Chapter Text
The air of the undercity was as thick as smoke, yet it always felt lighter at night to Viktor. His body got used to the fresh air of Piltover over the years, and as the elevator made its descent towards the undercity he stifled a cough as his lungs struggled to breathe out the chemical charged atmosphere.
His feet moved by themselves as they took him to one of the places he used to come daily when he was still a citizen of Zaun. His hand that wasn’t clutching his cane was stuffed in the pocket of a long dirty coat, his thumb running over the blade he had grabbed before leaving, ready to pull it out and stab anyone that would be coming too close. He didn’t have the heart to harm, but in that specific part of the city it was kill or be killed.
His thin lips curled in discontentment at the trash piling up in the streets and the heavy smell of urine and burning plastic.
Somehow, the situation in Zaun had worsened. Considering that Jayce was close to councilwoman Medarda, he was aware of most updates, yet he had never heard of an evolution in the state of the city. He wasn’t surprised, the undercity was Piltover’s reject sister after all, but it didn’t help the worry brewing inside of him.
He would deal with this problem later.
Just as his leg began to ache, the cramps traveling up his spine and making him cringe in pain, he spotted the familiar neon sign.
The daydream blinked in purple and green cursives, next to the neon sign of a woman’s silhouette in nothing but heels. He stumbled to the front door, the bouncer scanned him up and down with a furrow in his brow, he was twice as large as Viktor, his biceps bulging as he crossed his arms.
When the smaller male looked up and met his eyes, the bouncer relaxed and chuckled in disbelief. “Viktor, it’s been a while, almost didn’t recognize you!”
Viktor tried to hide the shameful curl of his lips. It had been years since he had set foot in the club.
“Good evening, Rick.” Viktor smiled sheepishly. “I– eh– I’ve been quite busy.”
The burly man laughed heartily, his large hand landed on Viktor’s back in a friendly pat, causing him to stumble. “I get it! Our boy is now a fancy ass topsider.”
Viktor bristled, slightly offended. “Is she dancing tonight?”
Amusement glimmered in Rick’s eyes. “She’s here every night, my boy.”
“Every night?” Viktor furrowed his brows, to which the bouncer shrugged half-heartedly.
“Times are hard.” He answered vaguely .
When are they not? Viktor thought bitterly as Rick opened the door for him, and he was hit by the loud music. “Ah, right on time.” He smiled at Viktor as the saxophonist began playing.
He pushed on his cane to make his way inside the tight entrance, the stench of the outside replaced by the smell of cheap perfume and cigars smoke. The lights blinded him momentarily as he stumbled between the men to reach the booth he had claimed years ago as his own.
“A kiss on the hand may be quite continental,
But diamonds are a girl’s best friend…”
The sultry tone, smooth like milk and honey, made him look up at the stage, and his heart leaped.
Here you were, in a pink corset with a glittery tulle skirt that barely covered anything. A pair of white lace thigh highs on and feet clad in cream heels that you expertly danced in like you weighted naught. Your usual flirty and mischievous smile plastered over your lips as you sang into a glittery microphone.
“A kiss may be grand, but it won’t pay the rental on you humble flat, or help you feed your— meow– pussy cat!”
He couldn’t stop the smile that played at his lips as he watched you enthusiastically dance and sing, radiant under the artificial light.
But he knew the happiness plastered onto your face didn’t reach your eyes.
It was like he had never left, the same group of dancers was on stage with you, albeit a couple of them were missing, and the barman was still bobbing his head in rhythm with the music as he made the drinks, although the left part of his face was now marred with scars.
He nervously drummed his fingers on the dirty table covered in scratches. How were you going to react once you saw him? Were you going to be angry? Happy? Were you going to feel like you heart was going to explode, the same as him every time your eyes met.
You did a little twirl, your gaze almost landing on him, and panic struck him. He grabbed his cane in a hurry to get up, yet tried to calm himself down.
Remember why you came. You mustn’t run away.
The music became louder and faster as you wiggled your hips, riling up the men and women in the audience as they whistled and laughed.
Meanwhile, unaware of the inner turmoil of Viktor, you forced your exhausted body to follow the routine. Over the years you had become numb to the catcalls and the way the clients addressed you like a toy, merely dancing and smiling while your mind went some place far away.
Soon you finished your routine by posing with the dancers, bending forward and your spine stretching to show the curve of your ass to the public. The exhaustion made you lose your balance, but fortunately one of the dancers caught you as she pretended to caress your shoulder.
“Thank you.” You whispered, and she winked in answer.
The audience erupted in applause, and like every single night after your number your gaze slid towards the empty booth were Viktor used to sit to fiddle with his inventions. You stupidly hoped you would find him here, but each time you found it empty your heart broke a little bit more.
Tonight, however, you met molten gold eyes, so unique you could recognize their owner amongst thousands.
