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It was something Viktor had ignored at first.
Jayce by nature was a tactile person – it came with the trade. He didn’t trust what he couldn’t touch, or bend, or forge. Even magic had to be reached into and gutted, extrapolating an ineffable meaning into something real; synthesising something as abstract as a promise into the palm of his hand.The kind of thought process that turned equations into results, even if he had to level a building to do it..
All of this is to say, when they had begun arguing less, fucking more, when Viktor was allowing his augmented body to be under the same steely blue gaze that took apart the arcane for fun, he expected a stray glove, a wondering hand. Their first night in half a century and Jayce had dragged his palms up and down every sharp ridge of Viktor’s body, machine efficacy. He treated metal and flesh with the same engineer’s curiosity, taking him apart like diagnostics, burrowing inside and looking for a root cause, computer pathogens, virus on virus.
So, when an errant finger first found itself in the charging port on Viktor’s tailbone, crooking under the dust cover and circling its smooth rim, Viktor had ignored it. A misplaced search of ecstasy, maybe, or his scientific mind overriding his actions.
The second time, Viktor had administered a light zap, nothing more than a tingle, and Jayce had gotten the message, dipping his hands lower to graze between Viktor’s thighs instead.
By the third time, it warranted action.
“There are no pleasure sensors there, I assure you,” Viktor had been straddling Jayce’s lap, letting him curl his hands around Viktor’s waist, when they’d begun to creep backwards, his index once again exploring the port, seemingly thoughtlessly.
Viktor said it like it was asinine. He also said it as if Jayce hadn’t just freshly bottomed out inside him, and was perhaps not cognisant enough for casual conversation.
“Wha-?” Jayce blinked, looked to where they were connected, and returned his gaze to Viktor’s face with both a questioning glance and thrust upwards, a shallow pleasure. He made no intent to remove the two fingers now prying under the covering, dipping into the metal hole.
Viktor bristled at the feeling, resisting rocking down into Jayce for a moment. Instead, he reached back and circled Jayce’s wrist, pulling it from the port like a lost item; presenting it to Jayce as if they were both searching for its owner. He looks down at his own untouched dick in obvious disapproval, “You could put those fingers to better use, Giopara. I’m starting to lose my patience.”
Jayce rolled his eyes in response, but didn’t bother trying to snake the offending arm out of Viktor’s grip. With a light pull, testing the hold, he allowed himself to settle back on his free elbow, watching Viktor inquisitively instead. With this new angle, he could slowly roll his hips, keeping a low thrum of pleasure welling between them.
“No, I was just wondering if I needed to be careful of a claw sprouting out of your ass next – hgnh!” Jayce swallowed the words and Viktor bucked, pulling at his hair. The man leaned forward, hissing in his ear something demeaning and Jayce relented through his teeth, “Fuck, V, okay! I was trying to figure out the locking mechanism you use! I just got - mhmf! - curious! It’s where you charge your augments from, right?”
“If you wanted to know so badly, I could have shared the schematics with you,” Viktor tilted his head.
In truth, it would take more than just a question for him to be willing to share any designs with Jayce, but honesty was much less useful in this moment. No, he would gain more sympathy if he played the sycophant, the batting eyelashes, the innocent hip-rocking like he wasn’t driving Jayce insane in retaliation. .
“Love it when you talk dirty like that,” Jayce hummed. To anyone else, this could have been a flirty brush off, a sideways joke. Anyone else wouldn’t have felt his cock twitch at the idea of peeling apart the Heralds mechanical workings the way Viktor did, “I started with the claw thought, and then other attachments, and… I got this fantasy in mind. Something about you plugging new toys in there.”
Oh? Viktor pulled back to observe Jayce, seeing the kiss of a blush over his cheeks and stifling a pleased grin, “Well? Tell me, defender, what sort of debauchery have you envisioned with a charging port?”
“It feeds energy in, but it can root a current out too, right?” Jayce didn’t wait for Viktor’s confirmation nod, but he gave it anyway as the man kept talking, “I started picturing you with a tail. And then a full getup.Soft ears, kitty style, what’s the word you taught me?”
“Kisa, kitten.”
“Mm, yeah,” Jayce pulled himself back upright, flush to Viktor's chest. Cold skin and cold iron, both now pushing into Jayce’s orbit. He snaked his free arm around Viktor’s waist. While one hand remained captured between them, his other was now diving to play with the port on his tailbone, “You think you’d like that? Dress up all fancy, be my kisa?”
“I think you are in no position to be making demands,” Viktor rolled his hips, before putting his palms flat against Jayce’s chest and pushing him down to the mattress, “You should be the one with the tail and ears, seeing how you like to roll over. Isn’t that right, puppy?”
“Yeah,” Jayce relented immediately, following Viktor’s lead and laying supine, the hexclaw now pinning both his arms above his head. Viktor roamed over his body and he rutted up, “I’ll be your dog. Fuck. But if I’m good tonight, gimme a treat next time?”
Viktor squints at him, mulling it over for a second too long, “We shall see. Now, bark for me.”
