Chapter Text
The train ride was meditative. It was easy to get lost in Jayce Talis’s journal and his own notes. Viktor’s mind was brimming with ideas. If Hextech were viable, if the four of them (plus hopefully Jayce Talis) could make it inert, stable, it could be a completely self-sustaining energy source, like Ekko’s vision. The Undercity was much improved from his childhood, but he knew there was still a lot to do. His old neighborhood still had constant blackouts. He could start by fixing that. The rest could follow.
The train stopped at an old station set in quite frankly the most picturesque town Viktor had ever seen. The buildings were mostly half-timbered and the mountainside that rose above it was dotted with white and yellow wildflowers. Birds wheeled above him. A white butterfly settled on his suitcase briefly before taking off again. Viktor watched it for a moment, smiling. Its wings were nearly translucent in the light.
Heimerdinger had given him directions to the inn, but they were unnecessary. The town was endearing small. The innkeeper, a tall woman with a kind face, greeted him with a smile and changed his room to one on the first floor without batting an eye when it became clear Heimerdinger had failed to mention his crutch.
“Honestly, your employer should have mentioned it,” she muttered as she handed Viktor the keys.
“These things slip his mind,” Viktor replied politely, defending Heimerdinger reflexively. “But, if I may, I have a question.”
“Of course. We don’t get many tourists. I’m always happy to show off our town,” the woman said, swelling with pride.
“Yes, it is quite lovely, but...do you know the Talis Forge?”
The woman frowned a moment and then nodded, giving Viktor a confused look. He decided not to take that as a bad sign. The journal felt like it might burn a hole in his bag.
“Yes. It’s a stone building on the south edge of town, you can’t miss it. What do you want with it?” she asked.
“A friend recommended it, the owner, Jayce Talis, yes?” Viktor asked.
“Yes. Decent enough man, bit of a loner,” the innkeeper said, almost dismissive.
“Hm, yes, well we have some...fiddly bits to make for a prototype. We need an expert.”
The lie came easily. He’d thought of it on the train. It was a relief Jayce Talis had a job he knew something about. He didn’t know what excuse he would have made if he’d been a baker or a shepherd or anything like that.
“Well, he is talented.”
“Excellent. I shall be on my way. Thank you for your—"
“If you wait a moment, I can call my husband to take you in our cart. He won’t—” the innkeeper started.
“That won’t be necessary. Thank you,” Viktor said, trying not to be annoyed. The town was small. He could manage it. The exchange still left a sour taste in his mouth.
The forge was unmistakable. It was a large stone building, with smoke coming from the chimney, and the sound of metal being worked within. He took a deep breath. Something about it was familiar. Jayce must be happy there, he thought and then wondered where that idea came from. He didn’t know the man, not really.
He pushed open the door. A small bell rang, heralding his entrance, and the one person in the forge, a tall man stripped to his waist with dark hair and a beard turned around. He wore a polite smile and was terribly handsome. Viktor knew him immediately. Jayce Talis. He had to be. Viktor felt he would know him anywhere, another strange thought he quickly dismissed.
“Hello. How can I help you?” he said.
“Jayce Talis?” Viktor asked, confirmation he didn’t need.
“Yes. I...have we met?” Jayce Talis said, moving towards him, pulling a shirt over his head.
“Eh, no, not…not that I recall,” Viktor said. “I’m Viktor.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, holding out a hand.
Viktor took it and got the most peculiar feeling. A buzz of electricity, a light headedness, something more serious trying to break through. He froze for a moment, unable to shake the strangeness of it.
Then it was gone. Jayce was still holding his hand, hand reaching to support him with a wrinkled of concern in his brow. The gesture and expression were so familiar that Viktor nearly cried. None it made sense.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jayce was asking, voice sounding far away as the ringing in Viktor’s ears died.
“You didn’t feel that?” Viktor responded, taking his hand back and shaking the last of the tingling feeling away.
“What? Are you—your eyes.”
“My eyes?” Viktor parroted.
“Yeah. They’re normal now, but for a second, they weren’t golden, they were…” Jayce trailed off with an awkward laugh. “Sorry. What a weird thing to…are you okay? Do you need to sit down? I can get you some water. You—”
“Yes. I’m…a head rush. That’s all. Sitting is, eh, a good idea,” Viktor said. His head was still spinning.