Your heart stopped.
He looked just as beautiful as always, his hair was combed and he looked taller, but he was still the same genius curling on himself like he was unaware of how extraordinary he was. He gazed in awe at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes brimming with emotions. As if he were just as breathless as you were.
Suddenly time seemed to resume its regular pace, the girls left the stage and the stage lights dimmed. Your legs finally found the strength to move again as you stumbled towards him.
His chest felt tight as he watched you all but ran to him, entertaining the hope that maybe… maybe you returned his feelings.
“Viktor…” you breathed out, your knees buckled and you found yourself kneeling at the edge of the stage as he just as clumsily reached you with a relieved whisper of your name.
He went for a hug, but his arms suspended in the air as he hesitated.
It had been years, maybe a hug was inappropriate.
However, your amused huff and the way you roughly brought him in a bone crushing hug was enough of an answer for him. You were careful not to put pressure on his spine brace as you wrapped your arms around him, and he tangled a hand in your hair as he buried his face in your neck.
You smelled like vanilla and musk, the perfume he saw you spray dozens of times in the small changing room before the show. Wrapped in your scent and your warmth, he melted.
“Hello, little bird.” He said affectionately, and you giggled at the old nickname.
You broke the hug to take a long look at him, to take in the new blemishes he earned with age. He was somehow thinner, his eyes a bit sunken in. His face had grown even more angular over time, and you tried to brush off the reaction it triggered within your chest.
“Shit, Vik. Don’t the topsiders feed you?” You quirked a brow as you felt his arms. “A fucking gust of wind could break you in half. You gotta take care of yourself.”
Viktor gently pushed your hands away as he tried to calm down his racing heart. “Your mouth is still as filthy.” He smirked.
Your rolled your eyes cheekily. “And you’re still talking like you’re one of those fancy gentlemen in my mom’s books.” The music resumed, signaling that the next number was about to begin. You jumped down the stage and grabbed his hand. “C’mon, let’s talk in the changing room.”
He noticed that you adjusted your pace to meet his, pushing people gently out of the way and thanking them for coming to the show.
You were always so kind, a rare quality in such a cruel world. You always took care of everyone around you, even going as far as ushering children inside the club to treat their wounds and giving them medicines you struggled to get for yourself.
That was how you two met, he had been beaten up and robbed by other kids. An easy prey, a fourteen year old cripple. You were barely older than him, and you came across his battered and bruised body on your way to the club with your mother.
You dragged him inside and treated his wounds with some leftover whiskey, and he could still recall the harsh sting of it followed by the soft touch of your hands that calmed the turmoil of his mind.
He was pulled out of his trip down memory lane when he heard the door close. You pulled a stool for him to sit on as you plopped down on the chair of your old vanity.
Under the fluorescent lights, he could see your face better, and he frowned when he noticed the exhaustion tugging at your features. Making you seem older than you really were.
“Why are you here?” You suddenly blurted, and cringed when it came out like you didn’t want him in front of you when it was quite the opposite. “Not like I don’t want you here. Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that I swear on my mom’s grave. Not like swearing on someone’s grave means anything when they’re already dead, I mean what can they do? Suddenly rise up and–”
“You’re rambling.” Viktor noted, deeply amused. “You don’t have to be nervous, it’s just me.”
You paused. “I’m not nervous.”
He chuckled. “What you aren’t is a good liar.”
“Fucking hell.” You grumbled under your breath as you grew flustered. “I– I just didn’t expect you to ever come back down to the shitty side of that city, that’s all.”
This confession seemed to shock him into silence, honey eyes wide. You pursed your lips, gaze flickering elsewhere.
“Of course I had to come back. You’re here, after all.”
You fiddled with the frayed edge of your stockings, your mind cursing at your naive, racing heart.
You didn’t want to look at him and his sad eyes, probably hurt by what you said, but a single timid brush of his fingers against your hand and you were already meeting his apologetic gaze. “I’m sorry I took so long. Eh… It was more difficult than expected.”
Confusion was clear as day on your face, prompting him to continue. “Did you forget about my promise?” He asked gently.
You blinked a few times, and then the memory finally hit you.
He was barely eighteen, his hair uneven from the way you clumsily tried to cut it the day before. His eyes were shining with an emotion akin to hope, a glint you were not quite familiar with.
One day, I will get you out of here.
His hand had grabbed yours a soon as the words left his mouth, you could still remember the feeling of his clammy palm on your skin.
And you gaped, taken aback by how unusually brazen he was. Then your heart melted in a puddle of love as your lips curled in a smile.
You didn’t know where this sudden promise was coming from. Maybe he heard you cry in the bathroom earlier after one of the clients tried to force himself on you once again and he wanted to give your heart a break with a beautiful lie.
Yet Viktor was too kind to offer false hope.
Two days later, he left for the Academy.
