Archive of Our Own

As it turns out, turning himself into a machine didn’t solve Viktor’s main problem — having emotions. Despite being physically mostly metal, he’s still very much in love and very much in pain about it. To be quite honest, it kind of feels like a rip off. 

Singed kind of sold this whole thing to him as some sort of big sacrifice where he’d be forgoing his humanity and his ability to love and feel for his dream of progress and evolution. At first, Viktor was kind of relieved — because having unrequited feelings for your extremely attractive and extremely heterosexual best friend was the worst kind of hell imaginable. He’s not even exaggerating — and this is coming from someone who inhaled so much swamp gas as a child, he needed to replace his own lungs with metal to avoid dying.

Viktor’s had enough time to get used to the uncertainty that is lifespans, deteriorating health, etc. By comparison, he’s had very little time to acclimate to the strain of watching his own best friend and partner gradually pull away from their shared dream like the slowest ripping of a bandaid imaginable. He’s tried making his peace with Jayce never loving him back in that way — but it’s been infinitesimally harder to acclimate to the fact that their once shared vision of the future might not be shared any longer. 

So yes, choosing mechanical body parts over his own flesh and blood ones and choosing to feel nothing rather than everything seems like a logical direction to move in. It had the pleasant side effect of making him able to walk and move and do things much easier than before — which is nice, but Viktor’s disability had never been the first thing he wanted to “fix”. Not until he started dying, at least. Because if he died, no one would be around to help the people of Zaun in the very specific way he knew he could. Not dying, however, would mean needing to solve the issue of tortured sleepless nights agonizing over his now former best friend. 

It had started with his leg. Then his hand, then his arms. Then his other leg, and back, and torso and neck. He figured out a way to operate on himself and changed his lungs, his bowel, his liver and even his heart. It was difficult, arduous, and often downright disgusting — but Viktor didn’t care. In fact, he took his not caring as a sign things were going right. 

A sign that maybe, there would be other things he’d stop caring about. 

It was at this point that he got banned from the Academy, and that his friendship with Jayce deteriorated into almost nothing. All for suggesting that perhaps, human emotions were in fact  dangerous things that necessitate control in certain situations. And for demonstrating a way to do it. That same day, Jayce had come to his room to say goodbye and caught him without his shirt on. No one aside from Singed had known what he was doing to himself until that point. They knew he was doing something — he’d obviously become much more able-bodied and looked less like he was dying, but a lot of folks chose not to question it. 

Jayce had stared, not at his face, but at his torso and arms for a good long minute without saying a word. “What have you been doing?” he whispered after. “Who are you?” he’d added for good measure. What a drama queen.

 After finally looking at Viktor eye to eye, he uttered his most heartbreaking words yet. 

“The man I knew would have never suggested what you did back there.”

Viktor scrunched up his face, determined not to let anything show. 

“You must not have known that man well at all.”

After settling into his new laboratory in Zaun, away from Piltover’s prying eyes, he gave himself the arm next. He attached it to the place that used to house his human spine. It could be retracted so he could sleep comfortably, though he often didn’t bother. He looked more intimidating, more inhuman this way. On the streets, people started offering him a wide berth and averting their eyes. Thankfully, Zaun was always full of freakshows, so it’s not like he didn’t fit in.

It didn’t take long for him to make a name for himself after he started offering mods to anyone interested. The Machine Herald, disgraced Academy scientist, co-founder of Hextech, now working in a dingy basement laboratory doing things that would horrify the upstanding citizens he used to work with. 

His reputation didn't really bother him. He was quite proud of it, in fact. He'd always felt like too much of a Zaunite for Piltover, too different for civil society, and now, too monstrous for the Academy. 

And so, here they are. 

Here , being his lab, everything in complete disarray. Bodies strewn about, his notes on the ground, a crushed crystal at the centre of it all, and Jayce, his best friend and partner turned whatever the fuck they are now, at the center of it looking equally enraged and disgusted. He had barged in and accused Viktor of many things — not having a heart, not being a person anymore, destroying lives and destroying himself. He started fighting, and Viktor tried his damndest to subdue him and not let him kill the people he had been trying to save. And it didn't work. 

So yes, Viktor would give anything to feel nothing right now. But alas, the universe isn’t so kind. He's heartbroken, insulted, and more angry than he’s ever been in his life. 

He's grateful for the mask — it helped him maintain the facade of being the soulless, uncaring monster the Piltovians had made him out to be. It was insulting at first to hear of such things being said about him, until he realized it would be a kind of safeguard against being fucked with. 

It won't stop Jayce, though. Nothing ever does. The bastard. 

“You’re a monster,” Jayce grits out, deliberately averting his eyes from the carnage on the ground. 

“You killed them,” Viktor says plainly, trying and apparently succeeding at not letting himself shake with rage. “The crystal was their life support. They were all alive before you walked in here.”

Jayce doesn’t say anything. His brow twitches, eyes defiant.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. Get out of my fucking laboratory.”

He punctuates his sentence with the whirring of his mechanical arm for good measure. It’s not like he’d actually use it to kill Jayce at this point — there isn’t anything left to lose. It’s mostly to make him go away.

But honestly, after the fight they had, he doesn't think it will actually work. 

In only a moment, Jayce turns and leaves. And Viktor is all alone. Once he's sure of it, he sinks and breaks down. 

. . .

Feeling nothing would be infinitely better than feeling simultaneous hatred, grief, and love. Jayce is an irrational idiot.  He's reckless, hot-headed, self-righteous and egotistical. But he's also the only other person in the world as hell-bent on making the world “better” as Viktor himself — the obvious difference being what it took to get to “better.” He doesn’t understand a lick of what Viktor's doing — they stopped actually communicating ages ago. A small voice in the back of Viktor’s mind often points out that maybe if he had tried harder to communicate, maybe if he had given Jayce a chance to listen, none of this would have happened. 