Jayce led him to a chair, not taking his hand off his back. It felt warm, heavy, right. Viktor wondered if it would be strange to kiss him. Then he realized that it was not a question. It would be strange to kiss him. He had known the man for five minutes. The impulse itself was odd, new. He had never wanted to kiss anyone so quickly before. He tried not to jump when Jayce pressed a cool glass of water into his hand, face still twisted in concern.
“Sorry, I don’t have any sweetmilk to offer you,” Jayce said with a shrug.
“I forgive you, but how did you know I like it? Most people find it, eh, gross.”
Jayce started to answer, then stopped, then shrugged. Viktor drank the cool, sweet water and tried not to look at him while Jayce seemed unable to look anyplace but at him. It was awkward now. He had made it awkward. Or maybe they both had. This was not the best start to his plan of convincing Jayce to break every law in Piltover and come back to continue his illegal research.
“I’m sorry. Are you sure we haven’t met? You look so familiar,” Jayce said again, as he half-reached for him, like he wanted to put a hand on his shoulder but stopped.
“I…I do not think so, though you may have seen me before. I was Heimerdinger’s assistant. At the Academy,” Viktor said.
Jayce’s face went to shock to sadness to something cloudy. He pushed back in his chair. Viktor wished he hadn’t. He really should go someplace else, clear his head, come back tomorrow. Maybe it was just tiredness from the journey. Maybe that could explain anything and the fact that Jayce grew up in Piltover could explain the sweetmilk and he could look at him without wanting to run a hand down his jawline.
“Oh,” Jayce said, a disappointed lilt to his voice. “Why are you here?”
“I found your research. Hextech,” Viktor said, ripping off the proverbial band aid.
Jayce flinched at the name, but Viktor swore he could see a spark in his eye. Jayce’s hand went reflexively to the leather cuff on his wrist. Viktor recognized it. He could almost feel the weight of it in his own hand, the smooth, worn leather, the slight weight of the stone. That could be his imagination. That he could explain.
“There is promise in it. I think—” Viktor continued after Jayce had been silent for a good, long while.
“It killed someone,” Jayce said softly, each word was shameful.
“I know. I…I was there. After they took you,” Viktor said carefully.
He was certain if he had gotten there ten minutes early, they would have met. He imagined for a moment how different that would be, if he’d come with Jayce to the little mountain town, if he’d found a way to save him from exile. A fantasy, nothing more.
“I have your journal and saved some of your equipment. Heimerdinger—” Viktor continued.
“Heimerdinger?” Jayce said incredulously, like the name was a curse.
“Yes. Him. He is…leading a renewed effort into your research. Him, his newest protege—”
Jayce scoffed. Viktor flashed a small smile. They both knew exactly how that went, being former proteges of Heimerdinger themselves.
“And…and the sister of the girl who died. And me, I suppose. We’re working together, trying to make it a reality,” Viktor said.
“Why?” Jayce asked.
Because Heimerdinger said he came from a different dimension. Because Ekko and Powder had young, eager minds and it was a good puzzle. Because Viktor was so bored with his life, and he had read Jayce’s journal until the pages were soft. Because there was promise. Because it would change the world and Viktor had to do something before he died.
“It is a bit of a long story. I do not understand it all myself, but…but I have your journal,” Viktor said, withdrawing it from his bag. “I made some…addendums to your original notes. I hope you do not mind.”
Jayce took the journal like it was some holy thing and began flipping through it. It wasn’t like when Heimerdinger and Ekko were looking through it. It felt right in his hands. Viktor watched his face. There was wonder there and a painful sadness. He wished to kiss it all away.
“Wait. What do you mean increase the energy output?” Jayce said, stopping at a page halfway through the journal.
“It will stabilize better,” Viktor said with a shrug.
“How do you—what if it destabilizes instead? The resulting explosion—”
“Would be disastrous, but if the frequency is high enough, it cannot help but stabilize itself. You just really have to—”
“Crank it?” Jayce said, a boyish grin splitting his face.
