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Jayce buys a record player two months into them living together.
It’s by convenience more than anything, the whole sharing a flat thing; they spend hours upon hours together everyday anyways, in the lab up to 16 hours a day. All they were doing by themselves was going home, having dinner - if they were lucky - and then falling into bed. Jayce lives through that for six months before the first real grant money from Cassandra Kiramman and Mel Merdada swoops in, and then he buys a flat down the street from the Academy. They go home alone for exactly four weeks after that, until Jayce suggests that Viktor might as well crash at his place for the night, he’s got a guest room.
It’s a guest room for three weeks, in which Viktor sleeps in the little bed every day, wakes up with Jayce and brushes his teeth at the same sink. At the Beginning of the fourth week, Jayce clears his throat, puts a cup full of sweetmilk on the table, and tells Viktor to move in.
“I own this place.” He says, “So you don’t need to pay rent. And you basically live here anyways. And it’s easier for both of us.”
So, Viktor moves in on a cold March Day, after a horrible series of rain showers that made them move the move-in date two times; one time due to the atrocious weather, and another because the stiff wetness made Viktors bad leg hurt so badly, he could barely move. He doesn’t have a lot to bring, just a bunch of his uniforms, and a few more cartons that Jayce carries up the one flight of stairs while complaining about the books Viktor’s moving in, because he has roughly the same sets.
“Only roughly” Viktor says, and Jayce groans with a smile, “Plus, my annotations are very complex, it’d take years to move them over, and you know that.”
“I know.” Jayce says, and opens up another case, “You didn’t mention you’re into music collection.” He says, and Viktor peeks into the box. It’s his collection of Vinyls, old and rarely ever-used. Not since a group of Academy Students maybe ten years back introduced a radically new way to record and keep music, from the popular Pop-Songs that everyone hums thanks to the Radios ever-present.
“I presume.” Viktor says, and they drop the topic.
They’re not even really his Vinyls. They belonged to his Parents, years and years ago, old tunes that they listened to when they met in Zaun, fell in love. He doesn’t really remember his father, but he can imagine it sometimes, from the way his Mother told the story as he was growing up. A man, taller than him, without the bad leg, meeting his already sick-then Mother, at some Bar where they only played this type of music. She had mentioned that she loved this kind of music, and for their next Date, his father had brought her a Vinyl. Here, his Mother would always laugh, tell his Father that she didn’t even own a player, and his father would laugh, too.
They never did get around to buying a record player, not with Viktor coming around not too long after, but they collected Vinyls. All those Vinyls that are now in his possession. He puts them back into the box and keeps them safely in his wardrobe for the time being. Maybe he’ll get around to buying a Vinyl Player one of those days.
Living with Jayce is incredibly easy.
They wake up at roughly the same time, brush their teeth next to each other in the sink. Jayce shaves every day, and Viktor puts product into his hair. They make coffee, and sweetmilk, and eat a Bagel that Jayce bakes when he gets restless at night; they talk about work before they get up and head to work. They have a strict rule of no work notes at their flat, which they disregard every single day; the walls in their living room are covered with blueprints and sketches, and notes, and work. Most days, they go home together.
On the days they don’t, whoever is home first makes tea and some kind of dinner. Sometimes, Jayce has to attend a function or the other, and he tries to make Viktor come with him. Sometimes, Viktor goes. Most times, he doesn’t, and those are the days he’d like to not go back to their Flat at all. It’s weird without Jayce, empty. He doesn’t much like it, alone in there, without Jayce’s warmth filling up every space, filling the thoughts in Viktors head.
One of those nights, he takes out the Vinyls and looks at all of them in the living room. Imagines his parents living together like he and Jayce are doing right now. It seizes his heart up so painfully that he doesn’t clean up the Vinyls at all. He just goes to bed.
The next day, when he wakes up and drags himself to the Kitchen for his morning Coffee and catching up with Jayce, all the Vinyls are neatly stacked on the coffee table in the Living Room. He doesn’t pay them much attention besides a quick promise to clean them up.
He lets Jayce ramble about Cassandra Kirammans party, complaining about the young, upstart Councillor Salo. Jayce doesn’t like him, and Viktor hasn’t met him, so he is fully unbiased in agreeing with whatever Jayce has to say about Salo.
“He was a little too interested in you” He says, and Viktor looks up, “Kept asking why I didn’t bring you, kept making snide comments about people from the Undercity. Said he saw you at the Bakery a while ago - as if someone like Salo would go to a Bakery. Especially one that we go to. Ridiculous." Jayce complains; he sounds almost a little….
"Jealous?" Viktor teases, and Jayce gives him a little shove, a grin on his lips.
“Can’t have some big shot steal you away, when I still definitely need you for the hexgates.” Jayce says, and they move on.
Two days later, when Viktor gets home, a brand-new table is in their living room.
Jayce had left the Lab early that day, citing some meeting he had to attend.
“You probably wouldn’t want to come.” He had said, “Super boring politics; Salo is gonna be there.”
That did sound like something Viktor did not want to go to, so he stayed behind and got in an additional three, four, six hours of work in; he half-debates staying the night in the Lab, but usually, when Jayce has these types of meetings, he does tend to bring home something to eat, and Viktor could really do with something sweet.
