Chapter Text
The campus bookstore is chaos.
Students crowd between shelves stacked too high with overpriced textbooks and university sweatshirts, voices blending into a constant hum beneath the crackle of announcements overhead.
Viktor shifts his weight against his cane, expression pinched as he studies the list on his phone. Most of the required texts are already accounted for, and one of the recommended readings had been suggested by his former advisor months ago. The only title he still needs is, of course, the one that has apparently sold out.
He sighs, leaning more heavily on the cane, his hip aching with a dull, familiar rhythm. The humid August air, thick with the scent of paper, floor wax, and academic anxiety, is suffocating.
He hates this. The crowds, the aimless milling, the noise. Five years into his doctorate, and he still misses the quiet solitude of his old undergraduate library back in Zaun. There, he spent countless hours tucked away between towering shelves and forgotten archives, left alone with his research and his thoughts.
He exhales sharply through his nose, already mentally calculating whether he can get by with a library copy until the next shipment arrives, assuming the library has one available. He is so lost in thought that he only registers the sudden shadow before a broad shoulder knocks into him.
"Oh, shit, sorry!" a warm, slightly breathless voice says.
Before he can fall, a hand shoots out to grab him. The grip is strong, steadying him before he can lose his balance completely. His gaze drifts to the black ink spread across the back of the man's hand, following the intricate lines over a tattooed forearm before they disappear beneath the rolled sleeve of a well-worn henley.
He looks up.
And up.
Every coherent thought vanishes.
The man is ridiculously tall and unfairly attractive. Dark, slightly unruly waves fall into striking eyes. A beard frames his mouth and jaw, lending him a rugged appearance that only adds to his appeal. Concern flickers openly across his features. There is something disarmingly earnest about him, something quietly compelling in the hazel gaze fixed on Viktor that makes looking away difficult.
"No harm," Viktor says, his own voice raspier than intended. He clears his throat, straightening. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
He winces internally as the words leave his mouth. He had been standing still.
The man smiles, a slow, easy thing that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
"No, it was definitely my fault. I was on a mission." He gestures with the stack of books in his other hand. "Trying to get organized before the semester starts. Clearly it’s going well."
He hasn’t let go of Viktor's arm. His hand nearly spans Viktor's bicep, broad fingers still curled there as though he'd forgotten he was holding on.
Viktor allows himself a small, wry smile in return. "I suspect that's true of everyone this week."
“I keep telling myself I’ll be ready before the semester starts.” He shifts the stack of books under one arm with a rueful huff. The movement finally pulls his attention back to himself, and his hand slips from Viktor’s arm. “One of these years it’ll actually happen.” He glances from Viktor's face down to his phone, still displaying the course list. “Are you new?”
"Is it that obvious?”
The man shakes his head, “Not really, I just don't think I'd forget seeing someone like you."
Viktor blinks, caught off guard. The man's expression falters, realization dawning on him a heartbeat later.
"I mean—" He stops. "That came out wrong."
"Did it?"
"I wasn't—I wasn't trying to flirt with you." He winces. "Not that you aren't worth flirting with. You are. Attractive, I mean… oh, fuck." He drags a hand down his face.
A self-deprecating laugh escapes him as color blooms across his cheeks. Somehow, the obvious embarrassment only makes him more charming.
"I swear, I'm not usually this awkward."
Viktor arches a brow.
"I know," he says with a groan. "This is just an exceptionally bad first impression. Please, don't judge me by the last thirty seconds."
"I'll try not to."
The relief that washes over the man's face is almost comical.
It occurs to Viktor, perhaps a little belatedly, that this man might actually be flirting with him. It's been a while since he'd found himself wanting to flirt back. His last relationship had ended over two years ago now, a slow, painful thing that had made it easy to throw himself into his studies. The occasional one-night stand had come and gone since then, but he'd never had much interest in anything beyond that.
But now, standing in the middle of a crowded bookstore with this beautiful, flustered man, he finds himself wanting the conversation to continue.
"So, do you have a specialty?” the man asks.
Viktor gestures to the course list still displayed on his phone. "Biomedical Engineering. I'm trying to find the textbook for Advanced Applied Theory."
The man's face lights up, interest sparking in his eyes. "With Dr. Talis?"
Viktor can't help the flicker of excitement in his voice. "Yes, are you familiar with him?"
That earns a full-blown grin.
"You could say that. I’ve heard he’s brilliant, though a little..." He tilts his head, considering. "Egotistical, maybe."
"Oh?" Viktor arches a brow. "I've read his work over the summer. His research on advanced prosthetic integration is brilliant, but I think he places too much emphasis on technical performance and not enough on long-term usability."