“Yes. Crank it,” Viktor said, smiling back. The words felt familiar in his mouth. For a moment, everything felt exactly as it should.
They talked about Hextech for hours. Jayce seemed unable to help himself. He was what Viktor had hoped he would be. Brilliant, creative, open, boyishly enthusiastic and naïve in a charming sort of way. In a more surprising twist, he seemed interested in everything Viktor had to say. He wondered if they would have talked all night if a customer hadn’t come in with an iron pot that needed repair. It was depressing, watching the smartest man he’d ever met take a sad, rusted thing and promise to fix it, swearing it wasn’t too complicated. When the old man left, it felt as if some of the magic had gone out of the room too.
“Look,” Jayce started, not looking at him, only at the pot. “I…this has been fun. Exhilarating, actually. But I can’t. Hextech was abandoned for a reason. Whatever Heimerdinger is trying to do, he can do without me.”
“Hm, well, that is a disappointment, yes, but I enjoyed our talk,” Viktor said carefully, another plan forming.
“Yeah, I…I did too,” Jayce said wistfully. “There’s no one to talk to here. Not like…like you, at least. I mean…an Academic. Another scientist.”
“Heimerdinger has already paid for my room for the whole week. I could use a vacation and this place is, eh, quite charming. Perhaps I can come back tomorrow?” Viktor said.
He wanted to scream at him, shake him until he understood what he was turning his back on. He never wanted to go for a day without speaking to Jayce again. Maybe he had developed a boyish crush on Jayce from the journal alone and meeting him had only made it real.
“Yeah, um, sure. I…I have some work, but…it’s slow right now. We can…talk,” Jayce said.
“I look forward to tomorrow, then,” Viktor said, carefully getting to his feet and turning towards the door.
“Viktor?” Jayce called when his hand was on the knob.
“Yes?” Viktor said, turning, afraid he had changed his mind.
“You’re staying at the inn?”
“Where else?”
“Want to have dinner? I can meet you there.”
“Yes,” Viktor replied quickly, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks.
Jayce grinned and Viktor left with it burned on the inside of his eyelids. It was not a date. It was dinner with a man he had just met, a like mind starved for mental stimulation. Still. He felt like his insides had been cracked open and remade. It was ridiculous. He had never thought of another person in that way, though the boy he had dated just before he left the Undercity had come close. He had never craved romance or sex like so many others seemed too. Jayce was different, though. He’d felt it when their hands touched.
Dinner was pleasant. The food at the inn was surprisingly good and Jayce continued to be good company. They didn’t talk about Hextech. They talked about the Academy and Heimerdinger and what Viktor thought of the newest students and Ekko and Powder and the newest research coming out of Ionia about crystals. Jayce insisted they ordered dessert. He said he knew Viktor had a sweet tooth. Viktor tried not to question how. He thought they might have talked all night, but Jayce excused himself as the dining room of the inn began to clear out with a yawn.
“Sorry. Early morning tomorrow,” he said, stretching.
“Of course. I don’t mean to keep you,” Viktor said.
“It’s fine. I…I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. When shall I come by?”
“The forge opens at eight. Any time after then is fine.”
Viktor said goodnight and Jayce left. The innkeeper came to clear their dishes with a friendly smile.
“That’s the most I’ve ever seen him talk!” she said.
“Really? He seems friendly,” Viktor said.
“He is, but keeps to himself, like I said. It’s nice to see him with a friend.”
There was something to how she said the word “friend” that made Viktor want to crawl inside his sweater. His affection must have been obvious. He felt like a teenager, even more so when the innkeeper told him that Jayce had settled their bill before he left with what came very close to a wink.
He needed to get ahold of himself. He barely knew this Jayce. They did connect, yes, but that didn’t mean anything. He should stop thinking of it, compartmentalize so he could focus on what he had come there to do.
A figure in a white, hooded robe flitted through his dreams. It felt strange, out of place, familiar.
When Viktor woke, he could barely remember any of it. Early morning sunlight was pouring in through the crack in the curtains. The room was already warm, promising a lazy, hot day. He wondered how Jayce could stand it at the forge even as he dressed, wincing as he put on his braces, and went downstairs for coffee.
