Archive of Our Own

Jayce Talis dragged his corrupted Mercury Hammer alongside him as he scourged the shadows of Piltover, contemplating the future he had experienced in the alternate universe transformed through Viktor’s ‘Glorious Evolution’ and what he had to do to prevent it from reaching that point in the present. His braced leg suffered through each painstaking step, the itch of his unkempt beard irritating as the thirst seared across scarred lips.

First, he would have to find Viktor and end the disastrous impact he was spreading through Zaun. Jayce would have to kill him, as he had promised. He would inform Mel and Caitlyn about the threat of evolved robots and prepare for battle. He would start by making his way to the bridge leading beyond the surface. As he stepped into the light, Jayce gradually noticed differences in this world…

The architecture and landscapes existed without the Hexgate tailing rays for shipping lines or other technical advancements that developed as a result of his and Viktor’s breakthrough seven years ago. Some enforcer uniforms too, he observed, did not have the current design which the Kirammens formerly adapted. Some buildings were shorter than they had been before the time of his disappearance. That was when Jayce realised that he must have travelled to the past before Hextech was invented.

“First they drop me far forward, now I’ve gone too far back,” Jayce thought, grumbling to himself.

He stepped back into the darkness where nobody would question the deformed butterfly-like weapon in his hand, shimmering shades of colours within prisms surrounding the hex-crystal containing the explosive terror that he had doomed this city to become. He hid well enough not for citizens to question his existence and cause a scene. Jayce had been hoping to be returned to his own timeline to prevent the ‘Glorious Evolution’ from occurring in the future; he did not want to disrupt the timeline he was in now or else his actions could change the future— Wait…

Jayce pressed his back upon the brick wall and thought for a moment. Yes… yes, his actions here could change the future: the invasion, Viktor’s healing ability, even Hextech itself; all could be undone so that no harm or pain could happen in the first place. Suddenly, he had an epiphany. What if there was a way every wrong could be corrected from the absence of a single event…?

The explosion in Jayce’s workshop.

He could fix it all, right here and now. He set off to work immediately, finding an enclosed crevice between cobwebbed vents to hide the hammer in the meantime. He would come back for it once he found a place to stay, a better plan to keep it securely hidden. Jayce prided himself in his ability to adapt to challenges through his strength and ingenuity.

He tried to stabilise his leg brace with metal scraps in alleyways, tore a blanket to act as a robe hiding the rest of his appearance and sought out a building buzzing with hospitality, a sign indicating that it was an inn of sorts. It had been a while since he had engaged with humanity again, but Jayce convinced himself that the sociable Golden Boy was still in there somewhere, ready to ask about the time and date, prices to negotiate.

He estimated the date after having a discussion with a bartender named Loris and found that it was about a week before the explosion. He’d have to survive the remaining days by trying to find a place to sleep so that enforcers or other humans could not threaten or engage with him out of suspicion. For that, he needed money. Jayce stripped the trinkets, gold and ornaments off his clothing and excess jewels off his hammer— any valuable items to sell at the local markets in Piltover or the Undercity. He used his strength as service for clients in need of assistance and participated shamelessly in lifting and arm-wrestling competitions amongst various bars.

Jayce eventually bought a temporary room to stay in, having the opportunity to take the first bath he had in months. He removed his brace first, body aching all over as his wounds and scars submerged into warm water. It took at least three hours to scrub the grime, blood, pus and muck from his disheveled hair, dirty skin and nails and infected wounds— it was disgustingly satisfying to make himself look tidy enough to seem half the person he used to be. He paid for bandages and a new set of clothes, (black and a bit tight over his torso) wondering if he would be keeping this outfit once he travelled to present time.

Whilst trading in the Undercity, he came across a renowned merchant with a melted face known for his reliable potions; he stood behind a barred barrier and offered a vial of slumbering forgetfulness in exchange for one of Jayce’s jewels.

“It’s a substance that knocks out anyone in a few seconds and erases the memories of the drinker,” the potion seller explained.

Jayce was interested in potions to peacefully subdue enforcers or guards to steal the crystals, but it seemed a bit heartless to damage their mind. He asked, “Do they lose most of their memories? And how long do they sleep?”

“Three drops is equivalent to five hours of memory loss. They wake up within a few hours. Drinking the whole vial may be fatal, so use with caution.”

After purchasing the substance, Jayce limped back to the bar closest to his quarters. He sat on the high chair near the bartender’s station and sighed. Loris glanced at him as he shook a cocktail, the beads at the end of his bangs shaking in tandem with Jayce’s swaying body leaning upon the counter.

“Welcome back, Jayce,” Loris greeted, glancing at his tense form, “Man, you always look like you’ve been through hell.”

Jayce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You have no idea.”

For the past few days, Jayce had been relying on this bartender to guide him through recommended steps to survive the secluded streets of Piltover, away from enforcers or the Academy for now, and help him afford necessities for his unemployed existence amongst civilisation. Loris seemed reliable enough for Jayce to trust with his real name; they do not cross paths in the future as far as he could tell. Loris put down the silver shaker, pointing at him.

“You know what you need?” He suggested to Jayce: “A good fuck. The ol’ shakin’ in the sheets.”

The Man of Progress rolled his eyes while Loris clarified why this method of desire could ease his physical pain. Out of all the people Jayce would turn out to confide after colliding between world lines, it just had to be an oaf who tried convincing him to get laid. He turned to his shaking leg which was still aching, uncomfortable pressure from constant movement alongside his ineffective cast.

Jayce thought about Viktor, how painful it must have been for him all this time, to walk like this every single day. His heart constricted at the thought of Viktor going through this experience continuously, like merciless clockwork, due to his disability and his disease. It made Jayce yearn to see his research partner once more, to embrace the past Viktor and tell him that everything would be okay and that he was so strong and admirable regardless of his circumstances.

As if the universe was responding to his silent plea, Jayce suddenly heard a feint, familiar sound over Loris’ rambling, of a walking staff with a spherical stopper tapping on the ground, accompanied by a voice so smooth, calming sweet with that earth-shattering accent, lulling him to a dreadful pause:

“Am I interrupting?”

