Chapter Text
Viktor walks down a long corridor with cells lining one side, each one separated by a thick wall. The awkward clicking of his cane is the loudest sound as the bored prison guard leads him to the cell that he will very soon call as his.
He feels numb all over, the ringing in his ears too loud for him to focus on even a single thought.
Asking stupid questions like, “how did it happen?” would be entirely useless. Since when did enforcers need a reason to pick on people from Zaun?
He definitely wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last. Wrong place at the wrong time, a pushy piltie customer in Singed’s lab screaming and making a fuss on how the old man was surely a crook that was scamming him on the dose of a (mind you, illegal ) drug he ordered. Viktor’s boss didn’t even entertain the man, he just rolled his eyes and walked to the back of the shop, telling Viktor to deal with it.
So he tried. He tried talking the man down, called to his reason, and offered him a discount… Honestly there’s only so much a man can do for a demanding and obnoxious customer.
The noise, however, lured in some enforcers patrolling nearby.
And they were way less willing to ask questions than even the rude piltie. Viktor was pushed in the back of the cart faster than he had a chance explaining that the sketchy shop wasn’t even his.
He didn’t cry.
The process (if it even could be called that) was quick and uneventful. Found guilty with the sentence of two years in the Stillwater prison.
For him, it meant death. Brutal, long, and painful.
He didn’t protest.
The enforcer drags him by the elbow into the cell with no sympathy for his bad leg, only worsening his limp. There’s a hulking shadow sitting on the opposite cot; his assigned cell already had someone in it.
With shaking hands he starts putting the minimal amount of stuff he has on the empty bed, bile rising up in his throat. The cruel looking enforcer clangs at the bars of his cell with a baton, sneering.
“You like your new toy, Defender? Try not to break it too fast, it would be a waste of fresh meat.” He cackles lecherously, making some more noise.
Viktor wants to throw up.
The other man, however, doesn’t spare him a second glance, just fixing the guard with a cold stare as the other laughs. Viktor tries very hard not to think about the nickname nor the enforcer’s delight about his placement. His happiness could only mean Viktor’s inevitable misery.
Without getting any reaction, the guard bores himself and leaves, dragging his baton along the bars of the other cells he passes.
Viktor’s body goes rigid with tension, posture stiff and unmoving. He tries to control his breathing, ready himself for the moment the stranger’s hand will wrap around his arm, waist. For the moment when he’s gonna be pulled into another body forcefully…
But then a minute passes. And another.
Nothing happens.
Viktor is almost not moving at all with how slowly he turns, scared that any sudden movement might get the Defender’s attention on him. Hoping by some miracle that he forgets about Viktor’s presence here.
But when he glances at the man, he's sitting peacefully with his back propped on the wall, eyes closed.
He looks menacing, rugged in a way that would maybe be handsome if it wasn't so terrifying. His knuckles are bloody, brow freshly split, beard wild. His clothes look seemingly clean but torn and old. Viktor refuses to think about the bulging muscles underneath them, how there would be no real fight between them; he'd be snapped in half in a second. He would have no choice but to bend to the man’s will or his life would be taken with one snap of the man’s wrist.
Then, as if feeling Viktor's gaze on him, the man opens his eyes. Viktor is paralyzed by shock and fear.
This is the first time they make eye contact, really looking at each other as they do. Anyone would treat such a bold move as a challenge for their position, their authority. He's making a mistake that's gonna cost him his life, he's sure of it. Stupid, so fucking stupid.
But... the man's eyes are sharp. Intelligent. (Captivating.) Deep gold irises that look Viktor up and down like he's a potential opponent, a threat, and not a piece of meat. That alone makes Viktor's heart slow its frantic rhythm.
"I'm Jayce." The man speaks unexpectedly, making Viktor flinch for the first time. It's not that his voice is unpleasant, if a bit rough, but talking with the man somehow makes the whole situation feel way more real. He's not ready for it to be real.
Well, he doesn't have much choice, does he?
"Viktor." He offers quietly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
For the man to get up and force himself on him, or to beat him up for staring like an idiot in the first place. Jayce does neither.
He just nods, closing his eyes again.
"They will call us to the canteen soon, dinner time. Stay close, alright?"
***
It's unnerving the way everybody looks at Viktor. Though it does make Jayce happy that the man is staying in close proximity. He lets Jayce move into his orbit, be it standing somewhere on his left, walking a step in front of him or sitting at the same table as they eat.
It's the opposite end of the table where Vi and him sit, but he still listened to Jayce’s advice. He's eating his food slowly, not looking up.
Jayce is glad. The way other inmates stare at him...
He can't help the protective instinct screaming inside his head. Not many things regarding Zaun and its people are fair, but sentencing a man like Viktor to the damn Stillwater is a death sentence. He won't be able to survive a day alone. Unless…
By the way Vi is looking at him he knows that she has already picked up on his train of thought. And by the face she's making he also knows that she doesn't like it at all.