Viktor dismisses it, every time. You’ve already tried, and they never listen. HE would never listen .

He used to listen, though. When they were partners. 

It’s the grief over what was that occupies his mind as he painstakingly pieces his laboratory back together. How could someone who once shared his dream be so short-sighted? How did they get here? Jayce loved him once — not like that , but in a platonic sense. In a friendly, familiar, caring, and compassionate sense. It feels as if no part of him does anymore.

. . .

There’s a letter under his door one day, months after the “incident.” It’s written on formal stationary, sporting Jayce Talis’ personal seal. Viktor has half a mind to incinerate it and forget. 

He doesn’t, though. He opens it, reluctantly, and reads it over three times.

Viktor,

You were right. I’m so sorry.

I’d like to speak in person, if you’re willing. Meet me on the bridge tomorrow at dusk.

Jayce

. . .

“Councillor Talis,” Viktor greets through his voice modulator. Though fully clad in his armor and mask, he brought no weapons (save the one attached to his body). Jayce is leaning on the railing, dressed in a hood and cloak, evidently attempting to conceal his identity from passers-by. It’s obviously him, though. There’s no mistaking that face, that build. Viktor could recognize him from a mile away.

Jayce looks over at him and visibly shudders. He’s still not used to me like this, Viktor thinks. Good .

“Machine Herald,” he replies, in a tone of mock formality to match Viktor’s. 

In joining him, Viktor realizes they’re standing closer to one another than they have in a very long time. Though they were technically nearly the same height, Jayce used to tower over him when he was at his most ill — now, Viktor’s slightly taller. He’d never noticed it before. 

It seems that Jayce hadn’t either. He looks up to meet Viktor’s gaze, visibly uncomfortable. It’s a little painful. Though everything about the body and armor he’d created for himself is having the exact effect he intended, it hurts coming from Jayce — someone who used to look at him with affection and care.

Viktor nods, and doesn’t say anything. He wasn’t the one who asked for this meeting, after all. 

They wait in awkward, uncomfortable silence for a moment, Jayce averting his eyes to look over the water. After what feels like a year, he sighs, his face falling. 

“I realized there was no way you were lying. About… about the people. The people I killed.”

“How so?”

“You’re a terrible liar. You’ve always been.”

Viktor scoffs, rolling his eyes. He thinks again, for a beat, trying to organize his admittedly chaotic thoughts. “Excuse me?”

To his surprise, Jayce smiles. It’s small, and he’s directing it down to the water rather than Viktor himself. “We used to get into so much trouble — you’d lie to get us out of it, and it never worked.” He laughs lightly, to Viktor’s complete surprise. “That time Mel caught us sneaking into Heimedinger’s lab and you pretended we were trying to find your bedroom?”

Viktor stiffens, feeling heat rise to his face. 

“You’re too sincere.” Jayce sighs, still avoiding looking directly at Viktor. “If you’d been lying, I’d have been able to tell. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

They sit with that for a moment, both gazing out at the water. Viktor’s mind is running a mile a minute, completely unsure of how to proceed. The Jayce in his mind would have been too arrogant to concede, too self-righteous to admit he was the one who had severely fucked up. And yet — 

“You weren’t lying, right?” Jayce asks suddenly. When Viktor looks at him, his face is pained. “Tell me I’m not wrong.”

“I was not,” Viktor replies, easy. “I would never lie to you.”

It sounds too affectionate, even through his voice modulator. Viktor cringes slightly at that, wondering how his facade could be breaking so easily. A part of him knew they might be coming here to make peace, but he was still angry, still hurt. 

“I’m sorry,” Jayce continues after a moment. He looks like he’s straining slightly, trying to parse out his words carefully. “Not just about the people, though I’m really, really upset at myself over… that. I’m sorry for not trusting you. I’d like to think that if you’d told me what you needed the crystal for, I wouldn’t have come barging in like — I just, I don’t know if that’s true. I just didn’t trust you anymore, and I can’t explain why.”

He doesn’t look like he’s done. Viktor stays taut as a bowstring, overly conscious of his own breathing. He grits his teeth together, hands tensing on the railing.

“How long had you been changing your body without telling me?”

Viktor grimaces, pained. He hates the implication of that question — as if Jayce had any right to know. 

“We used to share everything. I thought — I thought I knew everything about you. I thought —”

“I thought I would tell you about it, but… we’d been drifting apart. I was afraid you wouldn’t approve. I was right, evidently.”

Viktor kind of hates himself for engaging. He can’t stop, though. 

“I knew I might be hated for choosing this path,” he continues, slow and steady, still not looking at Jayce. Looking might make it too hard. “I just… couldn’t stand the idea of you hating me for it.”

You hated me anyway. It broke my heart. 

The silence is near-deafening. When Viktor finally cracks and glances at Jayce, he looks broken — eyes singed with red, exhausted. Viktor suspects he wouldn’t look much better right now, if Jayce were able to tell. He’s still not sure where this is going, and he’s not sure he wants to know. A faint glimmer of something akin to hope is rising in his chest, though he’s quick to snuff it out. Expecting anything good to come might be a recipe for disappointment. 

“I was afraid— ” Jayce starts. He sounds ragged, a little choked. “I was afraid of… change. I felt us growing apart and… I was worried I didn’t know you anymore.”

It sounds oddly familiar, like things Viktor has said to himself a thousand times over. 

“People change, Jayce.” He notices his old friend wince at the sound of his name. Perhaps it’s the first time in a long time he’s addressed him by his first name — maybe the first time using this voice. “We’ve all changed, but… we don’t morph into completely different people.”

“Sure,” Jayce scoffs. He’s smiling a little, albeit sadly. “It’s just… it’s weird. You can be close with someone one minute, and suddenly you don’t recognize them.” He sighs, looking at his hands against the rail. “I’m having a hard time remembering that you’re… you. Everything about you is different. I look at you, and…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. It’s as if the words die out on his tongue. Viktor wracks his brain for something to say.