Jayce flinched at the question, a moment of both disbelief and relief. It couldn’t be… He spun around, eyes wide at the full glorious portrait of his lab partner from seven years ago.

Viktor.

His youthful, ethereal Viktor with those bright, amber eyes clear from exhaustion and neatly trimmed brown hair that gently framed his glowing face and less sunken cheeks, blessed with the beauty mark under his eye and another above his witty lips which made Jayce melt every time he’d earn a smile. That scrawny build, the healthiest anyone had ever seen him, the tempting image of his companion, the Viktor that would supposedly save his life in a few days. My god, Jayce thought, was he always this beautiful?

“Pardon me, Sir,” Viktor apologised, “I didn’t mean to startle you. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sir? Oh, right. By this time, Viktor must have been around 25 years of age, whereas Jayce had been a year younger. Due to time travel, going rouge, growing a bigger structure of his body, Jayce realised that, to Viktor, he was an elderly stranger and not the typical student he would pass at the Academy.

At the mention of a ghost, Jayce was reminded then of the white cloak over the figure in the future. The jarring flashbacks of Viktor’s body on the ground after Jinx’s explosion, his death and resurrection due to the hexcore, the same hexcore that stole the true Viktor away from him. For a frightening moment, Jayce had the suggestion to kill his partner here, eyeing the silver cocktail shaker anxiously. A dead Viktor now… meant no post-augmented Viktor. No Glorious Evolution. However, that thought was shattered in an instant the moment Viktor gestured to Jayce’s brace.

“I noticed you were struggling to move your leg,” the apprentice said, sitting down beside him at the bar, “when I was collecting goods for my mentor. The metallic invention is impressive, don’t get me wrong, but I deduced you’d much rather walk around in comfort. Would you like my help repairing your brace? I have tools here that could be of use to you.”

Viktor’s mentor was Heimerdinger at this time, so he must have been running errands for a project in the Academy before catching a stranger in his limping state. Jayce could barely form a single sentence, staring at the bag Viktor slung over his shoulder that likely held the tools to stabilise his leg. It seemed that, out of empathy toward another person experiencing a similar restriction, this Zaunite inventor went out of his way to collect tools for a wounded man. Jayce felt various emotions ranging from guilt, grief and spontaneous rage. What type of sick joke was this for the universe to once again pair him up with the same person who got him in this mess in the first place? Who also saved him in the first place, and continued to do so even now…

Assuming Jayce’s shock was complete love-struck speechlessness toward this new character, Loris decided to make a move to get these destined, disabled men together, specifically in bed.

“Well, this is the first time I’ve seen this reaction from him since we met,” he replied with a bellowing laugh, “C’mon, Jayce, why don’t you allow this good fellow to fix you up?”

Jayce would have reprimanded Loris for the constant sexual innuendos, but he was too occupied with the fact that his real name was uttered out loud in front of—

“Jayce?” Viktor tested the word on his tongue, a soft sound, seductive; it made Jayce want to fall onto his knees in desperation, yearning, when he received that award-winning smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Sir Jayce. My name’s Viktor.”

Oh. Oh no. Jayce knew he was fucked.

The only action he could muster was a firm nod. He suddenly realised how troublesome it was now that Viktor of the past knew the face and name of the future Jayce before meeting the Jayce of his own timeline! Despite his lab partner not noticing it was really him, surely it would raise suspicions in the future of this world? The same man encountered at this bar looking like the older version of Academy Jayce, whilst sharing the same name, could taint the outcome of a world he wanted to create. If only there was a way he could undo this mistake!

“Will you accept my help to strengthen your leg’s support?” Viktor asked, hand hovering over the rebellious gears and fixtures on Jayce’s brace, “Perhaps you could pay me back with a drink after?”

… A drink? Jayce felt for the vial in his pocket, the one the Undercity potion merchant sold so that enforcers could be knocked out at the scene and be given memory loss of the previous four hours. If Viktor drank it, it would be as if they had not engaged with one another from the beginning. Yes, this was the best plan considering the circumstances. He conjured up his Councilor personality, a reasonable negotiator.

“I’ll accept your help—” Jayce finally found his voice, lower and more hoarse than he had anticipated. “—and your conditions.”

He had some glasses and various liquors in his room, an intoxicated distraction which kept him sane most days in this timeline. He aimed to pour Viktor a glass of wine mixed with the potion immediately after the brace was fixed, then the sleeping beauty would be knocked out for an hour only to wake up with no memory of future Jayce at all.

Viktor flinched at the voice, amber eyes sparkling, raised just a little from surprise or intrigue, before lowering his gaze to the ground. Is he scared of my voice? Jayce thought worriedly, Was I too indifferent to him? He cleared his throat, coughing into his fist to cover the hideous scars and frightening features of his savage face.

“Lead the way then,” Viktor said, almost in a soft voice, breathless.

Out of trustworthy obedience, Jayce followed those instructions and got up from his seat, doing his best to not limp to the exit, but figuring it would cause some ease and courage to Viktor if he were vulnerable and weak, started allowing the hobbling to take over. Jayce looked over his shoulder to see Viktor moving alongside him with his own cane and Loris raising a thumbs up to him to remind him: A good fuck!

****

There were so many questions in his head as Jayce guided young Viktor to his bedroom, such as ‘Why are you here helping an older, threatening stranger, Viktor?’, ‘Why are you so overly kind to someone who might hurt you?’ or ‘Aren’t you way too gullible and trusting?’ (Mind you, Jayce did consider killing him a minute ago.)

They spent the journey asking each other about origins, where they were from and what they do for a living— as if Jayce did not already know everything about Viktor when he was twenty-five. When Jayce got to his door, he tried inserting the key into the lock, but was struggling to shake the doorknob open like he usually did. Was it because he was more anxious now, more frantic?

Viktor stepped forward, slowly rubbing his fair, dainty hand over Jayce’s warm, calloused knuckles. His fingers looked so tiny in comparison, making the latter visibly flinch at the apprentice’s fragile form. Viktor guided their calm hands slowly to the keyhole and swiftly turned the lock, pressing the handle down and spreading the door wide open. For a moment, Jayce could feel a pattering of his heart within his chest, and a wave of anticipation that he experienced some time before but could not put his finger on it.