She often tells him that he has too much of a bleeding heart for this place. Jayce thinks she's just as soft as him and that's why she hates that part of his personality with such viciousness.
"We're gonna look weak." She warns him, jaw tense.
He can only shrug, caring about it less than he probably should. They might look weak, but they both know they’re not. And this godforsaken place would do well to remember that for more than a few weeks at a time…
"We won't. Give me a reason." He tells her their call phrase and she frowns. Giving Jayce a reason to start a fight was usually her favorite part of the whole position establishing. It doesn’t seem like that today.
"There can't be a brawl now. You need to be in the cell." With him goes unsaid. Jayce hates when she's right.
Then, Vi's eyes fly above his shoulders, and they widen with a cold fury filled with such strength that he has only seen on her a handful of times before.
"Found a reason." Her voice is deadly quiet and makes Jayce turn to search for the cause of her agitation.
The only new face is a huge looking bald guy, covered in tattoos, and eating alone.
"Past calls?" He asks.
She just cracks her neck, getting up from her seat. She never was one to waste time.
"Something like that." She murmurs, grabbing her metal tray, steps quick and sure as she crosses the distance. Heads turn as she walks, but it’s pointless. The guy doesn't have time to raise his head as Vi brings her tray down on his face with so much force the whole room rattles.
Blood splatters around the man’s unfinished meal.
In the chaos that follows, Jayce immediately places himself behind Viktor at a distance that leaves the man comfortable with his personal space but close enough that no one can reach him without Jayce noticing.
Viktor is frozen mid bite for a moment, eyes huge and taking in the unraveling horrors in front of them. The running inmates, guards, flying food.
Then, his head snaps back in a gesture that is like a second nature for the people born in the undercity. Jayce had to be quick to learn it on his own when someone creeped up behind him during his first day here with a knife in hand. He met Vi and her fist made of steel the same day.
There's panic in Viktor's eyes for a second when he realizes there's somebody else standing behind his seat, but it eases just a fraction when he recognizes Jayce's face. It’s an odd feeling; to bring someone comfort with your presence.
He’s obviously a fool. Viktor just prefers the devil he knows.
"We need to get back. Can you move?" Jayce feels like a jerk asking him that but Viktor only nods, pushing his tray away and getting up from his seat. In front of them, Vi is being dragged away from the unconscious or most likely dead man by three enforcers, while other guards try to pacify the bloodthirsty crowd before it causes real trouble.
Viktor moves quite swiftly despite his cane, but it might be the adrenaline carrying him. Jayce is next to him, making sure no one touches them as they leave the dining area, people getting out of their way either by being fast enough or by getting shoved away by Jayce's unforgiving hands.
Soon enough, they're out.
There's a few guards directing the inmates to their cells but most of them are rushing to the canteen where the crowd is wreaking havoc.
They reach their place without trouble and Jayce feels himself relax slightly, an idea that many years ago would have made him scoff at himself.
Getting back into his cell. Relaxing.
That’s however the unfortunate truth of being a prisoner in Stillwater. Anywhere else in the building he feels constantly on alert, ready to swing and punch or block and roll. Here the cement walls give him a much needed break from covering his blind spots, a luxury of solitude that was impossibly rare in this sorry place.
Or rather, it was a luxury, and now it was a dream of the past. Because now there was another person in his cell and there’s no getting back his comfortable loneliness.
The whole thing is, however, complicated. Because the man who lives with him in this cell is in a way worse situation than he is.
Jayce can see the terror in Viktor’s eyes, the way his whole body tenses, both when they’re alone and when they walk among the other prisoners.
His face is calculating and reserved, but his body can’t keep up with the act. He’s stiff like a bowstring ready to snap. Both hands clenched into fists so hard Jayce can make out the details of each bone through the skin stretched over the knuckles. The hand holding the cane is shaking visibly.
He sits down and sighs heavily, feeling the weight of the world crushing his shoulders. He knows how he looks, he knows his reputation. Viktor doesn’t even need to know his history to figure out who Jayce is; a damn brute.
He feels guilty, but not too much.
One has to be violent in order to survive here. Viktor, too pretty for his own good, with an unfortunately weak body and calculating mind should not be here. Everyone in this place is already circling around him like sharks, kept at bay only by Jayce and Vi’s close proximity. Viktor wouldn’t survive a day on his own, and his delicate lips, now pressed into thin stressed lines, told Jayce that he knew that too.
But there was pride in him as well. A dangerous thing to cling to, but Jayce could see it in his eyes. He was ready for death but he would not let its shadow consume him before it happened.
He was a fighter in every aspect but the physical one.
Very slowly and with his hands hanging loosely at his sides, Jayce takes the tiniest step closer.