So, he steps into their flat, their shared flat, and finds a brand-new, tiny table in their living room; and on top of it, an, equally as brand-new, if Viktor had to guess, record player.
He can hear Jayce hum about in the kitchen, can smell the distinct smell of food being cooked, but his eyes are stuck on the Vinyl Player; and something else is new, too. A little box under the table. A storage box for Vinyls. He stares at it, turns back to the kitchen.
“Vik?” Jayce calls from the kitchen, and it rips Viktor out of his stasis, he turns to the sound and the smell, “Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry?” He asks.
It doesn’t leave Viktors head as they eat.
He doesn’t bring it up, though. Not sure how to; he’s never been one to be like this. An overthinker, sure. Acutely aware of his reputation, of how he is perceived, yes. But not struck by emotions like this; Jayce must have cleaned up the Vinyls the night he had left them strewn about, his feelings messed up and overwhelming him. Maybe he had seen music he liked. Maybe he had just thought Viktor might appreciate it.
Across him, Jayce is waving his hand ever so slightly, half a smile on his lips. He’s clearly been talking while Viktor has been deep in thoughts, and that realization has blood rushing to Viktors ear, breathing becoming a little harder for a second.
“What are you thinking about?” Jayce asks, pokes at his food, “Another equation? Did you continue with the Hexgates today after I left?”
“No, no.” Viktor says, “I was just thinking about… eh, you bought a Record Player?” He asks.
Jayces face lights up, and Viktor could swear that behind the honey-coloured skin, he is also turning red.
“There wasn’t a meeting today” Jayce admits, “I saw the Vinyls a few days ago, and I figured - you had them, but no player.” He adds, “And I know you well enough to know if you didn’t own one yet, you wouldn’t get one for yourself.”
“One thing interests me, though.” He says, “Why do you collect them, if you have no player?” He asks, and Viktor meets Jayces eyes. He could shake his head. Jayce would understand it. He always does; there’s topics they don’t yet talk to each other about, still in the beginning of their soft friendship, of this partnership. A little more than half a year of companionship.
Jayces eyes are soft, and warm, and inviting, and the gold of House Talis. The gold that has seeped into Viktors life. Gold like his cane, inviting like the fire in their fireplace, warm like the sweetmilk Jayce makes him in the morning if he wakes first. He almost always does.
“They belonged to my Parents.” Viktor explains, “They didn’t own a record player, and when they left them to me, I swore I was going to buy one. I just never did.”
“So the Vinyls have never been played?” Jayce asks, and Viktor shakes his head; they might have been, but never by his family. He doubts his father could have afforded them brand new, as is.
“Would you like to listen to them?” Jayce offers next. Viktor thinks about it for a few minutes, before he shakes his head to that, No, as well. He’s - not sure if he’s ready for that. For thinking about his parents, listening to their music. And if he did that, he thinks he’d like to do it alone. He voices as much to Jayce, and his Coworker, his Partner, his best Friend, just nods and offers that they could move the Vinyl Player into his room for the time being.
“I appreciate the Offer, Jayce.” He says, “I really do. But for now, No. You can buy new Vinyls, though. Maybe we could start our Own Collection, apart from the one I inherited.”
Time flows easily. All too soon, they’re celebrating one Year of Hextech, and soon after that, the one year anniversary of them living together. Jayce invites a few friends over to celebrate. Caitlyn, a few people he went to School with, and the ever beautiful Mel Merdada. Viktor watches them flirt all night and stand by the Record Player. They use it, every now and then. Jayce has started collecting Vinyls. Viktor has bought One.
They conceptualize the Hexgates, and about twenty five other projects. Some for the betterment of Zaun, some for improvement of working conditions. The Council denies every single one but the Hexgates and tells them to focus on that.
Jayce stops talking about Mel Merdada with the same starry eyes, after that.
Outwardly, Viktor would say that it’s a shame. They’d make a good couple; she’s smart, and straight-forward. It’d pair well with Jayces averseness to conflict, with his need to please. But inside, in his heart, he’s glad that infatuation seems to be over.
He likes living together with Jayce, just them in their flat. He can admit, he’s a little obsessed with keeping it that way. A little possessive of their shared space - a little possessive of Jayce.
He’s a little possessive of their shared meals, though they are becoming less and less as Jayce climbs the ranks of Piltover’s social ladder, still asking for Viktor to accompany him. But Viktor does so, less. With Jayce’s newfound popularity, his already small one starts to dwindle. Nobody wants to see their Golden Boy next to a Zaunite Cripple.
So, he is a little possessive of what he has left.
They wake up together, still. Take their coffee and sweetmilk in the kitchen. Debate about getting a pet.
“We’re here too little.” Viktor says, “You’d never see a cat, Jayce.”
He delights in Jayce’s little pout, but there is genuine sadness behind his eyes, so Viktor is quick to add a little nudge, a small tease.
“You can’t make me a Single Parent just yet.”
Jayce’s face lightens up at that, and he rolls his eyes, shakes his head before he clears his throat. He does that a lot when he’s nervous, Viktor learned over the past two years.
