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"I hate you," Jayce told Caitlyn.
Cassandra Kiramman, who had resumed Jayce's patronage as soon as she saw which way the wind was blowing, had launched an entire line of merchandise to help finance the equipment for the lab as well as a stipend for Jayce and Viktor to live on.
The merchandise—planned, designed, and executed entirely without either Viktor's or Jayce's input—had delivered a bunch of prototypes to the Kiramman home for approval before going into full-scale production.
Caitlyn had found the prototypes and gleefully brought several to the lab to mock Jayce with them.
He was, indeed, feeling very mocked. The square-jawed profile on the mugs and posters was an abstraction that only barely resembled him, and the title "Man of Progress" was simply embarrassing. Everyone at the Academy was a person of progress—man, woman, or otherwise! But some marketing specialist on the Councilor's team had come up with it, and here it was.
Caitlyn was sitting on his desk, the bag of merchandise clutched against her chest, watching with wide-eyed delight as he paced the lab, ranting. "And what about Viktor?" he demanded. "Why isn't he on here? Why doesn't this say Men of Progress? He's my partner!" He turned toward Viktor, scowling. "You're my partner!"
"I am," Viktor agreed placidly, "but I am quite content for you to be the face of Hextech. It is enough for me that you recognize my contributions and that my name is listed along with yours on the patents. I do not seek fame, and I most especially do not seek to be condensed into an image for posters and coffee cups and children's building sets and whatever other humiliations Councilor Kiramman has devised. No offense," he added politely to Caitlyn.
"Not at all," she said, blithely brushing aside the possibility of insult. "But speaking of humiliations..."
Jayce fell onto the sofa they'd scrounged with a groan. "Haven't you done enough?"
"Just one more thing, I promise!" She dug into her bag and withdrew...
...a little doll, made of fabric and stuffed. It was, head to toe, about as long as Jayce's forearm, and meticulously dressed in a more-or-less accurate rendition of the Academy student uniform.
If it had just been a generic Academy student, he would've found it rather cute, actually. But whoever had embroidered the face had clearly been someone who'd spent some time in studying Jayce's face and had been willing to expend a moderate amount of effort to make it as accurate as possible. They'd included both the notch in his right eyebrow from an early accident in the forge and the scar on his opposite cheek from the night of Hextech's birth. The overlarge eyes even acceptably reproduced the color of Jayce's own eyes, more or less, though he thought the long eyelashes were a bit much; he could practically seeing them fluttering.
"That's horrendous," Jayce said. "It's awful. Please tell me that's just a prank."
"I think it's quite charming," Viktor said, and even if his expression was tightly controlled, Jayce could hear the mischievous smirk in his voice.
"Viktor, no," Jayce pleaded.
Viktor pretended not to hear him. "Do you know when they will be available for purchase?"
"Caitlyn, tell him it's just a prank and they're not going to be produced," Jayce begged.
"I'm not sure," Caitlyn said, also ignoring Jayce. "But you may have this one, if you like. Mother told me she was done with her evaluations and that I could take what I liked."
"May I?" Viktor said, looking mildly surprised and unaccountably pleased. "That's very kind of you, Miss Kiramman; thank you."
"Of course!" Caitlyn handed over the doll.
Jayce considered lunging across the room to snatch it away, but he would only be mocked even more for allowing himself to be so annoyed by such a small thing. Fine. If he held his peace, Viktor would tease him about it a little—which somehow was a less annoying prospect than Caitlyn teasing him—and then get rid of the thing or at least take it home, and Jayce could forget about it, more or less.
It was fine. Fine.
Viktor turned it over in his hands, examining it closely, and hummed thoughtfully. He tugged gently at the uniform's collar. "Do the clothes come off?" he wondered.
"Viktor, what the fuck?!" Jayce burst.
Viktor gasped and put his hands over where the doll's ears would be, if it had any. "Do not speak this way in front of Jaycíček!"
Jayce gave his partner his very best approximation of his mother's Don't Even Try It, Mister look, heroically ignoring the way Caitlyn was nearly screaming with laughter.
Viktor smiled and set the doll very gently on the side of his desk. "Do not worry," he said. "I merely wish to discover if he is able to wear different clothing. I imagine he would find wearing the uniform day after day somewhat tiring. I know I do."
"What are you going to do, make new clothes for him?" Jayce wondered.
