Chapter Text
Jayce was a patient man.
He could be, anyways– regardless of how Caitlyn would snort a laugh of disbelief or how Viktor would roll his eyes while giving an indulgent nod while biting back a smile.
But Jayce could prove it:
Patience was waiting three years after Viktor got together with Dmitri. Waiting three years while gritting his teeth, tightening his jaw, averting his eyes, and biting his tongue against the breaking of his own heart when Jayce found that his partner, his soulmate—
Patience was watching Viktor choose someone else. Watching someone else’s arm wrapped around his thin, angled shoulders, someone else’s hand on the small of his back, someone else’s mouth pressing kisses on the cute moles above Viktor’s cheek, right above his lip—
Had someone else receiving those doe-eyed, soft looks of affection.
At the time, Jayce had frozen. Actually frozen. Felt the ground beneath him tear open into a gaping maw and swallow him whole. Vi was next to him, took one look, and actually choked into her drink at the absolute gall.
His name was Dmitri.
He was Viktor’s boyfriend—
Jayce met him when it turned official, as of a week ago, Jayce had learned. In the same timespan, almost in the same breath that was taken from his lungs, Jayce learned exactly what to name the ugly feeling creeping out from the depths of his chest, snaking between the cracks in his ribs, and tightening its hold against the soft flesh of his heart:
“What? You’re jealous?” Vi had given him a laugh, swift, hearty, packing a crushing punch that shook the very core foundations of Jayce’s entire being.
Jayce hadn’t argued. He didn’t argue with facts and logic.
He just needed some time to be able to see it for himself. To be proven in methodology that made the most sense to him.
Or, a sudden catastrophic event that altered Jayce’s perception of reality itself. Namely, what he felt for his best friend, had felt all along and knew so well that it burrowed into the marrow of his bones and wove into every atom of his being—
Yet somehow, the rest of his neurological perception failed to keep up.
And he knew it now. Knew it well. Knew it the moment Viktor blushed and leaned into Dmitri’s side, leaned up to peck him on the lips in a shy, coy way that Jayce had never seen before. Knew it when a cold, startling realization had been left in the flames of indignation and fury:
That someone could have Viktor like this. That someone got to have Viktor like this.
And that someone wasn’t Jayce.
So, Jayce tried to do what any sane man would do upon the realization of his feelings—
Unfortunately, Caitlyn saw through his plans and put a stop to it immediately. Then proceeded to let Jayce know just how much of a terrible idea that was when Viktor seemed genuinely happy with this man and expecting Viktor to just throw everything away when Jayce finally pulled his head out of his ass after seven years of calling Viktor his brother and platonic soulbro would decimate seven years of friendship.
So Jayce waited. Held his tongue, held his pride, as some bastard held his best friend in the way that Jayce could only dream of.
Three years.
Three years culminating in a night of tears and picking Viktor up from his apartment after Dmitri left, saying he’d grab his things in the morning.
Viktor told him, seated in the passenger seat that Dmitri had broken things off with him, and despite what Jayce’s traitor friends would believe, he didn’t immediately confess his undying love to Viktor and took him to his bed to reclaim every inch of his partner—
No, there were more important things to do, like taking Viktor to his home and listening and holding his best friend as Viktor’s shoulders shook and quiet sobs filled his apartment. Important things like making sweet milk for him the exact way that Viktor liked, and wrapping his best friend in the softest, warmest blanket he owned while filling the gaps of silence with mindless one-sided conversation. And while Viktor said nothing, the red of his eyes and the red of his lips where he tried to bite and clamp down his cries spoke volumes.
That had been six months ago.
Since then, things were on the mend. Not just Viktor’s quiet, crushed spirits, but the friendship that moved notches down in priority over the years when Jayce and Dmitri often clashed, leaving Viktor in the middle.
Months of reliving those precious years when they’d been connected at the hip, when Jayce knew Viktor inside and out, and when Viktor could come to him for anything, everything—
Six months of quietly rebuilding their peace and Jayce getting his best friend back and quietly waiting, hoping that Viktor would give some kind of cue, would give some type of clue that he was ready to move on, that his heart had healed and he was willing to take that risk again,
And this time, Jayce wouldn’t hesitate.
Except what came first was white-hot blinding rage and a scream torn from Viktor’s throat that Jayce had never even known was possible.
Jayce was immediately at Viktor’s side, checking him over for injury. Instead, what he found was Viktor and a look on his face that Jayce had never seen before.
(And Jayce admitted—unfiltered fury was hot on him.)
More importantly (though debatable by Jayce’s standards), a letter had been thrown to the floor, an elegantly scripted envelope floating to the floor by its side.
“Viktor?” Jayce gingerly asked, hand placed on his back, ready to guide him towards the couch or catch him should he fall.
“Just…” Viktor gave a scathing glare (which Jayce quietly memorized for, err, future use). “Read for yourself.”
Jayce gingerly bent down to pick up the envelope, wrapped in silvers and blues. He frowned as the biting musk of leather, mahogany, and lilacs wafted from the folded page.
What, did a cologne ad offend Viktor?
Jayce unfolded the page and read the header—
Except he didn’t understand what he was reading. He read it again. The first line. The second line. The numbers (they were dates). The mix of letters and numbers (that made up an address).
The wheels turned. The cogs meshed in place. Cold logic blanketed over the infuriating incredulity.
It was an invitation.
To a wedding.
Dmitri’s wedding.
With his new fiancé.
And he’d invited Viktor.
Six months after he ended his relationship with Viktor.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Jayce decided.
Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder, his partner giving him a steely, cold glare. “Not before I do.”
Meeting Viktor had shifted Jayce’s entire universe. Jayce could attest to that. How else could he have found, gravitated, and orbited around the one person that understood Jayce like no other, who could match his passions and interests and personality so effortlessly, who Jayce found himself wordlessly and unknowingly adoring for years?
He thought he knew Viktor inside and out. They were best friends for about a decade, after all. And while his humor was dryer than Caitlyn’s earnest baking attempts, Jayce honestly didn’t believe Viktor possessed a single mean bone in his body.
The man put up with Professor Heimerdinger for years before he met Jayce, after all. The man obviously had the patience of a saint.
Then he saw Viktor fire back a comment at Jinx after she commented on his leg and his way of talking and—
Well. That ended the conversation quite succinctly.
Jayce found it fascinating to learn that even Viktor had a mean streak in him.
It was even more fascinating now, as Viktor glared at the card in utter affront as if the script had personally insulted his entire bloodline and all of his academic publications, muttering under his breath while frantically scrolling through social media as Jayce prepared his sweet milk.
“Stare at it any harder and it’ll catch on fire,” Jayce chuckled.
Jayce placed the steaming cup beside Viktor and peeked over to his side.
Ah.
Scrolling on his ex’s page.
A terrible habit, Jayce was well aware.
(Not that he and Viktor ever dated and broke up, per se, but he definitely had to monitor his ragescrolling back when Viktor and Dmitri were dating.)
Viktor sighed. He placed his phone down. Before he could resume staring at the invitation sitting crumpled at the coffee table, Jayce reached back for the mug and placed it in his hands.