The man stares at him for a second before laughing outright. It's a bright, wonderful sound that carries easily above the noise of the bookstore. A few students glance over at them, curious.
"You don't pull your punches, do you?" His laughter fades, though his expression stays warm. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear your theories."
"I doubt any academic survives on praise alone." Viktor shrugs, though the corner of his mouth twitches.
"No, but some of them certainly try," he says, grinning.
Viktor laughs, shaking his head. "A little skepticism is healthy."
His smile widens, as though pleased to have earned it. He clears his throat.
"So, are you from around here?"
"Ah, no. I just moved a few weeks ago." He shifts, easing the pressure on his hip. "I'm still trying to get my bearings."
"I know the area pretty well, if you need anything. You know, food recommendations, tours, the whole deal." He winks. "On the house."
"Is that so?" A smile plays on Viktor's lips. "A free tour of Piltover. How could I possibly refuse such an offer?"
"I try to be generous."
Viktor finds himself charmed. The man is attractive, intelligent, and apparently capable of holding a conversation without making Viktor want to fake his own death. The bar may be in hell, but he clears it comfortably. He could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon. In fact…
Someone behind them clears their throat pointedly.
Viktor startles, glancing over. An employee is trying to squeeze past them, arms laden with boxes, her expression annoyed.
"Right," the man says, flushing as he moves closer to make room for her to pass. The space between them shrinks, and Viktor catches the faint scent of cedar and smoke.
Another student squeezes past before he steps back again with a sheepish smile. "Looks like we're holding up traffic." He shifts the books in his arm. "I should probably let you go."
"Right," Viktor says, as if only now remembering where they are.
"It was really nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll see each other around."
"You as well."
He gives Viktor one last smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
Viktor watches him go for a moment before turning back to the empty space on the shelf. He lets out a soft huff of laughter, shaking his head at what just happened. Maybe Piltover wouldn't be so bad after all.
***
The rest of the afternoon disappears beneath a blur of errands. Textbooks, office supplies, a reluctant stop at the campus technology center for software licenses whose price borders on extortion. By the time he finally returns home, his messenger bag is heavier, his bank account lighter, and his hip aches with a vengeance.
He sinks into a secondhand couch that has seen better days, his cane clattering to the floor beside him. The apartment is quiet, still largely unpacked. Cardboard boxes sit stacked against the walls, while the small kitchen table has already become a catchall for the odds and ends that hadn't yet found a permanent home. The faint scent of lavender still lingers in the air from the cleaning it had desperately needed before he could move in.
He's going through his mental list of things that still need to be done before classes start on Monday when a black menace with four legs and a god complex jumps up onto his chest. Rio bumps his head against Viktor’s chin, purring like a sputtering engine.
Viktor smiles, scratching behind her ears.
"Hello, beast," he murmurs. "Miss me?"
Rio meows in response, kneading her paws into his shirt before circling twice and collapsing into a heap across his lap. Her warmth is a soothing weight against his thighs, a familiar comfort in the unfamiliar space.
He leans his head back against the couch cushions, closing his eyes. Today had been better than he expected. The move to a new city, a new university for the final year of his doctorate, had been an exercise in anxiety, a constant knot of tension in his stomach. He's anxious and excited about starting work with Dr. Talis, but leaving Zaun has been more difficult than he’d expected.
Sky and Dmitri, two of his closest friends back home, had thrown him a going-away party that had ended with all three of them drunk on cheap wine. Despite the headaches the next morning, they'd still helped him move the last of his things into his new apartment and get settled.
He'd met Dmitri and Sky during his first year at the Academy. The three of them had clicked almost immediately, their friendship growing out of late-night study sessions, shared frustrations, and a mutual appreciation for dark humor. They'd been his anchor in Zaun. Even now, their group chat rarely stays quiet for long, and between the constant texts and frequent calls, it almost feels like he never left.
He reaches for his laptop and balances it on the arm of the couch, careful to not disturb Rio. The screen comes to life exactly as he'd left it, a familiar maze of open tabs and half-finished documents. Research notes. Data sets. Draft chapters of a dissertation that still feels impossibly unfinished despite the years he's poured into it. Five years of work spread across countless files, endless revisions, and an ever-growing dependence on caffeine.
He loses himself in revisions almost immediately, chasing one thought into the next until the outside world quietly disappears. By the time he next glances at the clock it's half past eight and darkness has settled beyond the windows. He stretches, wincing as the stiffness in his spine and hip makes itself known. At some point Rio moved to the other end of the couch, where she is now stretched out, twitching in her sleep.