There’s an immediate reaction in Viktor’s whole posture, his shoulders rising protectively, eyes darting to the exit before they come back to Jayce’s own sad gaze. They both breathe quietly for a few seconds before Jayce speaks.
“Me and Vi, the canteen girl, are close friends. We watch each other’s backs and we fight for each other. There’s not many things more valuable in prison than allies. We… I would be very happy if you, well, if you decided to stick with us. The choice is, obviously, up to you but… yeah.” He finishes lamely, not sure what else to add.
Viktor’s face scrunches up for a second, a shadow of distress crossing it, but he’s fast in reigning it back in. Jayce knows that what he asked for is not easy. To trust a complete stranger to help you get through this hell… Viktor was obviously from the Undercity, and because he learned a lot from Vi, Jayce knows that the man is probably thinking about what the catch is.
As she once told him, there were no random acts of kindness down there where they grew up. Jayce hates to think about how it has to be true for the man in front of him as well.
The look in Viktor’s eyes is somehow… angry. Jayce feels like a fool. Of course Viktor would think of Jayce’s proposition as condescending and insulting, probably a jab aimed at his disability. Jayce wholeheartedly wishes to avoid it but there’s no good way to go about it. Besides, he doesn’t really know Viktor, and he can’t show weakness in front of him just in case the man is hiding something dangerous. Thinking about it—
“I accept your… proposition.” Viktor’s voice shakes Jayce out of his thoughts. He looks at the man, surprised, but finds only steel in his gaze. “And thank you for your assistance earlier. I won’t forget it.” There’s slight hesitancy in Viktor’s words, but his tone is earnest.
Jayce allows himself a small smile.
Maybe he did make the right decision.
***
It’s barely an hour after the lights get turned off. Viktor lies awake, counting down from a hundred as he tries to calm down his breathing.
He’s waiting for Jayce to get up and come to him. He knows that it has to happen, he agreed to it after all.
Viktor is many things, but he’s not stupid. If a menacingly looking guy in prison offers you his protection, there’s precious little you can give him back for it. And Viktor knows that his body is the only currency he has right now.
Well, not even his entire body, he thinks bitterly. Just his holes. The rest is skin and bones.
He suppresses the nausea building up within him with another set of calming breaths.
He should call himself lucky, actually. If the guy hadn’t found him particularly appealing in the first place, he’d probably get dragged somewhere the moment he set a foot outside of their cell. He could even be dead by now, or so brutally violated that he’d lie somewhere wishing for said death to take him.
Instead he was offered a deal. Promised protection. He’d be a prison wife but one man taking him would be better than an assault of a hundred. One man could tire more easily, one man meant more time for Viktor to gather his pieces back together between each time he’d have to pay the price for protection.
He could end up way worse. The man was handsome, the type of beauty that if taken care of and polished could definitely get him somewhere far in Piltover. The type of beauty Viktor would observe over the rim of a glass in a bar, trying to gather the courage to approach such a man.
But this wasn’t a bar and it wasn’t a different life. It was a small dingy cell in Stillwater and Viktor was as good as dead without this man’s protection.
Things really could be much worse and yet the thought is not comforting at all and Viktor feels like crying.
He’s grateful that Jayce hasn’t gotten up to take his payment yet. He’s scared because he knows he’s on borrowed time. Jayce is being awfully nice, probably giving him the time to gather the courage and prepare himself mentally. Viktor realizes that he’s giving him a chance to come to him on his own . He’s probably waiting for Viktor to be smart enough to take initiative; just as Jayce did from the moment they ended up together, protecting him from the other inmates.
Well, he did look like the type of man who prefers to use the carrot first, before he reaches for the stick. Viktor, however, is not about to test just how deep his patience runs. From his experience, no one got too much of that to spare down here.
He steels himself, taking the last deep breath before he gets up. The sooner he’ll just move and do it the faster it’s gonna be over.
***
Jayce is slowly nodding off, laying on his back.
He’s trying to run various math problems in his head to relax himself enough to get some rest, but it’s easier said than done.
Another person breathing in his cell is making his body tense involuntarily, and he knows there’s not much to be done about it but get used to it.
He’s so done with just… everything. The tiredness that clings to his bones however feels more like a result of a mental fatigue than a bodily exertion. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall. There’s something unknown tugging at the back of his consciousness.
Just when he’s about to slip under, he hears Viktor rise up from his cot.
He finds himself laying wide awake once more, hearing strained. Maybe the other is just up to take a piss? Maybe he’s uncomfortable on the hard wood with a barely-there mattress and wants to change positions? Jayce remembers his first night here. He can definitely sympathize.
Or maybe his leg is in pain? Or his back? Jayce noticed that there was a brace-
There’s a soft exhale somewhere above him and then he feels his bed dip next to his right hip.
