the gravity of the sun
Viktor always hated parties.
Really, because of so many factors, he did not enjoy any gathering of more than, maybe, six-or-seven people, and he only enjoyed a gathering of that size if he knew (and knew he could trust) everyone in attendance, and if the meeting centered around something productive- something real, rather than the frivolity of pleasantry that elite life in Piltover seemed to center around.
He could usually get out of them, though. There was usually some excuse he could think up- something in the lab that needed to be monitored, or some made-up symptom of his condition that prevented him from leaving Acadamy grounds. More often these days, it was an actual symptom preventing him from going- which worried Viktor more and more every time it happened, but was besides the point. Sometimes, his name wasn’t even written on the invitation. Those instances always elicited a reaction of righteous indignation from Jayce. Jayce was nothing if not righteously indignant on Viktor’s behalf, always, and Viktor never had the heart to tell him he didn’t want to go to the bi-monthly faculty gala in the first place.
Of course, in their line of work, and especially as their work continued, there were some events he simply couldn’t avoid. As they made more and more progress with Hextech, the Council took more and more interest. In particular, Councilor Mel Medarda took great interest in their work- she’d stop by the laboratory frequently to ask how things were progressing, with an intelligence and genuine curiosity Viktor wouldn’t have expected from a politician. Admittedly, he had, at first, attributed her interest in their work to the... tension between the Councilor and Jayce, but over the years, he had taken a liking to the woman.
Not enough of a liking, though, to make him appreciate the party she had all-but-forced him to attend. It had been thrown in their honor- Jayce’s honor, really, something that was never stated but always implied- and Viktor figured himself too polite a man to not attend an event explicitly held in his honor (even if his name was printed in far smaller a font than Jayce’s, and positioned beneath his where it was less likely to be seen).
So, here he was.
It was not as if it was a bad party. From what little Viktor knew about hosting, he could tell Mel had done well. The music was light and lovely, the decorations were pretty without being gaudy, there was food and drink and dancing aplenty. But no amount of effort on Mel’s part would make Viktor enjoy the party she had so carefully put together. For every minute he spent there, it became so clear all the ways he did not belong.
For an event held, supposedly, in his honor, it was remarkable how quickly he had been shoved to the side. For a brief two minutes, he had shared the spotlight with Jayce as they entered together, side-by-side, but that was long gone now. Just as well, Viktor justified to himself. Did he really want to remain in the center, in the eyes of all in attendance, for so long? Not beside Jayce- Jayce, who was the epitome of all they were, all they had branded themselves as for outsiders. Tall and strong and beautiful Jayce Talis, charismatic and charming and funny Jayce Talis, Jayce Talis who had pulled himself up from a background low enough that it seemed monumental that he had done so, but not so low he would ever be called a fissure-rat behind his back.
No, staying in the center with Jayce would be worse. On the edges of the gathering, he would be free from the judging eyes of the many. While others milled about the room in conversation or twirled about the dance floor, Viktor sat by himself at a side table, his crutch propped up beside him. Before him was a plate of rich canapes, some garnished with actual genuine gold flakes (for no reason other than contentiousness- they tasted like nothing and had the texture of paper), which he had been picking around for the better part of the events duration. Servers came around routinely to refill everyone’s glasses, but Viktor was still on his first glass of sweet white wine. He had never been much of a drinker.
It was as if he was not there. Very occassionally, someone- usually a professor he had worked with, or some other Academy higher-up who hoped to wish him well- would come up to him, and they’d have a brief, polite conversation. Sometimes they asked specific technical questions about his and Jayce’s work, sometimes they simply wanted to congratulate him on good work well done. Often, they were pulled away by dancing or more compelling conversation partners before any real discussion could be had. Always, they looked at him with pity.
Pity, Viktor had decided, was worse than being ignored. If no one bothered to talk to him- if they left him alone, pretended he was not even there- at least, that might be tolerable. But pity- to be looked at only with the kind of gaze one would only use upon a sick puppy- that was humiliating. Was it worse to be humiliated, or forgotten?
But, most other guests left him alone, so it seemed the choice had been made up for him, and forgotten he was. At an event dedicated to his accomplishment.
At least Jayce seemed to be enjoying himself. Viktor observed him throughout the great length, except for the short times his attention was obligated to conversation rather than people-watching. Jayce moved about the room with the grace of an ice dancer and the confidence of a warrior. Viktor knew, in truth, that his partner was not as confident or charming in private as he was in public. In the seclusion of their lab, Jayce had revealed- knowingly and unknowingly- the more doubtful, self-conscious, perfectionist side of his magnetic nature. (Charm was a far more debatable subject; though, Viktor doubted the elite bachlorettes of Piltover would find a man who had once spent minutes looking for his googles while they were sitting right on his face less charming than he did.)
Still- what a sight to behold! Though he had spent considerable time on the dance floor with a number of different partners (all the athletic training Jayce did made him quite the agile dancer, but it couldn’t make up for his complete lack of rhythm), he was now conversing with a crowd of young socialites on the other side of the room. He stood in a shaft of light from one of the ornate chandeliers illuminating the room, its radiance spilling all over his radiance. He smiled, and laughed, and never quite met Viktor’s observing gaze, because he did not know he was being watched. Those around him hung on his every word, laughed at all his undoubtedly silly jokes, clung to him and around him.
He was like the sun itself- pulling everyone in close to him. He was the Man of Progress- an unstoppable beacon of all the good that was to come to the world. He was warm, and giving, and too bright to look at- and what did that make Viktor? Just another stray meteor, caught in his orbit?