"I do not know why not," Viktor said with exaggerated hauteur. "I am not useless with a needle, and there is a seamstress in the apartment below mine who might be persuaded to give me scraps that are too small for normal use."
"But you—" Jayce cut himself off. Why was he arguing this?
If Viktor wanted to spend his few leisure hours creating a wardrobe for a toy, who was Jayce to try to stop him?
Jayce threw his hands up. "Fine, whatever," he proclaimed. "Now that you're done torturing me, Sprout, go away. We have important science to do."
She jumped down off of his desk and saluted crisply. "Yes, sir, Mr. Man of Progress, sir!"
Behind him, Viktor made a noise. It sounded exactly like a mid-grade Passler valve on the verge of seizing up from lack of oil. Jayce didn't turn around to determine whether his partner needed oiling.
"And take your awful junk with you, too," Jayce instructed.
"Actually," Viktor said, and Jayce could hear him holding back giggles, "I'll keep the mug, too, if that's okay?"
Jayce grumbled and stomped back over to his desk. Unlike some people, apparently, he had work to do.
The doll seemed to have been granted a permanent position on the side of Viktor's desk, propped up between an old coffee cup full of pens and the tray where he usually threw his keys so he wouldn't lose them in the constantly-shifting clutter that covered the rest of the desk. But as far as Jayce could tell, Viktor didn't really pay it much attention.
Jayce tried turning it around to face the wall once, just out of curiosity, and it stayed like that for several days before Jayce found it turned back to its normal position.
Probably by the cleaning crew, Jayce decided. Viktor didn't really seem to care. The joke of it had passed.
Jayce breathed a sigh of relief.
"How do I look?" Jayce asked, coming out of the bathroom and turning to show off his new suit.
"Stunning, as always," Viktor said, before he even lifted his head, which was his idea of a joke, Jayce was pretty sure. "That's new," he added, after he had actually looked.
"The Councilor insisted that I have something in a more formal cut for this dinner," Jayce said. He fidgeted with his cuffs, trying to get them to settle properly.
"It looks very nice," Viktor approved. He got up and came closer, then sniffed lightly. "You've even used the fancy aftershave. This must be a very important dinner."
"One of the Houses that controls the steel we're going to need," Jayce allowed. "She's told me four times this week alone to be on my best behavior. By which she means," he added, "that I should be quiet and let her do the talking."
"If it's business, that may be safest," Viktor agreed. He nudged Jayce's chin up with the soft tap of a knuckle. Jayce's stomach did something liquid as Viktor adjusted the tie with a vaguely proprietary air. "There, that's better." One slim hand trailed down the lapel of Jayce's suit coat. "I like this fabric, what is it?"
"Hm?" Jayce blinked a couple of times to recover from the light scent of Viktor's hair and the warmth of those golden eyes, but he still couldn't answer the question. Councilor Kiramman had done all the ordering; Jayce's only job had been to stand still for the tailor's measurements. He tried to remember what she'd said. "Uh... Wool gabardine, I think. I should be on my way. Should I stop by afterward, or are you going home at a reasonable hour?"
"Mm, I might actually go home," Viktor said. "I'm going to need your help for the corrosion stress analysis, anyway."
"Shocking," Jayce laughed. "You, home on time? What's next? Dogs flying? The sun falling into the sea? You eating dinner?"
"Let us not devolve into the entirely absurd," Viktor chided, though he was smiling slightly. "Enjoy your dinner."
"Thanks, I won't. See you tomorrow?"
"Of course, barring the sun falling into the sea. If that happens, I believe I will take the entire day off."
Jayce laughed as he left the lab. It wasn't the worst way to begin an evening.
"Good morning," Jayce called as he came into the lab and shucked his coat to hang on the hooks by the door. "Have you drunk all the coffee yet?" He hadn't been up as late last night as he had been at the dinner a week ago—he'd nearly seen the dawn at that one—but he'd certainly been up well into the small hours.
"Yes, but I just started a fresh pot for you," Viktor said, not turning around from the chalkboard, where he was calculating the secondary wave strength of various rune combinations. "It should be done in just a few minutes."
"You're a miracle," Jayce said. He dropped off his notebook at his desk and veered directly to the corner of the lab where they kept the coffee machine.
True to his word, the fresh pot Viktor had started was nearly done brewing. Jayce got a cup off the shelf in readiness, then leaned one hip against the counter to wait out the last dribbling stream.
His eye fell on Viktor's desk, and then paused, because something was different.
