her, open and inviting. And, of course, Mel accepted.
That was perfect.
He couldn’t wait to show her the progress they’d made with Hextech. She was their first supporter—she deserved to see the magic behind the curtain. And if Jayce got to hear a few quiet murmurs of approval from her while they walked through the lab, well… that was for him and him alone to enjoy.
He was also eager to introduce her to Viktor. They had seen each other in passing, of course, but Jayce had never witnessed them interact.
And if they had the chance to properly talk? Oh, they would hit it off right away.
They were similar—two of the smartest people Jayce knew. Two of his absolute favorite people.
Bringing Mel to the lab, introducing her to Viktor—he was sure it would earn him some major brownie points.
"Mel, I know you’ve already seen him," Jayce started as they walked through the halls, "but just—he’s amazing. I’ve never met someone so brilliant and reliable." He couldn’t help but hype up his lab partner, words spilling out with genuine enthusiasm. "He’s hardworking, innovative—once you talk to him, you’ll see. You two will click immediately."
He smiled at her, excitement clear in his expression.
Mel walked beside him, her posture graceful as ever. The pristine white fabric of her dress hugged her form perfectly, her golden jewelry catching the light as she moved. She looked flawless.
"This is where the magic happens."
A cheeky line, one Jayce had rehearsed in the mirror that very morning. A little over-the-top, sure, but not untrue. The lab was where the magic happened.
Smiling, he pushed open the door, holding it open so Mel could step inside first.
The moment he followed her in, his excitement began shifting into something heavier. Something that settled uneasily in his chest.
Viktor was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Sky.
Jayce’s brows furrowed as he scanned the room. Notes and equipment were scattered about as usual—nothing looked too out of place. But the silence was wrong.
The smell hit him.
Thick, cloying, and unmistakable. It hung in the air, curling lazily toward the ceiling, and Jayce’s stomach dropped.
Smoke.
Not the acrid, nose-burning kind that came from burning metal or singed wires—no, this was sweeter. Thicker.
Something had definitely gone wrong.
His hands started to sweat. His pulse sped up. His brain immediately supplied the worst possible scenarios—an experiment had exploded, Viktor had inhaled toxic fumes, he was unconscious—no, worse—Jayce’s breath hitched. His skin prickled with worry.
"Viktor?"
His voice came out tighter than he intended, just barely quivering.
For a moment, there was only silence. The kind that stretched too long, making Jayce’s chest squeeze painfully.
"I am right here."
The words drifted in, lazy and unbothered.
Jayce nearly sagged with relief.
The familiar curl of Viktor’s Zaunite accent rolled through the room, cutting through his panic like a knife. The sound of shuffling followed—he was moving. He was fine.
Jayce exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before glancing at Mel. He stopped her with a quick shake of his head, keeping her from heading toward the smaller room Viktor had called from.
Viktor was coming to them. And god, Jayce couldn’t wait to see him. It had been too long.
Guilt pooled in his stomach as he looked around. Viktor had kept everything running—had kept the project going—alone. And even though the lab looked relatively normal, something about it felt… lonely.
Jayce had left him here.
He hadn’t meant to. He would rather be in the lab full-time, buried in research, working side by side with Viktor like they always had. But the people of Piltover needed him. He had responsibilities now.
Mel needed him.
But at least he didn’t have to do this alone.
He had Viktor. Always steady. Always rational. Always there to anchor him when things got chaotic. Viktor had been at his side through everything—through the backlash of his sudden council appointment, through the fallout of their stolen equipment, through every reckless decision Jayce had made.
Viktor had always been the calm one. The composed one. The one who made rational choices while Jayce acted on impulse.
Which was why Jayce nearly choked on air when said calm and composed scientist strolled through the doorway wearing absolutely nothing except for a loose pair of pants hanging dangerously low on his hips.
Jayce's brain short-circuited. His body locked up. For a full five seconds, he forgot how to breathe.
Because what the fuck.
Viktor was naked.
Okay—not fully naked. But close enough that it didn’t really matter.
Jayce had known Viktor for years. Had worked beside him every single day. And in all that time, Viktor had never broken the academy’s dress code. Never so much as rolled up his sleeves. Always neatly put together, always professional.
