Chapter Text
There was nothing Viktor was prouder of than his partnership with Jayce, and nearly two decades of innovation and intimacy were coming to a close. It was their twenty-year anniversary, June 29th.
That day, all those years ago, was the culmination of a month of magic.
Before Viktor had met Jayce, he’d considered himself a fairly ‘quiet’ queer. Not to say he was reserved about his sexuality, but rather that he preferred to keep to himself. Thus, he wasn’t one to frequent clubs or events or parades, per June tradition. Leaving that all behind in his early twenties where it belonged. Rather, in June 20XX, at twenty-eight years old, resigned to his work as a TA at the university as he pursued his PhD, Viktor had been planning to celebrate Pride by reading an abundance of smut and watching some classic queer films.
He considered himself happy, if a bit bored.
Enter, Sky.
✧ June 1st, 20XX ✧
“Bitch, get dressed, we’re going out tonight.” Sky pushed her way into Viktor’s apartment, made straight for his closet, and pulled out clothing with little ceremony; shirts and pants and skirts flying over her head onto the bed. “Oh, this is cute!” FLING!
Viktor watched from his bedroom doorway, frazzled to say the least. “I never agreed to an outing.”
“An outing? Do you hear yourself? This is why I’m dragging you far away from your little cozy burrow. It’s officially Pride. We’re going to get drunk, dance, and have a fun night.” She held up a sheer black button down that Viktor had snagged at a clothing swap, but had never worn. He’d hadn’t an occasion to yet. “This is perfect. Wear it with those high-waisted pants that hug your ass.”
“Why must I spend Pride inebriated with a crowd of strangers?” said Viktor. “If you want to get drunk, let’s go to the liquor store, buy a couple bottles, and get wasted here. It’s cheaper, we don’t have to figure out how to get home after, and there’s a clean toilet nearby we can vomit into without questioning who’s shit we’re breathing in.”
“Jeeze, you make going out seem like a punishment.”
“Depending on how discontented my joints feel that day, it can be.”
Sky approached, bent at the hip with her hands on her waist like a disappointed parent, and spoke directly to Viktor’s right leg. “You’re not allowed to be a little bitch today. We need to work together to get Viktor to loosen up, okay? Truce?” She offered her hand as if she expected his knee to reciprocate, pinched his pajama pants, then hiked it up and down in a mock handshake. “Great, it’s an accord.”
Viktor stared at her with flat lids. “Only I’m allowed to have conversations with my knee.”
“You need more people to talk to than me and your knee, thus why we’re going out. The strangers you dance with tonight could become friends! Come on, I found the perfect bar. It’s not too clubby, mostly locals, music isn’t too loud, it had a great vibe.” She returned to his closet to continue her invasion. “Oh, and the bar tender is really hoooooot. Huge man! I’m taking massive. He could probably do arm curls with you.”
That peaked Viktor’s interest. “Oh?”
Sky smiled over her shoulder looking all too pleased with herself. “Ha! Got ya!”
Viktor shrugged. “If he’s not as hot as you say, I’m leaving right away.”
“Deal.” She held up a pair of black boots. “You’re wearing these.”
Sighing, Viktor gestured to the pile of rejected clothing on his bed and said, “Fine, just clean up this mess while I fix my hair.”
“Put on some makeup too!” she called as Viktor strode to the bathroom.
After splashing cold water on his face to calm his tired under eyes, Viktor looked at himself in the mirror. The man in the reflection could never have known how his life was about to drastically shift. To him, he was just bracing for another night of overstimulation.
Sky meant well, and was great at pushing him when he needed it. Viktor had simply been looking forward to crashing into bed to fuck himself silly on his dildo. Now, that extremely important date with himself would have to wait a few days because he’d be so wrung out and sore after investing energy to get through tonight that he wouldn’t have the mental energy to masturbate.