He closes the laptop, a low rumble of protest from his own stomach reminding him that he never got around to eating dinner. He stands, grabbing his cane from the floor and heads into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator. He scans the contents: a jar of pickles, some slightly wilted lettuce, a bottle of hot sauce, and a single bottle of beer. The cupboards are little better.
He sighs and pulls out his phone to order in and settles on the first place with decent reviews that delivers this late. He decides to get enough to guarantee leftovers, and sets his phone aside. A hot shower sounds far more appealing than sitting around hungry while he waits for the food to arrive.
He starts toward the bathroom when his phone buzzes again.
Sky: I'm about five minutes away
from shipping Dmitri to you if he
plays Wonderwall one more time.
He shakes his head, smiling to himself.
Viktor: That bad?
The typing indicator appears almost immediately.
Sky: At this point I'm convinced
he's doing it to spite me.
He can't help but laugh. Dmitri had taken up guitar after a bad breakup, with predictably awful results. He's lost count how many times they've begged him to play literally anything else.
Viktor: You have my deepest sympathies.
Sky: Anyway... are you all settled in yet?
Viktor: As settled as one can be surrounded
by a small mountain of unpacked boxes.
Sky: You haven't finished unpacking!?
You've been there for two weeks! Your
old dorm room was organized
within 24 hours of move-in day.
Viktor: That’s because my old dorm was the size
of a closet. This place has a second bedroom
I don't even know what to do with.
Sky: We can always make another trip and help!
Sky: Have you made any friends yet?
Dmitri: First. The spite is what gives the performance
its soul.
Dmitri: Second. If you replace us with any new
cool Piltover friends I'm never speaking
to you again.
Dmitri: Also the real question is have you
met any hot posh Pilty boys?
Sky: OMG stop harassing him.
Viktor: lol I've only been to campus once so far.
Dmitri: ONCE? What the hell have
you been doing this whole time?
Viktor: Unpacking? And suffering from
withdrawal, obviously.
Sky: Aww. We miss you too!
Dmitri: So... no hot posh boys?
Viktor shakes his head, smiling to himself as he types, fully aware of the inevitable barrage to follow.
Viktor: ....
Sky: OMG
Sky: OMG OMG OMG
Dmitri: SPILL
Viktor: I met someone in the bookstore earlier.
Sky: TELL US EVERYTHING
Viktor: Well, there's not much to
tell. He was... kind
Dmitri: Kind? That's it? That's the best
you've got? We need DETAILS. We need
adjectives. We need adverbs. We need
a full character study, Viktor. Don't hold out on us.
Viktor: He was ridiculously tall. Dark hair, hazel
eyes, and a beard. Really nice smile. Smelled
amazing. He's also in the same field, which
made him infinitely more attractive...
Sky: And???
Viktor: He was a little awkward, which was unbearably
cute. He offered to show me around too.
Viktor: Oh, he also had all these tattoos
but I couldn't see much of them.
Dmitri: Did you say yes?? Did you get
his number? His address? His social
security number?
Viktor: I didn't really get the chance. We
got interrupted. I don't even know if
he was actually flirting with me or
just being nice.
Sky: HE WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU.
Dmitri: You are the smartest idiot I know.
Of course he was flirting.
Sky: You need to find him!
Viktor: I don’t know... I'm still getting used
to being here, and classes start on Monday.
Dmitri: Viktor. You know we love you.
But good gods you need to get laid man.
Sky: DMITRI
Viktor puts his phone down for a moment, groaning. They're not wrong. It has been too long. And there are worse ways to break his self-imposed celibacy than with someone like him. He grabs his phone again and sees several new messages.
Dmitri: What? Am I wrong? He hasn't
dated anyone in years!
Sky: I mean...
Dmitri: What's the worst that could happen?
Tiny dick? Huge dick and hopeless in
bed? Oh shit, imagine if he has bad taste in music…
Viktor: I appreciate your input, Dmitri. I'll be
sure to keep your exhaustive list of
dealbreakers in mind.
Dmitri: You're welcome!
Another laugh slips free as he shakes his head at the screen.
Sky: Do you want to find him?
Viktor: I think I do, yeah.
Sky: Then you should go for it!
Dmitri: YES. Go get that pilty dick.
Sky: You're ridiculous, D.
Dmitri: Yeah well he's going to get
some. Do you know if he's in your classes?
Viktor: He said he worked in the same field.
He's definitely a little older, but I'm not
sure. We didn't get that far.
Dmitri: Maybe he's a TA for one of your classes?
Viktor: I don't know, maybe. But he seemed
familiar with Dr. Talis's work.