Breakfast was an impatient thing and he took up the innkeeper’s offer to have her husband drive him to Jayce’s forge. When he arrived at 8:15, Jayce was there to greet him with a smile and a cup of coffee. It was sweet, how he liked it.
“Thank you,” Viktor said, sitting on the chair Jayce offered him, a pillow discreetly added.
“Of course. How is it?” Jayce asked, taking a sip of his own.
“Good. Impressive, since you drink yours black and bitter.”
Jayce laughed. Viktor told himself he knew that because he could smell Jayce’s coffee, see the dark liquid in the yellow mug. Yellow, like the flowers on the hillside. Yellow, like the sun. Viktor wanted to stare at him. He drank his coffee instead.
The second day went much as the first. They talked. Viktor didn’t mention Hextech this time. Jayce did, ten minutes after they finished their coffee. He’d gone over more of Viktor’s notes and had more questions and then Viktor had questions and then he was scribbling new equations on sheets of scrap paper while Jayce diagramed a new housing for the crystal.
The forge was hot. Viktor felt sweat pooling beneath his brace and the hair the fell into his eyes was damp. He caught Jayce staring twice.
When it was lunchtime, Jayce closed the forge and asked Viktor if he wanted to eat with him. He followed Jayce to the small, one room house behind the forge. It was cooler there, in the shade of the house, a relief.
“Sorry it’s so hot today,” Jayce said, as if he had a say in it, while he made sandwiches for the pair of them.
“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Viktor shrugged.
“Are you sure? You…you just looked a little uncomfortable. Back at the forge. If you need take the afternoon off—”
“No, no. It is not so bad, only my brace does not do well in the heat, and I do not do well without it,” Viktor shrugged.
Jayce glanced at him, chewing on a question. Viktor raised an eyebrow, inviting it. At some point over the past few hours, they had begun communicating silently. It was not helping the compartmentalizing Viktor was trying very hard to do.
“Your brace, is it…comfortable?” Jayce finally asked.
“No, but it is the make that best suits me,” Viktor replied.
“You ever try to design your own?”
“Yes, but no one will do it. Too fiddly they say,” Viktor said with a scowl.
“Can I see?”
Viktor was taken aback. No one had asked to see it before. It had always been him, shoving his design in the face of anyone he thought might be able to do it. He nodded slowly. His heart leapt. A butterfly alighted on the windowsill, flapping its wings slowly.
“I have it in one of my journals, back at the inn. Dinner again tonight?” Viktor asked.
“Yeah, of course. I…I’m kind of excited. I want to see what you came up with.”
Viktor gave him a smile and took a bite of the sandwich. It was going well. Hextech aside, he wanted to talk with Jayce about science forever. A fantasy formed of the two of them living in the small town, inventing things in a little lab, but it was impossible. His life was in Piltover, not to mention the fact that he needed monthly treatments to keep his lungs from deteriorating until he drowned in his own blood. Still, it was a nice thought.
Their second dinner was just as pleasant as their first. He showed Jayce his designs. Jayce seemed certain he could do it, coming up with a supply list and a few recommended improvements to the structure of the brace. Most of them were good, so Viktor allowed them. He promised to come the next morning so Jayce could measure him and begin work.
They talked about Hextech after that. Jayce with a near fever, as if it was something he’d kept bottled inside, waiting to explode. Viktor with reverence. He told him more about Powder and Ekko. He hoped Jayce would like them. He hoped Jayce would come with him. He felt like he had known him forever now, a strange thought.
The innkeeper was half-smirking when she bid goodnight to Viktor. He ignored her. It was a small town. People would gossip. It was like the Academy in that way. He had not been the subject of such scrutiny since he started, and people whispered that he slept his way in or that his father was a powerful chembaron holding Heimerdinger’s beloved poro hostage.
He dreamed about the hooded white figure again. It felt closer this time, breathing down his neck. It felt important, worrisome.
When he woke, his skin felt a little clammy. It was warm out still. He decided that was all and pushed it from his mind, letting Jayce and Hextech and the brace take it’s place.