Viktor wet his hair in the sink, then blow dried it in a way that got his ends to calm down, though he knew it wouldn’t last. The moment he got a little sweaty they’d all fling up and make him look like a mad scientist. Still, he felt better walking into a new space when looking put together. He then dug out some old eyeliner and smudged it around his lashes. It looked…fine, he guessed. He didn’t really care too much so he let it be, and dabbed some gloss onto his lips to moisturize and tint them. Maybe if they looked dewy enough, the hypothetically hot bartender would consider kissing him. Then the night would be worth it.
By the time he emerged, Sky had his bedroom back in order and had arranged an outfit on the bed, including a few necklaces and rings. He’d forgotten he’d even owned those. Where had she dug them up from?
“I’ll let you change.” She smiled wide, before turning her attention to her phone to order a ride share. “You got 15 minutes.”
Fifteen was enough time, but he’d have to hasten a little.
After he’d managed to get everything on properly, he looked far sluttier than he ever typically permitted himself. Though…it felt good. The high waisted pants cinched the volume of his sheer button down. It was a little vampy, in a mellow way. So, he switched out his plastic cane for his nicer black stained wood cane that had a silver handle.
“OOOOOOOOOO, yes! You look SO hot, I’m going to die.” Sky’s grin was wicked. “You’re so going to get smooched tonight.”
“I thought the goal was drunk dancing with new friends?” he said as if he hadn’t been secretly hoping for a kiss twenty minutes ago.
“It can be both.” Sky opened the front door. “In a perfect world, we’ll both get smooched.”
The ride to the bar was nice. They passed through the village in Zaun and every store front was lit with colorful lights. Pride flags were hung and painted everywhere. There was laughter as people strode down the street in their fabulous outfits like a candid runway. Despite himself, Viktor smiled as he took it all in. He hadn’t been in the village since undergrad. It was nice to see how the area had blossomed.
They pulled up to a well-loved building. There was a wooden sign overtop in which was carved The Last Drop. The interior glowed with warm lighting and playful music poured through the open front windows. Viktor realized he’d walked past this place a bunch of times in the past, but had never bothered to check it out.
It was near to ten pm when they walked in, so things appeared to be picking up. The crowd wasn’t overwhelming. Half of them crowding the bar or booths, the other half up dancing or playing pool.
Viktor instantly locked onto the pool tables and he tugged on Sky’s sleeve to point at them with a questioning look.
“You’re going to beat my ass,” she said, only half annoyed.
“I’ll go easy on you,” Viktor promised.
“Fine. One game, then you owe me a dance.”
“I still need to see this bartender.” Viktor lifted onto his toes, trying to see over the sea of heads unsuccessfully. All he could catch was a bit of brown hair.
Sky pushed through the crowd towards the bar, making a small trail for Viktor to safely follow behind, then waved down the bartender. Who was, indeed, very hot. Sky did not lie. He was easily four times Viktor’s size, and looked nearly twice his age. Complete dilf. The question was, if he was into flings with guys half his age?
“Vander! Happy Pride!” Sky shouted over the music when the bartender approached.
“Happy Pride. Good to see you again, Sky. Glad you came. And who’s this?” Vander looked Viktor over with a kind smile.
“Viktor,” he introduced himself, giving his best smile. “Happy Pride.”
“What can I get ya?”
Viktor leaned forward onto the bar, perhaps flaunting a little—who’s to say? “What do you recommend?”
“How drunk you looking to get?”
“I promised Sky a dance.”
“Got ya.” Vander winked. “I can mix something up. You like sweet or sour?
“Sweet, please.”
“Sweet as you?”
Viktor preened, excitement curling his toes, but he let a little of that bite of his show, speaking slowly, deliberately, “I’m not as sweet as you think.”
With a huff, Vander shook his head, then made a point of lifting his left hand and wiggling his fingers. A wedding band glinted under the bar lights. “If I weren’t married, kid, you’d be just my type.”