Jayce moves like a striking viper once the light weight settles down on his stomach, one hand circling Viktor’s forearm, the other grabbing the man’s waist.
In the low light from the corridor Jayce can see Viktor’s face, his huge eyes staring at him and the genuine fear in them. They look at each other for a few seconds, both breathing hard from the unexpected adrenaline.
“What,” Jayce’s voice is rough, and swallowing doesn’t help, “the fuck are you doing?”
Viktor’s eyes widen even more, and he yanks back on instinct. Jayce however cannot let him move freely now, not when he came to him like that, violating the thin peace they established.
Jayce looks him up and down, trying to calm down his wildly beating heart and assesses the situation. There’s no weapon in Viktor’s hands or anywhere around. He’s just sitting above Jayce’s hips, his barely there weight shaking like a leaf.
Jayce’s fingers circle his bony wrist to the point of overlapping. His grip is a tad too tight but Jayce can’t allow himself to become soft now. Not when Viktor is a potential threat.
His face is however so pale and terrified that Jayce loosens the clasped palm just the tiniest bit. Damn it.
“Viktor.” He tries to speak calmly despite his thrumming pulse. “Can you tell me what’s going on? What are you doing?”
Viktor is unmoving, however silent tears fall from his huge, unblinking eyes. Jayce needs to almost physically stop himself from having a reaction, from trying to hold Viktor closer and offer some comfort.
He’s not stupid. He knows that he’s the most obvious reason for the other’s distress.
“Do not insult my intelligence.” Viktor’s voice is shaky, his chin wobbly, but the words are sure. He puts his free hand up and tries to push at Jayce’s chest. The man lets him, but only so far that he can slide a tiny bit down his thighs and so Jayce can sit straighter, still towering over him, still alert. Viktor, smartly, doesn’t try to put more distance between them, just shrinking into himself.
“I know what it means when one offers you their protection in prison. I might be crippled but I’m not stupid. Just get on with it.” There’s a resigned look in his eyes, which are hollow and exhausted. Jayce feels something roll in his stomach.
Vi was right. No one did anything for free in the undercity and Viktor knew it well. He was fully prepared for the same fate that Jayce tried to spare him from.
Jayce pushes a hand up his hair, face scrunched in anger and worry. He can feel Viktor stiffen.
“No. Viktor, it’s not… it’s not what this was about.” He sighs heavily, but Viktor only scoffs at him, angrily wiping off the still falling tears.
“Stop trying to be nice about it. I told you, I’m not fucking stupid, I agreed to it, haven’t I? I won’t start screaming if that’s what you’re worried about, I’ll fucking behave alright? So just… just stop whatever this is and take what you want.”
Viktor turns his face away from Jayce and just about everything in this move feels tragic and heartbreaking.
Jayce hates himself and his wretched mind for entertaining the thought of touching Viktor like that for even a moment. It’s terrifying, how he might have turned into one of these scumbags sentenced here just by spending too much time among them. Once, an idea like that would be unfathomable. Disgusting, wrong.
Now he’s seen and survived enough to spare a second for pointless lust. Viktor’s beauty is just ethereal like that. It’s very human to want to touch, to take it for himself.
He tries very hard to remember the man he once was.
“No.” He shakes his head like a dog, catching Viktor’s surprised stare as he whips his head back.
“What?”
“I said no. I’m not gonna touch you like that. I told you it’s not what this is about.” He reaches his hand slowly but steadily, holding Viktor’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He can feel the man swallow. “You’re under my protection. Vi’s too. If anyone touches you, it’s my business. You want to pay me back, be even? Trade your gym shifts with me for the canteen duty. Call yourself my property if anyone asks and don’t let them think that me taking you was a sign of weakness. Do we have an understanding now?”
He can feel Viktor shiver at the authority in his tone, and it’s enough to finally make him release his face. The man has stopped crying but his expression is still wary.
“I… don’t really understand why you wouldn't touch me.” He winces like he didn’t mean to say it at all, like it slipped, a question circling over and over in his mind for a tad too long.
“Not who I am or ever wanna be. Please just… don’t push.” It’s all Jayce can offer but Viktor takes it, mulls it over for a few seconds and then reluctantly nods.
“Alright, I… thank you.” He seems lost, and it makes Jayce shake his head.
“Don’t thank me yet. It’s gonna be hard, harder than you probably expect. You have a friend in me, for what it’s worth, I see that you have a sharp mind. Just… don’t pull a stunt like that again. I don’t like being surprised, alright?”
Viktor nods, and there’s a faint blush spreading on his cheeks. Jayce stares and drinks up the sight. It’s unexpected to see such a gorgeous face here. Viktor makes it hard for him to focus, which he already knows is gonna turn troublesome.
“I won’t, I’m sorry. I see now how it might have looked from your perspective. You could have killed me and asked questions later.” He mumbles, and Jayce snorts shortly. The tiniest bit of tension between them disappears.