“There’s this Party Councillor Shoola is throwing.” He starts, stops, clears his throat again, “Before you Say No - it’s a themed Party, so at least - hear me out, alright?” He asks.
Councillor Shoola isn’t the worst of them; by now, Viktor’s had the misfortune of meeting Salo, who was sleazy and unkind and offered him a handjob over a glass of noxian wine, pro-bono, of course. He hadn’t liked Viktors shocked No.
Shoola doesn’t care for the Undercity, but she also doesn’t despise it; so, she’s not the worst of them by a long shot. Some, like Hoskel, actively look down on Viktor. Shoola only does so, passively. Not the Worst One.
But Jayce is clearly nervous about this, so it must be some grandiose Theme, or a Theme that is really, really awful.
“Entertain me.” Viktor says, takes a sip of his sweetmilk, “Go on, Jayce.”
“It’s a Party themed around Music. Uhm, the Music you have your Vinyls from; the ones from your Parents.” He explains, tugs at the Collar of his Shirt, the Cravat tucked neatly in. They wear matching ones now. Talis Red.
Ah.
“So I figured, it would be nice for you to attend. It’s not an outlandish theme, but something you could enjoy as well.” He adds, “You got your own invite, too.” He finishes, and pulls out a burgundy envelope, sealed with the crest of Shoola’s house. In expensive, golden paint, the Envelope reads Viktor of the Undercity .
“I told her, she could have just written Viktor.” Jayce says, shakes his head a little, “But, she insisted.”
Viktor stares at the Envelope for a few moments, before he puts it to the side.
“I will think about it, Jayce.” He says.
That night, after they get home from the Lab and have said their Goodnights, Viktor opens the box with the Vinyls he had inherited from his parents, again. He looks at them, and allows himself to imagine it once again. His parents, dancing to the Music, laughing. Collecting them, but still going out to dances.
He takes a deep breath and opens the door to his room, clutching one of the Vinyls in his hand, and waits for the telltale sound of Jayce’s snoring to know if he can be undisturbed for a moment. It filters through the door and the corridor, as it does every night.
Cane in one hand, the Vinyl in the other, Viktor sneaks into the living room.
He fumbles with the Record Player for a few moments before he gets one of the Vinyls into it, sets down the needle, and presses Play; blissful silence for the first seconds, then worrying silence. For a moment, he’s afraid the Vinyl might be defunct, and he almost loses his cool completely. His parents bought that one together. It would sour their memory if they got scammed, poor people from Zaun that couldn’t even have listened to it if they tried and bought a record player..
But then, thankfully, music begins to emit from the Record Player, quiet and unsteady. Viktor sits back on the Couch, and, for the first time, he listens to the Music his Father gifted his Mother.
In his imagination, the pictures he sees don’t stay as his parents, though. Slowly, they morph into Jayce buying the Record Player for Viktor to listen to music on it. They morph into slow mornings with music playing, into Jayce humming tunes. Jayce convincing Shoola to invite Viktor to her Party, too, because of the theme. Into maybe even them dancing to the music, Jayces hand on his back, big and strong, helping his ever worsening posture. Into…
Jayce awake, standing in the doorway to his room, eyes bleary and only wearing pants. Viktor takes in his broad chest for a moment, before he quickly adverts his gaze, cheeks turning bright pink. Thankfully, he’s sure Jayce can’t see it in the dim light.
“Vik?” Jayce asks, sounding endearingly sleepy. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, leans against the door again, “What time is it?”
“Did I wake you?” Viktor asks, leans forward to turn the music off, “I apologize, Jayce. I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to listen to some music.” He says, watches as Jayce slowly but surely walks up to him, sits next to him on the Couch, “I can stop.”
“No, it’s okay” Jayce says, rubs his eyes with a yawn.
His arms are around the back of the couch, and he looks at Viktor out of one eye, half a smile on his lips, tired and exhausted, clearly. “Do you mind if I listen along for a bit?”
Instead of an answer, Viktor leans forward and turns the music back on. They listen in silence for a few moments, some songs.
“Is that one of yours?” Jayce asks, he sounds like he’s half-asleep again.
“My parents. My father gifted this to my mother when they met.” He says, and Jayce smiles, “It was time I finally sat down and listened.” He adds; Jayce reaches out a little, Viktor understands the offer without any words.
They’re close anyways, they do this sometimes. Less now, but Viktor lets Jayce tuck him under his arms anyways, pretends he doesn’t notice the featherlight kiss pressed to his hair. Not very friendlike, and he knows they’re both aware of it. They both don’t care, though. At least he doesn’t.
“It’s nice.” Jayce says, holds him there. Silence returns, and before the Vinyl even starts to spin out, needing a flip, Jayce is already snoring softly against Viktors head. His back will kill him in the morning, Viktor knows it will, but he leans forward and flips off the Record Player - and chooses to fall asleep there, too.
It becomes a ritual for them, afterwards. Listening to music tucked against each other like that, food on their lap most times, or falling asleep depending on the time of day.
Jayce buys more Vinyls. Viktor moves his to the Living room. They buy a shelf for them, and order them around depending on their mood.