Though a bit disappointed, Viktor considered it a win regardless. A little innocent flirting was still fun. “Know of any others in tonight who share your taste?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not my place to meddle, but let me get you that sweet drink. On the house. You too, Sky—same as last time?”
“Yes, please!” she chirped with a wide grin.
“Any allergies?” Vander asked Viktor.
“None,” said Viktor.
“Great. Hold tight.” Vander knocked on the bar then departed, grabbing bottles and syrups as he went, before parking himself before his mixing equipment and getting to work.
“Ah, well, too bad!” Sky didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.
Viktor side eyed her. “You knew he was married.”
“My side of the deal was kept—the man was hot. I said nothing of his availability status.” She bumped Viktor’s shoulder with her own. “Made for a pretty lure for a pretty fish, huh?”
The way he saw it, Viktor had two options: he could drink his free drink then immediately call another ride share home, having spent the transportation money for practically nothing, or he could play some pool, dance with his friend, and have a great June 1st regardless. They were at a queer bar and the night was still young, hypothetically speaking, anything was possible. Smooches included.
Viktor enjoyed the spectacle of Vander mixing, flexing those tree trunk arms and tossing the shaker around as if daring gravity to do something about it. After the drinks were poured and garnished, he returned and deposited them on the bar.
“One paloma.” Vander slid the glass to Sky, then nudged the other towards Viktor. “And one French martini. Vodka, raspberry chambord, and pineapple juice. Sweet, but not too sweet.”
Viktor laughed. The stem of the glass cool between his fingers. “Thank you.”
Vander nodded. “Let me know if you like it. I can remake it.”
Viktor took a sip, and a bright and colorful flavor washed over his tongue, with just the lightest bite of alcohol beneath. “It’s perfect.”
“Alright.” Vander looked relieved. There was an earnestness in his presentation that spoke to how much he actually cared about getting the drinks right, whether for the art or for satisfying his customer, or both, it was admirable. “Let me know if you two need anything else.”
With that, he turned his attention to the next waiting customer.
Sky lifted her glass. “To being hot enough to get free drinks!”
Laughing, Viktor clinked his glass to hers. “To being hot, period.”
“You brilliant, brilliant man.”
They each took a deep sip, and Viktor felt a giddiness set in. The drinks were fantastic, the crowd was the perfect level of dense without being suffocating, and Viktor’s leg had been having a fairly decent day. All things considered, Viktor was married to a fun night out.
“Come. It’s time I kick your ass at pool.” He abandoned the bar, heading for the only open table.
“You said you’d go easy on me!” Sky protested, scurrying after him.
“Even going easy on you, I will still kick your ass.” Viktor selected a cue stick with a good weight and balance. “You can break.”
He racked the balls up as she chose her cue, then set up a stool nearby where they could watch their drinks.
Once Sky was ready, she lined up her shot and let it fly. The balls CRACKED, rending the air and drawing eyes. Most went back to their chatter, but a few kept flicking curious glances as they played, because Viktor was good. This was his element. Angles, force, precision. A sport almost entirely of the mind. Plus, he looked fantastic bent over the edge of the table. In undergrad, he’d earned himself many fun nights from his little billiards displays, though he hadn’t had excuse enough to play anymore with the intensive demands of his PhD.
Sky was right, he needed this.
Viktor sank over half his balls before Sky sank two, so he slowed down, playing elaborate shots that were flashy, but harder to sink, using it as a training opportunity for himself. He seated himself on the edge of the table and lined his cue up behind his back, took a slow breath, then—
CLACK CLACK CLACK thunk.
“Viktor!” Sky crossed her arms. “How is this going easy?”
“I honestly didn’t know that would sink,” he laughed, hopping off the table, using the edge as support. His cane was resting by the drink stool. “It was a lucky shot.”
“Sure as hell didn’t look that way. Looked like you were showing off. What’s the point of me playing if you’re going to win so quickly?”