It was a peculiar thing to think, because Viktor's desk was always different. The papers got shuffled around, the reference books swapped out, the prototypes changed. But this was something else, and it took Jayce until well past the completion of the coffee's brewing to identify it: the doll had new clothes.
Jayce blinked, and then rubbed his eyes and blinked again, but it remained the same. Absently, Jayce poured his coffee, then went over to Viktor's desk and picked up the little toy.
It seemed to be wearing a near copy of the suit he'd worn to the previous week's dinner, in a crisp linen shirt and wool gabardine suit, studded with tiny silver buttons and elegantly set off with a miniature but perfectly tied silk cravat. "Did you do this?" Jayce asked.
"Hm?" Viktor glanced around. "Oh. Yes. It was time for a change, I thought. Jaycíček looks quite dapper in it, if I do say so myself."
"Yes, I suppose so," Jayce agreed. He set the doll back in its place, sipped his coffee, and turned toward the board. "Have you made any progress on finding a combination that won't disrupt the main power flow?"
After that, the doll acquired a new outfit every couple of weeks. Sometimes they were copies of Jayce's own clothes; other times they were more imaginative.
"What the heck is this?" Jayce demanded, poking at a shirt made from what appeared to be something that Heimerdinger's poro had inadvisably eaten and then hacked up.
"Eh, I wanted to see what Jaycíček would look like in more Zaunish styles," Viktor said. "Of course, he is very handsome in this. But I do not think he would blend in well, with such a Piltie haircut."
That was the thing. Without fail, Viktor complimented the doll with each new outfit, calling it handsome or fetching or elegant or any of a dozen other words that meant attractive.
They were often words Viktor had used in reference to Jayce himself, from time to time, usually when Jayce asked for an opinion regarding his attire or presentability, Viktor not being given to spontaneous compliments. Not for Jayce, anyway. Jayce had never really thought much of it before; he had similarly reassured Viktor on the few occasions they were both forced to be present for a lecture or demonstration or fundraising effort.
Viktor's accolades for the doll were probably just a backhanded way of complimenting himself for his skill at creating the small garments. But the fond smile he gave the doll each time twisted in Jayce's guts.
Jayce had no idea what it meant. If it even meant anything. It probably didn't mean anything.
But it had gone on for long enough that it wasn't just an amusing way to mock Jayce. If anything, it almost seemed to be a flattering sort of homage, especially when Viktor copied Jayce's own clothes.
There was a whole box of them, now, a neatly-constructed wardrobe of shirts and pants and suits and ties and even shoes. It had a hat, scarf, and mittens that Caitlyn had knitted for it, and a miniature labcoat and safety goggles to wear when they were doing more volatile experiments (even though it was always kept carefully well away from any labwork which might result in actual damage).
After about half a year, it had become an unofficial lab mascot. During their infrequent breaks, they sometimes discussed what other items should be added to its wardrobe. They argued genially over their morning coffee about what it should wear that day.
Jayce's stomach twisted a little more each day when, dressed in its neat little clothes, Viktor would pat it on the head and tell it how appealing or fetching or glorious it looked, especially if it had been a while since Jayce himself had been on the receiving end of any similar remarks.
Which was stupid, he knew it was stupid, and he did his best to ignore it. He wasn't unaware of the crush he'd developed for his partner—it had been almost inevitable, really—but really, jealousy over a toy was beyond ridiculous, even for him.
Viktor had begun taking the doll home with him, most nights. For fittings, he said, but Jayce secretly suspected that Viktor felt guilty leaving it all alone in the lab overnight.
Perhaps that was what prompted Jayce's decision to commission his own doll of Viktor.
Jayce didn't actually set out to commission a doll of Viktor.
He'd gone to the seamstress (not the one in Viktor's building, a different one, near his own apartment) to talk to her about a new coat for his mother. The current one was becoming a bit threadbare, and if there was one thing that Jayce never wanted her to suffer again, it was the cold.
He'd just finished discussing the details with the seamstress when he noticed a little row of plush dolls sitting along a shelf. "These are cute," he said. "Did you make them?"
"Oh, yes. It's a hobby, really."
Jayce considered them. They weren't unlike the doll on Viktor's desk, and the idea hit him in something of a flash. "Would you consider doing one on commission?"
She smiled benignly. "A gift for a child in your life?"
Jayce squirmed a little at having to admit that it was for himself, but if it was going to be as detailed as he wanted, he was going to have to explain.