Viktor sent him a grateful look. He took a sip as Jayce wrapped an arm around him. He took another sip. Then a breath. Jayce drew him in closer. Viktor leaned his head against Jayce’s shoulder and Jayce felt the tremors through Viktor’s smaller frame.
“…they started seeing each other two weeks after we ended things.”
Jayce stilled beside him. He opened his mouth, lips already curling to a snarl—
Until he heard a small sniffle beside him. “Was I so disposable that—”
Jayce drew Viktor into his arms and held him. “No, no,” Jayce murmured, stroking Viktor’s hair while trying to keep his own rage in check. Three years. Viktor wasted three years on that bastard, and now Dmitri threw this at him?
A wedding invitation?
Just what kind of message was this sick fuck trying to get across?
“It was his loss,” Jayce said, meaning every word of it. “Viktor, you’re incredible, there’s no one else like you—”
Viktor snorted. A sad, ugly little laugh that landed on the shoulder of Jayce’s houseshirt he’d been lounging in all morning. “Exactly. He…didn’t want someone like me.”
“I always said he had shit taste.” Jayce grimaced at Viktor’s humorless laugh. “You dodged a bullet, V. Only a vindictive psycho would do this to someone.”
“Maybe so.” Viktor sniffled, rubbing away the evidence before the little stream of tears reached the sweet little mole under his eye. “It doesn’t change the present situation.” He let out a shuddering breath, a strangled emotion behind his voice: “And neither will moping over my bastard ex.”
Wow.
Viktor rarely cursed.
Wow. Jayce cleared his throat, vainly trying not to appear too surprised (or too enthralled). “So. What do you have in mind?”
It was easy enough to just not go. To burn the paper out back. Maybe make a bonfire and cuddle up under the stars. Remind Viktor that he was worth more than that piece of shit and that they didn’t need to play into his ego by making a scene, kicking up a fuss,
(Though Jayce will be making a personal visit just to kick his ass. Though that part was better done without Viktor’s knowledge.)
Viktor pulled away, just enough to look straight into Jayce’s eyes. Jayce held his breath.
Viktor was always gorgeous. It was a fact that Jayce acknowledged and squirreled away beside other everyday wonders. Sunrises and sunsets and the blaze of gold in Viktor’s eyes when he had a plan he wanted to set in motion.
No matter how many times Jayce had seen it, it always took his breath away.
And it usually meant trouble. “Jayce…”
Lots and lots of trouble. “Y-Yeah?”
“Come with me.”
Anywhere, Jayce’s brain immediately thought before he put the hard stop on the neural processes before his mouth opened. “Of course.” Jayce kicked himself. As if that was much better. “Where are we going?” he tried again.
“To my ex’s wedding.” Those eyes of molten gold gleamed and Jayce found himself falling in love with his best friend all over again: “As my date.”
It wasn’t a healthy decision. None of this was. Jayce knew the right thing to do was say No, set a firm boundary that he wasn’t about to be part of Viktor’s ploy to get back at his evil ex for the immature stunt he pulled by pulling an even bigger and even more childish ruse just to get under his skin and risk a potentially innocent bystander caught in the crossfire of the messy end of a three-year relationship.
“Checking in?” the hotel receptionist asked.
“Yes,” Viktor said, pulling out his ID. “Reservation for one room, under Viktor Novotný.”
“Well, looks like the grooms really went all out with the accommodations,” Jayce commented lightly. “Well, I guess if there’s one thing Dmitri’s known for, it’s making quite the impression.”
“Oh, guests for a wedding?” the receptionist asked lightly. “We had a sizeable party come in throughout the day.”
“Yes,” Jayce chimed in, all smiles with an arm over Viktor’s shoulder. “We’re here to celebrate the happy couple.”
“And maybe enjoy ourselves a little while we’re here,” Viktor murmured, resting his head on Jayce’s chest.
Jayce felt his heartrate skyrocket, insides fluttering up a hurricane. But on the outside, they seemed perfectly content. A happy couple themselves, looking to celebrate a loved one’s big day.
Instead of tormenting one of the grooms with the biggest mistake he’s ever made—
(and one of the biggest triumphs Jayce has ever received.)
“Here we are—your room, sirs.” She slid the card keys over to the desk and gave a polite smile. “The penthouse suite is all yours.”
Viktor’s smile almost fell off his face. “Penthouse—”
“Surprise,” Jayce chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I made the call earlier to give us an upgrade. After all, we’re celebrating too, aren’t we, baby?”
Not that Viktor was entirely aware of that part.
But if they could give Dmitri the fright of his life the moment he stepped out of the honeymoon suite to find Jayce and Viktor waiting by the elevator, then Jayce could just chalk that up to being part of the plan.
“Oh, Jayce…you shouldn’t have…” Viktor murmured, eyes trained to the ground coyly. But Jayce was well aware from the strain in his voice and the way Viktor’s hand gripped his bicep with his claws that he wasn’t too keen on the change.
The receptionist chuckled. “Enjoy the special occasion, sirs.”
“Thank you,” Jayce smiled, leading Viktor towards the elevators as his best friend sent him a confused and panicked look as they turned away.
“Why the long face?” Jayce chuckled. Viktor sent him a glare as the elevator doors closed. “The flight must have really taken a lot out of you,” Jayce observed with a worried frown. “That’s all right, we’ll relax tonight. Maybe get a massage.”
“The penthouse?” Viktor looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
Or lost one entirely. Jayce grinned at him like he hadn’t just dropped a few thousand for this upgrade. “Gotta make sure we send a message, right?”
“And what message is that?” Viktor hissed, likely crumbling under the thought of the financial strain this little comeuppance of theirs was costing them.
But it was well worth it. “That I can take better care of you than he can.”
A little blush.
A tiny victory.
A tiny laugh. Incredulous. Incredibly fond as Viktor swept a lock of hair from his eyes. “Dmitri already set that bar pretty low, didn’t he?”
He certainly did. And Jayce wanted Viktor to make sure he saw the stark contrast. The undeniable comparison. “I like to exceed expectations.” Show Viktor his confidence. Show Viktor that Jayce wasn’t afraid to put his comfort first. To surprise him and show him he was worth the price of luxury handed to him on a silver platter.
You know, as long as Jayce’s wallet could take the hit. “Plus, what’s wrong with me taking care of you?”
Viktor opened his mouth. Then closed it. The red on his cheeks remained, dusting across his nose and all the way to the tips of his ears. “I appreciate you agreeing to do this, Jayce. But don’t feel like you have to go along with everything without a say. If you feel at all uncomfortable, I—”
“Trust me, V.” Jayce’s hand found the small of Viktor’s back, the touch reassuring, warm— “I’m not doing anything I don’t want.”
And a tiny bit possessive.
The elevator doors opened with a Ding! And just like that, Viktor drew away, straightening himself and clearing his throat. “Thank you, Jayce.” And with that, made a hasty retreat to the hallway, a hurried, “Let’s get settled in, shall we?” thrown over his shoulder.