“I’ll admit, this whole ‘look’ is a little much,” is what he settles on, for some reason. He cringes internally for a moment, worried that now isn’t the time to make light of things. The worrying is cut short, though — Jayce is nearly doubled over before he knows it. It's enough to break the tension. 

“Pffftt,” Jayce wheezes, his hand on his face. “‘A little much?’ You look like the fucking grim reaper!”

To his own surprise, Viktor starts laughing too. 

“Dear God, and your laugh!” Jayce continues. “You sound so evil! I don’t even know if that’s your real voice —”

“It’s not my real voice."

Jayce takes a breath, steadying himself. He’s still grinning. “Oh?”

“My voice… it’s not different It’s the mask —”

Jayce raises an eyebrow. “That’s… a mask?”

Viktor just stares at him now, flabbergasted. Had he thought… he’d thought this was all just how he was now? That’s…

“What? You thought I’d changed my —”

“You changed your body, so —”

“I didn’t change my face. It’s… different, now, a little. But I still look like myself. Mostly.”

It’s odd, talking about his modifications with another person. He’s feeling himself slowly slipping into familiar territory. It’s starting to feel easy, being together. It’s strange. 

But not unwelcome. 

“What have you changed?”  Jayce asks, soft. There isn’t a hint of malice in his voice, this time. Just intrigue. “If you don’t mind me asking?

Viktor considers for a second, enumerating the changes in his head. He decides that no, he doesn’t mind being asked. In fact, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s being treated like a person. And to his surprise, he doesn’t mind at all. 

“My arms and torso, as you know. My legs too. I changed my lungs, liver, my bowel, and my heart. And my inner ears.”

Jayce looks concerned. Viktor doesn’t blame him, honestly.

“... Your heart?”

He sounds so dramatic. Viktor chuckles a little at that. 

“Yes, my heart. It’s just a muscle that pumps blood, there’s nothing more to it. I know you’ve probably heard that I’m a completely unfeeling piece of metal, but those are just rumours. I still feel everything — just as I did before.”

It’s a heavy admission, in all honesty. He’s been comfortable letting the rumours spread. He wanted them to be true, after all. The facade is crumbling, though. Naturally, Jayce somehow has a way of getting him to open up — even after everything. 

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Jayce is staring at him now, almost transfixed. He looks equally shocked and remorseful. Viktor can’t help but return his gaze. They don’t flinch, don’t make any moves to look away. It doesn’t feel awkward anymore. Though it definitely feels strange. 

“Why me?” Jayce asks after a while. 

“We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

He feels absurd saying it, but it feels true. For him, at least. 

“Yeah,” Jayce nods. His gaze is warm — warmer than anyone who’s looked at Viktor since he changed himself. It feels terrifying. He could get used to it. 

The sun has almost completely set. It feels like a natural place to end the conversation — maybe part ways on a more positive note and proceed with their entirely separate lives. But Viktor can’t help but feel like it would be premature. There is more left unsaid, he reasons with himself. There is still more ground to cover, perhaps more to learn about their new selves.

“Would you like to come over for some tea?”

Jayce startles at that, evidently surprised. It’s not the first time Viktor has done this — tea breaks were somewhat of a routine between them back when they were partners. If they ever felt stuck on a problem, or fresh out of ideas, Viktor would suggest returning to his quarters for some black tea spiked with Zaunian whiskey. 

After a beat, Jayce chuckles in disbelief. “I’m sorry, did the Machine Herald just ask me over for a tea break?”

Viktor smiles, despite Jayce not being able to see it. “Indeed. I believe he just did”

. . . 

They end up back at his home, above the laboratory. Jayce looks like he doesn't know what to do, or more specifically, where to sit. Viktor doesn't help him figure it out, too entertained at the sight of the 'Man of Progress' himself completely out of his element. 

He sets a kettle on the stove and excuses himself to his room for a moment. Once alone, he strips off his armor in favour of some regular slacks and a dark button-down shirt. His mechanical arm is still visible, most of his clothing tailored to accommodate it  — he doesn’t feel much of a need to retract it, right now. Before returning to the living room, however, he decides to remove his mask. Looking at himself in the mirror, he studies himself, trying to see what parts Jayce would recognize, and what parts might still seem foreign. His neck and most of the left side of his face are paneled with metal parts, though only the edges — most of his chin and cheeks are still visible. Some mauvish discoloration bleeds out from the edges of the metal onto his skin, a by-product of using the hex crystal for his augmentations. His eyes, though still golden, look a little brighter than they used to against his black sclera. Otherwise, though, his face still looks kind of human. Almost.

At least he looks a lot less like he's dying. That's a plus.

He takes a breath, working up the courage to face Jayce again. 

When he finally returns, Jayce is taking the kettle off the stove. He’s smiling to himself, busied with grabbing a couple mugs from the dish rack. “I was wondering if you still had any of that Zaunian stuff we used to add, I remember —”

His words are cut off when he looks at Viktor enter the room. He freezes, eyes widening slightly. Viktor feels incredibly seen. It’s uncomfortable — he’s removed his mask to eat or drink while out before, but he’s never felt quite so examined . He continues walking, pretending nothing is amiss and grabs the whiskey out of his liquor cabinet. Jayce’s eyes follow him, burning into his skull as he moves. He can almost feel it. 

“I do still have the Zaunian stuff ,” he says, trying not to think about the fact that Jayce hasn’t heard his actual voice since the day he left the academy. It may only be a couple years, but it feels like a lifetime ago. He grabs some tea bags and a pot, keeping his hands busy while waiting for Jayce to come to his senses. 

He looks at his old friend, finally, too curious to resist. Jayce is still staring at him, his expression unreadable. His eyes scan Viktor’s face, searching.

“Viktor?”