You blinked the memory away, focusing on the older Viktor sitting in front of you.
“I…” Your voice grew thick with emotions. “I didn’t know you meant it. I thought you were just being nice.”
One look at your tearful eyes and he knew you didn’t mean that he was a liar. You were just afraid to hope.
He mustered the courage to grab your hand, his palm cold against the back of yours. “Of course I meant it.”
He would do anything for you, after all.
Your eyes stung, and you took a sharp intake of air at his words. “So if you’re here…” His smile widened.
“I can get you out of the undercity.” His excitement caused him to speak faster with a thicker accent. “You can stop overworking yourself. You will be safe and you will have as much food on the table as you want. You can even have your own bedroom for yourself.”
Only you didn’t match his excitement, merely looking back at him with narrowed eyes. “What’s the catch?”
“Eh?” He asked dumbly as he pretended not to understand.
You leaned forward. “This is too good to be true, Vik. How would Piltover let someone like me join them?”
A pregnant pause followed the question, and Viktor took a deep breath as if to gather his courage.
“Okay, so you already know how I became a citizen of Piltover thanks to Professor Heirmedinger, right?” You nodded. “I managed to become his assistant, but students don’t make any income.”
You gently squeezed his hand to prompt him to continue. “But then, I met someone.” His eyes suddenly lit up as he smiled. “Another student. He was working on something extraordinary, a way to manufacture magic! We became associate and we worked together on a new technology. We call it Hextech.”
“Wait a –” Your eyes widened. “You are one of Hextech’s founders?”
He sheepishly shrugged. “Ehhh… I guess you could say that.”
The laughter full of surprise and awe that followed was like music to his ears. “You are amazing.” You stated, eyes shimmering.
His gaze flickered to your lips, and for one fleeting second you thought he was going to kiss you. Disappointment filled you when he suddenly broke out of his stupor and cleared his throat.
“Anyway… Thanks to the fundings on behalf of the hexgate project we are working on, we are making a good living. I can finally afford to get you citizenship.”
“Viktor, that has to be crazy expensive. I don’t want you spending so much for me.” You protested, even though the opportunity of a lifetime on the surface with whom you considered your soulmate was a dream of yours.
His hand cradled you cheek, the callouses rough against your skin contrasting with his gentle touch. “It is nothing.” He insisted.
You lower lip trembled. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to so bad, but you were scared to hope for the first time, only for it to be squashed. You knew you wouldn’t handle the heartbreak.
“So.. there is a catch…” Viktor’s eyes fell as he mumbled.
“What is it?” You asked nervously. “Hostage? Blackmail? Oh gods, is it murder?”
He choked on his spit, and hit his chest a few times. “No! A–Absolutely not!”
His cheeks seemed to grow redder as you watched his hand leave its place on you cheek to reach inside his coat. He pulled out a black box, and the air was punched out of your lungs as he turned your hand and placed the small item inside your palm with trembling fingers.
He swallowed thickly. “Marriage. You would have to marry me.”
…
You must have died.
Perhaps you had been attacked and you were bleeding out alone behind a pile of garbages in front of the club, your mind making up a fantasy to soothe you. Yet you could feel the weight of the box in your hand, feel the pain of the blisters caused by your shoes. Your mind couldn’t produce such a breathtaking mix of colors that were his eyes so accurately.
You choked a sob once you realized that this was very real.
Viktor took it the wrong way, and quickly began reassuring you. “This marriage is purely a contract. We won’t have to share a bed or act like..husband and wife. This is just to get you your citizenship.”
Oh.
Your eyes fell with your heart as you pretended to study the ring.
He held his breath as he waited for your answer.
“Can you…” you sniffled as you blinked away the tears. “Can you put it on my finger?”
His trembling fingers struggled to get the ring out of its box, and with the utmost care he grabbed your wrist and slid the band down your own.
It was a bit too big, so he made a mental note to go back to the jewel store as soon as possible.
The hextech crystal glimmered on your fingers, a piece of magic the only jewel fit for someone like you.
“It’s a beautiful ring…” You mused out loud as you moved your hand so the jewels could catch the light. “I could just beat you up and run away with it.”
He laughed loudly, and you smiled in delight at being the reason. “Not a good idea to run with those heels on, you wouldn’t go very far before getting arrested. You’re better off marrying me.”
You chuckled. “I guess I’ll marry you, then.”
A loud bang at the door startled you and broke the spell. “Hey! We need to get changed! Open!”
Viktor watched your face redden in exasperation as you jumped onto your feet, stomped your way over to the door to unlock and open it.
“I fucking quit!” You yelled, and he stifled a laugh, still as amused by your cursing.
And then you turned to him and grinned. “What are you waiting for, Vik? Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Your palm was warm against his, and he wondered how sweet life was going to be now that someone would be waiting for him at home.
“Then let’s do it.”