Viktor: I have my first meeting with Dr.
Talis this Monday
Sky: I'm so excited for you!
Dmitri: You have to tell us everything!
Viktor: I promise to keep you updated. Now if you'll
excuse me, I'm going to go shower, eat dinner,
and spend the rest of the evening attached
to my heating pad.
Dmitri: My self-care king! Love you!
Sky: Tell us how it goes!
Viktor: Will do. Ily too.
He sets the phone down, a lingering smile on his face. Their encouragement, chaotic as it is, is exactly what he needed to hear. He's going to go for it and ask him out. Like Dmitri said, what's the worst that could happen?
***
Monday arrives with the oppressive August heat clinging stubbornly to the city.
Viktor only lives a few blocks from campus, but by the time he reaches the Engineering building, a fine sheen of sweat has gathered on his brow and at the back of his neck.
He pauses just inside the entrance, scanning the directory mounted beside the lobby staircase until he finds Faculty Offices, then starts down the corridor it indicates.
His former advisor had arranged for him to finish his doctorate under Dr. Talis after announcing his retirement. Their research complemented one another well, and Viktor had been looking forward to meeting him ever since. He'd spent much of the summer reading the man's publications, finding them brilliant, ambitious, and occasionally infuriating in their optimism. If nothing else, he was curious to hear what Dr. Talis would make of his own research.
The Engineering building is a labyrinth of narrow hallways, faculty offices giving way to research labs and graduate workspaces. After one wrong turn and stopping to ask for directions, he finally spots the correct office number at the end of the corridor.
He pauses, taking a steadying breath, before raising a hand to knock on the open door.
"Come in," a warm, familiar voice calls from inside.
Viktor frowns, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over him as he pushes the door open and steps inside the office.
And freezes.
The man from the bookstore is sitting behind the desk, leaning back in his chair with a stack of papers in one hand. He looks up as Viktor enters, the smile on his face falling almost instantly. Recognition dawns in his eyes, followed by something close to panic.
"Oh, fuck," he says, the words barely a whisper.
Viktor's mind short-circuits, every thought dissolving into a static hum of disbelief. His breath catches.
This cannot be happening.
"You're Dr. Talis?" Viktor asks, though he already knows the answer.
The man—Dr. Talis—winces, running a hand through his already messy hair.
"Yes," he admits. "And you're…"
"Viktor," he supplies, his own name feeling foreign in his mouth. "Viktor. Your new advisee."
The silence that stretches between them is thick and suffocating. Every second feels like an eternity. He should say something. He should turn around and walk out. He should do something other than just stand there like an idiot.
"Dr. Talis, I don't..." He stops, taking a breath. "You—you knew?"
He is on his feet in an instant, both hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He looks almost painfully guilty.
"No," he says quickly. "I swear I didn't know. Well... I figured out you'd be in my class after our conversation, but I didn't realize you were my advisee."
"Right," Viktor says, the word clipped and tight. "So you were just... what? Flirting with your future student for fun?"
"No! I wasn't—I wasn't trying to flirt with you." He winces again. "Okay, I was. But you intrigued me. Most people hear 'Dr. Talis' and start trying to impress me. You just... told me what you actually thought."
"Because I didn't know who you were! Oh...oh gods, I insulted your work. To your face!" Viktor feels like he's going to be sick. "Dr. Talis, I'm so sorry…"
"Please, Viktor." He gestures toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Sit down. I promise, everything is fine. And please call me Jayce."
Viktor hesitates, then sinks into the chair, his knuckles white where he grips the arm rests. He stares at the rug, unable to meet Jayce's eyes. He wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. This is an academic nightmare. His entire future at this university, everything he has worked for, is flashing before his eyes.
Jayce rounds the desk, sitting on the edge of it, bringing them closer. He rests a hand on the worn wood of the desk, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against the surface.
"First, let me apologize, I should have told you who I was in the bookstore," he admits. "I just... I liked talking to you. I liked that you weren't just another academic trying to kiss my ass."
Viktor finally glances up, meeting Jayce's gaze.
"And second," he continues, "I wasn't offended. Not even a little bit. I wasn't lying when I said he... I mean, I would love to hear your theories."
Viktor just stares at him, completely unsure of what to say.
"And third," Jayce's expression softens further, "I am not going to let one incredibly awkward introduction ruin what I'm sure will be a very productive academic relationship."
Viktor lets out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"I understand if this is uncomfortable," Jayce adds gently. "If you'd prefer, I can speak with the department head about finding you a new advisor."
The offer hangs in the air between them. The professional, the safe option. He should take it. He knows he should. But some stupid, stubborn part of him—the same part that had been so drawn to this man in the bookstore—doesn't want to.