The problem with Jayce’s crazy ideas is that they spread to Viktor like an infection. It had always worked that way between them, Jayce opening his mouth to let anything from the inane to the deeply illegal and morally reprehensible out, and Viktor felt a resonance made only for musical instruments, the deep in tune pitch that he always became when Jayce involved him.
It should have been a playful flirt, lost to the throws of pleasure. A one liner fantasy that Jayce had, clearly looking to switch positions. Perhaps, he would be satiated enough with just being dominant next time..
Viktor was a generally busy man, between his patience that flitted in and out through Emberlift to the constant need for better resources, his roaming of Zaun and the tasks he was assigned by Glasc for recompense – no, personal projects were few and far between these days. He put up a good front, played the villain for Piltover, made them think he was whiling away his exile in a pit of rage.
Which had been how it started. Now his best friend turned greatest enemy had levelled into something more of a strange, limbo romance, not defined in anyway other than pulling their punches and booking in time at the weekend, the exile had lost its edge. Instead, he cared less about the drama of the sister city, and worked on the good he could do here, in Zaun.
His shoulderblade could do with adjusting, certainly. The HexClaw was always good to fine tune - he’s upped the laser’s speed a good 15%, but the energy consumption deficit was too high to justify. And he still had that pesky organic leg that had long since begun lagging behind his augmented one.
Which is also to say that Viktor had a design for the tail done exactly three days after Jayce had suggested it.
It had better mobility than the claw, but with the same general strength - not enough to lift Jayce at his full weight with its thin attachment, but capable of resisting or holding him back. It should also in theory improve balance, functioning not unlike a real animal’s, attached to the nerves that had once tangled around the tailbone.
And, by chance, the tailbone itself was used to partially control arousal. So creating sensitive zones up the spine of the metal was more than simple enough. It would be easier to create if it was a permanent fixture that could be rooted into the nerves, but as it was, something that would plug in and out required a lot of careful designation. The Hexclaw synthesized the idea of this, but rooted deeper, and he was hesitant to remove it for the discomfort caused in the process. He was rarely without it these days.
A tail, however, he would very much not like to add to his permanent fixture.
Viktor looked over the sketches, added to a pile of works that he would like to get around to, should he find the perfect time and resource.
Bodysafe silicone wasn’t exactly in high supply in Emberlift, either. Perhaps, if he was raiding part of piltover anyway, then he could undoubtedly find the materials, maybe even snag something from a boutique or boudoir should he happen to pass one…
That, he supposed, could be Jayce's recompense for suggesting it in the first place.
In two more days, he had the first prototype made. Latched into his tailbone, it moved with full control, like a finger. The joint slats that allowed its movement were noisy, and sat strangely under the soft plastic casting he’d made for it, but for an initial design, it performed perfectly.
By that coming Friday, Viktor had a full set. The tail was fully mobile and functional, and had a lovely new casting with segmented silicone over the tip and underbelly. He’d left the lower base metal to allow for a range of texture and sensitivity, capable if he wanted to strike hard with it’s lower third.
It locked in with a twist, clicking the mechanism into place. The prongs spread in five different directions under the area, distributing weight enough he could lift with it without any strain - a hold he would definitely be adapting for the claw in the future.
And, since he was already committed to this, he crafted the ears himself too. Nothing like the soft and pretty design from Jayce’s limited imagination, no. This was an adaptation of his battle mask that only covered the top part of his head, pushing back to his crown where the ears were then placed. They could swivel, twitch, and lie flat, but he had much less conscious control over these than the claw or tail, reading signals from his brain rather than actually attaching to his system. It would do. Jayce would be far too enraptured with everything else - that much, Viktor was certain.
Jayce was due home within the hour. They hadn’t seen each other since Viktor’s earlier raid, an entirely frivolous venture that hadn’t done anything outside of creating a distraction for the Enforcers and give Viktor the additional materials he needed. Lack of motivation, however, meant that Jayce was more susceptible to questioning, pulled into talks about his old comrade to try and digest whatever nefarious plans he might have.
As such, Jayce had an old reliable messenger let Viktor know he wouldn’t be free for their usual rendezvous in the midweek, and would have to try and sneak his way down come the weekend.
Viktor was sprawled prone on the bed, a pair of lace boxers he’d recently acquired, with a less-than-ideal hole cut through the back to allow the tail to thread through. It was a jarring softness compared to the metal spreading across his body - from his augments, yes, but also from the kitty apparel that gleamed in harsh silvers against his pale skin. The anticipation was too much, even just waiting for Jayce, he found himself grinding slowly against the bed, building a gentle arousal in his stomach, hiding in wait.
Nothing about Jayce was subtle - his approach rang out across Viktor’s home base, the alerts outside flagged the presence of someone coming down the front of the Emberlift alley, and for a soft, sweet second, there was a blue light raised through the window, the tinging of Jayce’s hammer approaching the foyer below him.