Jayce chuckled. An interesting reaction—but not an entirely unwelcome one. It was the most honest reaction he got from his partner the moment they stepped into the hotel together, rehearsing their lines and practicing casual intimacy with ease.
Viktor must not have anticipated Jayce “acting” much the same even without eyes on them. But of course, this was all part of Jayce’s plan: the more Viktor got used to treating their relationship as romantic,
The easier it may be for Viktor to imagine them as an actual couple. And maybe, Viktor might realize that they didn’t have to play pretend after all.
The penthouse suite certainly lived up to the luxurious photos posted on the hotel’s website: spacious with a lounging area and entertainment system, a dining area with a stocked fridge and complimentary treats and pastries, an enormous bathroom with shower and hot tub, and the balcony overlooking a stunning view of the city.
And just as advertised—
Viktor frowned. “Wait, there’s—”
Only one bed.
Jayce coughed. “Well, it’s bigger than a King, and—” Sure, there were other rooms to choose from, even the penthouses. Multiple beds. Multiple rooms within the same suite offering all the privacy two platonic friends on a mission together could very well ask for.
Except that wasn’t what Jayce was asking for. All he was asking for was a chance. “Well, I couldn’t possibly get a room with two beds if I’m going to be your boyfriend accompanying you to your bastard ex’s wedding, right?”
Viktor gave him a weak smile. “Right…Right! That’s excellent thinking, Jayce.” He nodded to himself, buying the excuse with every passing second as Jayce quietly breathed out a sigh of relief. “But, ah, in the meantime, I can sleep on the couch, o-or—”
Jayce was familiar with this Viktor, too:
Unsteady,
Unsure,
Nervous,
Easily willing to dismiss his own comforts, shying away from asking too much, from asking anything at all—
(From saying anything at all.)
Which was why this entire scheme was perfect. For at least even a moment, a second of fiery outrage and vindicated pettiness, Viktor was willing to lower his walls and demand Jayce come ruin his ex’s wedding with him by coming as his “optional”
plus one, as his date—
As his lover.
And Jayce knew an opportunity when he saw one. “Really?” he chuckled. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you sleep on the couch?”
Naturally, Viktor wanted to argue. “Jayce, you shouldn’t have to take the couch if you paid for it—”
But Jayce wasn’t relenting. Not this time. Not when they’ve had plenty of missed opportunities already. “It’s plenty big enough for us both.”
Viktor stiffened and it almost made Jayce falter.
Almost. It wasn’t like they haven’t shared beds before. Years of friendship and crashing in each other’s spaces had made that almost inevitable.
But the last time they did was the night Dmitri had broken up with Viktor.
The time before that was before Viktor and Dmitri had dated.
Jayce hadn’t known he’d miss Viktor’s warmth like that until it was gone. Gone with the other acts of casual intimacy between them, the everyday affections that Jayce hadn’t even realized were woven into their friendship. He hadn’t even realized just how naturally he became drawn to Viktor, gravitating towards him naturally, a binary star system falling into orbit. Well, until Dmitri threw them off balance.
He wondered if Viktor missed it too.
Viktor gave him a weary sigh, unwilling to argue; probably relenting given Jayce’s infamous stubborn streak. “All right, but I’d prefer if you kept your snoring to a minimum.”
The comment sent Jayce sputtering. “E-excuse me?! I do not snore—”
And sent a bloom of warmth spreading across Jayce’s chest as Viktor sent him a fond, teasing grin. “You snore, Jayce.”
“No way!” he argued. “You never told me before.”
Viktor sent him a sheepish smile. “Eh, I was trying to be polite.”
Jayce snorted, rolling his eyes (though thoughtfully and dutifully taking Viktor’s luggage into the room. He is a good boyfriend, after all.) “And now you’re not?”
“Well, you’re supposed to be my boyfriend,” Viktor reasoned with a thoughtful hum, sending a storm of butterflies kicking up a frenzy behind Jayce’s ribs. “We can have these, ah, intimate conversations now, right?”
Viktor was teasing him. Jayce had an entire garden of affections and adoration budding around his heart, petals and thorns and all, and Viktor was teasing him.
Jayce undeniably loved him. The sting of the realization and the slice of hurt at knowing Viktor had only meant it as a joke was almost strong enough to break him.
But Jayce wouldn’t be Viktor’s partner if he didn’t volley back the careless words with his own: “Showing me your true colors after all these years.” Jayce shook his head, trying (in vain) to hide his grin as he brought the rest of the bags to the adjoining closet.
Viktor sat primly upon the edge of the bed, looking mighty pleased with himself. As if Jayce didn’t have him exactly where he wanted him. “Yes, unfortunately for you, it’s a bit too late to back out.” Viktor gave a languid stretch, and Jayce tried not to keep his ravenous stare too obvious. “Now, you mentioned a massage? Did the package come with a spa?”
It did.
“Nah, that was extra.” Jayce paused, trying to keep his voice even. “But I could do it.”
Viktor raised a brow. “You know how to massage?”
“I’m a man of many talents, Viktor.” He flashed him a smile. “You chose a real winner this time.”
Viktor sent him a look. One that Jayce had trouble describing. A fine mix between grimacing discomfort and fond disbelief, if he really had to try.
Sharing a bed AND trying to get your paws all over him?
Even Jayce was surprised by his own greed sometimes.
“Okay, but this real winner better leave my spine intact—well, as intact as you started,” Viktor amended, clearing his throat and turning away as he unbuttoned his shirt, utterly oblivious to the dangerous stutter in Jayce’s heart. “I’d actually like to enact my vengeance with my current state of mobility if we’re going to sit through that blasted ceremony and through the couples’ dance.”
Jayce gave a hard swallow as Viktor hesitated on removing the rest of his shirt, likely sensing the heat of Jayce’s gaze before he could even shrug off to reveal a bare shoulder. “Don’t worry, V! I’ll be gentle.” Jayce winced. “I’ll make sure you feel good.”
Viktor sent him that grimacing discomforted look again.
“Just take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
Viktor barked out a laugh.
Jayce was well aware of his—struggle with compulsion. Impulsivity. To act without thinking; to think and overthink and bury doubt with self-assurance, reassurance, and deflecting, twisting logic that would color a contortionist impressed.
Physical touch with Viktor was part of that.
A clap to his shoulder, a thoughtless touch to his waist, a gentle, firm hand on the small of his back—
(Viktor had taken it all in stride; hadn’t questioned it; hadn’t brushed him off, turned away—
Not until he started seeing another man.)
It soothed something in Jayce, especially as their friendship flowered and bloomed. Jayce was a very physical person and he found comfort in touch. He found comfort in Viktor. The drive to touch his best friend was natural. A predictable process in Jayce’s own inner-workings.
“You’re tensing up already,” Jayce chuckled, having just warmed his hands enough to know that it definitely wasn’t from the cold.
“Ticklish,” Viktor said simply, his muscles loosening just a bit under the pressure of Jayce’s hands.
Touching Viktor like this went beyond all that.