“Yes… yes, that’s me. Though you can still call me ‘Machine Herald’ if my other name makes you too uncomfortable.”

He’s joking, obviously. He hopes it’s obvious. 

Jayce shakes his head, still evidently in shock. His lip quirks. 

“You’re… you’re the same.”

“Enhhh, I wouldn’t say I’m the same, exactly. I have a metal heart now."

Viktor pours a finger of whiskey in each of their mugs. He pauses — Fuck it — and takes a swig from the bottle, offering it to Jayce immediately after. 

He's met with a laugh and a shake of the head. Jayce accepts the bottle and takes a swig of his own, still eyeing Viktor in apparent disbelief. 

"I'm not the same ," Viktor replies, belatedly. Because it's true — he's definitely not. It's not like the past couple years just didn't happen. 

Jayce might not be listening, though. He's moving, seemingly unconsciously, closer to Viktor to study his face. It's almost invasive, but he humours him. He understands scientific curiosity, in a sense, and wouldn't begrudge Jayce for it in a moment like this. 

"Your eyes — they changed."

"A side effect of the enhancements. They darkened the more I augmented."

Jayce considers this, meeting his gaze head-on. It feels strangely intimate, though Viktor's unable to look away. 

"I never thought I'd see your face again."

Jayce looks embarrassed almost immediately. Viktor raises an eyebrow.

"You're so dramatic."

Deciding he can't handle the lack of personal space any longer, he quickly grabs the mugs in one hand and the teapot in the other, and heads to his couch.

Jayce follows him like a lost puppy. It's cute and utterly infuriating , as if he hadn't recently barged into Viktor's lab and destroyed everything in a blind rage. While part of him is kind of reveling in Jayce's attention, he's still hurt, he realizes. 

"Sit."

Jayce listens, planting himself next to Viktor on the couch, some distance between them. Thank God. Viktor pours their tea in silence, brow furrowed, thinking of his next move. He’d invited Jayce over because he felt like they were getting… somewhere. He’s not sure where exactly he’d like them to end up, but he does know that whatever they’ve been doing — whatever it was that led to the destruction of his laboratory, of dozens of lives — needs to stop. For good. It’s not the kind of thing that can end with a short conversation and a couple jokes, nor with Viktor taking his mask off and suddenly appearing mostly human again to Jayce. They haven’t actually done anything yet — which is the scary part.

He pushes a mug of tea towards Jayce, grabbing his own and taking a sip. Jayce mimics him, looking a little lost. Viktor figures this means it’s his turn now. 

Jayce opens his mouth before he can say anything, though.

“It’s… good to see you again.” 

Viktor winces. 

“No… no. You’ve ‘seen’ me many times over since I left the academy.”

Jayce’s face falls. “Yeah, but —”

“I’m the same man that broke into your office, knocked you out, and stole that crystal,” Viktor interrupts, firmly. “I’m the same person whose laboratory you destroyed.”

He takes his companion’s apparent bewilderment as a queue to continue. 

“You called me a heartless monster that day. That was me, Jayce. I appreciate you joining me here, but there are things that I haven’t forgotten. I’m the soulless aberration you and your Pilties have been so terrified of.”

He takes a sip of his tea, savouring it. It does feel good to unload a bit. 

Jayce inhales, brow furrowed in concern. “Viktor, I —”

“I’m the Machine Herald , Councillor Talis. In case you’ve forgotten.”

For dramatic effect, he decides to turn his mechanical arm to face Jayce, face hardened. It casts a shadow over both of them. 

“This is the Hex Claw. You remember building it together, right?”

Jayce nods, eyes wide. His eyes dart from the claw, to Viktor’s hands and forearms, and back to his face. 

“It’s attached to my spine now. Or… where my spine used to be. I can control it like any other limb in my body. I nearly killed you with it, last time we saw one another.”

He takes another sip of his tea. The alcohol might be helping his nerves, just a bit.

“Do you see my hands? Almost all of me looks like them. They’re flesh transmuted to metal. This, too, cannot be undone. I understand you may feel relieved that I’m not quite as monstrous as you had imagined, but I’m not the same . I have blood on my hands, just as you do.”

He sets his mug down in front of him, before looking back at Jayce again. 

“You know who I used to be. I know who you used to be. We may not be strangers, but we don’t know one another. You’ve been disgusted with me, and I’ve hated you for it. This is where we are now.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Viktor doesn’t believe he has much more to say, and Jayce — Jayce looks like he’s processing a million things at once. Though it feels good to have the upper hand, Viktor does feel a little sorry for him. 

After downing what looks like half his mug of spiked tea, Jayce finally says something. 

“Why did you do it? Why did you… change yourself?”

“Why?” Viktor raises an eyebrow. “I was dying. I was doomed. My body was eroding. I couldn’t let myself disappear. Zaun needed me.”

“I know that, but… the Hex Claw, the armor, everything. You went beyond not dying.”

He has a point. Suddenly, Viktor doesn’t feel as though he has the upper hand anymore.

He blinks, looking away at his mug of tea. 

I was heartbroken and depressed and tired of being human. I spent my whole life in everyone’s shadow. Realizing flesh and blood were optional was the most freeing thing that’s ever happened to me.

“I had nothing left to lose. Why not become something else?”

Jayce frowns, brow furrowed. “I… I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand it. You can't. It's my body. Just don’t hate me for it.” 

Jayce blinks, thoughtful. He’s quiet for nearly a minute before he speaks up again.

"I… I know I've been… harsh," he starts. "And cruel, honestly. I just hated the idea that my… best friend I'd ever had could turn into… ah —"

"A monster?" Viktor finishes for him. "Tell me, what had I done to deserve to be vilified? I know my methods might be taboo in the eyes of the academy, but I've never operated on someone without consent, and without testing as much as I could on myself."

Jayce flinches at that. He frowns. "I… didn't know. I had assumed the worst."