It doesn’t last for long, as Viktor turns his gaze down and starts picking at the thread of his sleeve, visibly nervous.
“If… if you rely on my mind then I must say… It’s not gonna look good when I walk out of here with just my usual limp in the morning.” His voice is hesitant, eyes careful as he regards Jayce’s reaction.
And he’s right. Jayce hates to admit it but everybody in Stillwater expects him to maul his new inmate and stake his claim more firmly than just how he did during the day. It’s not only expected of him, but it’s necessary for his position here. That thought was always somewhere at the back of his mind but only now did he understand fully what it meant.
There was one solution and it required a big leap of faith and the levels of playing pretend he wasn’t sure he could pull off on his own.
“You need to mark me.” Viktor’s words turn the whole world to a halt.
Jayce blinks and stares at him, because he was thinking about possible solutions and it crossed his mind for a second but… for Viktor to propose it? When he was just moments ago crying from frustration and fear? He might be tougher than Jayce gave him credit for.
“I… well, that would make it all believable, but it’s not enough.” Jayce rubs at his left wrist, leather bracelet hiding his skin. “We’ll need to commit more. Prepare for me sitting closer, putting my arm around you, touching you in general. Only that would make others believe you’re off limits. Do you understand, Viktor?”
He needs that confirmation. He needs to know that Viktor understands how their life’s gonna look from now on.
It’s hypocritical of him, really. Jayce is aware that he is most likely not ready for it at all.
But Viktor, brave, gorgeous Viktor, just nods.
“Yeah. I… I think I trust you. Stupid, I know.” Viktor pulls the collar of his shirt to the side and Jayce’s eyes zeros on the pale, mole dotted skin. Oh god, he was definitely not ready for this, not at all, not ever, fuck, what has he done? “Start somewhere high.”
In seconds, Jayce’s mouth is full of saliva. He tries to swallow but it’s useless, the sight making all of his thoughts disappear into one chaotic mess.
Viktor is offering him such a vulnerable place on a silver platter. It would make stronger men weak in their knees. And Jayce is hungry, was born hungry, and to dangle a feast like that right in front of his face… He can feel his jaw ache.
Viktor notices him clenching his fists on the thin blanket and he carefully reaches for his hand, putting it on his forearm.
“We need as many marks as we can. Just hold on to me, I bruise quite easily. Alright?” Viktor’s trembling slightly, but his gaze is searching, full of hope. Jayce feels like Atlas, forced to bear the weight of the responsibility of other’s trust on his shoulders. He’s not sure he won’t break under it.
“Alright.” He forces through his tight throat, voice too low and raspy to try and hide it. They keep eye contact for five more seconds, and then Jayce descends.
It’s dizzying, all that milky skin right in his face. The slightly sweet scent of Viktor assaulting his senses, the sight of his pulse fluttering under the particularly delicate area of his chin. He feels slightly crazed, breathing hard through his nose, eyes closing themselves to sink even more in the realm of ViktorViktorVIKTOR.
Fingers holding the man’s arm tighten, free hand flying to support Viktor’s back. Jayce’s teeth are in his neck and he doesn’t even know how it happened.
Viktor makes a sound, the tiniest little mewl which makes Jayce bite harder. A hand tangles itself in his hair but Viktor doesn’t tug him away, he just holds.
Jayce is panting through his nose as if he ran a mile. It doesn’t help him to clear his mind at all, his whole world narrowing to the man in his arms.
All he can taste is Viktor, all he can feel, all he can smell. There’s blood in his mouth, and he realizes he might have broken Viktor’s skin with his too sharp canines.
Unclenching his jaw is a herculean effort. The little whine of relief that Viktor lets out almost makes him chomp right back. There’s however that barely audible voice in his head, the one that he almost cannot hear through the static hum of blood in his ears. It’s telling him to calm down, to not hurt the other, to not break the trust.
It’s easier said than done after having a taste. Jayce dreams of nothing else but dragging Viktor under the covers so he can eat him whole. It’s a pull coming from the most primitive, primal part of his brain.
He focuses on licking around the slowly oozing wound, an apology. Viktor in his arms shivers, small hand in his hair tightening, still not yanking him away. It’s a good thing; Jayce doesn’t know what he would do if deprived of that divine taste right now. He feels more animal than human. More predator than man.
He trades the licks for slow kisses. He can’t remember why his brain is signaling to him that it’s a terrible idea, so he ignores it and moves to the parts of skin that look awfully bare.
He fixates on a beauty mark he finds there. He sucks the skin until it turns purple and the warm body pressed to him trembles with tiny hiccups. He rubs the irritated skin with his beard just to get more of those barely audible gasps.
He feels drunk, so lightheaded he doesn’t remember where he is. Everything is quiet around them and yet Jayce’s brain is so loud, so full of Viktor that he can barely think.