Jayce switched on the light and Viktor strolled into the room as if he owned the place. He studied the small, unmade bed; the empty glasses on the desk which was littered with scribbled papers of strange symbols and calculations; tattered clothing strewn around the floor, and a hammer-shaped object in the corner of the room covered by a blanket, an implication of mystery that this large, rugged, messy man was hiding something dangerous.

Viktor swallowed, gripping the handle of his walking stick just a little bit tighter. “Shall we begin?”

Jayce realised his future research was scrawled on pages upon his desk and that Viktor must have noticed. It surprised him that the Zaunite did not bother looking through the blueprints immediately, but was rather more eager to help a wounded man repair his disability. Jayce could not help but feel a sense of wonder and pride for his past research partner, so willing to put others before himself, so kind and pure and—

“Get on the bed,” Viktor ordered, turning his head slightly to meet his gaze.

Jayce blinked, a glitch of confusion. “Pardon?”

“So that I may fix you,” Viktor explained, his mouth now a fine line between a smile and a smirk as he lifted a screwdriver from his bag and waved it around in a matter-of-fact manner.

Jayce scoffed in repose, pinching his hands on the bridge of his nose, reprimanding himself for ever thinking his partner would act with dirty-minded intentions.

“Oh…right, right,” he said, limping around Viktor then slumping on the edge of the bed.

“Pants off too,” Viktor said, and Jayce followed orders like an obedient Great Dane.

His leg brace came off first, followed by the linen material, revealing dark, muscular, unshaven skin below a broad waist covered by black boxers. Viktor immediately got to work. He laid his bag on the ground and picked a handful of expensive bolts, screws and cords. Jayce had tried purchasing many of those components in the markets, but could neither afford nor attain them in his position, so he just left his injury to its suffering until he traveled back to his own timeline.

The apprentice hummed in curiosity as he refitted the brace onto Jayce’s bandage and analysed the damage, kneeling between his legs and pushing the one with the metal contraption further apart from the opposite limb to access thoroughly. Jayce almost jolted at the skin-to-skin contact, but shook his head at the unreasonable reaction: this was Viktor for crying out loud—the nerdy, modest scientist who always used to reject Sky’s advances in the lab. There was no need to feel aroused at this predicament, right?

“For a man who seems to lack privilege,” Viktor acknowledged, sliding his fingers over the strapped knee, “I wonder how you managed to tinker your leg brace with such brazen mechanics.”

With Viktor between his legs, spread apart, his partner’s neat hair tucked so beautifully behind blushing ears, Jayce could feel himself getting…a little excited—could feel himself tightening against the crevice of his pants. He tried to regulate his breathing and thought to himself, Inhale, exhale, don’t forget to answer the question casually.

“I, uh… stole them,” Jayce responded.

… Very casual, Jayce.

Viktor did not appear bothered by this answer at all. He was too busy tightening loose ends on the brace, turning the screwdriver in multiple gears and adjusting scraps with cords and dials he creatively incorporated to the appliance in order for Jayce’s bandaged leg to hold firm. Viktor would lightly push his hand over his thigh to keep it from closing in on him as the screws tightened with each nimble fixture, each brush of flesh.

“Did you also steal whatever’s under that blanket?” Viktor asked, head tilting in the direction of the hammer, “The papers too?”

Considering the fact that Jayce presented as an older, homeless himbo and not the academic councillor that Viktor was not yet accustomed to, it would make sense for someone to assume that the genius equations and heavy concealment were not of his own making. However, the delicate movements between his legs, prying fingers and disarming trustworthiness made Jayce somewhat delirious enough to utter the truth.

“No,” he admitted, “those are all mine.”

Viktor glazed up between Jayce’s thick and wide thighs. The pretty, delicate youth lowered his lashes, a teasing flaunt of amber eyes, focused, a craving. Jayce could not tell if he was breathing, but that last word remained in his head at this flattering, familiar novelty of his partner, a yearning for what he should have cherished more intimately.

Mine.

“—yours too?” It seemed Viktor was speaking.

Jayce panicked for a moment, wondering if he spoke the possessive declaration out loud. “Huh?”

Viktor sighed, “I was being sarcastic, asking if my cane was yours too. No matter…” The inventive Zaunite proudly featured his handiwork, palms wide open as if he were presenting the next act at a circus. “Tada! Your leg brace has been constructed into its glorious evolution!”

Jayce winced at the term in spontaneous shock, goosebumps spreading through his body at the reality of the future. This isn’t the Viktor consumed by Hextech yet, Jayce reminded himself. Calm down and don’t react like a creep.

“Oh,” Viktor noticed movement, further down from Jayce’s torso, now acknowledging the bulge between the older man’s legs, “It seems that’s not the only thing in its full glory.”

… You’ve done it again, Jayce. The Man of Progress wanted to regress back into the cosmos. Surely Viktor was judging him and his lack of civil composure? Nothing screamed ‘creep’ like a 32-year-old man getting a boner at a 25-year-old cripple helping to repair his injury. Thank God Viktor wouldn’t remember this later.

“Um… you said you wanted a drink as a payment,” Jayce said, humiliated.

As an attempt to distract his partner (and himself) from the situation in his pants, Jayce redirected their attention onto the wine bottles on the desk. Unfortunately for him, Viktor was too fixated, too eager, to care.

“Indeed, a taste would suffice,” Viktor breathed, hands sliding upward along each of Jayce’s thighs toward the raging tension. “I bet you’re already dripping.”

It took two seconds to process that his partner’s hands were caressing him, another five seconds to fully register that those movements and words were, in actual fact, not pure. The realisation was like having a chained ball be dropped into the ocean, dragging him down to uncharted depths. Jayce roughly held Viktor’s sly hands in his own to stop him from reaching its mark.

“Pardon?” This time, Jayce was more alert, conscious.

Viktor gave him a look of distaste at having been paused, momentarily rejected. That glare was deadly to Jayce who never used to see Viktor in a seductive, cunning light, upset about not having his provocative touch accepted. Jayce let his hands go, concerned about bruising soft skin, but the indication that no harm would come to him only spurred the young apprentice to continue in his pursuit.