Cats were ambush predators. Viktor considered stalking down, following Jayce around the house, breathing down his neck until his hunger took over. The metal tips of claws he’d fastened onto slippers made it too loud, though; at best, Jayce would laugh off his attempt. At worst, he might be on the receiving end of a cannon blast before Jayce had even registered it was him.
Best to wait. Play the indifferent housecat, indulge in watching Jayce vie for his affection instead. He was the one who wanted this, after all - he better earn it.
The front door is opened. An alarm sounds then silences itself almost as instantly as it comes.
“What was that, V?” Jayce was calling from downstairs, where he was toeing off his boots and making himself at home. Two sounds accompanied Jayce today, the large clanking whirr of the hammer, and a much quieter shuffling of papers, “Headline reads: ‘Does Piltover’s Most Wanted Have A Sense Of Humour? Seems Machines Need Love Too’. Shit, who writes this junk? ‘Do androids dream of electric sex’? Sprout’s actually highlighted that line...”
The kettle turned on. Two mugs clank together, a thrum of life through the kitchen, before he comes back to the stairs. The sound of the hammer against the wall. It is a call to domesticity that Viktor would have shrilled at a year ago. Now, he let a rumble of a purr pull out, the mechanical rattling pleasure at this newfound existence they’d eked out.
“Raiding the lab is one thing but a sex shop? I mean, if you were horny, you could have called, not sent your automatons out to-”
The footsteps had been meandering around the house, monologuing as he tapped the offending news article in thought. All his chiding was caught in his throat the moment he opened the bedroom door. In fact, everything was. Jayce stalls so hard he doesn’t even get a chance to breathe. Viktor wants to turn around and watch his reaction, but he has to remember the character - nonchalant, not asking for attention. No. He had to wait for Jayce to approach before he would even consider it.
The air is sparks of electricity and need.
“Oh, there’s a good kisa,” Jayce’s voice drawled out, rough and hungry, a sudden, stark difference from the chipper tone he’d sung through the house with, “C’mere, kitten, you been waiting there for me?”
Jayce stepped in, leaning forward so his knee was on the bed, a hand grazing over the back of Viktor’s calf. He dug his thumb into the flesh like he was offering a massage, teasing out a knot as his other wrapped around the back of Viktor's mechanical knee, pushing his legs further apart. The bed dipped down as more of his weight applied, the slating protesting to the metal weight of his leg armour.
“So good, waiting for me like that. Daddy’s gonna take care of you now, okay?”
Daddy? Where the hell had that come from?
Viktor whips his head around, a reprimand already prepared, until he catches Jayce’s expression. Heavy lidded, mouth slightly open, the blacks of his eyes dark pitch, swarming the thin rings of blue like the deep of the ocean, or maybe more like something hungry lurking in it. Any protest he has died on his tongue, and instead he watches intently as Jayce draws himself overtop.
His hands slide up, the lower now pushing his weight partly onto the flesh of Viktor’s thigh, the other riding up further, brushing over the boxers around the Herald's ass, mapping the curve like new terrain. The very tips of his fingers toyed at the top divet where cheek met lower back before, finally, pushing the final stretch up towards the tail.
“This is beautiful, Viktor,” Jayce hums into his ear, thumbing the meeting point of skin and metal attachment. He feels each bracket in the lock before encircling the base, carding it through his hands like he was toying with a real animal’s. And in response, it came alive, the silicone tip twitching, the base swishing in response to his hand. He brings both his knees onto the bed, still almost fully dressed, and slots himself between Viktor’s legs, upright, “I must have done something damn fucking right lately, huh, sweetheart.”
It’s not a question. Not even a dig for shallow praise. It’s far worse than that - it's the grandiose acknowledgement that Viktor was doing this for him.
Which was true. But usually, Jayce had to earn that, had to give Viktor everything and then some before he would so readily dole out what Jayce wanted back.
“Careful, Defender, or you might-”
Viktor turns to retort, but the words are torn out of him with a startle as Jayce pulls the tail upwards, lifting the back half of Viktor’s body in one sudden motion. He scrabbles to footing, and is rewarded almost instantly by feeling himself dropped into Jayce’s lap, the unmistakable bump of his caged erection grinding on Viktor as he lands. Fuck. Its a small testament to a promise later, one that involved Viktor being skewered on his dick.
“You put pleasure sensors in here, didn’t you?” Jayce’s voice is an arrogant cocktail of amusement and awe as he runs his hands on the midsection, pushing his face to kiss along its softer end. An erogenous zone, conducting the soft coil of pleasure through the metal into his spine. Viktor rocked to the touch, his arms now outstretched in front of him, his legs interlocking behind Jayce's back, knocking Jayce’s own calves as he did so.
“The tailbone is responsible for all kinds of reactions, Jayce. Perhaps that biology seminar has truly let you down after all.”
“Rhetocial question, V,” Jayce scolds, but he can hear the smile in his words, “Besides, last I checked, kittens don’t do much talking.”
It takes a moment for the meaning to sink in. Viktor’s mouth is a tight, embarrassed line, and he forgets for a moment he isn’t wearing his full mask as he stares over his shoulder to Jayce, incredulous, “Do you expect me to meow for you?”