Viktor…
Viktor?
Jayce removes his head from the man’s shoulder with a loud smack of his lips. It’s a way too loud sound, interrupted only by their heavy breathing.
Jayce is staring at Viktor’s neck, unable to move, unable to make eye contact with the man. Oh god. He looks like he got mauled by a wild animal, all teeth and bloody bruises. All scratches and bites.
It’s still so, so quiet all around them. Just their heavy breathing filling the space, heavy with the weight of what just happened.
Viktor is first to move, clearing his throat and tugging his hand out of Jayce’s grasp. The other releases him so fast, as if burned.
The shape of his fingers is as prominent on the pale skin as if he had used flames on Viktor.
“I think… I think that’s gonna be sufficient.” Viktor’s voice is strained, tight. His pupils are blown wide when Jayce risks a glance up. He can barely see the honey like irises. “The clothes cover… cover the rest.”
Jayce just nods, eyes falling down again to the marked skin. The knowledge that he’s the one responsible makes him dizzy.
Or maybe he’s lightheaded because of how much blood is currently flowing to his dick, making his pants bulge obnoxiously. There’s absolutely no hiding his erection, and Viktor is already staring.
Jayce forces himself to take a steadying breath before he slowly grabs Viktor by the hips and lifts him up from his thighs to reposition the other on the edge of the cot, ignoring the man’s shocked expression.
“Get some rest.” He rasps, laying down and turning away before he does something stupid.
All he wants is to press himself closer to Viktor, bite him harder, rut into him until he’s satisfied. He wants to really call the other his and he wants to be able to break the hands of anyone who dares to reach for the man.
It was a mistake. Proposing this whole deal to Viktor was such a mistake.
He’s tense and unmoving, obviously alert, waiting for Viktor to leave. There’s no sound for a long minute and then, finally, the small weight is lifted from his mattress. Jayce allows himself the tiniest breath of relief as he listens to Viktor’s limping steps, until he finally hears the rustle of the covers.
He closes his eyes, still tasting the sweat and blood of the other.
Sleep doesn’t take him until many hours after, a divine punishment for commiting the sin of greed.
***
Viktor mastered control over his breathing when he was just a child.
In and out, just in and out, ignore the throb of his shoulder, the sting of countless bites, ignore the heat rolling in his tummy, the seeping wetness of his underwear.
Just in and out. Refusing to think about how easy it was to get manhandled by Jayce. How right it was to have his mouth, hands on him. Teeth in him.
Just in and out, he must not give in to the temptation, he can not touch himself. It was a blessing for him to not be violated, he can not be ungrateful, he must not play with fate. There might be something wrong with Jayce, that’s probably why he didn’t take it further, that’s why he ignored his obvious hardness. There might be something awful he’s hiding, Viktor shouldn’t poke the bear and risk his life for a few moments of pleasure.
His tongue was so warm.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
***
The next morning is just about as hard as Jayce thought it was gonna be.
He wakes up achingly hard and the smell of Viktor still clinging to his sheets and body. The other man is already trying to change clothes quietly, so Jayce turns away, giving him the little bit of privacy he can. Memories from last night dance in front of his eyes and he clenches his fists hard enough to will them away with the help of sharp pain.
It’s all useless once he gets up to get ready himself. He risks a glance at Viktor who is sitting at the edge of his bed, fidgeting and playing with his hands and he immediately regrets it.
Mouth dry, he observes in the morning light coming from the windows outside of their cell his work from the night before.
Bruises on the side of Viktor’s neck are in all shades between red and purple. The wound after Jayce’s bite looks both better and worse than he feared it would. The skin is clearly pierced and tender but it’s less messy than Jayce worried, as well as lacking any infection. He still makes a mental note to take Viktor to see the nurse.
Viktor looks at him from under his lashes, trying and failing to not appear nervous.
“Good morning.” He tries, voice steady if a bit weak. Jayce just nods his head.
“Morning.” He takes his shirt off, throwing it somewhere and not caring where it lands. He sees Viktor’s eyes widen and he tries to ignore the nauseous feeling that rises in him.
He knows how he looks with the amount of scars that litter his body, fading bruises, hair he can’t bother to trim or shave anymore. There was a time when he waxed his chest whenever he could. It’s a thought so ridiculous now he almost smirks.
He turns back once he puts another shirt on. The day awaiting already feels way too long.
“Are you still fully prepared for… everything?” He checks, trying to make himself as small and unthreatening as possible, mimicking Viktor’s pose and also taking a seat on his bed across from the other man.
Viktor nods, meeting his eyes with an honest look.
“I’m ready. As much as I can be, if you have my back I have yours. We have a good cover.” He rubs absentmindedly at his wrist, where the shape of Jayce’s fingers are still visible, unmistakable bruises formed by his own hands. It makes something hot run down to his stomach but Jayce kills the thought before it takes a shape.