“I’m genuinely sorry.” Viktor grabbed his delicious free drink, now mostly empty, and frowned at it. “We can stop.”
“Could I have a go next round?” said a lovely, low voice.
They both turned, and openly stared at the man who’d approached: tall, incredibly fit, warm smile with an adorable tooth gap, golden skin glowing in the low light. It was baffling, how gorgeous he was, like he was ripped out of some ancient folk tale.
Sky glanced at Viktor, eyes flitting over his face, scanning, then she broke out into wide grin before turning back to the beautiful stranger. “Actually,” she said, racking her cue stick and snatching up her drink. “I was just leaving to dance since there was no chance for me anyhow. He’s all yours.”
The stranger flashed a bright smile. “Great.”
As the stranger was busy selecting his cue, Viktor shot a face at Sky, but she just giggled and sashayed away to the dance floor.
“You’re pretty good,” said the stranger as he approached.
Viktor scoffed, leaning against the edge of the pool table. “I’m excellent.” Even out of practice as he was.
The stranger shrugged. “I think I can take you.”
“Mm.” Thrill shot up Viktor’s spine. “Loser buys next round. I’ll take a French martini.”
“Alright, Mr. Martini.” The man smirked. “I’ll take a mojito.”
“You’re on, Mr. Mojito.” Viktor racked up the balls. “You want to break, or shall I?”
Mr. Mojito bowed with an exaggerated sweep of the hand. “Be my guest.”
Perfect.
Viktor placed the cue ball to the left and lined up his shot towards the second ball in the triangle, square on. He bent over, not putting too much care into the arch of his back because, at the moment, he was going for an inconsistent shot. No one, not even professionals, could succeed at it every single time, so it was a risk. But if it worked, he’d get another free drink right away. He breathed, breathed again, then flicked his arm.
CRACK. The balls flew, and the eight shot right into the side pocket.
Smirking like a cat, Viktor leaned on his cue stick. “Don’t forget to make it French.”
“Damn.” Mr. Mojito shook his head, laughing, “Fine, but no dirty tricks next round.”
“I like to play dirty.”
Mr. Mojito’s eyes burned as Viktor’s words sank in, and Viktor just cocked his head, innocent as anything. There was that familiar tangibility in the air that always made Viktor’s blood sing when something new and exciting presented itself.
He was definitely getting a smooch tonight.
“One French martini, coming up.” Mr. Mojito handed off his stick before heading for the bar.
Viktor cued up the balls again, then hopped up on the table as he waited, both their sticks leaning against his lap. He watched the beautiful man chat with Vander—who shot Viktor another wink when they caught eyes—and admired his outfit since he had a little time to ogle.
Mr. Mojito wore denim shorts that showed off his glorious thighs. He had a well-loved pair of brown boots on, and a sleeveless white shirt that sat just loosely enough to show off his pectorals when he moved. His hair was swept back and controlled, but it still looked soft. Probably styled with cream and heat, not gel. And he wore a brown cuff with a blue gem. Casual but effortless.
He returned with their drinks and traded Viktor his for the cue stick. “Vander said, ‘great shot.’”
Viktor laughed, appreciating the subtext. “Thank you for the drink.”
“You earned it.” Mr. Mojito raised his glass, leaning against the pool table just under a respectable distance from Viktor.
Viktor wished he was less respectful.
“True.” Viktor clinked with him, then they both sipped. “What’s your real name, Mr. Mojito?”
“Jayce. And yours?”
“It’s Viktor.” He slipped off the table, took another sip, then said, “Ready to lose again, Jayce?”
“Feel free to try to put me in my place. I won’t make it easy.” Jayce walked around the table as if he hadn’t just scrambled Viktor’s brains.
After setting his drink on the designated stool, Jayce lined up his opening shot. Just as Viktor had suspected and hoped, the shorts rode up, showing off the cute creases under Jayce’s ass, and fuck his ass was gorgeous. Full, round, a sprinkle of hair, perfect for biting.