“Actually, I would prefer purring,” Jayce grins back. He spits into the hand that had been wrapped around Viktor’s thigh and slides it between their bodies, disappearing into the sheer boxer leg to find and brush over Viktor's body.
What Viktor had equipped, Jayce had found, was often a daily surprise. Sometimes, he would select his largest cock, too big to hide under any of the metal plating and built gratuitously for fucking Jayce senseless with. Sometimes, there would be a flat space of metal, nothing but the soft padding around nerve-ending wires which Jayce could trace with his tongue, feeling every minute zap of pleasure just as it shot to Viktor’s brain.
And on days like today, he could feel the soft pillowing of Viktor's pussy, already wettening the area from nothing but some light teasing. He circles the outside of his hole for a moment, lets it gather like spit for a lurgy on the top of his finger, before glides upwards, lifting Viktor by the tail once more to give him better access to that pretty clit he knew was just above. Viktor whined in surprise, the ears of his mask clinking as they reacted to the pleasure, the metal base of his tail furling outwards in slats, puffing up.
“That’s much better, Kisa,” Jacye leans forward and drags his 5o’clock shadow over the thin expense of back before him, his index finger tracing feather light circles over Viktor. His body twitches in response, pulsing desperately on Jayces finger, “Oh, you want me to fuck your pussy so bad, don't you kitten? Mm? You gotta meow for it, baby.”
There's no response. Viktor bites down on his lower lip, stifling the whine that threatens to pull out of him.
Jayce stills at the silence, pulling off the cunt he'd been toying with, but not quite removing “V? Can I get a colour check, quick?”
“Green,” Viktor manages a steadying breath, all that pent up irritance and pleasure mingling together. If Jayce fucking stops touching him- “and just fuck me already.”
“Ha! Drop your arrogance, Kisa, and I’ll give you all you can beg for,” Jayce rolls his hips to tease, before one of his hands slips away from Viktor’s body. He uses it to shimmy his trousers and boxers down, barely enough space for his cock to slip out of, the fabric still tight around his hips, putting a not wholly welcome pressure on his balls as he did. No matter - the reward of fucking Viktor in almost full armour as just too tempting to resist.
As Viktor protests, Jayce lets his cock slide between the lips of his pussy, frotting his tip against the warm bump of clit he reaches. Viktor curses, rich in the honey of his accent, and Jayce grinds them together again, leaning back to admire himself disappearing under the other man’s body. No penetration yet, he couldn’t just jump to the end - not when V had put in all that effort for him.
“Oh baby, you’re so wet. Have you been preparing for me? Picked out which pretty hole you wanted me to fuck?” Jayce slides his thumb between his shaft and Viktor sex, circling his hole but not yet dipping in while his fingers curl into the flesh of his ass. Whatever Viktor had made his different attachments out of, they were always delightfully reactive, spitting out cum and lube at any feathertouch, and right now he could feel Viktor dripping onto him, “You must have been thinking about this all week, to be so worked up. Let Daddy reward you, baby.”
“Fuck off,” Viktor hisses back, canting his hips to take whatever pleasure he could from Jayce’s shaft. His tail, which had begun whipping in its own frustration, now followed his command, sliding to the right side of Jayce's body, curling around his leg and beginning to tease under the loosened waistband of his trousers.
Viktor couldn’t guarantee Jayce had prepped, but he was certain enough teasing pleasure on Jayce’s rim would be enough to see his mask crack, to let Vikor begin to struggle back power in their dynamic.
It had been a long time since they’d had a chance to play with roles, fitting into their preferred actions so easily.
He’d forgotten how fun it could be to let Jayce dominate.
Jayce let the tail move for a moment or two longer, keeping his focus on the tease of his cock against Viktor, but when it tried to drag itself further down, Jayce grabbed the midsection and pulled like a loose string, unthreading it from its mission.
He holds it for a moment or two longer, considering, “I had wondered why you put silicone on it. Was that your idea, huh? To try and tease me into fucking you? Clearly, someone isn’t in the mood to be a very good kitty, are they, V?”
Jayce slides away before Viktor can react, unable to tighten the clasp of his thighs before Jayce is gone entirely.
And for a moment, it’s uncomfortable. Suspended in that moment before subspace, Jayce’s absence was immediate, all pleasure and warmth ripped from every sharp point of his body.
“...Jayce?” Viktor lowers his body flat to the bed, no longer propped up by the hips and thighs beneath him.
“I’m here, V,” Jayce’s hand is on Viktor’s arm, grounding him. He’s reaching into their bedside cabinet, lube already put to one side of the bed, while his spare hand keeps digging in the clutter, “You’re doing so well. I’m just looking for gloves, and then I’ll be right there. I don’t know how they get so fuckin buried…”
Gloves? Viktor pushes himself up to his elbows, eyeing the drawer for further insight, finding none. Jayce pulls a latex glove out from their box, pulling away a small collection of things he’d drawn out with a shoved handful. He chucked the rest of the clutter down besides the bed, next to where he had been standing, and then turned to Viktor.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry, Cm’ere,” Jayce looks at Viktor’s ears, laying flat down against his volition, looking at the way he’s biting his lip and refusing to take his gaze from Jayce. The defender climbs over the blankets to him, his mission momentarily forgotten, wrapping around Viktor and letting his weight crowd him. He’s still mostly clothed, only his hard cock exposed from his armour, but it’s comfort and pressure, sinking into Viktor’s body, “Take a sec?”