“You know,” Viktor spoke in a more alluring tone, raunchy, as he loosened the cream tie upon his mahogany shirt, unbuttoning his sleeveless vest. “I don’t usually help new faces with miscellaneous struggles, but yours… I made an exception. I believe from the looks you were giving me that you were somewhat…” He glanced again at the bulge in Jayce’s pants. “…keen to reciprocate.”

Jayce was frustrated at the fact that he could not make the private pressure go away nor could he push the fragile body that was now standing in front of him, stripping tantalisingly like a coquettish minx. He could only stare and question helplessly, “A face like mine?”

The bewitching boy tilted his head, pondering. “Let’s just say I like your style.”

Jayce narrowed his brow in thought: style? As in the way he looked— the rugged, dirty, hairier version of himself that had to go through immeasurable physical and psychological trauma in the Anomaly in order to finally get a chance to experience Viktor initiating the first touch between them? This whole time, all it took was for him to go through hell and grow a fucking beard?!

“You’re kidding,” Jayce snarled, infused with involuntary fury.

Viktor removed the brace on his crippled leg and rested it carefully beside Jayce’s fist on the edge of the bed, hovering in fascination above his knee. He loosened the belt on his own pants before pulling his shirt and academy vest clean off, discarding it on the floor to reveal flawless, healthy skin— chest, arms, collarbone, waist, hips. The pants were off too, unveiling smooth legs that Jayce could easily wrap his whole hand around, and a smaller bulge behind white boxers (his only covering), equally enticing. Jayce hated to admit how his mouth watered, how his hands strangled that blanket beneath him.

Viktor leaned closer to Jayce’s face, that sensual smirk meeting glowering eyes, before slowly lowering himself down, sitting, pressing down on that twitching mount. It told all Jayce’s willpower to remain sturdy as a rock— thank goodness he was still wearing a shirt to hinder the Zaunite from exploring his chest. Nevertheless, Viktor’s gleaming shins stretched over Jayce’s barbate legs, the stubbled sensation making him tremble. They were face-to-face due to the height difference and the leverage of Jayce’s thighs, which allowed Viktor to rest his cheekbone along the prickling brush of Jayce’s beard.

He drawled his words as they rubbed together, “I’m not…kidding you. This is no laughing matter, Jayce.”

Jayce grunted, irked at his body for trembling in temptation. His name between those sexy, sultry lips was like a drug; he was addicted to it, wanting to be intoxicated by that intonation. He gripped the sheets, aware of his strength, aware of the distraught pain he could inflict on this naughty Zaunite he once thought he knew all about. Surely, Jayce had never seen this erotic side of his lab partner, after all those years together….

“You look somewhat mad,” Viktor chuckled, huffing excitedly, moving his groin over Jayce’s evident bulge. He thrusted himself forward, lips whispering against his ear, “Is it because I didn’t do this out of ‘the kindness of my heart’? Do you think I should be punished for my shameless actions?”

Shameless actions? Jayce wondered, Like the audacity you'll have using Hextech to destroy the world? Like the abandoned care you will have when you eventually leave me? As if a string had been pulled taut and cut, Jayce snapped and shot to shameless action of his own, suddenly not caring about restraint, not caring about affection, nor the mission he was supposed to accomplish. All he wanted to do right now was make this immodest apprentice fucking scream.

He gripped Viktor’s tiny waist, more unhinged anger than either had anticipated, aggressively rubbing together, hastening the build up between their legs. Jayce watched as tiny hands suddenly reached for his broad shoulders to keep steady; youthful, amber eyes widened and sparkled at the reciprocation, mouth gasping enthusiastically. Viktor shivered, whining with furrowed brows and now limp lower half, surrendering control to those unrelenting hands, a blissful acceptance to the frenzied rut. This reaction made Jayce even more provoked to do as he pleased, unrestrained.

He stood up momentarily, feeling the effective handiwork from Viktor’s repairs. Jayce tested the secured tampering while placing the weight of his body on his left side, bouncing the whimpering boy on his covered cock.

“Th’ brace is m-more comfortable for you, y-yes?” Viktor stammered, adrenalised.

This was probably the first time Jayce had seen Viktor’s expression looking so desperate for approval of his craft, as if wanting to impress an authority. Whatever power was possessing him, Jayce allowed it to overtake him. He said in a snarky tone, “Yes, it seems your hands work efficiently. Good.”

Jayce loosens his hold a bit on Viktor’s hips. The scientist quickly grasps onto Jayce’s shoulders so that gravity wouldn’t allow him to crash, but his body slowly withers to the ground regardless, panicked for a second of a potential fall, but unharmed. Viktor’s legs pressed together to the side, the way sirens are drawn when enticing sailors to their desires. Jayce allowed Viktor some time to adjust to the floor, while slowly stripping the shirt off of his torso. Viktor stared up at the naked chest of the older man— muscular, scarred with a flourish of dark hair encompassing his chest, arms, and lining below his abdomen, disappearing behind those black boxers. The young scientist would have fainted if not for the instruction.

“Take it off,” Jayce ordered.

Viktor gulped, glancing at the three final objects of removal between them: Jayce’s leg brace or the underwear that either of them maintained. He asked eagerly, “W-which one?”

Jayce winced at his partner’s neediness. If only future Viktor had been this attached after being infused with the hexcore. He cupped his heavy hand behind Viktor’s head, soft brown hair hugging his fingers; Jayce pulled that beautiful face closer to the tent in his trunks, the uncertainty cleared.

Viktor sheepishly adjusted his legs, realising he’d have to raise himself to achieve the appropriate height, but flinched when his bad knee pressed to the ground. He made a pained sound like a kitten writhing, and Jayce’s scorned expression fell at the pitch. Without thinking, the worried partner pushed Viktor down to his previous siren-like position and changed his mind. “Take the brace off first.”

Viktor blinked up at him in wonder, both intrigued and confused. The gears were turning in his head, slowly understanding the unwarranted transition. Then, the Zaunite looked to the floor with a disappointed frown, reaching despondently to the repaired crutch. Jayce’s brow narrowed then, confused at the sudden displeasure in Viktor’s movements as he undid the leather straps holding the metal contraptions together. It seemed he did not have to wonder for long.