"Your people always assume the worst when it comes to people like me. Even when I was Heimedinger's assistant, people still looked down on me like I was less than them. Any error I made in their eyes was the end of the world. And the worst part was that despite being my friend, you were a Piltie first." 

He swears he can see Jayce's temples tensing. 

"I stood up for you once, when no one believed in you. You didn't have the same faith in me."

He hopes his frankness doesn't scare Jayce away, though he does mean to frighten him just a little. Being frightening is effective armor, he's learned.

They sip their tea in silence for a moment, Jayce clearly deep in thought. Eventually, he takes a long breath and rubs a hand down his face, flushed the alcohol and worn from stress, it seems. He looks at Viktor, right in the eye. 

"I'm… I'm so sorry. I wasn't a good partner or friend to you, in the end. I felt like I had the world on my shoulders and I let it get to me — I let them get to me. I stopped trying to understand you and only cared about doing the "right" thing without having any clue what that meant. I trusted other people to know more about what was right, and… and it cost me this."

He motions between them. 

" Us. I still don't know if you're right, or if anyone is. But it wasn't worth losing you. I've missed you so much. I think about you all the time. And it made me so angry because I knew it was my fault. I'm sorry."

Viktor catches a lump in his throat. He swallows it, defiant. He didn't think Jayce had it in him to be humble. 

Two can play at being wrong, it seems.

"I don't know how to make things right, V. I don't know if it's even possible. But I want to. And I don't mean with Piltover and Zaun and the rest of the world — I just mean us."

Viktor ponders this a moment, trying to ignore the swelling in his chest at the sound of Jayce calling him "V" again. It's not helping him think straight. 

"Well," he starts, sipping the last of his mug of tea. "I think we're off to a decent start."

He smiles, first to himself, and then at Jayce who, looking equally nervous and hopeful, smiles back. 

Viktor sets his mug down and gets up, walking over to pick up the Zaunian whiskey bottle from the counter. 

"I don't know about you," he says upon returning to the couch, "but I have a metal liver and a pot of tea that's still nearly full."

"I don't have a metal liver," Jayce laughs, his eyes warm. "But I might need one after tonight."

Viktor chuckles. "Care to get a little fucked up, old friend? For old time's sake?"

Jayce laughs. "Definitely."

. . .

Back when they would drink together after a long, several-day work stint, Jayce would get touchy. He always claimed drinking caffeine and alcohol together made him antsy and tactile, needing to occupy his hands with something to avoid feeling restless. He'd offer Viktor foot massages, sometimes hand massages, sometimes something as simple as a gentle yet persistent kneading of his shoulder and neck. 

It always felt casual and relaxed, and though Viktor was a little taken aback at first, he always settled in easily. The men he'd take back to his bedroom at the academy were never the most affectionate — it wasn't what either of them were there for. It was direct, utilitarian, and exactly what Viktor wanted. But Jayce, though they were definitely not sleeping together, was always the one exception. Viktor, surprisingly, didn't mind putting his life on hold for a few minutes of casual affection from someone who meant something to him. 

Viktor didn't necessarily understand the impulse to touch — he was definitely not a casually affectionate person — but he did enjoy receiving it. Immensely, it turned out. He started looking forward to it, and eventually, missed it when it was gone. 

. . .

The bottle of whiskey was far more empty than it had been. Their teas were nearly gone too. Viktor was nursing a buzz in his head, and Jayce was a little more boisterous and giggly than before. Jayce had been rambling an admittedly hilarious story about his friend Caitlyn's girlfriend Vi getting into a bar fight over some unsalted peanuts. It barely made any sense, but it definitely made Viktor laugh. More than he had in a long time. 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Jayce's tone shifted.

"May I?"

"... May you what?"

"Can I see your hands?"

They were both mostly sunken into the couch, facing one another. Completely relaxed. Viktor nods, hesitantly sitting up and reaching over. Jayce holds his hand almost immediately, taking it gently and carefully observing 

“Did you make them yourself?”

It’s an interesting question. He’s flattered at the assumption that Jayce would believe his metalworking skills could be so refined. 

“No… not necessarily. I transmuted them using the hex core, so there was no craftsmanship involved."

Jayce lets out a low whistle, looking a little closer. He gazes up at Viktor.

"And… you said the rest of you is like this too?"

"Most of the rest of me." He raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just, ahh… wondering if you still like massages. I'm feeling a little… you know how I get."

He seems embarrassed. It's endearing. Viktor smiles, before remembering he doesn't actually have much flesh on him to knead anymore. Jayce seems to realize it too, both of them clearly a little confused at how this could play out. Viktor does still feel things, though. Just a little differently than he used to. 

"You can try. It won't feel the same for you, but I will still enjoy it," he reassures, before offering Jayce his hand again. 

His friend takes it, an adorable look of confusion and determination on his face, as if solving a puzzle. He turns Viktor's hand palm-side up and begins kneading it with his thumbs. It's clearly not the same as massaging skin and flesh, and he looks a tad puzzled at first. 

"It's nice… it's good," Viktor reassures him. "It feels almost the same, but equally good. Please continue."

Jayce lights up and continues, now focusing on squeezing the digits of one finger at a time. Viktor settles back into the couch, closer to Jayce than before.

"Where were we?" He asks, still eager to hear how the story ends. 

"Ah — right, so Vi decks this guy out and throws the nuts at him —"

. . .

Jayce does his other hand next, then his feet, and is now working diligently on his neck. He's still talking about nothing, and Viktor is still listening intently, enjoying every minute of it. Jayce's arm is practically around him, kneading the back of his neck with his thumb and index finger. 

And Viktor is staring at him, holding onto his every word. At one point he starts to feel himself slip, his head sliding along with the help of gravity right onto Jayce's shoulder without much effort. It feels natural — they're both similar heights, so it kind of fits. Jayce barely notices.