“Mm,” Viktor turned underneath Jayce to move to his side, squeezing out from underneath so they could face each other, “Hello, Jayce.”
“Hey, V.”
“You’re enjoying yourself?” Viktor allowed Jayce to move him closer, but didn’t move his head back when they shuffled, electing instead to pull Jayce’s to him, pressing forehead to forehead. The ears of the mask clinked as he did.
“So long as you are then… yeah. You look real fuckin’ good with the tail,” Jayce let one hand cup Viktor’s cheek while the other slid down his back, curling around the base to hold it, gently, “How’re you feeling?”
“It’s… a lot. I forgot the vulnerability that comes with such a position. It must take a lot for you, to do so as frequently.”
“It’s hardly a noble sacrifice, I love it when you’re in charge,” Jayce laughs it off, but leans forward to kiss Viktor gently regardless, a mix of appreciation and acknowledgement of the praise, “Do you want me to run and grab your meds?”
They’ve found that Jayce was far more amenable to Viktor’s suppressants if they rebranded them to medication. Weekly arguments on the benefits of augments and neuronblockers became quiet acceptance, became Jayce tracking Viktor’s doses for him, grabbing them on bad days, stocking up supplies to make more when their reserves ran low.
Became this. Gently checking in. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Viktor remembers that they’d once been enemies, and almost laughs.
“...Not for now. Before bed, though,” Viktor leans forward, kissing Jayce so tenderly, a distinct oxymoron to the violence of their bodies normally. Jayce reciprocates easily, forgoing his own erection to curl his hand up Viktor’s bicep until he could rest on his shoulder, sweetly. When Viktor pulled away, there was a swirling between arousal and affection looking back at him, “How was your week?”
Jayce’s smile is soft, the soft rise of his cheeks, the gap in his teeth. Viktor wants to fuck him senseless. He wants to hold him in this bed forever, somewhere separated from the politics of the outside world, in the synonym of safe.
“It was good,” Jayce says, “Had this stupid conference in the middle of the week, because my partner stole from a sex shop. Think it might be worth the hassle, though.”
“Might be? Are you not entertained, Jayce?”
“For sure is. One hundred percent worth it.”
He leans forward, kissing Viktor’s chin, the vents down his neck, his collar. Teeth scrape at the sharpest points, where metal meets flesh, where bone protrudes through thinner skin. Viktor tugs, rolling them so he can lie on his back, and Jayce follows easily, putting his hands either side of Viktor’s head, staring down at him.
“You’re gorgeous,” Jayce doesn’t even seem to realise he’s said it, looking between Viktor’s mouth, then back up, a pendulum between Viktor’s eyes as he takes them both in. There’s a wetness to Jayce’s plush lips, a hitch in his breath, and Viktor responds in kind, parting his legs to Jayce can reposition to sit in between.
“Even if I’m a bad kisa?” Viktor’s hands grip into the leather of the armour on Jayce’s stomach, finding the latches and hooking into them to pull him closer. Jayce ends up with his knees pressed against Viktor’s ass, his legs back to being wrapped around his waist.
“Ignore what I said earlier, I’m an idiot.”
“You are by far and large the smartest man I know.”
Jayce splits into a grin, “Sycophant.”
His hands are back to exploring Viktor’s body. One roams up and pinches lightly at the nipple it finds, while the other reaches down, digging into a hold at Viktor’s hip for a moment before it seems to remember their entire ploy, and slips off the skin in search for Viktor’s new tail. When he finds it, he cups it gently, raising it to his mouth to give a kiss against the top of the silicone. A healthy dusting of pink rises on Viktor’s face, the tease of pleasure on his new appendage already eliciting a response.
Jayce’s mouth doesn’t stop kissing along the tip, but he does let his eyes drift, cataloging the changes in Viktor’s expression. When he’s satisfied with the implication, he brings the blunt end directly before him, and parts his lips, lolling his tongue out to curl along the base of the tail. Slowly, painfully sensually, Jayce takes him past his teeth, sinking the material down, nearing his throat. Viktor hisses against the sensation, writhes as an unfamiliar heat encases him, curling up the metal straight into his brain until he’s whining under every unremitting touch.
Jayce doesn’t stop at once. Now he has him there, his free hand is used to push at Viktor’s chest, keeping him from raising and claiming Jayce’s mouth away from it’s current task. The other does nothing but guide the tail in and out, threading it into a neat line to push into the plush warmth of his mouth.