“You were doing a great job at being aggressive, treating me like any other,” Viktor mumbled, shrugging the entire brace onto the ground, “but then change your attitude when my leg acts out. I don’t want your pity. I didn’t come here for that.”

Jayce felt a wave of guilt. Even years later, after returning from the future, after going through an injury in the same area, after witnessing the insecurities Viktor had faced as a sick, disabled inventor, Jayce still found a way to make his partner feel so inferior, like he was some pretty porcelain easy to break, a fragile outlier, rather than the promising exception that the ‘Wonder Boy’ had been within Piltover’s council. Viktor had likely been pursuing the injured Jayce expecting to be treated as an equal during this intimate moment because this was a man who probably knew what it felt like to be underestimated due to his disability. How wrong he was.

Jayce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. How does he manage to keep fucking up this relationship, even when time traveling? He sat on the bed again, reaching out to brush Viktor’s hair away from the front of his cheekbone, behind his ear. He spoke fondly, eyes soft still, apologetic. “I’m sorry. What do you really want from me, Viktor?”

The young apprentice shook his head, sunken cheek leaning into the curve of the large, warm palm. Viktor admitted, “I want you to make us both forget that we are a little bit broken. Just this once.”

Jayce’s heart ached, holding his beautiful face between caring hands. Was this the dilemma that 25-year-old Viktor was facing everyday? Yet he would still have the courage to go against the Academy and save 24-year-old Jayce from taking his own life.

“You were never broken, Viktor,” he said.

“Then don’t hesitate with me.”

The Man of Progress closed his eyes, taking a moment to reset his biases and activate that same aggression as before, but it was deemed unsuccessful. He was no longer acting in a state of fury; instead, he would have to act solely on unstoppable desire: horniness. Jayce brushed his hand over different sections of Viktor’s body—collar, shoulder, chest and nipples, tracing every mole with rough hands forged from hellish trials. The Zaunite shivered while being caressed and Jayce enjoyed the obedient surrender. When was the last time he touched skin like this? Mel? No, Viktor from his own reality, when Jayce had carried his lifeless body to their workshop. Now, touching Viktor’s body once again, this time so expressive, so full of life, Jayce could not help but seek for more.

“Viktor.”

“Yes?”

“Get on the bed.”

Viktor submissively listened to the firm order, crawling onto the untidy, uneven blankets whilst resting his head on the pillow. Jayce, annoyed at the discomforting valleys, pulled the unmade cover off the sheet, leaving the mattress bare with Viktor patiently waiting at the centre in his tiny, white briefs.

“Take it off,” Jayce growled, feeling himself twitch beneath his boxers.

Viktor let out a moan of anticipation, lifting his hips from the mattress, thumbs hooking into each side of his underwear and slowly pulling them off. His adorable honesty sprang out of the briefs as the material slipped over his smooth thighs down onto his knees. He paused for a moment to take in Jayce’s reaction.

Jayce stared at Viktor’s cute little cock, his debauched form and pretty blushed skin. Jayce pulled down the rest of the underwear and chucked it on the floor with the rest of their clothes and the blanket. Viktor gasped when Jayce grabbed both of his ankles and spread them apart, inspecting each and every intimate detail of his body. The young apprentice trembled, aroused in his full nakedness at the centre of the mattress, being restrained by an older, hot, rugged man. Jayce crawled next to Viktor snaking his one arm behind his neck to act as a pillow. Meanwhile his other hand felt up the pale, trembling skin, exploring the landscape of pleasure and leaving no space untouched, reaching down slowly to his belly, thigh and coercing fingers to the bold, twitching need in between.

Viktor bit his lip and used both of his hands to grab Jayce’s arm, those petite fingers barely encapsulating half of that burley bicep. Once Jayce’s palm lowered onto the underside of Viktor’s member— pressing it down onto his smooth and shaven pelvis— Viktor whined, glancing at Jayce’s face with such overt begging, mouth agape. Jayce admired that face from Viktor: lewd and passionate, inviting.

“You acted so confident earlier, but look how cute you are now, Viktor.”

Jayce allowed his entire hand to slither around Viktor’s humble length, slowly moving it up and down, though shallow due to the wide reach of his palm. Viktor gasped and moaned, nails clawing Jayce’s arm as he gave the young inventor a real learning experience.

Viktor registered the teasing insult and responded, “I-I was convinced that you wouldn’t say no to me.”

“Then you’ve had such naughty intentions with me from the start, hm?” Jayce’s lips leaned into Viktor’s ear, allowing him to feel that beard upon his own clear jawline, as the tone lowered threateningly, and the pace of Jayce’s hand sped up. “Haven’t you, Viktor?”

“Ah, fuck!” Viktor yelled, shutting his eyes in ecstasy as he felt the build-up in his centre, hyperventilating, hands letting go of Jayce’s bicep and now grasping desperately wherever his fingers could hold firm— on the mattress sheets, Jayce’s arm behind his head, the dark underwear— and curled amidst each of their hair was where he found respite, trembling in stimulation.

Jayce growled in his ear again, knowing it drove him crazy, “Answer me, you slutty boy. Is this what you wanted?”

“Y-yes, Sir—ah!” Viktor whined as he came, indecorous, wanton whining and quivering, legs spread out in transparent, exposed vulnerability as Jayce felt all the climactic excitement released into his unrelenting fist.

Sir? Jayce stopped the handjob once he processed the term; he never thought he’d ever hear words like that coming out Viktor’s mouth to surrender control and authority of any kind. It made him feel powerful, responsible and shamefully turned on. God, he never thought himself a pervert ever, until this very moment.

Viktor’s chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, hands now on his stomach and above his heart as if it could calm him down from the high. “That felt… glorious.”

Jayce had a distaste for that word. To distract himself from slight annoyance, he stared at the wet aftermath on his hand and reached down again toward Viktor’s ass. He suggested, “I could show you a real glorious evolution right now.”

It was a terrible joke, but Jayce’s member was in too much agony to care about his inherent insensitive humour. Before he could touch the apprentice’s privacy, Viktor interrupted.

“Uhm, I have a vial of oil in my pocket,” He urged Jayce to look at the scattered clothes on the floor. “Please.”