Yet here he was, standing in the doorway, completely unbothered, utterly unaware that he was on the verge of giving Jayce a stroke.
So much skin.
Jayce felt lightheaded.
Viktor was lanky, always had been, but this—this emphasized it. His collarbones stood out sharply, framing the long slope of his neck. His shoulders—paler than Jayce had expected—looked almost sculpted.
And his arms—
Jayce's gaze trailed lower, completely unbidden.
Viktor’s hands were perched lazily on his hips, drawing attention to the way his stomach dipped in before disappearing beneath the loose waistband of his pants. A faint, darker line of hair trailed downward from his navel, vanishing beneath the fabric.
Jayce swallowed hard.
His throat was suddenly bone dry.
This was the first time he had ever seen Viktor like this. And it was just. So much.
White upon white upon white—pale skin, stark under the dim light of the lab. For some reason, Jayce’s brain conjured up the image of a wedding dress.
He immediately banished that thought because oh no absolutely not. That was a dangerous train of thought, and he was not boarding it.
And—wait. Were those—?
Moles. Everywhere.
Jayce had never noticed before—not really—but Viktor was covered in them. Small, dark freckles scattered across his arms, his chest, the curve of his ribs—
Jayce’s fingers twitched.
A deeply inappropriate part of him wanted to trace them all.
Or—worse.
He wanted to kiss them. Very platonically. Obviously. Just… normal best friend things.
Like licking your lab partner’s chest in a completely innocent and totally everyday display of friendship.
Yup. Completely normal.
Jayce barely registered Mel’s shocked yelp behind him before she broke into a fit of coughing.
Okay. So at least he wasn’t the only one reacting this way.
That was reassuring.
For a second, he’d worried he was overreacting, but no—Mel looked just as stunned as he felt. Which meant this was a completely rational response to whatever the hell was happening right now.
“Jay–ce.”
Viktor smiled at him. And oh no. Something was very wrong.
Jayce had known Viktor for years. Had spent countless hours in the lab with him, long enough to know that Viktor wasn’t subtle when it came to his emotions. His face was basically an open book—whether it was frustration, exasperation, or quiet amusement, it was always clear what he was feeling.
This was not normal.
Viktor wasn’t the type to go around grinning at people like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. He wasn’t the smiley type. If anything, Viktor’s usual default was a sort of bored disapproval, like the world mildly inconvenienced him at all times.
Right now, he was standing there, bare-chested, wearing an almost dreamy lopsided smile, drawing out Jayce’s name like he was savoring the syllables.
Jayce’s stomach dropped.
“Are you… feeling okay?” he asked cautiously, taking a slow step forward. Maybe Viktor had hit his head. That would explain… all of this.
“Yeah, perfectly okay.”
Jayce had never heard anything less convincing in his life.
Before he could say anything else—before he could demand an explanation—Viktor moved.
Jayce blacked out for a second.
Because Viktor—Viktor, who had spent years flinching away from casual touches—was hugging him.
No. Not just hugging him.
Clinging to him.
Viktor’s arms slinked around his back, bare skin pressing against Jayce’s own. His head nestled into the crook of Jayce’s neck, warm breath fanning against his collarbone.
“I missed you,” Viktor murmured against his skin, voice soft, almost fond.
Jayce’s whole body shuddered.
His brain was malfunctioning. His lungs forgot how to work. His hands were just hovering uselessly at his sides because he had no idea what to do with them.
What was he supposed to do? Hug back? Push him off? Faint on the spot?
Never in a million years would Jayce have guessed that he would live to see the day when Viktor became a touchy person.
Because between the two of them, Jayce was the affectionate one. Jayce was the one who gave shoulder pats, playful nudges, bear hugs. And Viktor—Viktor was more like a skittish stray cat—not exactly opposed to touch, but definitely not seeking it out.
The first time Jayce had hugged Viktor, he’d been rewarded with a cane to the ribs for his efforts. Apparently, surprising Viktor with sudden physical contact was a bad idea.