At one point, his hand travels upward into the base of Viktor's scalp, onto his actual skin. He inhales sharply, enjoying the sudden shift in sensation. Jayce stiffens, pausing.

"Is… is this ok?"

"Very," Viktor replies, half into Jayce's shoulder. On a bold whim, he reaches over to Jayce's head with the hex claw and gently scratches his scalp. "This ok?"

Jayce shudders, laughing lightly. "Yeah that's… surprising, but really nice."

His body is warm — Viktor can feel it through his shirt. Jayce looks at him, and he looks back, their eyes lidded and searching. They stop touching one another for a brief moment, and then — 

Jayce coughs, blinking. He looks away, and continues his anecdote. Viktor can barely hear him over the thrumming of his own mechanical heart. 

He decides that he doesn't give a shit anymore. They've only stopped hating each other for a few hours now, so it's not like there's anything to lose. Viktor is familiar with having nothing to lose — it's made him bold. It's made him innovate and take risks without knowing whether they'd pay off. He's already lost love, legacy, life in a sense. It's not like he feels afraid anymore. Quite the opposite actually.

He leans in and gently presses his lips to Jayce's neck. Jayce — bless him — doesn't notice at first because he's still somehow talking. So Viktor tries again, this time mouthing a little more purposefully, sucking gently. 

Jayce stops talking.

"Is this ok?" Viktor mumbles into his neck. He feels Jayce swallow. 

"... Yes, that's good."

He brings a cool metal hand to the other side of Jayce's neck, his companion flinching slightly at the touch. 

"That's good too," Jayce says without prompting. 

Viktor's thought about doing this a thousand times, but he'd never felt like he could. There was too much at stake — hextech, their partnership, their dreams, other people's lives. Now, they had nothing. No hatred, it seemed, but nothing shared either. If this goes south, they couldn't possibly be worse off than when they walked in here. 

He bites lightly, and Jayce sighs, sinking back into the couch. Viktor continues, licking, sucking, kissing rhythmically and feeling Jayce melt under him. He snakes his hand into Jayce's scalp, the claw still lightly scratching him, his mouth still diligently working. A glance at Jayce's pants reveals he's getting hard. It sets Viktor on fire. 

He doesn't lose his mind, though. Not yet. Despite being quite surprised at both Jayce and himself, he tries not to let it show. Instead, he works his mouth up Jayce's neck, licks and nibbles behind his ear, before turning their faces together. Their eyes meet, and Jayce, predictably, looks loose, drunk, and a little terrified. But also undeniably into it. 

Well. That answers a lot of questions Viktor's been keeping to himself this whole time. 

Jayce swallows. "You're… what are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Is all Viktor replies.

Kissing him might be a bit premature — almost too intimate right now. Viktor hasn't kissed every person he's slept with, in any case. So instead, he drags his hand down from Jayce's neck to his belt, pulling it slightly in a silent question. 

Jayce hitches his breath, looking at Viktor's hand. He nods.

This is probably a mistake, Viktor muses while undoing Jayce's belt with one hand. He's never really been one to care about risk, though. 

"May I use my mouth on you?" He whispers into Jayce's ear.

" God , yes."

There's something quietly funny about all of this — the Machine Herald on his knees for Councillor Talis, of all people. Or better yet, Jayce Talis, the Man of Progress and the most eligible bachelor in Piltover, eagerly submitting to the soulless aberration he swore to despise forever. 

He’s too turned on and tipsy to laugh about it, though. At least not yet. Instead, he runs on instinct, settling between Jayce’s legs and making quick work of undoing his belt and feeling him through his pants. Jayce moans at the touch, his head tilting back and closing his eyes.

Viktor was definitely not expecting things to go in this direction, of all places. Bringing Jayce over to his place wasn’t a conscious ploy to take him to bed — he was mostly just looking for some sort of catharsis, and maybe an opportunity to show Jayce his humanity. He’s doing a decent job of it too, apparently — what’s more human than running on base desire and impulse, without care about the possible repercussions?

He uses the hex claw to lightly grip Jayce’s head and hold it back, which is probably not a very human thing to do. Viktor figures anyone that’s willing to sleep with him must have some level of curiosity about the things that make him… different than most people. Jayce seems into it at least, heaving a sigh and hitching his hips up just a little.

Before unbuttoning his pants, Viktor pauses and looks up at Jayce. He loosens the hex claw’s grip for a moment, and Jayce glances down at him, eyelids heavy. 

“Are… are you sure about this ?” Viktor asks, voice low. “I don’t want you to have regrets come  tomorrow.”

Jayce nods, worrying his lip. “I… I’m sure. I want it. Please .”

He looks desperate. It’s enough to tip Viktor over the edge. 

It’s as if his mind goes blank and the next thing he’s conscious of is Jayce in his mouth, hard and warm. He slinks one hand up Jayce’s shirt onto his abdomen, feeling him clench and buck as he takes him further down his throat. Jayce places a hand on his head, gently yet firmly gripping his hair. 

Time is kind of lost on Viktor in this state. He’s not sure how long they’re at it before Jayce pulls him off gently and asks where his bedroom is. He’s taken aback at first, having thought that whatever they were doing would be as far as it would go. 

He’s wrong about that, as it turns out. When he stands and helps Jayce off the couch, he’s met with a hand on the back of his neck, an open-mouthed kiss, and a tongue in his mouth. It’s unrefined, messy, and one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to him. Jayce’s hands are strong, their touch firm — one gripping his nape, the other resting on his lower back and pulling him in. He can feel Jayce hard against his leg, pushing against him insistently. 

He reaches his arms around Jayce’s neck and head, kissing him back with all the fervor that’s built up in him over many, many years. Licking into Jayce’s mouth, Viktor reaches down and pulls him by the waist towards his bedroom. They almost stumble over, but he takes the opportunity to push Jayce against the wall and press against him, thumbs firm against his hip bones. Jayce moans into his mouth, pulling his hair at the root.