Jayce noticed a glimmering, glass bottle on the floor which must have freed itself from Viktor’s pocket after they had undressed. Jayce was not sure whether to be delighted or challenged by this emollient. On one hand, this meant that Viktor was ready to go all the way, on the other it implied that he had practice. Had 25-year-old Viktor rolled in bed with other men before? When they first meet, this Viktor would sneak young Jayce into the Academy and feign innocence by implying to Mel that he was actually intending to take Jayce to his bedroom. Should he have noticed the signs since then?

“You really were prepared from the start, huh?” Jayce asked, picking up the vial from the ground in disgruntled murmuring.

Viktor caught the irritated temper. “Are you upset about the lubricant? Did you want to do it… naturally?”

“No.”

Jayce handed the vial over to Viktor, sitting on the edge of the bed again, turned away completely, his broad, scarred back facing him. Viktor croaked in hurt confusion, “Jayce?”

The older man stared up at the ceiling, ordering, “Prepare yourself. I want to hear it.”

Jayce sensed no movement at first, but the moment he heard the popping lid from the bottle, he stood up from the bed, predominantly on his good leg, and started stripping off the boxers. He could hear the groans behind him, soft gasps and raunchy whimpering, wet slapping; Jayce saw how it affected him between his own legs, upright, jolting agitation. Jayce’s wet hand grabbed it similarly to how he held the length of his young apprentice who was struggling in solitude in the centre of the bed. Jayce could feel the size difference, the slick from Viktor’s release coating him as he jerked himself off to those sexy sounds. Jayce let out a guttural, primitive moan, stretching his neck and closing his eyes to visualise the beautiful boy in front of him, the state he’d be in once they collided.

Viktor wailed at Jayce’s outburst, screaming, followed by a series of heavy breathing. He came again, Jayce thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle. Neglecting his own desire for now, Jayce noticed a handkerchief in Viktor’s vest pocket on the ground and slowly crouched down to pick it up, cleaning his hands to stall for time.

“Have you fucked other men before.” It sounded like more of a command than a question.

Viktor replied quickly, “No. You’re my first, Sir.”

The confession satisfied Jayce. If this was Viktor’s first time, it meant there were no prospects throughout his academic career, including the time he’d spend with Jayce in the Hextech workshop. Viktor had been untouched by everyone except Jayce. He turned the front of his body back to the bed, allowing his injured knee to rest slowly on the mattress. Viktor looked like a sweaty, blushing mess already, arms draped over the wrinkled sheet, body turned on his side to face the broad figure.

The second Viktor saw Jayce’s naked desire, his eyes widened, analysing every detail of shining, thick, veiny purpose, standing proudly in front of him. Was the sight too overwhelming perhaps? Jayce brushed Viktor’s damp hair back, seeking permission.

“Do you really want this to be your first time?” he asked.

Viktor sighed, longing, as if the answer was too obvious, “Yes, Sir.”

Jayce could take it no longer. He crawled on the bed, pushing Viktor onto his back, holding thin wrists on either side of his head; he mounted over the timid body, both of them completely naked now on the bare sheets with no restraints left except their will. Jayce told Viktor to wrap his arms around his shoulders for support, to which the apprentice obliged. Between them, Jayce’s dick rested impatiently upon Viktor’s lubricated hole, twitching, hungry.

“Please,” Viktor begged, thrusting his hips to get a taste of the tip rubbing onto him, pressing his welcoming flesh.

Jayce’s timbre absolved an adoring rumble. “Cute. I wonder how you act so high and mighty most of the time…” He started pushing his throbbing cock into Viktor’s walls, “for a virgin. Well, not anymore.”

He thrusted forward, forcefully. Viktor threw his head back, hips raising, back arching, mouth widening— but before he could let out a shout, Jayce took that opportunity to place his lips over Viktor’s, kissing him passionately as they chased pleasure on both ends: the charging, greedy prodding at the bottom and the tender, delirious dance of tongues at the top.

Jayce fucked him like that for who knows how long. He did not care about timing or missions, only Viktor. Only his partner could distract him from decisions of life and death. Suddenly, when Jayce reached all the way inside, twisting his angle slightly downward—

“Ah!” Viktor exclaimed, clawing Jayce’s broad back, lips escaping from the kiss to entertain the thrill. “Mhhm, Jayce, there! That spot!”

Jayce paused at the eager reaction, rocking his hips consistently to the point he previously targeted, overstimulation prolonged by soft jostling. “Here?”

The apprentice nodded, encouraging, “Oh, you found it— yes! Keep fucking me?”

The way Viktor asked it sounded so innocent, desperate. Jayce pulled his cock out half way, feeling and hearing the drag from Viktor’s sucking attachment, before drilling in once more, harder, longer, faster. He grunted, a bestial, vulgar assault, “Like this?”

Viktor’s eyes rolled to the back of his head in submissive ecstasy, legs sprawled wide open, body practically bouncing off the bed at each barbaric thrust.

“Like that, just like that.” The praise seemed almost incomprehensible, a rapture of euphoric bliss and staccato pleads. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—SIR!”

“FUCK!” Jayce swore loudly, grunting.

Their building climax was reaching astronomical heights, stars littering visions, uncontainable accumulation that reaches the apex of production like the apogee of the Arcane, the explosive nebula of constellations that decorates the pinnacle of cosmic beauty, an outer-body experience reaching its peak. Viktor started panting, “It’s happening… Jayce, oh god, again—“

“I’m close too.” Jayce holds Viktor’s head between his hands, speeding up, “Can I come inside you?”

He caressed Viktor’s cheekbones, adoring the way he keens and yells the most willing response, “YES!”

Six final, colossal thrusts with reverberating moans were all it took to achieve their reciprocal orgasm, accompanied by the shaking of the bed, sheets sprawled, soaked.

The clarity and stench of sex filled the room, enduring a heaving acceptance and a tired, sticky embrace. Jayce slumped beside Viktor whose arms carefully slid off those broad shoulders onto the heaving rise and fall of his stomach. Jayce steadied his breathing as his propped his head up along his elbow; he stared at Viktor’s sparkling, amber eyes, tears of desire fluttering upon the waterline, lips swollen from lustrous kissing and skin pink after hot frivolity. Jayce also noticed Viktor seemed a bit uncomfortable between his legs—most likely from the overrun of Jayce’s release— so he got up from his position to wipe him off.