Luckily, she was charmed by the idea, and even suggested a basic wardrobe for the toy—Jayce was already mentally calling it Viktorito in retaliation for Jaycíček—and the price she quoted him was very reasonable.
Jayce had to sneak some of Jaycíček's clothes away to her, so she could match the colors and get a good sense of the proportions he wanted the doll to have. He took a couple of outfits at a time and replaced them as soon as she returned them to him, his heart in his throat the whole time with worry that Viktor would notice them missing and ask about them.
She told him that it would take about a month to finish the doll and two or three of the outfits (his mother's coat being the top priority, of course). Jayce waited for it excitedly, eager to tease Viktor in return.
When he finally saw it, he was amazed at how beautifully it was done. The color of the eyes was exactly right, the precious little moles were in the correct places, precisely as Jayce had described them to her. And despite it being entirely made of cloth and felt and wool batting, she had somehow managed to capture the delicate porcelain cast of Viktor's skin.
There weren't as many clothes, of course, but the ones that were made were perfectly done: a school uniform, of course; Viktor's one good suit that he wore whenever he was forced to attend a function with Jayce, along with several tiny cravats and pins to change up the look; a pair of pajamas, complete with a tiny sleep mask (Jayce had no idea if Viktor wore a sleep mask to bed but it was adorable); and—for no reason at all that Jayce could discern, since they hadn't discussed it, a very pretty little dress with a purple flower print and apron.
"That one was a reject from another customer," the seamstress told him when she saw him eyeing it in confusion. "There's nothing wrong with it except she wanted pink instead of purple flowers. I figured I'd throw it in for you; the doll's the right size for it, and I think it would look cute on him."
Jayce obligingly held the dress up to Viktorito and had to admit, it would look cute. The purple of the flowers matched well with the doll's golden eyes.
Then Jayce caught himself trying to imagine what the real Viktor would look like in an analogous dress and had to quickly change mental topics before something embarrassing happened in front of the poor innocent seamstress.
Jayce had made Viktorito's cane himself, of course—it was a perfect replica of the real one that Jayce had made for Viktor shortly after they'd begun working together. At Jayce's request, Viktorito's hand had a small loop of fabric on its palm; he slipped the handle of the tiny cane through it, and stood back to admire it. "It's perfect," he told the seamstress.
She smiled proudly. "Come back if you want more clothes," she suggested. "I'll give you a discount."
Jayce hid Viktorito in his bag when he went to work the next day and waited for Viktor to leave the room, then set the little doll on his desk, almost directly across from where Jaycíček sat on Viktor's. Jayce made sure the doll was propped up neatly, then he dove back into his calculations and waited with bated breath for Viktor to return and notice.
He did not have to wait long.
"I think if we are going to move on to fourth-stage—" Viktor stopped speaking, and Jayce looked up at him, feigning innocence.
It wasn't an expression that Jayce was very good at, but that was all right, because Viktor wasn't looking at him.
"What," Viktor said finally, in a somewhat strangled voice, "is that."
"Hm? Oh, you mean Viktorito?"
Viktor snorted at the name, then stalked over to Jayce's desk and picked up the doll, turning it this way and that to examine it and its little Academy uniform. He narrowed his eyes at the little cane and examined it minutely. Finally, he looked back at Jayce. "Does he have any other clothes?"
"A few," Jayce admitted. "Not nearly as many as Jaycíček."
"Your accent is atrocious. We will work on it for the sake of my sanity. Show me the clothes." Viktor's tone brooked no argument, so Jayce opened his bag and took out the rest of Viktorito's minimal wardrobe.
Viktor examined each item closely, fingering the cloth, peering closely at the stitches, and humming thoughtfully over the detail work. "Very nice," he finally admitted. Then he held up the dress. "Was this your idea?"
Jayce fought down his blush. "Ah, no, it was kind of leftover stock and she threw it in because she thought the purple would suit your— Viktorito's —eyes."
Viktor nodded. "Your seamstress is an excellent judge of color," he said. "Perhaps I will find something like it for myself."
Jayce nearly choked, and Viktor raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't think I could carry it off?"
"I did not say that," Jayce said firmly. "It's just not... uh. What you usually wear."
"Well," Viktor said, gently setting Viktorito back in its spot on Jayce's desk, "we all like to feel pretty sometimes."
Jayce got... very little done for the rest of the day.
If Viktor bought himself a dress to match Viktorito's, he didn't wear it anywhere that Jayce saw.