“Jayce, please,” Viktor tries to move his hips, to find any further pleasure, but Jayce is too content teasing, watching Viktor in his grasp. He knows what Jayce wants, a sign of submission, the admittance that Viktor wants this just as badly as Jayce does. Jayce delivers a strong lick up the bottom of the tail and Viktor shudders under the touch. There is a deep, writing embarrassment, that is wrestling with his arousal, and losing every second longer that Jayce is touching him.
“You can do it, Viktor,” Jayce rubs his face against the prosthetic. It catches wet against his mouth, smears spit over his cheek. His gaze doesn’t break from Viktor’s face, even as he debauches himself against it, “I know you can be good for me. Right, kisa? You’re such a pretty kitty, don’t you want to be good, too?”
“Fuck,” Viktor’s teeth are gritted. He clenches and unclenches his hands, before levelling Jayce with a look, nodding, “Mrow?”
It’s so quiet, it barely constitutes Jayce’s reaction, collapsing down onto him with thunderous praise, “So good. You’re so fucking good, you did so well. You want a reward now, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” He manages to ask between Jayce’s kisses, lavishing over him. Jayce was grabbing at his waist, now, but his cock had returned to it’s previous movements, teasing at his body through the lace of his boxers. Viktor gasps when it catches his clit, the ears on his head rattling to stand to attention, flicking for attention.
Jayce reaches into the pile that he had accrued earlier, two pieces between his fingers. He’s already slipped a glove on his right hand, and is using the first item of a slender bottle of lube to soak his two forefingers. The other, caught by his thumb, is a cock ring, a gaudy, red instrument they hardly ever used. Viktor preferred in general to control his own orgasms, having synthesized his body to find the exact amount of pleasure needed.
“Jayce I-”
“I know, it’s not for you, don’t worry,” Jayce gives him a lopsided smile, pausing his work on his hands to awkwardly try and wrangle it over his own erection. When Viktor’s confusion is evident, Jayce blushes back, “You look so fucking good, V. I don’t wanna, y’know. Blow my load too early over it.”
Oh.
Viktor can’t help but grin at the admittance, easing himself, a new comfort arising. Knowing that was the effect he was having on Jayce, that his own neediness was being reciprocated and resonating back, the infinite feedback loop of god I want you right now, set everything alight. He reached for Jayce anew, his tail whacking against the bed in impatience.
“Please fuck me,” Viktor threads his pleading into his voice, raising his hips, pulling at the leather he had in his grip, “You always feel so good inside me. Make me feel good. Make me come on your cock, Defender.”
Jayce moans in earnest, crowding Viktor’s space, grabbing at the boxers keeping Viktor’s pussy from him, “These expensive?”
Viktor shakes his head, and no sooner, Jayce fists into the fabric and rips into it, freeing Viktor’s holes and allowing Jayce to curl his cock back over his body. Jayce’s forehead is already tacky with sweat, need and the heat of his armour building on his brow when he tips his head forward, kissing down Viktor’s torso while his touch resumes by Viktor’s cunt.
The gloved hand slips further beyond, however, dipping down towards Viktor’s ass, ghosting along his entrance there.Viktor winces at the cold lube against the ring of muscle, his mouth falling open, but Jayce is lavishing his nipple again before he can ask, stealing his breath.
“Don’t worry, kitten,” Jayce murmurs into the skin, flicking his tongue out against the nub beneath, “Daddy’s got you. Couldn’t resist that perfect fucking pussy if I tried, baby. Just trust me.”
Now those were words that had Viktor truly submissing. Trust is a currency hard-won - Viktor was not in the business of handing it out easily. And yet, now, in this kit that he built entirely for Jayce’s pleasure, he is nothing but willing to give, to see what Jayce will do if he lets him take.
As such, Viktor allows a bonelessness to creep in, spreading his legs further apart now, releasing Jayce from the cage of his thighs to give him the easiest access to move. Jayce responds by pressing a finger inside Viktor, and as the pleasure curls up Viktor’s spine, he’s unsure if this is a punishment or a reward.
“Good kitty, you’re okay. Just gotta get you ready, yeah?”
Jayce has pulled to sit back up. There are a few smears on his clothes now - the front of his trousers have a few wet splotches from where his hips had been pressed up against Viktor, soaking in his precum. The front mantel of his armour piece had a sheen of spit that Jayce had been lavishing on Viktor, returned now and rubbed against his own torso.
The thin veneer of Piltovers wares, coated in the sex between them.
The fingers inside Viktor become two, carefully scissoring open the tight entrance. Viktor whimpers when he presses deeper, and Jayce closes the gap between them, kissing away the discomfort. His nose bumps against the top of the mask, but he doesn’t even think to push it off, enjoying the kitty motif too thoroughly.
“Gonna make you fucking purr, V,” Jayce says into his mouth, hot breath melting between them. Viktor does nothing but nod at the appraisal, gripping his fingers into the neat top of Jayce’s hair now instead.
Once he’s been sufficiently opened, Jayce pulls out, unfurling the glove from his wrist and tossing it somewhere into the aether of the bedroom. The now exposed skin of his hand traces a few, placating touches to Viktor’s cunt, pressing between the lips to stroke slick up onto his clit, bathing in the wetness that has spurted out.