“Alright. Let’s keep moving then, Vi is probably already waiting for us. We will go to the showers after breakfast, there’s less people there.”
The cells get opened and closed every day at set times every day, eleven at night and six in the morning. The mechanical locks are always making a bit of a rustle but Jayce is used to them by now. He wonders if Viktor got woken up by them but he doesn’t ask.
They fall into step easily. Jayce puts a hand on the small of Viktor’s back, a possessive gesture that at the same time offers great support for the other. Viktor doesn’t jump when he touches him and Jayce dares to hope things between them can still be alright, despite the circumstances.
People they pass look, but Jayce stares right back at them. They avert their eyes just as quickly.
When in the canteen, Jayce spots Vi immediately, sitting at their regular spot. He’s glad she got out of solitary so quickly, but he also knows she must have pulled some favors to do so, probably thinking about how important it is for both of them to stay alert now that they had Viktor with them. He’s more grateful for her than he could express with words. Thankfully, Vi isn't sentimental like that.
They make their way towards her and Jayce can see the small smile on her face fading the closer they get. Once they sit down, her jaw is set so tight Jayce gets scared of the state of her teeth.
She’s looking directly at Viktor’s neck, but when her gaze turns to him, Jayce knows a lesser man would run. He for some reason tries to fight down the urge to straighten up, getting all in her face.
Was it the way she looked at Viktor?
“Jayce?” Her tone is very cold and very quiet. Having an enemy in her would be devastating.
“It’s part of our plan.” He answers the unspoken question, but it doesn’t do much to relax her furrowed brows. She turns to Viktor, her expression urging him to speak yet a bit gentler.
Jayce takes no offence in the way she looks for confirmation in Viktor. He knows that despite her friendship, he’ll always be a man from Piltover first to her. She’d do that for anyone else she thought was getting abused.
Viktor, bless his mind, doesn’t look up to Jayce for confirmation. He calmly sets his cane next to himself and nods at Vi, expression careful.
“Jayce did not force himself on me. He offered me partnership and protection, him marking me up was my idea. Playing his toy makes it all look more believable.” The clinical tone in which he says it is almost enough to erase the memory of the previous night and the groans Viktor let out as Jayce tasted his skin for the first time. Almost.
The tense line of Vi’s shoulders finally relaxes. She sits back more loosely, nodding to them both.
“Alright, smart. Looks very believable.” Jayce ignores her teasing tone as he turns to Viktor.
“I’ll grab us some food. Anything special for you?” Viktor hesitates but shakes his head. Jayce has a sudden thought passing his mind, that he will never get used to the way Viktor’s eyes look huge when looking up at him.
He makes his way through the room, taking his place in the line. It moves slowly but steadily and Jayce asks politely or stares menacingly at the fellow inmates serving the food, depending on who stands behind the counter. He’s knocked the teeth out of far too many people here to not be wary of what’s happening with the food before it lands on his tray.
When he’s done, he turns back carefully, balancing the two portions of food he has taken. Walking slowly, he scans the way to their table, but the movement he sees near it makes him freeze.
One of the guys who tried challenging him before, one whose name he can never remember, stands a few feet away from Viktor, half shouting something at Vi with a mocking smile on his face. The woman continues to eat calmly but Jayce can see by the tense line of her shoulders that she’s ready to pounce. Viktor sitting in front of her seems petrified, eyes glued to his hands, twisted together on his lap.
Jayce is only partially aware of how he sets his tray down on the nearest table, throwing a warning growl at the four people sitting there. All of them immediately move away from his food but he’s not there to see it, already moving.
“...and still got nothing to say? Was the Defender good, whore? I’m asking you, fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, slut!” The guy, Roland , Jayce just remembers, takes a step closer. Vi sets her spoon down but she still doesn’t move. It’s not her fight and they both know it.
The whole room now knows it, people starting to turn their way to observe how Jayce’s new boytoy will finally get the treatment he deserves. They see Viktor as a hole to be filled and nothing more, Jayce was just getting the privilege of the strongest to get to him first. Sure he maimed him a little but Viktor was still perfectly fine and good to use. He wasn’t important enough to get into any trouble for.
Roland puts his hand on Viktor’s shoulder to turn him the moment Jayce gets to them, ripping the palm off of the bruised skin immediately. His grip is so tight he can hear the sickening crunch of bones breaking. Jayce had the hands of a blacksmith, hardened by the years and years of labor, now turned into deadly weapons he no longer hesitated to use.
The other man barely has time to let out a pained wheeze before Jayce spins him in place, using the momentum to punch him in the face so hard it splits the skin on his knuckles. The force of his stroke sends the man flying on the floor several feet away from them, unconscious. There’s barely a shout among the people spectating it, but all of them take a step back from the passed out man.