From quietly placing a comforting hand on his back on bad days, rubbing his shoulder or elbowing him after their typical banter, offer something more real than just his presence on bad pain days, reaching out towards him, physically gravitating to him because being with Viktor was home,
Touch was communication.
Jayce wondered if Viktor understood it in every wordless press of his fingertips to the knots on Viktor’s back. Every rub and knead to areas of tension at his neck and shoulders, and taking care to the delicate areas where Viktor’s back brace supported him, a confession, a love letter, a serenade and ballad. If Viktor would let him.
“I assure you: I won’t break,” Viktor murmured, a sleepy sigh leaving him despite the lukewarm critique.
Jayce gave a chuckle, pressing deeper to his paraspinals. “Yeah, but can you assure me that you’re not gonna jump out of your skin?”
Comfort.
Health.
“Hmph.” Viktor stretched and adjusted the pillow beneath him. “I will assume you know what you’re doing.”
Affection—
“I always do—you know me, I’m quite thorough.” Jayce pressed with a little more force. A little more intention. Jayce should have known, really.
Viktor was never one to pick up on subtlety. “Really… so then why do I always have to go through your proofs when you start jotting them down across three different journals—
“When it comes to you, anyways.” Viktor went stiff right under him as Jayce pressed his thumbs across his trapezius before melting in soundless breath.
Intimacy.
Jayce went lower and lower, drawing more little hisses and shuddering sighs from Viktor’s mouth, wondering just when he’d find—
“A-ah…”
Jayce held his breath. “Did that hurt?”
Viktor opened his mouth. A word formed, maybe passed through his lips in silence. Then he closed it again. “Just a sore spot.”
Jayce nodded. Went slower, this time. Deeper. Little circles where Viktor’s stresses melted along with the tension.
“Hm…you know, you really are quite good,” Viktor murmured, words almost slurring together.
It made Jayce preen with pride. “What can I say? I’ve been told I’m quite good with my hands.” Engineer, after all.
“Yes, yes…” Viktor must be rolling his eyes, amusement falling to silence. Then: “You must have had lots of practice.”
Not really. Jayce only looked at tutorials and videos after he noticed Viktor’s stiffening posture during the flight over. Complimentary wi-fi and five hours on the plane gave him very little else to do and think about while flying 30,000 feet in the air while conspiring to sabotage a wedding with his best friend.
But he wasn’t about to tell Viktor that. “You could say that,” Jayce answered, keeping the response light. Vague. Indeed, Viktor could say that, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily true. “I haven’t heard complaints yet!”
n of one, but he hadn’t had Viktor to inform Jayce he was doing a horrendous job!
Viktor returned the comment in kind. Light. “Hm.” Vague. “Yes, I do believe I am feeling much better. Thank you, Jayce…I must say I am in agreement with your glowing reviews: you’re quite good with your hands.”
Jayce had just reached his hips, the delicate line of Viktor’s waist finally in his grasp when he looked up with a hopeful, “Really?”
Until the moment came to pass and Viktor was suddenly shifting beneath him, turning and sitting upright with a little stretch and a tentative shrug of both his shoulders. Jayce tried not to be too disappointed that their little session had come to a close, but Viktor’s posture was definitely way more relaxed.
Tense, but at least he wasn’t wincing in pain as he stretched. Even his expression was schooled to a quiet calm as he nodded. “Yes. I feel quite energized. Enough so—that I feel well enough for a walk.”
That made sense. Viktor wasn’t a fan of air travel due to cramped accommodations, limited leg room, and even more limited opportunities to mobilize. “Sure! The access to the rooftop bar isn’t far from here either, we can just—”
“Yes, that sounds lovely,” Viktor said, putting on his undershirt and applying his brace, back turned to Jayce as he faced the golden skyline of the city. “We can go after my walk.”
Jayce felt his heart drop like a stone at the pit of his stomach.
My walk.
But all Jayce could do was nod along, sitting up on his side of the bed and watch as Viktor buttoned up his shirt, an echoing emptiness reverberating with his words as his chest hollowed with disappointment. “That—that’s great. Sure thing.”
Distance was communication, too.
Vitriol aside, Viktor wasn’t sure if he could actually survive this.
In truth, half of Viktor was well aware that this stupid decision to get back at his ex was probably going to cost him the most meaningful relationship he had left.
(The most meaningful relationship he’s ever had, if he were honest with himself.)
(Which was likely the reason why things with Dmitri hadn’t worked out, despite earnest efforts in the past three years.)
Was it worth it?
Of course not.
Nothing was worth losing Jayce.
And that was just the damnest thing, wasn’t it?
To Jayce—this was nothing. Pretending to be lovers with his best friend to get after the guy that broke his best friend’s heart was something he’d just do for any and every single one of his friends. Jayce was like that. Too big a heart. Too careless with his affections.
Viktor was his best friend.
But that wasn’t saying much when Jayce was the Golden Boy and Viktor was just—
There.
For Jayce, this would mean nothing.
For Viktor, it would have to mean nothing, too. Because at the end of the day, when they took their flight home, when they drove back to their separate apartments, and Viktor would have to carry on, knowing that this trip would end in nothing but a memory—
That every touch, fake kiss, every sweetened lie had been a façade meant to drive Dmitri into a furious rage after the most damning insult he could have sent him,
(Six months. Six months. Some of Viktor’s clothes were probably still in his apartment when he’d already found someone new.
Someone who wasn’t broken.
Someone who wasn’t hung up on his best friend of nearly a decade.
Someone who Dmitri could look at and think They choose me, again and again, without doubt.)
At the end of the day, Viktor would be returning to his home alone. He’d have to explain to their friends what they saw in photos and socials and maybe will have to keep the charade going online for the next few months, but inevitably, the mask will have to come off, Viktor will have to step off the stage,
And Viktor will have to go on, trying to scrub the memory of Jayce’s touch on his skin, the frustrating way his heart leapt at the petnames he used that didn’t suit Viktor at all, and the fantasy that at some point in Viktor’s life,
He had Jayce Talis’s heart,
If only for show.
And life would go on. He’d meet Jayce at work. They’d have lunch together if meetings weren’t conflicting. They’d chat and make weekend plans all while Viktor sat helplessly in love with a man that would never, can never feel the same way.
Viktor scoffed. He truly was a lost cause, wasn’t he?
Even Dmitri saw it after giving three determined and honest years together. Viktor thought he was giving it his all, too.
But they wouldn’t be in this mess if he did. And Viktor proved Dmitri right in every self-destructive and self-sabotaging way possible:
When Dmitri called things off, where did Viktor go to first?
When Dmitri found someone worthy of his time, someone he could love and promise his entire heart to, who was the first person Viktor sought to ruin that happiness?
And suddenly, none of those three years mattered. Viktor was back at square one:
Finding comfort, affection, and pining uselessly for a man whose heart could never belong to him.
At least there was one thing Viktor retained from his failed relationship:
“Viktor?”
He turned to his name, to a voice that echoed in the half-empty rooms of his apartment, and conversations that played on repeat in Viktor’s head for the past six months.