A crack brought Viktor back to his senses.
Balls scattered across the table, and one sank—not the eight—so Jayce lined up his next shot. His face was lovely when focused, thick brows leaning towards each other like yearning lovers, bottom lip bitten just off to the side, eyes flickering with thoughts Viktor wished he could hear. Jayce flicked his arm, and the ball sank, so he lined up again. That shot sank too, then the next, but he missed his attempt at getting the four into the corner pocket.
It was a solid start, and Jayce clearly knew what he was doing, so Viktor decided it was best to not get fancy and play honestly, despite his love for a little dirt and flare. He set down his glass and lined up the easiest shot, the eleven into the side pocket. With a gentle tap with his cue stick, it dropped right in, so he went for his next shot, the fifteen, which sank too. On the third, the warmth of Jayce’s eyes tingled along his body as he pressed his stomach to the edge of the table, but he fought not to focus on it. Winning another free drink from a beautiful and likely bratty man was at stake!
He made a cut shot, but it skewed too far off center and the thirteen bounced around the corner pocket, before rolling back into the center of the table.
Jayce hummed. “You could have made that.”
Sighing, Viktor leaned on his cue stick. “An unfortunate error.”
“What happened? Something on your mind?”
“More like on my ass. Your gaze was hardly subtle.”
Jayce laughed, and it was bubbling and bright. “And what, your ogling was?”
“Not at all.” Viktor snickered. “Arguably worse, what with those shorts of yours.”
Glancing back at his own ass with a little twist at the waist, Jayce said, “They’re my secret weapon.”
“At winning pool?”
“At meeting cute guys, but sure, at winning pool too.”
“Ah, so you play dirty as well.”
“Never said I didn’t.”
“I love a challenge.” Viktor strode to the drink stool and leaned against it as he sipped. He made a pointed look at Jayce’s ass then said, “It’s your go.”
And go Jayce did, bending in such a way that invited admiration. He even did a little wiggle, making Viktor laugh into his drink. As wonderful as the show was, Jayce shot incredibly well, sinking most of his balls, save for the five. It was all that stood between him and the eight. So Viktor had to shoot perfectly five times or else he’d miss his chance at the eight and the win.
They traded spots, and Viktor forced himself to block everything out. He took a few moments to breathe and focus on himself. Statistically speaking, he could still win this. All he had to do was stay calm—even though Jayce was crossing his arms, making them seem larger somehow.
A brief read of the table made Viktor decide on the fourteen. If shot correctly, he could simultaneously sink it and the ten. It was a risky way to begin, but the odds were solid enough. He took his time, lining up the shot, playing it in his head several times, and making certain his form was perfect. After one deep breath, he went for it.
Clack, CLACK! They both sank.
A long whistle from Jayce nearly stole Viktor’s concentration, but he refused to look at how the man’s lips were wrapped around the straw in his mojito. Nope. Wasn’t looking.
Viktor had three balls left until the eight. Thankfully, the aftermath of his last shot left one of his balls right by a corner pocket, so he sank it and focused on the last two. The alcohol was warming his belly just the right amount to keep him from overthinking. It was the optimal window of inebriation; tipsy, but not drunk. Viktor decided his next shot should be the more difficult of the two left; best to get it out of the way and so all that stood between him and the eight was an easy shot. It was a bit merciless, since he’d have to use the eight to ricochet off, but he was confident. Just focus.
Clack, CLACK! For a heart stopping moment, the twelve bounced between the edges of the pocket, but it sank.
All that was left was the thirteen, the same one he fumbled before.
“You got this,” said Jayce, slurping up the dregs of his glass.
“Cheering on the opposition?” said Viktor, lifting an eyebrow.
“In the end, we both get another drink, right? So, does it really matter who wins?”
“Yes. It’s a matter of honor. I did not get this dressed up to pay for alcohol.”