“How much control do you have?” Jayce lifts Viktor’s tail up as he asks, admiring the work.
“Similair to the Hexclaw, there are some, eh, subconscious movements,” The end twitches as he says it, as if in evidence, “But I can control it to a finer degree than just… swishing.”
Jayce grins at the information, taking the end back into his hold, not dissimilar to earlier. Instead of lifting it all the way to his mouth, this time it’s carded under Viktor’s thigh, positioned by his mouth only for a second so he can spit onto the end of the attachment. Carefully, using his free hand, Jayce grabs one of Viktor’s ass cheeks, pulling it to show the stretch of his hole before lining up the end of the tail to it.
“You ready, baby?”
Viktor steadies his breathing. He can feel his own fucking hole against the prosthetic, “Yes. Gods Janna above yes.”
Jayce hums in approval, then begins to press, pushing the tip in slowly. Viktor curls backwards, rising in an arch into the pleasure, and Jayce lifts to meet him, his cock positioned back to Viktor’s cunt.
“You’re so darling,” Jayce reaches up to pet Viktor, first on the harsh metal plating holding his ears, then further back, ruffling his hair and scratching blunt nails against his scalp. Distantly, Viktor realises he’s targeting the space behind his ears, the same way one might appease a housecat.
The hand guiding the tail releases, having set the pace for Viktor to follow. Viktor can feel his own walls moving to greet him, carving the space inside his body, and it’s so fucking good, a perpetual motion machine of endless pleasure. Jayce’s cock catches at the rim of his cunt, and Viktor whines, pressing down to meet both intrusions at once.
“Wanna give me one more, kisa?”
Viktor laughs, short, sharp, affectionate. It jumps in his stomach, “I’ll be your good little kitten.”
Their eyes meet. Jayce is biting his lip, good natured even if he’s clearly losing his mind to the arousal pooling within him. Viktor pushes himself back up onto his elbows and rumbles out one singular, louder meow.
Jayce’s cock breaches him instantly. The noise loose in his mouth morphs into a moan, everything contouring with indulgence. Everything feels so good and full and satiated, layering want on want. His body is pliant to Jayce, fucking welcoming him in, and Jayce is pushed in to the hilt almost immediately.
“Oh god,” Jayce’s hand has found the headboard of the bed, white knuckling against the metal slats, “I can… I can fucking feel it, V. Your tail in there.”
Everything pushed together, rubbing in Viktors internals, tightening the space until everything collides on the first thrust.
Jayce looks ready to topple over. Viktor is desperately clawing at the armour, one hand curled up Jayce’s back and gripping onto the pouldarn on his arm for dear fucking life, the other in a loop at his belt, trying to yank him forward with whatever the loose fabric will allow. Viktor mewls beneath the next thrust, harder and so impossibly deeper than before, the tail moving in tandem to Jayce’s cock as if they were both obeying the same will.
Viktor’s arousal is coating the blue fabric of Jayce’s jeans, lube, spit and cum darkening the front section. He wants them to be ruined when they’re done.
“Look at you,” Jayce groans out, eyes roaming freely over Viktor’s body. With now just the remnants of lace at his hips, it’s only the metal work remaining. The cat ears are pulled back, receptors for plain and pleasure wired so close together that it can’t distinguish between the waves of arousal and brutality.
And maybe that’s what this is, because a moment after he speaks, Jayce begins fucking into him in earnest, every devistating thrust bouncing him in his hold.
“Fuck, Jayce,” Viktor’s toes curl. His heels are digging into the bed, giving him barely the leverage needed to meet each burst of movement, bouncing back on both instruments pressed inside him, “More, mne nravitsya kogda ti trogaesh menya tam, Defender, so good.”
“I wasn’t kidding, V,” Jayce groans into his own extended arm, burying his face into the cruel press of gold, “I’m gonna make you purr. Gonna show you how fucking good you are for me.”
The sounds are obscene, the wet slap of hip that would be muffled by fabric fulfilled instead by the metal work of the prosthetic tail, rattling on each movement. While his left hand is still keeping him upright against the bedframe, Jayce lets the over slide between them, his thumb setting a brutal pace against Viktor’s twitching clit.
A high pitch sound like a wounded animal fills the space between them. Viktor takes a few more seconds to realise it was him.
“Jayce - it’s too much. I can’t - can’t hold on if you-”
Jayce cranes his neck down, barely offering a kiss over the touch of his wet, open mouth snagging Viktor’s skin, “Be a good kitty, cum for me. Gods, cum on daddy’s fucking cock.”
Viktor's legs clamp shut, trying to capture Jayce in his grasp. Barely a few harsh thrusts and his orgasm is shooting through him. Viktor throws his head to the side, twisting so he could bite into the pillow below while Jayce lavishes the side of his neck with desperate attention.