Sure, he’d gotten him used to it over the years. At this point, Viktor could tolerate the occasional hug without looking like he wanted to die. Jayce could clap him on the shoulder, bump into him, even sling an arm around his back sometimes.
But this?
This was new.
This was Viktor hanging off of him, nuzzling into his cheek like some kind of affectionate pet.
Jayce had no idea what to do with this revelation.
And to make matters worse—Viktor’s fingers started playing with his hair. Jayce inhaled sharply.
Icy fingertips brushed against the back of his neck, threading through the strands of his hair like it was the most fascinating thing Viktor had ever encountered.
Jayce nearly died on the spot.
And Viktor—Viktor wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore.
He was just humming to himself, absently coiling Jayce’s hair around his fingers, completely unaware of the absolute havoc he was wreaking.
Jayce swallowed hard, heart pounding, mind spinning, body on fire.
He needed to fix this.
He wanted to turn to Mel—to make eye contact, to somehow convey that this was not, in fact, a normal occurrence. That he didn’t typically have his arms full of his half-naked lab partner. That this was not some kind of everyday routine they had going on.
But before he could even attempt damage control—
The sound of footsteps made him freeze.
“Ah. Good afternoon, Jayce. Councilor Medarda.”
Sky was standing in the doorway, taking in the scene before her.
She blinked once. Then again.
Jayce could see the exact moment her brain tried to process what was in front of her—Mel looking absolutely stunned, Jayce himself holding onto Viktor like he was trying to keep him upright, and Viktor… well. Viktor, barely dressed, draped all over him like some kind of personal heater.
Jayce braced himself for something. A reaction. A question. Anything.
But Sky—Sky just let out a small sigh, like she’d seen way worse, and walked straight past them.
Without a single word, she started sorting through the documents she had brought with her, filing them onto the shelves like nothing weird was happening at all.
Jayce gawked at her.
What—what was he supposed to do now?
He had counted on Sky to be his lifeline here. To explain, or at the very least, to acknowledge that this was not normal.
Instead, she was just… working. Like Viktor clinging to him like a sleepy koala was something that happened every day.
Which—okay, fine, Jayce still didn’t even know why Viktor was acting this way. He still hadn’t gotten a proper explanation.
But before he could even ask, Mel finally spoke.
“I see,” she said smoothly, eyeing Viktor with what could not be a good expression. “I think I might have misunderstood what you meant by ‘partner’ in this situation.”
Jayce panicked.
“Wait, Mel, this isn’t—this is not how he usually is,” he started quickly, trying to explain, but—
“Oh, actually,” Sky cut in, matter-of-factly, as if she had no idea she was about to ruin Jayce’s entire life.
“This is exactly how he usually is. I see him like this every day. Just a normal occurrence, really.”
Jayce could feel his soul leave his body.
Mel gave him a long, long look.
Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and started walking toward the exit.
Jayce acted fast.
Without thinking, he threw an unsuspecting Viktor at Sky—who barely managed to catch him—and bolted after Mel.
“Wait, Mel—this whole thing is just a big misunderstanding!”
She didn’t even stop walking.
“Yeah, Jayce, it was,” she said evenly, not slowing her pace. “But don’t worry. I understand now.”
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
She didn’t even look mad.
Just… disappointed.
“Mel—”
She didn’t let him finish.
“Believe me, you seemed plenty happy where you were just now,” she said lightly, giving him a small, unreadable smile. “Thank you for showing me the lab. I’ll go now and let you spend time with your partner.”
With that, she walked away, heels clicking against the floor, and shut the door behind her.
Jayce stood there, staring at the door.
For a long moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.
That—
That had not gone how he planned.
Slowly, he turned back to face the lab.
Sky was still standing where he left her, now holding onto Viktor like a human anchor. Viktor, for his part, was giggling under his breath, half-sitting on one of the worktables, staring down at his cane with childlike fascination.
Jayce had no idea if he was supposed to be angry, sad, or just resigned to his fate.
Mostly, he just felt… confused.
He rubbed a hand over his face, took a deep breath, and looked at Sky.
“Okay,” he said, voice strained, trying very, very hard to stay calm.
“I need an explanation.”
He pointed at Viktor.
“Why is he acting like this?”