They somehow reach the bedroom. Viktor breaks their kiss and shoves Jayce onto the bed, taking a moment to drink him in. His hair is messier than he’s ever seen it, his shirt is rumpled and collar lopsided, and his dick is sticking straight out of his trousers. It would be hilarious if Viktor weren't so impatient to get naked.

“Take off your clothes,” Jayce says lowly, between heavy breaths. Viktor raises an eyebrow. 

“What makes you think you can order me around, hm?” 

He smirks, pushing Jayce down onto the bed and straddling him. “Do it yourself.”

His old friend swallows, looking at his still-clothed chest. He reaches up, feeling Viktor’s hard, metal torso through his shirt. As he gears up to undo the first button, his eyes shift up to the hex claw, casting a shadow over both of them. Jayce flinches. 

“I… I can retract it, if you like,” Viktor offers, suddenly self-conscious. He hasn’t forgotten he nearly killed Jayce with it only recently. 

Jayce appears to consider it, looking back down at Viktor’s body and then up to his face once again. 

“... No, no don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s part of you. You don’t need to hide it from me.”

Viktor’s chest sinks, his heart thrumming. It’s entirely too intimate of a thing to say. He hadn’t given Jayce enough credit — maybe this isn’t his first time thinking about taking Viktor to bed. They eye each other, still a little disoriented from the alcohol, his mind racing. 

“Take my clothes off,” he orders again.

Jayce complies, suddenly less rushed and more careful, and gently unbuttons Viktor’s shirt to reveal his torso. He pushes the fabric out of the way and places a hand on Viktor’s abdomen, feeling the cool metal against his palm. Viktor reaches behind himself and unbuttons the part of his shirt sewn to accommodate the hex claw, and lets it fall to the floor, revealing his entire torso. Everything from his jaw down, is intricately woven metal panels with fuschia light occasionally slipping through the cracks. Physically, he’s bigger than he used to be — though not as built as Jayce, he knows he looks very little like his former self. 

He sits up perfectly straight, his chest held high — something he was never able to do before changing himself. Jayce just stares, taking in the whole sight of him. He runs his hands down Viktor’s arms, up his chest, and finally down to his hips, eyes wide. 

Viktor knows it might be strange for Jayce. It doesn’t feel strange for Viktor, however. For one, he’s pictured being with Jayce enough to be entirely used to the idea of being in bed together. And secondly, he feels more at home in his body now than he ever has.He chose it himself, and he genuinely prefers being made of metal than flesh. He hadn’t chosen the body he was born with — he grew to accept it, sure, but he’d never felt a kinship with it like he does now. This body was a choice. It was a risk. And it had cost him a clear conscience and taken a life before he knew how to change it safely — something he’s never forgotten. Anyone he beds would need to respect it and not fear it, nor hate it. 

“You’re hot,” Jayce mumbles, just loud enough to be heard. He looks up at Viktor, meeting his gaze. “You’re also kind of terrifying.”

Viktor laughs at that, placing a hand over his face. He hears Jayce laugh too. 

“I mean, you have an arm that could cook me in seconds attached to your spine, and you’re… you’re…”

“A machine?” Viktor finishes for him.

“Sort of, I guess?” Jayce chuckles. “It’s definitely weird, I’m not gonna lie. I kind of feel like you could kill me right now if you wanted to.”

“Oh, I could,” Viktor muses. He reaches the hex claw down to push a lock of hair out of Jayce’s face. “I might, who knows.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but Jayce does blink in shock for a split second. Viktor pulls the hex claw back. 

“Jayce, of course I’m not going to kill you!”

He’s met with a nervous laugh. Jayce shakes his head and returns his gaze. “Great, well I’m glad we got that out of the way,” he finishes, pulling Viktor down by the neck and kissing him again. 

They grind their hips together, Jayce bare and hard against Viktor’s pant leg. Before he knows it, he’s on his back and Jayce is removing his own pants first, then palms Viktor’s length between his legs.

Jayce pauses. “Is it… are you —”

“It’s metal too, yes,” Viktor interrupts. “I can still use it and feel good.”

“Mmh,” is all Jayce says in reply, before diving down to mouth him through his pants. Viktor gasps, back arching. It’s the first time in a long time anyone’s touched him — the first time since he changed his body.

He’s naked before he knows it, Jayce settling in on the bed between his legs, kissing his stomach and the insides of his thighs. His face is flushed, eyes heavy, and hair completely sideways. It almost seems as if Jayce is teasing himself, grinding against the mattress as he takes Viktor’s cock into his hot mouth.

He’s done this before , is all Viktor thinks as his hips buck forward, edging himself further down Jayce’s throat. His tongue is practiced, licking up the shaft and at the base of his head, sucking a little before descending again. 

“You’re good ,” Viktor moans between breaths. 

Jayce pops his mouth off, chest heaving. “You sound surprised.”

“Have you thought about… this? With me?” His curiosity has kind of got the better of him. As hard and wanting as he is, he kind of needs to know. Viktor’s always been a little too curious for his own good. 

Jayce stares him in the eye, lips kiss, stung and wet. He takes a sharp breath. 

“So much. All the time.”

“ What? ”

“Can I keep blowing you, or do you have more questions?”

Viktor laughs. “ Please —”

They’re back at it again in a heartbeat. 

He does lose his mind a little, eventually. Jayce swirls his tongue around Viktor’s tip, squeezing him at the base of his cock and sucking. It’s entirely too good — he feels himself getting close. But he doesn’t want things to end just yet. 

“ Ah — your shirt. Off. ”

Jayce sits up and starts undoing his buttons so quickly, it’s almost comedic. He lets his shirt fall, revealing a broad chest dusted with hair, wide shoulders, strong forearms. Viktor's seen him shirtless before — he's made up excuses to watch Jayce work in the forge countless times. Now, however, he's even broader and more built than he used to be.