Jayce wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed by that.
(That was a lie.)
(He was definitely disappointed.)
The next time that Viktor made clothes for Jaycíček, he also brought in a matching outfit for Viktorito.
Jayce changed Viktorito into the new outfit, then without even thinking about it, kissed its yarn hair and said, "Very pretty, querido."
He set the doll in its accustomed place on his desk and turned to thank Viktor, only to catch Viktor staring, wide-eyed. "Vik? You okay?"
Viktor blinked and shook himself like a wet cat, then re-focused on Jayce. "Forgive me," he said. "My mind was... elsewhere, for a moment. Let us begin with the analysis results."
He couldn't let Viktor have all the fun, Jayce decided. It took him about a week, fitting it in around the work he was doing for Hextech, but he came into the lab one morning with a box that he brandished triumphantly at Viktor.
"What is this?" Viktor willingly set down his pencil and picked up his cane to come to Jayce's desk.
Jayce opened the box and pushed it over so Viktor could peer in.
"Scrap metal?" Viktor guessed. He picked up one small piece and frowned at it. "No, you made this," he amended. "I would recognize your welding seams anywhere. But it is not for the lab, we need nothing of this shape." He reached in again, and as the metal in the box shifted, his eyes widened. He pulled out the item that had caught his eye. "You made a suit of armor for Jaycíček? Does that make Viktorito the damsel in distress?"
"No," Jayce said indignantly. "I made the armor for Viktorito. It seemed fitting. You did save my life, after all. Though," he added, being fair, "the armor would probably fit Jaycíček, too. Unlike you and I, they are very similar in size."
Viktor hummed, examining the tiny helmet. "This is exquisite work," he praised. "But Viktorito cannot be a knight, Jayce. Like me, he has a cane, does he not?"
"Eh," Jayce said dismissively, still fighting down a blush from the accolades. "Knights mostly operate on horseback anyway. Give him a modified saddle to support the bad leg and he's the most skilled jouster in the kingdom."
Viktor snorted. "Very fanciful," he said. "Do you have an accompanying outfit for Jaycíček, then? A princess's ballgown? A wizard's robe and staff? An alchemist's scales and bottles? A dragon costume?"
"No, but those sound cute, maybe I'll commission them if you don't want to make them yourself. Obviously, Jaycíček is Viktorito's loyal squire."
"Squi— Jayce, you have said yourself that we are equals, have you not? So they must also be."
"Of course," Jayce said. He began carefully fastening the armor to Viktorito. "It's just a silly costume, V."
"So our dolls are playing pretend?" Viktor said, eyebrows raising.
"Exactly," Jayce said, smiling. He carefully squeezed Viktorito's head into the helmet, then lifted the faceplate. "Look at that," he said. "Handsome and heroic. A sight to make any maiden swoon."
Viktor scoffed gently. "Eh, if I am the model then he would prefer to impress the other knights," and then quickly continued, "It is time for us to get to work. I believe Councilors Medarda and Kiramman are coming this afternoon to consider our progress."
Jayce was not at his most productive that day, either.
"Good morning, Sky," Jayce said. How crazy was it that Hextech was big enough now, after only a few years, that they needed an assistant? Jayce liked Sky; she was smart and polite and very helpful. He was glad that Viktor had recommended her for the position before any of the Houses could try to push their agendas by forwarding one of their own.
"Good morning, Mr. Talis," she said, offering him a bright smile.
"C'mon, it's just Jayce," he wheedled. "You use Viktor's name."
She giggled into her hand. "Viktor doesn't have another name for me to use," she pointed out. She'd been working for them for almost a month now; Jayce was pretty sure she was deliberately fucking with him about the names. He liked her the better for it, really. "Speaking of which," she added, "Viktor sent a note. He's not feeling well, so he's going to take a couple of days off."
That... was surprising. They'd been working together for—gosh, almost three years, now—and Jayce had never seen Viktor take more than an afternoon off for illness before. Jayce tried to imagine the seriousness of the illness that would actually force Viktor to remain home for two whole days. His imagination paled.
"That's concerning," he told Sky. "Did he say anything else? Is there anything we can do to help him feel better?"
"No, but I don't think you need to worry too much," she said. "His handwriting was still mostly illegible." Jayce chuckled as she handed him the note and several folders. "That does mean I need you to finish the budget report so I can clean it up and get it to Dean Heimerdinger before the end of the week."