Viktor told Jayce about the hooded figure in his dream. He laughed, saying it was a silly thing to Fret about. He was sitting in front of him, bare chested as Jayce measured him. His hands left trails of fire in their wake. Jayce did not quite look at him. There was a redness to his cheeks, but that could be blamed on the heat. Viktor intended on doing so if Jayce brought it up. When they were done, it was a relief to put his old brace and shirt back on.
“How long do you think it will take?” Viktor asked.
“A few days. Well, a few days until I have something for you to try. I…you’re welcome to stay, but I have to work,” Jayce said.
“I have work to do to. Perhaps we can do it together, though I doubt mine is as interesting. Term papers from first year biology students,” Viktor said with an eyeroll.
“Oh yeah! I remember that class. It was so boring, so simple—”
“Yes! Hardly scratches the surface or gets into anything of interest.”
“And there are still kids who fail it.”
“Just so.”
“Well, read me the highlights, if you come across anything truly…mind numbing,” Jayce said with a grin.
Viktor laughed. An hour later, he was settled with the paper and Jayce was doubled over, laughing at some rich Piltie’s extremely fantastical understanding of inherited traits. It was good, peaceful. They worked well next to each other, in comfortable silence or with gently chatter.
They had dinner again that night. Jayce paid. He told Viktor about his life in the village, about his mother who lived nearby but not close enough to smother, about his father who died young, about the mage who had gifted him the crystal he wore in the cuff on his wrist. There was a rune etched into it. Viktor didn’t recognize it.
Viktor told Jayce about his life in Zaun, about his parents’ deaths, about his early days at the Academy, about working for Heimerdinger and how he had loved it and how it had become frustrating. Jayce could sympathize. He had been a favorite of Heimerdinger. A heavy crown to wear.
“I know,” Viktor said when Jayce told him. “I was working for him then. He spoke of you fondly.”
“We could have met earlier,” Jayce said quietly, almost regretful.
“Yes, I suppose we could have.”
They had dinner again that night. Viktor paid. Jayce lingered as they said goodbye before squeezing his arm affectionately in parting. Viktor had to keep himself from shuddering at the contact. The compartmentalizing was failing. Love might choke him.
The hooded figure still haunted his dreams. Illogical. Dreams were nothing but fragments the mind couldn’t digest during the day. It was unsettling. Viktor blamed the altitude, the heat, the swirling feeling he got whenever he saw Jayce.
When Viktor woke up, he went to see Jayce. They worked in companionable silence. Jayce had the leather part figured out and was smelting the metal. Viktor had finished grading and was working on a water purification system, something without Hextech. Maybe Jayce would build that too and he would have an excuse to come back.
Jayce made dinner for him that night. The inn’s food was better. Viktor preferred Jayce’s cooking. When he left, Jayce paused a moment before going for a hug. It surprised Viktor. He nearly flinched back, before returning it. Jayce relaxed in his grip before pulling away. He smelt of the forge, soap, and sweat. The smell made Viktor feel a little light-headed.
That night, the hooded figure was standing in front of him. It pulled his hood back. Viktor’s own face stared back at him. Older and indescribably sad. They were standing on a ruined building. Jayce was in front of them, turned to stone, face twisted in fear.
Viktor woke in a cold sweat. He felt like he might throw up. Then he did. He didn’t see Jayce that day. Sent a letter saying he was sick. Spent all day trying to puzzle out what the dream meant. Ate dinner in his room. Missed Jayce like a limb.
“You should not be here,” he, the him in a white robe said.
“What does that mean?” he, the actual him, said.
“I suppose I have something to ponder. Don’t return for a few nights.”
“I am not trying to come here,” Viktor said. His body was made of starlight. His hair was white.
“You are smart. You will figure it out.”
Viktor woke. That explained very little. His older self was a figment, a stress dream. The vision of Jayce from the night before was a nightmare. That was it. It felt like he was lying to himself.
He went to Jayce, arriving a little before 8:00. Jayce was already there. When he saw him, something in his heart released. Jayce grinned, half-running to meet him on the path, startling little white butterflies in his wake.
“Viktor! You’re feeling better?” Jayce asked.
“Yes, much. Just a…bug, I think,” Viktor replied.
“Good,” Jayce said, putting his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, thumb rubbing it slightly. An intimate gesture. “The prototype of the brace is almost done.”