"Come here," Viktor hisses, pulling him forward at the neck. He kisses him, biting his upper lip and hitching their hips together, cocks rubbing against one another. He bites Jayce's neck again, eliciting a sharp breath and an " oh ".

It's a mess; a flurry of nips and tugs, grinding and sharp moans. Jayce bites at his ear and licks a stripe up his jaw — Viktor reaches down to grasp their cocks together, Jayce's precome easing them along. He can barely process all of it on top of the underlying shock that this is all actually happening right now -- that it's real , that his friend turned enemy had actually been thinking about doing this to Viktor many, many times over. Why had they wasted so much time hating each other when they could have been doing this ?

" Ah — I'm gonna come, V — "

Jayce kisses him. What an absolute sap.

He grunts, spilling onto Viktor's chest with a few stuttered, rapid thrusts. Before he can even think, Viktor is in Jayce's mouth again, eyes rolling back in his head.

" Ah , I— " Viktor stutters, mind going white.

He comes, Jayce moaning into it and taking him deep.

It takes him a minute to come to, having entered a near comatose post-orgasm state. Jayce is next to him when he opens his eyes, lying on his back, chest heaving. They sit together, not quite looking at one another as they regain their senses.

Viktor gazes down at himself, noting the drying come all over his chest. He reaches for the closest item of clothing — his own shirt — and begins to clean himself up. The silence is deafening — he's not sure which of them should be the first to talk after... well, that.

"... Jayce," he starts, before turning and realizing that his friend is... completely asleep. He's snoring , out cold. Viktor softens, the tightness in his chest quieting.

He looks just like he used to when he would pass out on the couch in their laboratory at four in the morning after a marathon work session — eyes tightly shut, mouth slightly agape, brow relaxed. Viktor can't help but smooth some of Jayce's hair back, and wipe a spot of wetness from the corner of his lip. Whatever this is, they'll figure it out in the morning.

Fingers crossed.

. . .

Viktor wakes up alone.

At first, he doesn't think anything of it — it's completely ordinary for him. After a moment, though, he remembers what had happened the night before. His chest sinks like a lead weight at Jayce's absence. There are a number of reasonable explanations for it, many of which don't have anything to do with him running out on Viktor before they could figure things out. It's hard, though, for him to picture them.

His thinking is cut short, however, by the sound of some clattering and a faint " Fuck! " coming from the kitchen. Well. Either Jayce was planning to run out and accidentally made a sound, or...

... or something else.

Viktor decides he doesn't want to wait to find out. He hops out of bed, hastily pulls on his trousers from the night before, and leaves his bedroom.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he did end up finding — Jayce in only his underwear and the apron Jinx had sewn for Viktor as a birthday gift, sucking his left index finger and turning the heat off the stove. A few eggs and the sausages Viktor had picked up from the market the day before are sitting in a cast iron skillet on the stove. A spatula is somehow on the ground, a splash of oil on the tile floor, and two mugs are set up next to a pot of tea on the counter.

It's more than Viktor could have ever dreamed of. It's everything, and more.

"What are you doing?" he asks, unable to help himself. Jayce jumps, turning to face him with wide eyes -- his finger still in his mouth.

"I, uh — breakfast?"

He looks incredibly embarrassed — a red flush spreading from his face to his chest. Viktor glances from Jayce, to the food, and back to Jayce, dumbfounded.

"It's... It's taking a while to cook," Jayce adds, innocently. "I was trying to light the gas with a match but I burned myself."

Viktor chuckles, unable to help himself. His old friend was never much of a cook. It was usually Viktor's job, the mornings they'd spend together.

"It does that sometimes," he says, making his way into the room. "Allow me."

He starts up the beam on the hex claw, its whirring grabbing Jayce's attention immediately. He aims it at the skillet and pulses one, two beams of heat directly at the food, making it sizzle and crisp up. Jayce lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, uh... that sure is... multipurpose."

"Yes," Viktor supplies, smiling at him. "It's quite convenient, actually."

"I can imagine." Jayce worries his lip, glancing around the counter. "So, uh, tea? Breakfast? I'm a little hungover, and — "

He's interrupted by a hand on his cheek and a kiss on his mouth, firm and pointed. Viktor feels him sink into it, their lips parting to fit together, a hand finding its way to his lower back.

"Thank you," he mumbles into Jayce's mouth. "This is... lovely."

Jayce smiles against him, still a little hesitant. "Yeah? It's not too much? I didn't want to presume — "

"Oh, you presumed, " Viktor interrupts, pulling back. "Correctly, I would add. I was hoping you would still be here when I woke up."

"Wha — of course I'd still be here. I'd never leave you after... after all that."

Viktor startles. He feels almost bad for thinking anything else. Of course . Of course this is how things ought to be — how things should have been this whole time.

“What will people think? Of… of us?” Viktor asks as they sit down for breakfast. It’s worth mentioning, given Jayce’s position as a council member, and Viktor’s… reputation . “Provided… well provided we continue —”

“You know,” Jayce interrupts, a lopsided smile growing on his face. “I actually don’t really give a shit what anyone thinks." 

Viktor raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly despite the tightness in his chest. “You’re sure?”

He feels Jayce take his hand on the table, fingers entwining.

“Absolutely. Nothing would be worth losing you again.”

Whether Jayce would be a man of his word, whether he’d actually stand up for Viktor, time can only tell. It would be easier to let the entire thing go and not chance that kind of hurt again. A million cells in his body are telling him to run , and yet — he can’t. He doesn’t have it in himself to retreat any longer.

How one person could summon such joy in him after everything, he’ll never be able to explain. How they could go from nearly killing one another to having breakfast together, he has no fucking idea. But matters of the heart rarely make sense. Surprisingly, for the first time in his entire life, Viktor is completely at peace with that.