Jayce is temporarily blinded from the adrenaline but he hears a muffled “Jayce!” somewhere on his right, and he recognizes the alarmed voice as Viktor.
He barely has time to spin around and raise his arm to cover his face, the blade of the kitchen knife slicing the skin just so. Jayce doesn’t recognize the face of the attacker, but it doesn’t matter. Soon, no one will.
Fist full of the other’s hair, he drags the kicking man to the nearest table. He brings the attacker’s head down on the metal edge over and over again until the ringing in his ears stops.
When he unclenches his fist and lets the half dead body slip on the floor, there’s barely a sound other than his heavy panting breaking the tense silence.
He knows that his part played out right. A bloody spectacle, a reminder for everyone of what happens if you dare to go for something that belongs to Jayce. And now nobody has a shadow of doubt that Viktor is his and his alone.
When he turns back to their table, Vi’s eating as if nothing has happened. Everybody else’s eyes are however still glued to him as he walks over to Viktor, said man’s included. Jayce’s body feels heavy with each step he takes, the adrenaline leaving him making his bones feel like they are made of stones. His mind is restless like a caged animal.
It calms down when he stands in front of Viktor, whose big, doe-like eyes are wide but not filled with fear or disgust. Jayce reaches his hand out, not entirely sure what he wants from the man, but Viktor doesn’t hesitate. He puts his face in his palm like a cat, nuzzling the calloused skin. His eyes half closed, a shuddering breath of relief grazes Jayce’s palm.
The gesture calms Jayce’s fast beating heart to a regular rhythm again. They’re fine. They’re both fine and everybody watching sees whatever’s happening as a display of submission and pure devotion.
When Viktor opens his eyes again to hold Jayce’s gaze however, the man is not prepared for the flicker of heat that passes between them. He’s even less prepared for Viktor turning his head to lick a long stripe of Jayce’s blood off his forearm, from his wrist up to the shallow cut. Hot coals of arousal settle down in his stomach so suddenly Jayce feels lightheaded with the desire.
It’s good that murmurs around them and a commotion of incoming enforcers interrupts the moment. Jayce wouldn’t know what to do after.
“What in the…!” One of the officers shouts, looking around the scene with his face pale. Jayce is already positioned in front of Viktor in a way that his wide body shelters the other from the enforcer’s eyes completely.
“They had weapons.” Is all he says, voice gravelly as he points with his injured arm on the knife laying now uselessly on the floor.
The enforcers take his blood stained appearance, the pathetic looking blade and the men laying down, massacred beyond recognition. The pale of their faces turn green very fast, one openly gagging.
Jayce knows they’re calculating their chances. Risk a fight now with Jayce after what he just did, or…
He knows the moment when their unwillingness to interfere wins. He can see it in one of the officer’s eyes, the way the man straightens up as if he was the one who just resolved the whole conflict. He coughs once, looking Jayce in the eyes.
“Illegal weapons huh? It’s good they got stopped before anything came out of it, you mutt.” He’s brave enough to insult Jayce to his face only because of the number of his colleagues behind his back. Jayce doesn’t mind, he knows that he could crack the man’s skull open to see his brain pour out of it if he wanted to. He doesn’t need false reassurance. “If anything like that happens again though…”
“It won’t.” Jayce interrupts him, staring the man down. It’s stupid of him but he can’t help himself, not with the way he’s still a bit more predator than man.
The enforcer coughs again, slightly red and pretending like nothing occurred, immediately barking orders for his subordinates to dispose of the unconscious men. Jayce waits a few seconds longer, for everybody to start reluctantly going back to their food, before he also goes back for the trays he left behind.
There’s only one person still sitting at the table, a nervous looking vastaya woman. She straightens up once he comes over.
“I kept watch over it.” She announces, voice breaking. Jayce looks her in the eyes, making sure to remember her angular face and he nods. He knows she’s aware of his recognition.
When he comes back to their table he can’t help himself with the way he sits entirely in Viktor’s space, his chest almost glued to the other’s side. He puts his face in Viktor’s soft hair to breathe in deeply, aware of all of the eyes drilling in the back of his skull.
The hand Viktor’s not using to eat wanders to the side of his face, scratching gently under his chin. He doesn’t know how the man would know what he needs after such emotional and physical strain but he doesn’t try to spare it more thought than it’s worth it. The adrenaline drop never felt less painful, less maddening. Viktor's body is half the size of his but it still feels like he could hide in it if he tried hard enough.
“Good work.” It’s all Vi says, but Jayce only grunts in an answer. He doesn’t trust his voice now nor his mind. Words fail him even when he tries to think of what he could say.
He’s at risk of exposing how personal it felt to defend Viktor like that.
What’s even worse, he has a feeling that Vi has already noticed.
Viktor too.
***