“Fair enough,” Jayce chuckled, and used the chewed up straw in his mouth to point at the table. “Make the shot, Martini.”
Viktor stared down the thirteen as if it had insulted his non-existent family bloodline, then lined up his cue stick. He gave it a firm thrust, sending the ball flying straight into the far corner pocket with a satisfying twunk, leaving the eight sitting idly by a side pocket. After calling it aloud, it was an easy win. One firm stroke and the eight ball it sank.
Viktor stood with a victorious smile. “Make it a double this time.”
“Yeesh, ruthless.” Jayce shook his head, eyes twinkling. “You slaughtered me.”
“You enjoyed it.”
“Am I that easy to read?”
“I think you’re that easy, yes.”
A lovely flush crept around Jayce’s ears. “Alright, one double, coming up.”
He stole both their empty glasses and returned to the bar. Viktor cleaned up the pool table in the meantime and passed it off to a waiting group. He met Jayce in the middle, having made eye contact in the same moment and following one another like reflections until they reunited.
“One double French martini for the victor.” Jayce snorted as he handed over the glass. “Oh. man, that was so not pun-intended, but I wish it had been because that would have been cooler.”
Viktor smiled, taking his glass. “No, I think the snort was better than a well-timed pun. Certainly more endearing.”
“Yeah?” They were only a few inches different in height, but still, somehow, Jayce managed to look at Viktor through his lashes—long like little palm leaves over golden suns. “Okay phew, trying really hard not to screw this up.”
“Eager.” Viktor took a sip, letting Jayce sit with the accusation, which made him squirm. Beautiful.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Jayce said, “Can you blame me? You’re easily the hottest guy here.”
Viktor shrugged. “You’re not incorrect.” He knew he was pretty, but it was nice to be told once in a while.
Jayce laughed again, and it was infectious. Viktor wanted to be able to hear it without the interruption of loud music or chatter, to have it captured in the quiet of four intimate walls, preferably a bedroom, but a living room or kitchen would also do.
“Would you, uh—” Jayce glanced at his cane. “Is it rude or polite to ask you to dance?”
“I think it depends on the intention,” said Viktor, because teasing this pretty boy was too fun.
“Well, my intention is that I’m looking for a socially acceptable excuse to get a little closer to you, and I like dancing, so it would be a win/win for me. But if you’re in pain, we can sit and talk, and I can sneakily graze your thigh under a table. Whichever you prefer.”
Viktor smirked. “It’s unfair. You know exactly how charming you are being, but you’re doing it all with such pretty puppy eyes that I’m defenseless against it.”
“You like my puppy eyes?”
“Very much.” Viktor took another sip. It was certainly stronger than the last two. Best for him to nurse it so it didn’t hit too hard and too fast. “And I would like to dance. However, I do owe a dance to the friend I came with. So, let me satisfy that first, and then you can meet me on the dance floor in a bit.”
“It’s a date.” Jayce leaned in a little closer, near Viktor’s ear. “Until then, I’ll be admiring you, so feel free to put on a little show for me on the dance floor.”
Warmth and excitement writhed in Viktor’s belly. “Ah, so you like to be teased.”
Jayce’s breath shuttered. “Damn, you’re quick with comebacks.”
“Is it a comeback if it’s a simple observation?”
“What, are you a scientist?”
“Yes.”
Jayce’s eyebrows flew up. “Fuck…that’s hot.”
“I know.” Viktor smirked and walked off towards the dance floor.
He found Sky bouncing slightly off to the side, apparently having made fast friends with a couple. A breathtaking woman in a white dress with long leg slits and gold makeup, and a what appeared to be her girlfriend, who was dressed more conservatively, and had her hair up in two buns at her nape.
“Viktor!” Sky shouted over the music, waving him over. “You abandoned Mr. Hottie for me?”
Viktor reciprocated the big hug she gave him then leaned on his cane to warm up to the music’s rhythm, rolling and swaying. “He’s on my dance card, but you’re first.”