Jayce groaned. "Maybe that's why he's taking time off. He just doesn't want to do the budget report."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Sky said, amused. "Your usual for lunch?"
"Yes, thanks." Jayce walked past her desk and into the lab.
It seemed too quiet, even though Viktor was not normally a noisy companion. But Jayce immediately missed the quiet creak of Viktor's stool as he shifted, the scratch of his pen on paper or the dry scratch of chalk on the board. The quiet wheeze of his breath was far more conspicuous in its absence than it ever had been when they were together.
Jayce pushed back a ridiculous feeling of disappointment and loss. With or without Viktor, there was plenty of work to do.
He should do the budget report first, he knew. They always took longer than he thought they should, and he didn't want to be responsible for them missing the deadline. Still, he whined inwardly at the thought of it while he got the coffee started. "Looks like it's just us today, boys," he told Viktorito and Jaycíček.
While he waited for the coffee, he changed Viktorito into his pajamas. "Maybe if you stay in bed today, your counterpart will, also," he told the doll. They hadn't built any furniture for the toys—there wasn't much room on their desks, and the workbenches were too hazardous a spot for the soft dolls—but he used an old notebook for a bed and managed to find a spare handkerchief to serve as Viktorito's blanket.
The coffee was only half done, so Jayce plucked his own counterpart off Viktor's desk and opened the lid of the little box of clothing and peered in, pondering Jaycíček's selection for the day.
With a sudden laugh, he dug to the bottom of the box and found the little nurse's uniform that Viktor had made—originally intended as a somewhat pointed way to mock Jayce for being overly-concerned about Viktor's health. "Who's fussing now?" he shot at Viktorito as he tied on the little dress and cap.
Still you, Jayce imagined Viktor responding, with the particular snap of irritation his voice acquired when he knew Jayce had a point but didn't want to admit it yet.
He set Jaycíček on his desk, right next to Viktorito. "Keep an eye on the patient, will you?"
The coffee was done, so Jayce got a cup and settled in to plow his way through the damned budget report.
When he finally had it finished, he looked over at Viktorito. "Pretending to be sick is a cheater's move," he informed the doll. "I'd have helped with the report if you'd just asked."
Viktorito stared at Jayce, unimpressed. Neither Viktor nor his counterpart were likely to ask for help.
"Ah, but you're outnumbered now," he told Viktorito. "Didn't you rest better with Nurse Jaycíček nearby to help?" He picked up Jaycíček and made the toy kiss Viktorito's forehead, the way Jayce's mother had always kissed his own forehead when he was sick.
A light giggle warned him that he'd been overheard. He looked up and—yes, Sky had come into the lab, carrying his—lunch? He glanced up at the clock and groaned; he'd lost the entire morning to the report. "I'll trade you," he offered Sky, holding out the budget with one hand and taking the tray from her with the other, and definitely not acknowledging that she'd caught him playing with dolls.
She skimmed down the page. "Your handwriting is much neater than his," she observed, likewise pretending she hadn't seen anything giggle-worthy. Jayce considered offering her a raise.
"It is when I know someone else will be reading it," he agreed instead. "Habit from having to draw and label schematics for the forge. But I think I got my first clue that Viktor was a genius when he managed to decipher the shorthand I use in my personal notes."
Sky laughed as she retreated from the lab. "Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Talis."
"It's just Jayce!" he called after her, then shook his head with a rueful smile. At least now he could leave Viktorito in Jaycíček's capable hands and let himself get lost in something actually useful and interesting. Like the gemstone idea he and Viktor had been batting around, maybe. He grabbed up a fresh piece of chalk and cleared a swath of the board to start brainstorming.
Jayce jolted awake, and only then realized that he'd fallen asleep at his desk, notebook of calculations and speculations still open under his hand.
On the desk, the thump of his waking had tipped Jaycíček over so he was lying half on top of Viktorito. Cute as the dolls were, the positioning was somewhat... suggestive.
Jayce set Jaycíček upright again, sitting next to Viktorito. "Getting ahead of yourself there, aren't you?" he chided lightly. "He is still sick, after all." Still sleepy, Jayce laid his arm on the desk and rested his head on it, considering the toys. "Or maybe I should ask you for advice. I can't seem to summon the courage. Still. There's no need to move quite that fast. Maybe start with just a kiss."
He picked Jaycíček back up with his free hand and made his effigy kiss Viktorito sweetly. "See, isn't that nice?"
"Quite lovely," said a voice behind him.