The cock ring seemed to be doing it’s job, because while Jayce’s pace stutters, and he moans openly, there’s nothing following but more clawing desperation. Viktor bats Jayce’s hand away from his cunt, the stimulation tipping past the point of an orgasm into pure sensation, the pain of overstimulation cresting. Tears are gathering in the corners of his eyes, obscured by his face mask, while the ears clink in confusion on the crown of his head, frantically trying to read the overload of signals each fired synapse gives off.
And, most humiliating of all, as the cock and tail continue in perfect sync, his chest gives way to low, mechanical whirring, no louder than his moans and gasps, but audible none the less.
Jayce hears it immediately. His head falls from Viktor’s neck onto his chest, pressing towards the noise, offering nothing but praise in response. His cock must be painfully hard now, in the tight coil of Viktor’s pussy, clenching down on him in the wake of cumming once.
“Want you to cum in me, Jayce,” Viktor is trying to move back on him, aching to take more, to finish Jayce himself. The man hovering above him looks ruined, his hair slick with sweat against his forehead, his mouth hung loose to let each moan out. His eyes are heavy-lidded under his furrowed brows, unsure if they should be focusing on Viktor’s face, or the space in which they connect, looking loosely between both points.
“I’mmgonna,” Jayce drawls out, the fineries of language far beyond him now, “You don’t know how this feels, V. Feel like I’m, god, ah, splitting you open. Need to cum, need to fucking claim your pussy.”
Viktor’s purring increased, a loud rumble greeting every word Jayce said. The rhythm of the silicone in his body was faltering, unable to keep the pace anymore with the throws of pleasure Viktor fought through for control.
“Everything you make, it’s, mh, so beautiful,” Jayce traces the edge of the mask with his thumb. “Can’t believe you’d do this for me. I’m so lucky, so, V, god, so lucky.”
Everything is spilling out of Jayce now. The sensitivity of the cock ring pricks his own eyes with tears, driving him into the same overstimulated mess that Viktor had dove into being minutes before. His body is trembling, partly from the core strength it has taken to hold himself up and thrust forward with any discernable rhythm, mostly because everything is alight with need for the man he was currently fucking buried in.
And the emotions of it all, too.
Viktor didn’t suppose either of them were very lucky, in truth.
Right now, as he’s filled beyond the brim, that doesn’t matter.
All that he needs now is for Jayce to lose himself in him.
Jayce presses up in a particularly harsh thrust and Viktor knows he’s teetering on the knife's edge of another orgasm, building in quick succession. He claws at the shaved hairs on Jayce’s neck, begging him to act now.
There was no more pretense. Viktor curls his hand like a paw by his forehead, a move that belongs far more in some ridiculous porn parody than by him, and offers a God honest attempt at a mewl.
It must have sounded horrific.
It must have been the best thing Jayce has ever heard, because he loses his own rhythm almost immediately, cock pulsing inside Viktor as he is finally, finally thrown over the edge. Jayce drops to Viktor’s shoulder and bites hard, hissing as his cum splatters inside Viktor’s pussy, feeling it tighten around him, trying not to spill any of his spend.
With the flood of warmth filling him, Viktor is lost, tossing his head back as a second orgasm rocks through him. Hot liquid spills from his body as he fucking squirts in response, splashing down the front of Jayce’s armour, seeping into the already darkened fabric of his uniform trousers and the few lacey pieces of string still clinging onto Viktor’s thighs.
“Fuck, V,” Jayce is panting into his bare chest, “You’re amazing. You’re fucking gorgeous. Gods.”
Viktor’s legs are shaking. His breath labours under the other man’s weight. He’s never felt better.
“You were adequate,” Viktor drawls out, but the modulation doesn’t cover the whine in his voice or the way it trembles as it comes out. Jayce rolls his eyes, pressed back up to carefully pull out.
The clean up is reluctant and unpleasant. Jayce helps pull the tail out of where Viktor’s body had tensed around it, easing it from his hole, then having Viktor lie on his front so Jayce could unlatch it from the back port. When he goes to stand, it’s far too arrogant after the string of pleasure they’d faced, and Jayce falls onto the carpet, his legs boneless beneath him.
“Clearly, a strategy I should deploy in our next fight,” Viktor laughs to Jayce’s back as he wipes the tip down. He has a toy spray to hand now to rinse it, at least enough that he can guiltlessly put it aside for an actual clean in the morning, “If this is how weakened you become.”
“Sure. I can’t wait to see the next headlines if you’re wearing cat ears into a fight,” Jayce returns to sit at the edge of the bed, taking a damp, warm towel, and mopping gently at the inside of Viktor’s thighs. Once he’s satisfied enough with the work, he uses both hands to slide the mask off Viktor’s face, carefully. There’s a redness to his eyes from the stimulation, and Jayce covets an unshed tear with his thumb, carefully. He holds the mask up in front of his face, not even trying to slide it over with how form-fitted it was to Viktor’s head, “What do you think, V?”
“Ridiculous. You would clearly need dog ears, should you be in my position.”
Jayce snorts, setting the mask on the nightstand, “Next time, yeah?”