He took care of Viktor: cleaned him out, wiped his body with warm water in a bowl and a makeshift cloth constructed from his old clothes, removed the sheet around Viktor, placed the blanket on the bed and allowed him to rest on it instead of the damp patch of evidence on the mattress, gave him a glass of water to drink whilst guiding him to sit up and, to top it all off, kissed him on the forehead when the he was done. Viktor, both shocked and grateful for the compassion, rested his head on Jayce’s chest and their arms reflexively reached out around one another.

After a minute of silent reflection within each other’s embrace, Viktor commended the act first: “This was…the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jayce softly smiled, lightly combing his fingers in Viktor’s hair, like a relieving massage. He thought to himself, I should have done this with him a long time ago. My past self is stupid for not taking that opportunity. He asked, “Really? Was it that good?”

“To be frank, I don’t think I’ll ever experience better,” Viktor sighed, raising his hand to caress Jayce’s bristled jaw, ”No one else in this world can exceed these expectations.”

Jayce almost snorted, thinking of the 24-year-old Jayce who was probably roaming around right about now, talking to younger Caitlyn. “You’d be surprised.”

A part of him wanted to know why Viktor only made a move on this version of himself and not the past Jayce. Should he really have grown out his hair and beard to seem more appealing? Should he have worked out more too? Jayce wanted to punch himself. He should have made the first move, then he and Viktor could have been romantically involved with more intimate moments together like this; he could have had more time to treat him right in bed and in their relationship. He could have bought him roses, spread the petals on his bed before sex, lit candles for a romantic atmosphere, prepared wine to accompany drunken confessions and announced to the world that they were partners both in out out of work. They could have been married—they’ve lived with each other for seven years, after all. He could have told him he was beautiful every single day. But Jayce lost all that time, so he did his best to cherish this one.

He tucked a strand of hair behind Viktor’s ear and said, “You’re so beautiful, all of you.”

Viktor’s smile faded, his eyes sparkling even more from tears threatening to escape. What was he thinking about to make him look so hurt? Why did a compliment of his appearance bring him pain? The young apprentice glanced at his cane and croaked, “Not for long.”

He was thinking about his disease, how it would make his body deteriorate like his 32-year-old self in Jayce’s reality. Now his body was infused with the Hexcore, body artificially consumed. But he was never ugly nor unattractive. He was never broken nor unlovable. The reason why Viktor became the ambitious, caring scientist everyone knew, was because of the unique flaws, the efficient, driven changemaker that saved Jayce’s life and stood by his side to make the world a better place.

“You’ll always be beautiful to me, Viktor.”

The praise made Viktor smile again, but more from reluctant, disbelieving gratitude. “Strange how I only met you today,” he said, “but I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

Jayce felt a prick of affection brim the corner of his eyes, concomitant with stressed wrinkles. “I feel the same way.”

****

They spoke of tender nothings throughout the next few minutes: Viktor’s journey to Piltover and becoming Heimerdinger’s assistant, how Jayce got the deep scar on his back and the injury in his leg (of course, he had to lie about both) and the wonders of what the world could be. They brushed skin, held hands, shared kisses as if they were a true couple.

Jayce wanted to stay in this moment forever, but he was bound to face reality eventually.

Viktor asked, “You wouldn’t mind giving me that drink you promised me at the bar, would you?”

“I would give you everything.” Jayce said, meaning every word, not caring if Viktor didn’t understand the seriousness of his countenance.

The Zaunite beauty teased, “That’s a bit egotistical, don’t you think?”

Jayce chuckled amusingly at the familiar phrase. “I’ll get you that drink.”

He made his way to the central table with bottles of liquor. He limped, but it was not as troublesome as before, like Viktor’s charming presence lifted all the excruciating weight from his body.

Jayce then noticed the vial nearby that the potion merchant sold to him. It then gave him a distressing reminder that he had a mission to accomplish here. This was the past and he needed to change it. If Viktor knew about the future version of Jayce, it would affect the timeline— Viktor would want to confront the 24-year-old Jayce and question why they looked so similar with the same name. However, if there was no workshop explosion, there would be an unlikely chance of them seeing each other.

if Jayce stopped the explosion, younger Jayce would not be expelled from the Academy. There would be no arrest, no suicide attempt, no need to be rescued… No meeting Viktor.

But even if the mission were successful, what would happen to him, 32-year-old Jayce, if he had to go back home? Jayce would not be in the Council anymore, but Viktor would likely still be in the Council Hall— this time as Heimerdinger’s assistant— when Jinx attacks. Viktor would have no Jayce to save him from.
He would die alone amidst that rubble.

Jayce felt his heart drop. If Jayce was missing from Viktor’s life, he’d have been dead. Just like Jayce would have died had it not been for Viktor. Yes, Viktor in present time was to be a Machine Herald, but at least he was alive, at least they existed together. They could not survive without one another.

“If you’re thinking immensely about the drink you want to offer me—” Viktor snapped Jayce from his thoughts. “— I assure you, I’m not picky.”

Jayce made his decision quickly, gears turning in his head. He gripped onto the vial on the table and decided. Viktor stretched his arms as Jayce brought him a slender glass filled with bubbling red wine. Jayce apologised, “Sorry, I was thinking of the best choice for you.”

“Any choice would have been the best,” Viktor said, happily accepting the glass, “I’m grateful to you either way.”

He took a long sip, downing the drink into his throat and swallowed with a satisfying hum. It had a sweeter taste to it, not like the wines he typically bought at bars. Perhaps it was a specialty from that bartender. Jayce took the glass from him and rested it on the floor.

“I wish you weren’t so grateful to me,” Jayce mumbled, “I could have treated you better.”

Viktor could not help but laugh giddily. “I told you this is the best thing I’ve ever experienced and you say you could have been better? You are raising my standards even higher.”

“And you better keep it that way.” Jayce leaned toward Viktor who held his hand as he yawned.

“Jayce, I’m feeling a bit tired.”