“Really? That was quick,” Viktor said, grinning and following Jayce into the forge.
“Yeah, well, I got inspired. Come see.”
Even incomplete, the brace looked like Viktor had always imagined. A feeling swelled in his heart. It was like love, but more complicated. He reached out to touch it. It was cool, smooth. He could already tell it was lighter, less bulky than the one he had been wearing for four years now. His shoulders sagged, anticipating the relief it would bring.
“It is better than I had thought. More elegant,” Viktor said.
“Glad you like it. It should be done by the end of the day. I’ll, um, after dinner. I’ll cook. You can try it on then. A celebration,” Jayce stumbled out.
“Yes, good,” Viktor said, pulling his hand back, focusing on Jayce. “Now. I was reading the latest theories on time manipulation, which is impossible, but was wondering if you had any thoughts?”
“Impossible is a strong word, V,” Jayce said, grinning.
Viktor warmed at the nickname, even as Jayce continued as if he had not said anything out of the ordinary at all. They talked, argued, went in circles around Hextech and time manipulation and paradoxes. Jayce worked on the brace. Viktor wrote down all their new ideas about Hextech. He would have much to show Heimerdinger when he came back. He hoped Jayce would come with him. Now it seemed impossible to live without him. A slippery slope.
Jayce was right. The first version of the brace was finished that evening. Jayce carried it like a precious thing to his house and made Viktor wait while he cooked for them. There was a heavy anticipation in the air Viktor couldn’t blame entirely on excitement over his new brace. They ate quickly. Jayce said he’d wash up later. They had more important things to do.
Viktor stripped off his shirt and his old brace. Jayce didn’t watch, which felt purposeful, which made it feel like he had been staring at him. Then Viktor picked up the new brace. It was lighter. Beautiful. It reminded him of Jayce and himself, a perfect meeting of their minds.
“Do you want any help with it?” Jayce asked, voice strangely soft.
Viktor did not need help. He had designed it. He had been wearing his other brace for years and had always prided himself on being self-sufficient.
“Yes,” Viktor said, the word coming out strangely breathless.
Jayce’s hands brushed his skin as he helped him with the brace. It felt purposeful this time whereas before, it had been accidental or utilitarian. They had known each other for less than a week. Viktor had never wanted to kiss anyone more in all his life.
When he was done, Viktor stood. He laughed aloud. The brace was lighter, more flexible. It relieved the pressure on his shoulders and his spine felt more secure, like he wouldn’t shatter if he moved wrong. All at once, several knots in his back released.
“Well?” Jayce asked.
“It’s perfect! Jayce, you are—”
Viktor whirled around to thank him. Jayce was right there. He caught him on instinct. Viktor’s hands were gripping his arms. It was an embrace of sorts. They were close together now. They were staring at each other.
“I cannot thank you enough,” Viktor said quietly.
“It’s payback. For bringing me my journal,” Jayce said, not looking at Viktor’s eyes. Looking at his lips.
“Silly,” Viktor said softly. He was already leaning in.
The kiss was electric. It felt like he’d been waiting for it forever and it felt familiar, as if the shape of Jayce’s soft lips were already imprinted on the inside of his skull. As he moved his hands higher, to rest on Jayce’s shoulders, Jayce let out a sudden gasp and the world broke apart.
A thousand meetings. A thousand Jayces. A thousand Viktors. His head was spinning. They were floating. The world was blue. They were working. Side-by-side. Jayce laughing. Jayce arguing. Jayce bringing him coffee. Him frowning. Him talking a mile a minute at a chalkboard while Jayce took notes. Him watching Jayce from across the room at a gala, champagne in hand. Them. Together. In every single one.
Viktor pulled back. Jayce was looking at him with wide eyes, panting slightly. They hadn’t let go of each other. Everything feel into place. The strange feeling. The intimacy. The little things they just seemed to know about each other. Heimerdinger was right. Other universes, other timelines, all of it.
“Jayce, I—” Viktor started.
“Me too,” Jayce said.
“What—”
Jayce kissed him again. There was too much to process. Too many memories, too many realizations that could rewrite reality as they knew it. All of it felt secondary as Viktor leaned into Jayce’s embrace and kissed him back as hard as he could.