"No," Viktor says, his voice firm. "No, that won't be necessary, Dr. Talis."
A slow smile spreads across Jayce's face.
"Jayce."
Viktor hesitates, then nods. "Jayce."
"Good." He stands and moves back around to his chair. "Now that that's settled, why don't we start over? Properly, this time."
They begin with his dissertation. Jayce asks about the work he completed under his former advisor, the questions that remain unanswered, and where he hopes to take the research. Viktor condenses months of work into an overview while Jayce fills a page with neat, hurried notes. More than once, Viktor catches Jayce's eyes moving over him instead of the pages on the desk. He tries to ignore the butterflies it sends through him.
It doesn't take long for Jayce to grasp the foundation of his research, asking thoughtful questions that reassure Viktor he won't have to spend the next year explaining every concept from the ground up.
Jayce leans back in his chair, thoughtful, before absently dragging a hand through his already unruly hair. "I've read your proposal," he says. "Your work on synaptic integration is fascinating, but your current approach feels a little... conservative."
He rises from his chair, rolling his sleeves to his forearms as he gathers Viktor's draft and heads for the whiteboard. The movement exposes the tattoos hidden beneath the fabric, constellations winding around one arm while orbital diagrams, geometric sketches, and elegant mathematical linework wrap the other.
Viktor's gaze follows the intricate ink as it winds down Jayce's forearm and across the back of his hand. He continues tracing the design as Jayce raises the hand to his mouth, watching as he catches the cap of the marker between his teeth and pulls it free with an absentminded ease. The brief flash of a sharp canine catches Viktor's attention. His gaze settles on Jayce's mouth, watching the words take shape instead of hearing them. It isn't until one of those words finally breaks through that Viktor blinks back to himself.
"Viktor?"
He jerks his gaze upward, only to find Jayce watching him, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. Heat blooms across Viktor's face, but he refuses to look away.
"Sorry," he mutters, clearing his throat. "Go on."
The smirk deepens into a full-blown smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
"Right," Jayce says, clearly amused.
The rest of the meeting passes without further embarrassment, though not without a certain awareness between them. As Viktor starts to pack up, Jayce gathers the pages scattered across his desk, adding a few final notes before tearing a sheet from his legal pad and sliding it across to Viktor.
"I don't expect you to start making changes right away," Jayce says. "Get settled first. I've pulled together a few references I'd like you to look over before we meet again. They should give you a better idea of where I'd like to take your research."
Viktor scans the list before tucking it carefully into his notebook.
"I will. Thank you."
As he grabs his things, he feels Jayce's eyes on him again. He's just shouldering his messenger bag when Jayce speaks.
"Hey, Viktor?"
Viktor pauses, looking at him expectantly.
"About what I said the other day..." Jayce trails off for a moment before continuing. "The offer still stands. If you ever want that tour."
"I..." Viktor hesitates. "I wouldn't want to make things complicated."
"No, right, I get that." Jayce nods quickly. "I wasn't trying to put you in an awkward position. I just... I enjoyed talking to you, and I'd still like to. I mean—I’d still like to talk to you. Outside of..." He gestures vaguely around the office. "This."
He lets out a quiet breath, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth.
"Gods, that sounded smoother in my head." He huffs a quiet laugh. "I'm starting to think I have a habit of forgetting how words work around you."
Viktor stifles the giggle that threatens to bubble up, hiding a smile behind his hand. He can't remember the last time someone had made him blush this much, let alone enjoy it.
"What I'm trying to say," Jayce continues, "is that I would very much like to get to know you still. As friends. Unless you think that would be too weird."
"No, it's not—" Viktor stops, considering. "It's not weird."
"Oh," Jayce says, relief evident in his tone. "Great! Then... maybe we could get coffee sometime. Or lunch. Or something. Casually."
"Casually," Viktor repeats. "Yes."
They fall into an awkward silence as Jayce walks him to the door, neither quite sure how to end the conversation.
"Well, you have my number in the email I sent last week," Jayce says, gesturing vaguely. "So, you can call or text or—whatever. If you want."
"I will."
The hallway is empty when Viktor steps out of the office. He glances back to find Jayce still watching him from the doorway.
"See you Wednesday, Jayce."
"I'll see you Wednesday, Viktor."
His mind is racing as he makes his way to his first class, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he can't quite untangle. He should be mortified. And he is, a little. But beneath the embarrassment, there's something he can't deny.
He has a crush on his advisor.
A massive, ill-advised, completely unprofessional crush.
Sky and Dmitri are never letting him live this down.