He took a sip of his drink, enough so it wouldn’t spill as he wiggled and bopped, then and let himself loose. The alcohol was numbing the worst of his aches, so he enjoyed the temporary freedom—even if he would pay for it later—and gave his best performance. He didn’t look for Jayce in the bar, since he wanted to stay present with Sky. She was the reason he was here after all, the reason Mr. Hottie and him had met, the reason he got so many free drinks tonight. The least he could do was have a genuinely good time with her. She was also great fun to dance with, laughing and hanging on Viktor, bouncing and swaying with him. When the music changed to something with more of a latin beat she squealed and pranced around him in a circle, moving her hips like a professional. Her new friends cheered her on and all four of them fell together in a puddle of limbs and laughter. Viktor was sweating his ass off, and he was certain half his makeup had smudged off, but he didn’t care. There was a twinkle in this moment that he didn’t want to miss, as if everything slowed down and he was processing the forming of a core memory in real time. Sky looked beyond perfect, so full in her joy and comfortable in her environment. It made Viktor mist up, and he certainly smudged more of his makeup when he stealthily wiped away tears before they could fall. Their new friends, who Viktor still hadn’t managed to get the names of, were quick to include him, twirling him and holding hands as they chacha’d back and forth. The music was fantastic, a lovely blend of classics and newer artists, both popular and obscure.
Then, Viktor felt large hands ghost over his arms. He looked over his shoulder.
Jayce was there, hovering, waiting for an official invitation before touching. Viktor was the one to close the gap, falling back until they were pressed together. Jayce felt amazing against him: firm, secure, and weighty, as if Viktor could thrash against him—with emotion or ecstasy—and Jayce would take it, help him ride through it. Viktor rested his head on Jayce’s shoulder and allowed Jayce to lead. Those big hands never settled in place, sweeping over Viktor’s arms, waist, hips, then back, explorative and so warm. It was all so warm, Viktor thought he might faint, but he didn’t want this to end. It was the perfect night.
However, as the dances passed and his drink emptied, the night grew into morning. If Viktor was going to get through the next day without enduring utter agony, he had to go home.
As Sky was exchanging information with their new friends—Mel and Elora—Viktor cornered Jayce outside. The fresh air was invigorating and sobered him enough for him to get through this last bit with some grace.
“Do you have to go?” Jayce shot Viktor those puppy eyes and for a moment, Viktor thought he might actually die. They were too cute.
“Trust me, I don’t want to, but this is my reality. I must be responsible.” Viktor pressed himself closer, so that Jayce leaned against the wall. “However, you have my number, so the sooner you contact me, the sooner we can continue this.”
They had traded numbers on their walk out of the bar.
“I will,” Jayce promised, resting his hands on Viktor’s waist, thumbs sweeping gently. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Viktor breathed, inching closer, slowly. “May I kiss you?”
“Please.” Jayce inched closer too, their lips whispering together, breath shuttering.
Viktor pulled back. “Unless…perhaps I should make you wait for it. You do like to be teased after all.”
Jayce whined, gripping Viktor so tight he thought he might bruise. That strength was heady, and Viktor felt high off the idea of weakening such a big man.
“Please, kiss me.” Jayce nosed at Viktor’s jaw. “Please, Viktor.”
“You’re lovely when you beg.”
Viktor lifted Jayce’s face, wanting to admire the fluster that would not doubt be all over it. And sure enough, the parting of Jayce’s lips, the color in his cheeks, the pinch of his brow, was all so delicious, Viktor couldn’t hold back any longer.
He pressed his lips against Jayce’s, and the taste of mint and alcohol sweetened the kiss. It was slow, but giddy. Licks and bites all between smiles and little breaths. Jayce wrapped his arms fully around Viktor, holding him close, and squeezed gently. Viktor wanted him to squeeze harder, so he licked into Jayce’s mouth, scratched up Jayce’s scalp, sank so deeply into him that Jayce had to hold tight or else they’d topple. And though Jayce was trembling against Viktor, like at any moment his knees might give out, he kept them upright.