The voice sounded a little like Viktor's.
...A lot like Viktor's, actually.
Briefly, Jayce considered the possibility that there might be someone in the lab that he shared with Viktor, where he and Viktor did their work together, who spoke with Viktor's voice and accent, but who was not, in fact, Viktor.
The odds seemed very low.
Very carefully, Jayce set Jaycíček back down beside Viktorito.
Then Jayce very deliberately covered his head with his arm to hide his embarrassed flush. He allowed himself one extremely quiet whine before he said, very calmly, "I thought you were out for the rest of the week."
"I recalled that the budget report was due tomorrow," Viktor said, just as calmly. "Or, technically, later today. I thought if I came in very late, I could get it done without risk of infecting anyone else."
"Ah." Jayce swallowed. "Sky made me do it," he said. "And you're just going to make yourself sicker, wandering around at night like that."
"I will buy you a nurse's uniform to match Jaycíček's," Viktor threatened. "I am fine."
Jayce huffed, because they both knew Viktor wasn't fine, but they also both knew that he wasn't about to admit anything else.
Silence fell.
Jayce wondered if Viktor could be convinced to go back home and back to bed, and then when he woke in the actual morning instead of the technical morning, he might write the whole incident off as a fever dream. And never mention it.
Those odds seemed pretty low, too.
But they weren't zero. Jayce opened his mouth to suggest it.
Before he could speak, Viktor said, "Is there something you would like to ask me, Jayce?"
Jayce groaned. Just a little bit. He asked, "How much did you hear?"
"Since I believe it was my opening the door that woke you," Viktor said, "I would assume I heard the whole thing."
Of course he had.
"Of course you did." Jayce considered the dolls, with their wide, bright, almost hopeful eyes. "I don't suppose you could be convinced that this is a fever dream?"
"It seems unlikely," Viktor said. His cane tapped against the floor, and Jayce listened to him approaching Jayce's desk. "Is there something else you would like to ask me?"
"Yes," Jayce admitted. "But you just heard me admit my cowardice, so..." He left the statement unfinished. It should be enough for Viktor to extrapolate. Viktor was extremely smart.
"Perhaps it would help," Viktor suggested, now close enough to lean a hip against Jayce's desk, "if I told you that you may anticipate a favorable response."
"Couldn't you just ask and save me the trouble?" Jayce begged.
"No. I had to find out like this? The least you can do is sit up, look me in the eye, and ask properly."
All of that? Jayce whined again, but he forced himself upright, for the first time looking away from Jaycíček and Viktorito.
Viktor was even paler than usual, which Jayce would not have believed possible, except for the bright red spots on his cheeks that meant he was still at least somewhat feverish. The dark circles under his eyes were indicative of his struggle with his illness. But he smiled kindly when Jayce looked at him, and though his eyebrows were raised expectantly, he slipped his fingers through Jayce's hair to settle it. "Go on," he encouraged.
Jayce took a deep, deep breath. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Viktor's smile widened. "I would like that very much, yes."
"You would?" It shouldn't have been a surprise. Jayce knew that Viktor knew what Jayce was going to ask. And Viktor had said the response would be favorable.
And yet, it still was a little bit of a shock.
"Yes. After—" He had to break to turn away and cough. "After I am feeling better, of course."
"Well, now I really want you to go back to bed." Something warm and wondrous and joyous was spreading through Jayce's veins; it felt exactly like the way the magic had wrapped around him when he was a lost and frightened child. "So you can get well faster."
Viktor hummed gently, fire glowing behind the gold of his eyes. "Do you know what would really speed my recovery?"
"What?" Jayce straightened. Was Viktor actually going to let him help for once?
Viktor's arm snaked out, and before Jayce could follow the movement, he was holding up Jaycíček. "If you were to wear the outfit."
Jayce laughed. "Maybe," he allowed. "If you'll wear that dress with the purple flowers for our first date."
Viktor smirked. "Deal."
He leaned in and kissed Jayce's cheek. Jayce tried to catch his waist, to hold him close, but Viktor backed away again. "I don't want you to get sick," he said with a wry smile. "But you may walk me home."
"Deal," Jayce agreed, though he wouldn't mind the risk of illness if it meant he could be close to Viktor again. He got up to put on his coat.
Viktor, who hadn't taken his own coat off yet, gently tucked Jaycíček under the makeshift blanket with Viktorito. "Get some rest, boys," he murmured. "You'll need it."