It wasn’t a voice that Viktor missed. The shock on his ex’s face was quickly replaced by haughty arrogance. Demeaning, dismissive. “Why...I didn’t think you’d show your face.” Utterly deplorable.
Any guilt Viktor felt at that moment evaporated immediately. “You sent an invitation with an option to RSVP.” He shot Dmitri a tight smile. “Of course I had to come.”
A petty streak, driven purely by spite.
“Hmph.” Dmitri wrinkled his nose, as if he’d caught an unsightly scene before him as Viktor did nothing but stand his ground and refuse to shrink against this man’s scrutiny. “You never did learn how to take a hint.”
“Strike one,” Viktor said mildly, still keeping his smile on his face, the light in his eyes, refusing to show this man just how much he’d broken him down over the past few months.
It was inevitable. How things deteriorated between them. Dmitri thought he could fix him. Thought he could control and mold Viktor to be the partner he wanted. And for many years, Viktor believed him, wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for him, wanted to prove to him, to himself, and to everyone who watched Viktor silently destroy himself for another man, that he can finally make the smart decision to move on.
But people don’t really change, do they? “No, I argue that I read between the lines just fine.” After all, Viktor never truly gave himself hope that his best friend would ever return his feelings. “You were just never good at making me follow orders.”
His heart just couldn’t bend to the lie. “And look where that’s landed you.” Dmitri feigned a look of pity, of empathy, shaking his head and tutting quietly. Throwing insecurity Viktor had right in his face while trying to maintain moral superiority.
As if that could break what was already broken.
Viktor’s smile widened, a strange calm blanketing over him. Especially at catching a welcome sight over at a distance, behind Dmitri as the man continued to exert his perceived control of the situation. “Where exactly has it landed me, Dmitri?”
Dmitri’s smile was cold. At one time, Viktor didn’t think he had a mean bone in his body. Always so forgiving. Always so jovial. Always willing to talk things out with wine, kisses, and some psychological wisdom that never did quite land. “Attending your ex’s wedding—”
“That you so graciously invited me to—” Viktor added with a laugh.
“Alone—” he sneered. The mask was ripped off. Standing before Viktor was a man who cataloged every mistake, every vulnerability, and every personal failure and sought to weaponize it in the worst way possible. “While still waiting uselessly and putting that man on a pedestal when he’d never look your way—”
And that made this moment all the sweeter: “Strike two,” Viktor smirked.
“Face it, Viktor,” Dmitri sneered, face growing redder by the second as Viktor refused to fold. Refused to cry. Refused to show remorse for what Dmitri must have felt was three years of abject torture for tying himself to a broken man. “This is why you’ll always be alone. This is why you’re a lost cause. This is why my life is better without you. Because why on earth should anyone put up with—”
“Viktor!”
“And strike three,” Viktor grinned, eyes sharp, smile just as cutting, before his expression softened, filling with adoration, opening his arms as Jayce jogged to his side, pulling him in a tight embrace.
Jayce seamlessly followed up the action with a tender kiss to his temple, at the best angle for Dmitri to see. “There you are! We have reservations, babe!”
Viktor tried not to look. Tried to appear as utterly enthralled with Jayce’s presence (and he was, don’t get him wrong. But the sight of his ex with his eyes rounded in horror and all color drained from his face as Viktor leaned against Jayce’s chest was just as enchanting.)
Viktor barely reacted as Dmitri experienced an entire existential crisis. It was difficult, but eventually, Dmitri regained his composure, albeit shaky and shuddering. “…Talis.” With fear or visceral rage, Viktor wasn’t sure.
That’s not what mattered. Jayce opened his mouth. Then closed it as he thought long and hard.
Viktor sighed. “Takiapolis.”
Jayce gave his hip an appreciative squeeze. “Sure.” And that was it. He turned to Viktor with warmth and affection, all nearly 200lbs of hard muscle and tender smiles. “Ready, baby?”
Viktor already knew he was doomed from the start. But that didn’t mean that Viktor wasn’t going to commit this moment to memory for the rest of his life and would surely haunt him in his dreams once the charade was up.
But at least he’ll always have the sight of his ex, sputtering and trembling with (self-)righteous fury at the petname. “B-Baby?!”
(The very same petname Viktor rejected and scoffed at when Dmitri had used it once upon a time)
And from a glance, Viktor could see it then: the vulnerability. The fresh hurt. The sight of a man’s worst fears come to life: “You two—”
And Viktor had to admit: it was possibly the most appealing face Dmitri has ever made. “Naturally,” Viktor said, leaning into Jayce’s touch easily, naturally. “Thank you, by the way,” he continued, voice steady, wanting—needing—Dmitri to hear how his voice never wavered, how his words never faltered: “I wanted to attend your celebration to thank you, because in the end, you were right.” Because this was likely the most honest thing he ever told the man that loved him for three years and then decided he wasn’t worth fighting for: “We were never meant for each other.”
But there was one thing that being with Dmitri taught Viktor, one thing that three years of trying in earnest forged in him:
And that was how to be a better liar.
“The one I’ve wanted has been right here, all along.” A half-truth. All the most believable lies took root in that fertile soil.
The words buzzed happily in Jayce’s head.
The one I’ve wanted—
—all along.
It made things so much simpler since Jayce didn’t have to pretend. “Had to thank you for that,” he said simply. “Sure, watching you fumble the best thing that’s ever happened to you for three years straight was a pain to watch, but I can’t complain.”
Jayce leaned in, pecking Viktor on the lips, his partner drawn to him, magnetic and irresistible to his touch without hesitation,
Seamlessly reacting to his Viktor. The same addictive push and pull that made them inseparable and entirely compatible in nearly every facet in their lives.
(And Jayce was already working on the parts that weren’t quite official yet.)
Another voice cut through the air.
“Dmitri—” A man approached them. Red hair. Brown eyes. Freckles dotting across his cheeks. The man that appeared beside Dmitri’s punchable face on that wedding invitation. He paused, concern melting to curiosity as he approached them with a beat of hesitation. “Oh, do you two know Dmitri?”
Viktor found his voice first. “Old friends,” he smiled. “Hi, are you Raphael?”
Raphael looked taken aback, but plastered on a tentative smile. “Yes, that’s me.” He turned to his fiancé and by then, Dmitri had already dug his grave considering his fiancé didn’t even recognize the man in front of him. “Dimi—”
The man Dmitri stole three years from when he should have been Jayce’s all along. “This is Viktor, darling,” he said, voice barely wobbling in the precarious situation. He shot a look at Jayce and his glare hardened. “And his plus one.”
Jayce’s jaw tightened.
Air quotes? Really, you fucker?
But Jayce brushed it aside. After all, now Jayce knew how to push the man’s buttons. “Yes, we’re both grateful for the—consideration.” Viktor continued to chat with Raphael with amiable ease while Dmitri stood frozen and watched them with darting eyes. “We’re looking forward to the happy couple’s celebration.”
Raphael looked taken aback by the news and sheer panic welled in Dmitri’s eyes as his fiancé rounded to him with shock, blurting out: “Wait—have you both been added to the guest list?”