One of the men Jayce was talking to cupped his cheek, pulling him closer- and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. Something burned like a hot coal within Viktor’s chest. Was it envy for Jayce’s position, for the attention he so rightfully and so easily received? Was it jealousy? Viktor did not fancy himself an easily jealous man, but it was hard not to feel wanting when constantly faced with everything he did not have.
But he did not envy the material wealth or working body that Jayce possessed- not now. No- he was fantasizing about something far less attainable, far less concrete.
Viktor imagined that, instead of the light-haired, young socialite’s hand tracing Jayce’s jawline, that it was his.
He turned away. It was best not to indulge these fantasies.
It was around midnight when the party ended, and they walked home together.
The party had been hosted on Acadamy grounds, so it was not as long of a walk as it could have been, though it was still tedious. The both of them- Viktor and Jayce- still resided in Acadamy lodging, in separate apartments close to their lab. But their lab and their lodgings were both far from the part of campus the party had been held, and Viktor was already so tired from the event.
Jayce was more than a little tipsy from the night’s festivities, but not so drunk he couldn’t walk home. They walked together in silence, and Viktor savored the quietness, the darkness, the cleanness of the night. There was a chill in the air typical of the season- it would be autumn sooner rather than later, and into autumn winter, and all the awful things that came with it- but not so much he found himself wanting for his coat. It was very, very quiet, too- he could hear nothing but their footsteps, and their breathing, and the infinite, empty quiet of the night.
They walked slowly- mostly for Viktor’s sake- and silently, for a while, til they had split off from the remainder of the other guests. At that point, when they were truly alone, Jayce broke the silence.
“Did you like the party?” He asked, in that sweet, gentle tone of his.
“I- ehh, I liked it well enough.” Viktor shrugged with one shoulder. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
Jayce looked towards Viktor, then back at the empty hallway before them. “I did. Hey, Viktor, d’ya think-”
At the moment Jayce spoke his name- the two soft syllables of his name, always articulated with such care, such feeling- Viktor turned to face his partner, and in looking at Jayce’s pretty, handsome face framed in the moonlight, he miss-stepped, and all in one motion he was tripping and falling onto the cool tile floor of the hallway-
Until he felt Jayce’s warm, steady body catching his. Jayce righted him, and made sure he was steady again on his feet and crutch, but did not yet let him go. He had one hand on Viktor’s arm- the one that held his crutch, and hovered the other by his other shoulder. They hovered close to one another, in complete and intolerable silence, the only sound the arrythmic, out-of-sync pattern of their breathing.
All was still, and silent, and they were terribly still and terribly close for a moment- merely a few second, but it felt as if it lasted an eternity, until Viktor erupted into a characteristic fit of coughs.
“Viktor- Viktor, are you alright?” Jayce sheparded him as he helplessly cleared his lungs. He hovered his arms around Viktor’s body, trying to support him without being overbearing. Jayce was taller than Viktor was, and Viktor found himself leaning into him more than he would’ve had he not been in such a vulnerable state.
“I’m alright.” Viktor stammered once words had come back to him. He righted his crutch, steadied himself, and took a step away. “Let’s get back home.”
“Are you sure?” Jayce took a step to follow him, still hovering over him. “If you need me to carry you, I will.”
Always so quick with his actions, Jayce. The mere idea of it set blood to Viktor’s cheeks, and he turned away quickly to hide his blush, thankful for the cover of the night.
“I told you, I am fine. I would not lie about that sort of thing.” Viktor said, despite the fact that he definitely would, and was at the moment, lying about that sort of thing.
Jayce moved around Viktor so he ended up facing him again. When Viktor turned away again to look at the wall, he was met only by a sorry, pleading, “Viktor.”
He really could not resist him, could he? Viktor turned back to Jayce.
“Viktor, please,” Jayce’s pretty, angular face was contorted with worry. “Be honest with me. We’ve known each other for years now. I can tell when you’re lying, you know. You can tell me how you feel.”
Tell him how he felt? “I told you. I’m doing fine. I would like to go to bed, though.”
Jayce took Viktor’s free hand in his own, gently rubbing his fingers over his bony knuckles, and suddenly Viktor knew what this was. What Jayce was asking of him. The question that had always existed between the two of them. The answer always left unspoken.
This was not supposed to be how it happened. Truly- this was not supposed to happen at all. Jayce, as charming and brilliant and wonderful as he was- did not have feelings of this nature for Viktor, it had to be the alcohol talking- and even if he did, it was not their place to act upon them. There were reputations to be upheld, commitments to be made. Plans for the future he could not be a part of. He could not do that to Jayce. He could not put the weight of his own soul upon the shoulders of such a good man.
Jayce carressed his hand gently, always so gently, “Viktor, please- if I’m reading into things, just tell me, but... I know I’m not imagining this. I know how I feel about you...”
He had not asked a question, but an answer was necessary. Jayce was expecting something of Viktor. Some kind of acknowledgment. Some answer. But what could he say that would be truthful?
He slipped his hand out of the grasp of his partner and turned away. “You forget yourself, Jayce Talis. We... should both get some sleep.”
“Viktor-” Jayce tried once more, but Viktor sidestepped him and continued, ever-slowly, down the hall.
“I am going to bed.”
Jayce followed, though silently. The night was still and silent, with a horribily solemnity- like it, too, did not want to think of what had transpired within it.