His hand held onto Viktor’s a bit tighter, a moment of panic and desperation. He knew this would be his goodbye to the past, the last chance he had to confront and confess from a time he would never get back. He intended to say nothing, to allow quiet affection to carry their final moments together. However, his intrusive impulses won over.

“Before you drift off,” Jayce said, compiling his final vow, “I just want you to know that I will never give up on you, Viktor. Not in this world, not in any reality. It’s so selfish of me, but I want to meet you in this life— in every lifetime—even if it risks the end of the world.”

Viktor’s eyes were drooping now, but the young apprentice still muttered in confused awareness, “Jayce, we literally… only had sex together...”

Jayce continued insistently while Viktor fought sleep, “I should have done this earlier with you. I shouldn't have been so obsessed with Hextech, when the real magic was in front of me for years.” He gripped the back of Viktor’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “When you become partners with the Jayce of your timeline, I wish you’d pursue me like you’ve done today.”

It seemed the realisation was setting on Viktor, the genius inventor placing the gears together and churning them in tandem to Jayce’s chain of promises. He acknowledged. “You’re from the future. I won’t… remember this.”

Jayce nodded and a tear ran down his face. Viktor reached for the time traveler, his hand helplessly rubbing his bicep in tired comfort. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“I love you, Viktor,” Jayce sobbed, a crashout of guilty, gut-wrenching regret.

Before he fell into his deep slumber, before Jayce could dress the both of them and take the snoring young apprentice back home to the Academy, Viktor made a promise of his own.

“I will love you too, Jayce.”

*****

“So how was the ol’ shakin’ in the sheets?” Loris laughed as Jayce returned from his room.

The bartender noticed that Jayce had been carrying a sleeping beauty in his arms, the same mechanic from earlier. They had made sure to get Viktor home safe. Now the Man of Progress was fully dressed with a cloak, bag and heavily-concealed object. It seemed he was not staying there a moment longer.

“It went well, thank you,” Jayce said, adjusting the strap of his bag, “but I think it’s about time I head out.”

Loris lifted a brow. “Wow, a hit-and-run. What a player. Will you be coming back?”

Jayce smiled. “I’ll always be here, but I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other for a while.”

They would unlikely meet again, but with an expected war arising in present day Piltover, perhaps they’d cross paths again in the fight to liberation. Loris sighed, glancing at the two sandwiches on the bar counter, “At least take this for the road. Something to remember me by.”

Jayce gladly accepted it, and took out the memory loss vial from his bag. “As my farewell, I’d like you to have this. Perhaps it may come in handy for you.”

He explained the contents of the potion and its side effects of memory loss, how one must be careful not to drink the entire vial in case of permanent memory erasure. Loris hummed, “I’m not sure if I’ll ever use it, but I appreciate the gift. Good luck in your future endeavours, Jayce.”

On the way to his old workshop, Jayce opened the sandwich bag Loris gave to him, thinking back to the time after the workshop explosion when the inspectors had reported pieces of bread, tomato and lettuce smeared on the walls in his room where the crystals had been stolen. Funny that. Jayce had been so confused back then because he did not remember leaving sandwiches in his room…

Jayce froze, glancing at the contents of the sandwich that perfectly fit the description of the report. What if… Jayce really did place it there, just not the Jayce of his time…?

He had established a new mission.

He would not stop the explosion. Rather, he would allow the thieves who stole his crystals to get away. To elaborate, he would help them steal the crystals. First he would place the sandwiches on the desk in his room to lure the thieves near the crystals on his desk, then he would prevent some enforcers from reaching them, their defender of sorts.

Jayce knew that there had been enforcers chasing after the culprits who blew up his workshop, but he had also heard rumours about some of them being mysteriously knocked out cold on their way to the chase. Jayce weighed the weapon in his hand. It did not take Hextech science for him to guess how that possibly could have happened.

Jayce initiated his plan immediately. He climbed rooftops and entered through a secret door to the workshop that only he knew about. He stole one of the crystals in the chest— his ticket back home— and carefully placed both full sandwiches on the blueprints in his room and left as quickly as he entered, then waited patiently outside to witness the action.

Jayce had taken Viktor home as the sun rose and now it was already noon, light shining brightly onto the building of his workshop. This was around the time the incident occurred. Apprentice Viktor would probably be awake by now, wondering why his body was aching more than usual and failing to decipher what had happened to him after pursuing a wounded stranger at a bar, then he’d have to receive a call about an explosion occurring downtown.

Jayce waited for the thieves to show and when they did, he could not believe his eyes. It was a group of four, all kids from Zaun with tattered clothing and untamed hair, including two girls: one with blue hair and the other a magenta-like hue…

Vi and Jinx.

Jayce could not help but laugh. The first laugh he had in a while. Everything made sense now— the explosive capabilities of Jinx’s weapons, Vi’s accustomed reaction to Hextech gloves, the threat to their sisterly fallout… There really was no such thing as coincidences; it’s crazy how everyone’s stories were connected, no matter the barriers of space and time. He watched as they broke into his balcony window and, minutes later, the explosion that followed.

Chaos broke out and the teenagers started running, enforcers following closely behind. Jayce moved to action. He gripped the tightly covered hammer in his hand, willing himself to hit without accidentally killing somebody. He ran in the alleyways with his repaired brace, breathing heavily as he knocked enforcers unconscious to the ground either by fist, hammer or strangling. Luckily, he was concealed by the cloak. Some enforcers caught on that he was defending the rebellious thieves, so he ran with his hammer through tunnels and narrow pathways. He quickly cranked the crystal within the wings of his Mercury Hammer, pulling the lever by twisting the can and feeling a familiar energy.

As the defender ran, he saw a shimmering glint in the air from his hammer— not an explosive shot, but an enlightenment of hexspace. Jayce knew it was the Arcane from that familiar tremble, an old shaking, ready to take him back home.

Jayce inhaled a sharp coolness from the anomaly, thinking of Viktor whilst being encapsulated in the spherical warp of dimensional shifting. When he returned home, he vowed to stop Hextech from succeeding its Glorious Evolution and he would get his partner to come back to him— Viktor, his everything— even if it was the last thing he would ever do.