“Haven't we?” Viktor sounded quite disappointed, confused, even a little hurt. “But we received the invitation!”
Raphael turned to Dmitri with a deathly glare.
“D-Darling, I can explain!”
“Dmitri…” Raphael started with a patient sigh. “We sent them an invitation? And you didn’t tell me to coordinate with our wedding planner?”
Dmitri tried to open his mouth, but nothing came out. Nothing that would incriminate him for using the invitation with the sole purpose of hurting Viktor. Jayce cleared his throat, ready to throw kindling to the fire. “Yeah, I thought it was strange. Your fiancé there just sent us an invite—super rude by the way—” Or throwing Dmitri under the bus. “—setting aside a date just two weeks before the wedding.”
“Dimi!”
“Ahaha…wait, sweetheart,” Dmitri started, holding his hands up defensively as he looked between his enraged fiancé and the ex that sought to ruin his life. ”I can explain—”
And was currently succeeding, by the looks of things. Viktor nodded sagely. “Ah, you should forgive him. He often acts quite emotionally, rather than logically.”
Raphael stiffened at that, hesitantly turning to Viktor with a raised brow and a cautious, curious: “Who are you again?”
“I’m assuming you mean in relation to Dmitri.” Viktor extended his hand. “It’s Viktor.” Raphael barely grazed his fingers before Viktor elaborated: “Dmitri and I dated in the past.” The hand froze in Viktor’s firm, confident shake, leaving his hand stiff and frozen as the wide-eyed stare on his face as Viktor’s hand found Jayce’s arm, a possessive touch lingering on the lines of muscle on his bicep. “And this is Jayce.” Jayce shared a conspiratory glance at Viktor, just as intimate and just as affectionate as any loving look as Viktor’s words came easily, naturally:
“My boyfriend.”
And suddenly, Dmitri, who sent that invitation to dredge up old wounds, to barge through the carefully cultivated months of peace and rebuilding to edge in a final say—
The man who wanted to leave Viktor broken with an echoing parting shot,
Suddenly fell silent.
“Do you think he’s giving the shmuck an earful?”
Viktor bit back a snicker. “He should. Really, sending out an invitation and then looking like a caught rat when we called his bluff.” He gave a disbelieving shake to his head as Jayce smiled, sharing a bit of chardonnay and schadenfreude with a clink to their glasses.
There was nothing more perfect than this moment: a Michelin-star rooftop restaurant in a gorgeous city, the ambience of romance in low lighting and the soft croon of smooth jazz,
And Viktor, glowing with mirth, buzzing with adrenaline, and tinkling out little giggles at the shared, cherished joy of destroying his ex with impeccable execution.
The table overlooked the dwindling light of the sky, just as dusk was about to settle with a blanket of stars over the sea of cityglow, and Jayce’s heart had never felt so full as he drunk in the sight of Viktor, smiling wider than he has in months—
Maybe even years.
Jayce hasn’t seen Viktor shining this brightly since the celebration dinner after the Distinguished Innovator’s competition after they took home first prize. Viktor had even pulled himself out of his stage fright to successfully drive home the win—
Even if he did vomit all over Jayce’s shoes backstage.
It was another memory that Jayce quietly savored, keeping it like a photograph in his back pocket, of all the precious moments he kept of Viktor. And if Jayce played his cards right…
He’ll have many more precious moments to keep forever.
But perfect moments weren’t meant to live forever. But new opportunities were always on the horizon. Jayce turned to discuss tomorrow’s plans, only to catch sight of a familiar pair.
Viktor’s gaze followed immediately, raising his brows as he lightly commented, “Oh, look what the cat dragged in,” beneath his breath.
“Oh, his fiancé doesn’t look too happy, does he?” Jayce commented mildly. He could only imagine the spat that ensued after Jayce announced that he and Viktor had reservations that they simply couldn’t miss, departing with matching smiles and sincere congratulations. “But Dmitri has that same dumb smirk on his face.”
“No, no, he’s on edge,” Viktor whispered, giving a discreet glance at the pair, feigning admiration at the décor as the couple was led towards their table. “Don’t look at his face,” Viktor instructed. “Look at his hands.”
Jayce raised a brow at the way Dmitri seemed to excessively use them to emphasize every gesture and every word. But they trembled when he placed them on his fiancé’s shoulder (and was promptly shoved aside). “Huh.” And was even more notable when he picked up a glass to sip some water to start. “Good eye.”
Viktor shrugged, taking in another sip. “You get better at reading someone after three years.” His hand trembled too.
“What about me?”
Viktor looked up with a raised brow. “Hm?”
“We’ve known each other for longer.” Jayce fidgeted in his seat, though attempted to mask the action by leaning in with a grin. “Do I have any tells?”
Viktor placed his glass down and hummed. “I didn’t think you needed one, really.” That surprised Jayce a fair amount. “I always assumed you wore your entire personality on your sleeve.”
Jayce let out a laugh. “Fair enough.” Jayce didn’t know if Viktor was being kind in saying that, or brutally honest. “I don’t think I’m too good at that, really,” Jayce confessed. “Reading people.”
There was a brief flicker of emotion that flashed across Viktor’s face. A little melancholic. A little rueful. A little understanding. “I’m not either, in all honesty. Too…” Viktor grimaced, another sour memory taking root.
“What?” Jayce asked, gently pulling Viktor back. “Guarded?”
“Maybe that’s a better word.” Viktor’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. “But sometimes, a bit too hopeful.”
“Hope is a good thing to have,” Jayce argued.
“Not if it ends up disappointing you at every turn.” Viktor sighed and while Jayce was more than willing to delve deeper into that subject (dive as deep as Viktor would let him, would allow his vulnerabilities to show before him instead of covering it up and turning away from him like he always did—) “But, enough of that. We have lots of things to be hopeful for, right?”
“Right!” Jayce agreed wholeheartedly, appreciative of the optimistic turn. “Of course we do.”
That was what he wanted to emphasize to Viktor all this time: that although Viktor placed his trust in the wrong man, that he had his heart and hopes placed in someone’s unworthy hands,
Viktor deserved better and had someone better offering him the world if he wanted it.
If he’d only open his eyes.
“We still have all the pre-wedding preparations to account for.”
Jayce froze for just a moment. “Oh. Right!” Jayce tried not to sound too disappointed. Tried not to wilt at the real reason they were here, on this romantic weekend, posing as a romantic couple.
“Speaking of which,” Viktor murmured, nodding in thanks as the waiter served them their meal. ”How did you get us a reservation this late?”
Jayce waved off the suspicion with an easy smile and boyish charm. “I called in a favor.”
Namely, begging for Cait for Cassandra to pull some strings—something Sprout had all but complained and reprimanded him as a waste of connections and resources to peacock an exaggerated projection of himself—
Until Jayce specified that it was Viktor he was peacocking for.
She hadn’t asked any more questions after that. Had simply told him that the reservation was under his name. And to buy Viktor dessert.
(Not long after that, he received a text from Vi:
“don’t fuck this up.”)
“Oh, they’re staring at us,” Viktor murmured, glancing a bit to the side where the pair were situated, almost in their direct line of sight.
Serendipity, opportunity— “Should we give them a little wave?”
Karmic justice. “Hm…” Whatever it was, it was certainly unrelenting once Viktor and Jayce agreed to this scheme. “It would get under Dmitri’s skin,” Viktor nodded. He then shot Jayce a grin. “But I think for maximum efficiency, we should ignore it for now.”
Jayce reached across the table and laid his hand on Viktor’s. “And get lost in each other?”
Viktor gave him a smile, flushing prettily under the glow of candlelight and the galaxy of city lights glimmering behind him. This instance only solidified what Jayce already knew. Once they’d come together, he and Viktor were inevitable. A fated pair. A perfect partnership.
A match made in heaven.
Especially when they had a shared goal. “Precisely.”
Jayce didn’t need to be told twice.
Viktor had caught Dmitri staring in their direction. Just a cursory glance that he never quite mastered. Not in the same way Viktor did after pining for a straight man for the past seven years.
It was all Viktor could focus on to keep his own heart intact.
They were on a mission.
Jayce was proving his kindness and his willingness to move mountains for his best friend, and Viktor had to remind himself again and again that for all the sleepless nights and tears he’d silently cried,
None of this was Jayce’s fault.
No, it was all Viktor’s own wretched selfishness.
They’d gotten through most of dinner while attempting to ignore the looks sent their way from across the room. Viktor had gotten quite good at pretending around Jayce. He’d been doing it for a better part of nearly a decade, after all.
More than once, Raphael had attempted to excuse himself, tried to stand, but Dmitri had urged him to stay. The cycle would continue then: talking, soothing, retaining conversation.
Then Jayce would do something like touch Viktor’s arm. And Viktor would let out a laugh (partly out of sheer nervousness, partly because he wanted to prove a point) and suddenly Dmitri’s eyes were on them all over again.
He wondered if it was in jealousy. In disgust.
In shame, just looking at Viktor, at the culmination of failure after three years spent with a man that claimed to choose him every day, only to show his true colors.
“Enjoying the dessert?” Jayce asked with a hopeful look. “We could try doing something romantic if they’re watching.”
“Depends.” Viktor asked, closing his eyes to enjoy the rich decadence of the chocolate gracing his tongue. “Are you going to shove it up my nose trying to feed me again, or are you going to let me keep my dignity?”
“I said I was sorry!” Jayce whined.
A double-edged sword. No matter what, Jayce would forgive him. Would do anything for him. Even agree to pretend to be in love with him. Risk his reputation, risk rumors, risk reprimands by their (his) friends for playing into this selfish and utterly juvenile ploy.
But Jayce would do it.
Because Jayce Talis was the most infuriatingly perfect man Viktor had ever met.
And Viktor knew that the stars would sooner fade than his heart lose an ounce of affection for this man.
“Looks like they spotted us,” Jayce grinned and Viktor felt his heart stutter in his chest as Jayce cocked a brow and leaned in to whisper, “Wanna go big?”
Even if every second pretending shattered just a tiny bit more of him.
“Just make sure they get a clear shot of us,” Viktor said, forcing a smile. “We can’t waste good opportunities.”
Contrary to popular belief (well, popular in their friend-group, that is), but Jayce wasn’t prone to poor decision-making.
Premature conviction, perhaps. But not bad decisions.
Because how bad could a decision be if it got him a date (“date”) with his best friend and love of his life sharing a bottle of chardonnay, and feeding one another Sacher-Torte?
Decadent and utterly diabolical, Jayce was well-aware. He knew of the burning stare beamed right at them as he focused on the sight of Viktor’s lips around the spoon after a careful, hesitant, coy bite, was well aware of the stirring argument and hushed hisses sent to one another from the table across—
“Oh, babe, you got a little something,” he murmured.
“Hm?” Viktor dabbed at his mouth in confusion. “Did you miss again?”
Jayce rolled his eyes, offering an indulgent smile at the tiny retort granting. He really does love this man. “Here, Iet me.” Jayce leaned closer,
Brushing his lips at the corner of Viktor’s mouth, an imaginary speck of chocolate sufficiently removed.
Viktor’s cheeks bloomed in a tantalizing blush almost immediately.
“Got it!” Jayce added cheerfully, as if his own heart weren’t pounding away a mile a minute.
It had garnered the exact response they wanted in the end:
A clatter of silverware and a chair scraping against the floor, followed by a gasped “Dimi?!”
And suddenly, there were eyes upon them. Not Jayce and Viktor, but upon a standing Dmitri and his shocked fiancé. “I—” Dmitri’s eyes searched the room. Viktor and Jayce turned to face him, practicing a confused expression towards the center of the commotion. “A-Apologies, dearest,” he stammered, turning mechanically towards his fiancé with a nervous chuckle. “I…I need a moment, that’s all!”
And with that, he brushed past the waitstaff, leaving his fiancé at the table, the distance between the pair filled with stares, whispers, and a lingering, uncomfortable silence.
Beneath their table, Viktor squeezed Jayce’s hand. Jayce didn’t know if it was out of congratulations or warning. On the outside, Viktor appeared unfazed, turning to Jayce while ignoring Raphael’s burning stare in their direction. From the corner of his eye, Jayce watched him keep his gaze on the empty chair where Dmitri sat. Shock melted to tension, then hardened to searing hurt and anger as he stood up quietly, ignoring the way people shifted their eyes. He vacated their table,
Whether to confront Dmitri or stalk back to their suite alone was still up in the air.
Viktor’s hand trembled under Jayce’s. Jayce simply squeezed back with gentle reassurance.
“Perhaps that was taking it too far,” Viktor murmured, doubt clouding the brilliant gold of his eyes.
"We're not responsible for their reaction,” Jayce reassured, voice soft but tone firm. “If they were getting married and were really sure of themselves, then there wouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“I—” A quick glance to the restaurant’s doors swinging open as Raphael departed made the suffocating air dissipate. Viktor’s jaw tensed as he wrestled with guilt. “I suppose you’re right.”
“He threw the first punch,” Jayce reminded him, still rubbing circles at the back of Viktor’s palm. Selfishly, Jayce knew that comforting Viktor in his decision (whether morally right or wrong) took precedence. Jayce remembered his own immediate anger, the fury that ran hot through his veins at the insult Viktor was served with that single invitation.
The same thought crossed their minds—
How long had Dmitri been seeing his fiancé before they made it official on socials? A few months?
Half a year?
Longer?
Regardless,
It was Dmitri’s own fucking fault. “We’re just giving him a taste of his own medicine,” Jayce soothed because this was for Viktor, because Dmitri had insulted and hurt the man he loves, and because Dmitri took the best thing that’s ever happened to Jayce’s life and dared to make him feel worthless, like a mistake,
When Jayce would give anything to make Viktor his.
“…right,” Viktor chuckled. The sound fell flat and splattered onto the plate in front of them. “A taste of his own medicine.”
Jayce frowned, reaching for Viktor’s hand again. “Viktor?”
“We played our part.” Viktor drew away, tidying up the silverware and staring at the half-eaten dessert. He didn’t seem to be hungry anymore. “You know, they really…stuck to the original recipe,” Viktor laughed humorlessly, pushing his dessert away. “This wasn’t sweet at all.”
It wasn’t often that Viktor proceeded with unclear goals. Conviction had been the very foundation of his being, even to his own detriment. This had been a rare exception,
And it suddenly landed him in a one-bedroom hotel with his best friend and unrequited love of his life as they planned to sabotage the man that broke Viktor’s heart—
(The same man that Viktor had been silently breaking for over three years for never choosing him first.)
All the while a (potentially) innocent bystander was getting caught in the crossfire.
And Jayce…
Well, Jayce was just being dragged along for the ride.
Viktor’s eyes flickered to his best friend, sad eyes following him to the bedroom as Viktor readied himself for bed. “Viktor—did I—” he paused, cautious and prodding. “Did I do something wrong?”
Viktor almost laughed at the absurdity of such a question. No, Jayce didn’t ask for this.
The blame solely fell on Viktor.
Viktor laid on his side of the bed. He stared up at the dark ceiling. He’d cited a headache to curl up in the dark to deal with these emotions. But Jayce never did leave things be. Never liked it when Viktor withdrew into himself for things that were out of Jayce’s control.
Viktor turned to face him. The sea of city lights made for a fantastic view. The ambience made it all too easy to see Jayce’s concern outlined by the night. “No, no of course not.” Jayce was just helping a friend. All he saw was Viktor at his very lowest, taking months to rebuild, months to look like a person again, opening his home, inconveniencing Jayce is every way possible because Viktor couldn’t fathom piecing his life together after the man he claimed to love finally opened his eyes and saw Viktor for what he was.
A lost cause.
It wasn’t Jayce’s fault. Not when Viktor made him believe he needed this. Not when Viktor painted himself as the victim all along.
“I just…” Viktor’s mouth twisted to a bitter smile as he laid and stared at the ceiling. “I wanted to prove a point to him. That. That I could move on too. That my life didn’t just fall apart while he got his life together.” Viktor laughed hollowly. “But, ah…I suppose that’s a lie, isn’t it?”
“It’s not a lie, Viktor.” Viktor barely felt Jayce’s weight dip in the mattress as he inched towards him. Jayce must have really paid a premium for a room with a bed like this. “You’re slowly getting back to yourself,” Jayce insisted.
“I suppose.” Viktor’s lips quirked to a wry smile. “But is it worth it?”
Jayce snorted. “He sent you a wedding invitation after you broke up six months ago. And he was betting on you not showing up.”
Viktor scoffed. “Fair point.” Lesser evils.
Sometimes Viktor had to settle for them.
“The pre-wedding party is tomorrow,” Jayce murmured, his warmth, his closeness suddenly making it harder to pretend he and his best friend weren’t conspiring to ruin his ex’s wedding. “You think Dmitri and his fiancé saved us seats?”
Viktor huffed, trying to dispel the tension with a humorless: “Of course not.”
“Cool, cool,” Jayce nodded, leaning over on the bed and propping his head up with his arm to face Viktor’s side. “Let’s crash it.”
Viktor really was hopelessly in love with this man.
“They’ll have security escort us out of the actual wedding by the end of this.” Viktor gave a laugh. A bittersweet tinge of humor laced his quiet words. “If they haven’t already.”
“Not if he wants to keep up his appearances,” Jayce pointed out. “Fucking Dmitri always did care more about that than what truly matters.”
Viktor snorted. “How do you suddenly know my ex better than I do?”
Jayce sent him a look. One that Viktor had trouble describing. A fine mix between hopeless exasperation and fond disbelief, if he really had to try. “Because he let you go. For whatever stupid reason.”
Viktor wasn’t a religious man. But he supposed he did hold on to the idea of spiritualism. Of higher powers. Of science as an observation of the observable. But maybe there was something unobservable out there. Something that did the observing instead.
And whatever that Observer observed, Viktor must have royally fucked up somewhere along the way for Them to send someone as perfect as Jayce Talis to torment him every day of his life.
“You always know what to say.” Yet the look in Viktor’s eyes told Jayce a different story. Quiet. The silence cut with the knife’s edge between resignation and remorse.
And just like that, Viktor turned away from him. The imperfect curve of his back; the scars and rivets of his spine facing Jayce in a show of defiance, in a voice of vulnerability. Viktor didn’t want to speak any more. Had given up conversation in lieu of things better left unsaid when Jayce wanted the very opposite.
For six months Viktor mourned that man, mourned the three years he had with fucking Dmitri. The memories and promises they made to each other that he threw away and decided to feign and forge with another.
Jayce was furious on his behalf.
But glad.
Glad that Viktor hadn’t found his heart with that man. Glad that Viktor didn’t break from the betrayal, the anger, and the pain. Glad that Viktor didn’t surrender the rest of his heart in pieces to something that wasn’t enough, that wasn’t suited to him,
And yes.
Jayce was glad that he still had a chance.
(Of course he did.
He had to.)
Viktor flinched but said nothing as Jayce drew him close. Pressed Viktor’s back to Jayce’s chest, the weight of his arm draped over Viktor’s middle, and Jayce had to wonder if Viktor could feel his heartbeat right through his warmth.
Viktor said nothing but slowly, surely, relaxed against him, and Jayce felt affection bloom in roses and thorns across his chest, snaking between his ribs.
It was love, if Viktor would allow it.
If Viktor would let him.
Jayce laid in silence for the remainder of the night, holding Viktor close, and hoping that for once, Viktor wouldn’t hold him at arm’s length.
Sleep didn’t come easily for Viktor.
Viktor knew Jayce meant well by providing physical comfort. It was one of Jayce’s more casual love languages. Viktor long learned not to read too deeply into lingering touches and too-long embraces, even the sweet reassurances and kind words that Jayce used with him.
This was how Viktor lived for almost a decade. How Viktor had been tormented for over a decade.
Jayce wore his heart on his sleeve. If he had meant any more, felt any more, then he would have said something. He wasn’t a coward like Viktor. He knew better than Viktor.
Viktor was his best friend and Jayce never let him forget it. He was not unloved or uncared for or neglected or dismissed, he simply—
Wasn’t someone Jayce would ever have room in his heart for.
And Viktor made peace with that fact. So much so that he knew, without a doubt, nothing would change after this charade was through. So much so that Viktor hadn’t even shed a tear at the cruelty of Jayce’s kindness as he held him throughout the night.
So much so that Viktor’s long-since given up hoping.
Too hopeful, indeed.
But in the quiet of Viktor’s mind, between the iron-wrought assurances, swears, and oaths, and countless conversations he’s had with himself, with Sky, with Dmitri—
There was no harm in relaxing against Jayce’s arms, basking in his warmth,
And playing pretend—for just one night. No harm in spending one weekend,
Just letting himself fall for once, and never again—
And letting himself believe that he was held and loved, in tune in the very same lonely melody,
By his straight best friend.
There was no harm in pretending,
Right?