Viktor needed to take this man apart, watch him shatter, and then hear him thank him for it before begging for more.
“Eh-hem.”
Viktor sighed, and parted his lips from Jayce’s. “Yes, Sky?”
“Our ride share is here, dummy.”
Jayce squeezed Viktor again, as if on instinct, as if it pained him to let go.
Viktor pressed up onto his toes so he could whisper in Jayce’s ear. “Dream of me tonight. Then tell me tomorrow if your dreams were chaste or filthy, yes?”
“Fuck.” Jayce nodded. “Yeah, I will.”
“Good boy.” Viktor kissed him once more, quickly, before untangling himself. “Goodnight, Jayce.”
“Night, Viktor…” Jayce drifted towards the door, walking backwards as he watched Viktor head to the car. “Get home safely, please.”
“I’ll text you, so you do not have to worry,” he said as he slid into the backseat after Sky.
“Great.” Then Jayce waved at Sky. “Great to meet you. Thanks for dragging this guy out.”
“You’re absolutely welcome, and you can buy me lunch as a thank you one of these days.” Sky waved cheerfully from inside the car.
Laughing, Jayce said, “You got it.”
With that, Viktor shut the door and watched Jayce shrink into the distance as the car sped down the road. Once he was no longer visible, Viktor rested his head on Sky’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I appreciate you, you know?”
“I know.” She rested her head on his. “So, how was the smooooooch? It looked good from where I was standing.”
Viktor chuckled, licking his lips as if he could still sap some of Jayce’s taste from them. “It was fantastic, but I’m sorry you didn’t get a smooch tonight.”
“It’s alright. New friends are better than a smooch. I have all month to kiss some hot person or three in honor of our mother and savior Marsha P. Johnson.”
“She would be proud, I’m sure.”
When the car pulled up to his apartment, Viktor shot Jayce a quick text before shoving his phone into his pocket.
The inside of his place was so quiet in contrast to The Last Drop. Typically, Viktor savored that quiet, but now it made him a little sad. He missed the vibrance of a big body against his, the rumble of a warm voice in his ear…
zzz,zzz,zzz
Viktor pulled his phone back out and grinned when he saw ‘Puppy Eyes’ light up his screen.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞!
𝐏𝐄: 𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐀 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈’𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.
Viktor bit his lip and leaned against the kitchen counter, surveilling Sky as she poured herself a cup of water then all but launched herself on the sofa to crash for the night. Once she settled, he typed out a quick response, deciding not to overthink it.
𝐕: 𝐈 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.
𝐕: 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝.
He walked to his bathroom, though in deep need of his mattress. With no energy for as shower, he opted to change into an already used sleep shirt from his hamper and wash his face.
zzz,zzz,zzz
𝐏𝐄: 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫?
Viktor dragged a cotton swab drenched in micellar water over his eyeliner and tapped out a response.
𝐕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬! <3
Viktor huffed, and brushed his teeth.
𝐕: 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐲.
𝐕: 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫.
𝐕: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.
𝐏𝐄: 🥰
Viktor spat out his toothpaste then shuffled to bed, already feeling the latent aches due to his audacity to dance and party unplanned. As he settled under his comforter, he pulled it tightly around himself. It was a poor substitute for the embrace of Jayce’s arms, but it helped to fall back into the memory of that delicious kiss. Viktor couldn’t wait till morning. He was giddy like a schoolboy, but he didn’t judge himself for it. It was nice, and it had been a while since he’d felt similarly.
After much tossing and turning, he fell asleep, about forty minutes later.
zzz,zzz,zzz
𝐏𝐄: 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞!
𝐏𝐄: 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐳𝐲.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡. 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩.
𝐏𝐄: …𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨.
𝐏𝐄: 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫...
𝐏𝐄: 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞.