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Sit Next To Me

Chapter 9: You're Time to Shine, Catholic Boy.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

…Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Okay, so it's been...2 and a half months. Sorry about that. If it were up to me, this thing would be posted every week, but oh well. It's been a busy time, new roommates, new job, I'm not a lesbian anymore. Ya know, the whole deal. Anyways, I'm happy to finally post this! Huge shout out to everyone in Freaktor Nation discord server, lmao and extra huge shout out @seaweedbumblebee for beta reading the monster of a chapter. It's a long one, sorry y'all. Also... you might want to have google translate at the ready.

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When Viktor woke up in the morning, he realized he had several problems, ranging from the fact that his house was trashed to an ache just under his shoulder blade. There were two problems in particular that were particularly pressing: Problem one. Waking up to you next to him - breathing gently, looking perfectly content and beautiful - Viktor realized that he had unknowingly waded past the point of return. He was nearing the edge, now. A current at his back relentlessly pushing him towards the drop off, nothing but dark unknowable water waiting for the fall.

Problem two. He was incredibly hard. Painfully so.

Cringing, Viktor decided his physical problem was more urgent than his emotional one. He rolled over slowly until he was facing the edge of the bed and awkwardly tucked himself into the waistband of his sweats. Hoping that it would keep him hidden enough in case, by some cosmic trick of the universe, you decided to wake up before he could lock himself away in his bathroom. In his hurry to create distance, he stood without giving the rest of his body a second thought.

His hip gave a muffled pop and he could feel the strain of his tendons as they stretched out. He hissed, balling his fist up and biting the side of his hand to keep from making too much noise. He placed a hand on the wall next to him, taking a few steady breaths and trying to let the ache subside enough to move. Luckily, yesterday's version of him had made an assumption that chasing down drunk kids all night might take a toll on his body and his crutch was already close by. He slipped his arm into the cuff, testing his weight before stepping completely away from the wall.

A sigh of relief left him as he shut the bathroom door. He looked at himself in the mirror and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He was a mess. Hair pulled in every direction by your hands, dark makeup still clinging to his waterline, hard dick trapped in the waistband of his pants, and a red and purple bouquet of hickeys you gifted him just under the collar of his shirt.

A mess curated perfectly by you. That was the only reason he accepted it. He let you do this to him. He let you do this to him.

He turned the shower on. A cold shower would help him in one particularly stiff respect, but the ache it would bring to his joints wasn’t worth it. He cranked the water as hot as the old pipes could go, then stripped and stepped in.

Despite the heat of the water, the tiles of the bench were uncomfortably cold against his skin when he sat down. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, attempting to will away his hard on. Instead of black behind his eyelids all he could picture was you. The arch of your back, the perfect curve of your ass, the soft sighs that passed your lips as you slept. He tried for a moment, only a moment, to banish the sinful thoughts out of his mind. Instead, they began to run wild.

He imagined pinning you down, how his hands would look holding your waist, how you would look up at him over your shoulder. He could see the way his clothes you were wearing would move out of his way. T-shirt pushed all the way up under your arms, tits pressed bare against the blanket below you. Borrowed boxers bunched around your knees to give him access to all of you. Skin flushed as you arched your back just a little more, showing off your perfect ass and just a little of your cunt, already wet for him.

In the real world, Viktor scrambled for a bottle of soap and poured what was probably an excessive amount into his palm. He returned to you in his mind, wrapping his hand around himself as in his mind he pushed into your imaginary cunt. He suppressed a groan as he pictured fucking into you, the gasps that would hitch in your throat every time he bottomed out, the feeling of his severe hip bones pressed against the plush of your ass. The retreat just as good, your body clenching around him, involuntarily doing what it could to keep him inside. The image of his cock soaked in you instead of a handful of mint and cedar body wash. In his mind, he pushed in again, hands firmly on the back of your waist, holding you still as he buried into you over and over again. He imagined the sounds that would slip past your lips, panting and moaning and begging for him to fuck you harder.

He tipped his head back against the cold tile, breath coming heavier as the tension in his body grew tighter. He chased away the voice in the back of his head telling him how much nicer it would feel to actually be inside you. Of course he knew it would feel better… warmer, wetter, softer. Fucking you like this, fucking you right, would be the highlight of his goddamned life, but you were his friend. The two of you were just friends. And friends can either fuck or share a bed. One or the other, not both. And right now you were asleep and hungover, warming his sheets and he was here. Fucking himself like his life depended on it, wondering if he could get you to squirt, if you would let him come inside of you, if you’d beg for a second round or settle on him eating you out while he recovered.

In his mind he came inside you, his chest pressed to your back as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, soothing the skin with his tongue a beat after. Your walls clenching around him as you came with him, mouth full of his name and body full of him. In reality he came on himself, thick ropes of cum painting his abdomen as he worked himself through it. Chin dropped to his chest, jaw hanging open as his orgasm wracked across his muscles. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, he let himself picture the remnants of you as it faded away.

When he was finally able to blink open his eyes and inhale a real breath, he cringed down at himself. He cursed, pushing off of the bench and moving to stand under the water, steam washing away the evidence of his perversion. Several forms of guilt wrapped around his throat. He closed his eyes, tilting his face towards the showerhead, letting it run over his face as he told himself that what he did wasn’t wrong. That this was normal and healthy and he had no reason to make himself sick over it. Jayce had once drunkenly mentioned that he had done the same thing before he officially started dating Mel, getting off to the idea of her because nothing else would do. He even let slip that Mel had admitted to doing it as well. Viktor wondered if you did. It made him feel better, to think about you with your hand between your thighs picturing him. Made whatever damage he could be doing not so damaging. He made a deal with himself to ask you sometime after the semester ended, if he even got that far.

You had shifted while he was in the shower, curled up on your side with the blankets tugged up to your chin. He resisted the urge to climb back into bed with you. He had no reason to, he was up, he was showered, there was nothing for him to play it off with. Instead he left a note for you - printed handwriting instead of the usual script - and reluctantly dragged himself to the door.

It wasn’t exactly the break of dawn, but it was certainly early enough that Viktor was surprised to see anyone else awake. But really, he could only be so surprised to see Miss Mel Medarda wide awake and properly made up. Even in a plain t-shirt and jeans she looked like the picture of sophistication. Clothes fitting her just right, hair perfect, posture straight as she sipped at a cup of coffee and scrolled on her phone, looking completely out of place amongst the party wreckage. She was one of the most lovely and terrifying women Viktor ever had the pleasure of meeting.

“Good morning Viktor,” She spoke without turning to look at him, voice telling him that she was going to be more terrifying than lovely today.

“Morning Mel,” Viktor said carefully, stepping around a bag of cans as he reached the kitchen, “How did you sleep?”

“Good, considering I was sharing a bed with the clingiest six-four drunk man on the planet,” She shrugged, playfully rolling her eyes, “How did you fare with your own bedfellow?”

Her tone made him flinch, drips of coffee sliding down the side of his mug as he missed the lip, “Fine, I barely even noticed she was there,”

That was a lie.

“Oh really?” Mel quirked her head to the side, frowning at him, “In my experience, she tends to be a lot like Jayce, very clingy when she drinks. I’m shocked she gave you your space.”

“Well, it seems she must have been in a different mood last night, no?” He said casually as if he hadn’t spent at least an hour last night tasting exactly how clingy you could be.

“Hm, must have,” She said with a smile that threw a thousand accusations.

-----

That was a week ago, and slowly the memory faded away like your perfume from his sheets. Neither of you talked about it much. He wasn’t sure exactly how much you remembered. You had asked for reassurance that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing (“Of course not, milá.”) and apologized for needing to be taken care of ("it's not a problem, milá.”) and that was about it. No discussion aside from that. Luckily, he was sure Jayce didn’t have a single memory from that night and it seemed like Mel didn’t mention anything to remind him. Viktor could feel Mel’s attention throughout the week though. Every interaction he had with you felt like it was being scrutinized.

At first he tried to create distance. Sitting an inch further away, seeking out someone else for help first, responding to your texts fifteen minutes after receiving them, instead of two. That lasted about a day and a half. Monday after class you had asked if he wanted to study together. He had tried to come up with an excuse for why the two of you should study separately. He claimed that together you would get too distracted, immediately taking his words back and giving in when you pouted about it.

So you studied together. He insisted on sitting at the dining table instead of in his room. Semi-public, very unsuspicious. He even tried to sit on the other side of the table, retrieving his own text book instead of sharing one like normal. You weren't having it. Word and thoughtlessly you closed your own book, stood, sat in the chair next to him, and leaned in to look at his book. By the end of the night you were practically in his lap and Mel was staring him down from the kitchen.

Today had been the first day all week he hadn’t seen you yet. Thursdays you didn’t share a class, but usually had coffee together before you needed to run to Oceanic EnviSci at ten and him to Calculus at ten thirty. Today, though, you had an advising meeting that took up that time slot. So he woke up too early, drank coffee leftover in the pot from Jayce, and lingered awkwardly in his own home before he had to leave for class.

It wasn’t until much later in the day that he even realized that he hadn’t seen you. It felt like the day hadn’t even started yet in your absence.

Unfortunately for him, as a transfer student, even a third year one, Viktor was given the last pick of classes. That’s how he ended up in intro to Mycology. Did he have an interest in the study of fungi? Absolutely not. Did the course count as an elective towards his degree plan? Yes it did. Thus resulting in him pouring fifteen agar plates in preparation for his upcoming final project. The agar plates themselves were redundant and tedious. In any other class, students would use the stacks of premade and presterilized ones. The professor insisted they be done by hand to ensure an understanding of the process and were due on Monday. It wasn’t until then that he realized that he hadn’t seen you.

As he stood in the lab, heating chemicals in a microwave oven, he found himself more and more distracted. Thoughts of you seeped into the spaces between everything else. He leaned his chin on his palm, thinking of the way you kissed him and watching the agar spin. He nearly ruined the chemicals more than once as his mind drifted. He was used to thinking about you. He enjoyed thinking about you. But today was different, stronger, more frustrating than normal. His skin felt too tight, the whir of the lab vents felt too loud, his hands felt too shaky. Everything was off, and it was your fault.

He was having withdrawals. An embarrassing thing to come to terms with. The fact that he had become so used to your presence, that going without it for a day felt like torture. And no matter how many times he told himself to get a grip, it just wouldn’t happen. He’d catch phantom drifts of your perfume, an impossibility in the sterile lab. Or he’d hear your laugh for a moment out in the hall, despite knowing you were in a class two buildings over. Viktor was sure his lack of sleep the prior night might also have had something to do with his state.

He did his best to refocus. Slowly pouring hot agar and fighting his shaky hands. He had just regained some sense of control when the first interruption occurred. Heimerdinger peaked his head into the lab, face brightening when he spotted Viktor.

“Viktor!” He called as he strode into the room, carrying his usual upbeat energy, “How are you, my boy?”

“Afternoon, professor,” Viktor nodded, carefully pouring another bottle of hot agar into a plate, “I’m well, and you?”

“Good to hear,” He stopped somewhere a little too close to Viktor’s fragile comfort zone, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Ah, well you have found me,” Viktor said, half absent as he focused on pouring the liquid into petri dishes, “Is there something I can help you with?:”

“Well, I just wanted to approach and see how you were finding Piltover thus far,” Heimerdinger was a kind man, it would be unsurprising for him to truly just check up on a student, especially one like Viktor who transferred from such a distance. But today's question was leading.

“Honestly, I’ve found myself enjoying it here a little more than I originally anticipated,” he admitted. He enjoyed the University of Piltover for all it had to offer, but he was sure he’d enjoy any place as long as it offered you.

“That's wonderful to hear,” He beamed from under his mustache, “So it’s safe to say you’ll be finishing out your degree here with us next academic year?”

“Yes, I was planning on it,” Viktor told him, letting out a confused laugh, “Unless I’m being kicked out?”

“Viktor, if there was a way to keep a mind like yours here at Piltover forever,” He sighed, “We would.”

“That’s very kind of you professor,” Viktor cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly at the attention.

“It’s true, but I didn’t just come here to flatter you, my boy,” Heimerdinger reached into his bag, pulling out a crisp University of Piltover branded folder. He held it out toward Viktor, “I was hoping, if you were interested in such a position, that you would be my main lab and teaching assistant during next school year?”

Viktor blinked down at the surprise offering. He knew he was a good student, a good scientist. He worked well with Heimerdinger in class, still this was a bit of a shock. An opportunity. The first real opportunity.

“I know it’s quite early to be making this kind of offer,” Heimerdinger admitted, “but, you’re a very sought after young man, Mr. Sykora. I would be amiss to wait around thinking no other professors would approach you with the same offer.”

“I… Thank you professor,” Viktor shook himself out of his thoughts, struggling for words, “Thank you for this.”

“No need to thank me,” He said, holding the folder a little closer, “You’ve earned this. I don’t expect you to accept the role immediately, take some time to look over the offer and get back to me when you’ve made a decision.”

“Yes, of course,” He took the folder from Heimerdinger, holding back the urge to tell him yes immediately. Desperation was not a good look in the science world, “Thank you professor. I truly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” He stepped away, “Have a good rest of your afternoon, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“You as well, professor,” He nodded, hands twitching as he waited for Heimerdinger to leave the room.

As soon as the old scientist was out of the room Viktor yanked open the folder, reading through the offer letter and skimming the rest of the contents. There was no doubt in his mind he would accept. He’d wait until Monday to do it officially and spend the weekend drafting an email. He’d have to adjust his planned schedule slightly, but he was sure it would be worth it. Being Heimerdinger’s student opened plenty of doors, but working with him? That could open every damn door and window in the world.

He was reading through a page with information about how his student Visa affected his ability to work on campus when a sharp pop shocked him out of the reading. He jerked back, head whipping around to the still spinning microwave and the bottle of agar that had just exploded inside it.

“Kurva,” He hissed, stopping the microwave and yanking open the door. Without thinking he reached in for the bottle, fingertips stinging as soon as they came in contact with the glass. In his hands retreat from the heat, he smacked his knuckles against the side of the door, “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”

He squeezed his hand with the other, suppressing panic as he watched the glass bottle tip and spill melted agar onto the table, “Jesus fucking Christ,” He shook his head, taking a limping step backwards and trying to recenter himself.

“Viktor! Are you okay?” He looked up to see Sky standing in the doorway, wide eyed as she looked between the mess on the table and Viktor’s hand cradled to his chest.

“Ah, Sky, sorry, yes I’m fine,” He tried to brush her off, “Just go distracted, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She walked over to him, reaching out for his hand, “Let me see.”

Viktor flinched away, “I’m fine, Sky.”

She frowned up at him, huffing, “You just grabbed a hundred and seventy five degree glass bottle. You are not fine.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, then looked down at the pink burns on the pads of his fingers. He let out a reluctant sigh and held his hand out for Sky. Her hands were warm where they touched the back of his pale hand, gingerly pulling his finger open to look at the damage.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant to… just everything.” Sky said, turning on the sink at the lab station, holding her hand under the tap as she adjusted the temperature.

“What are you talking about?” Viktor flinched back, narrowing his eyes down at Sky, “I am not resistant to things.”

“Sure you aren't.” Sky scoffed, guiding his hand under the cool water.

“Name one other instance of me being resistant,” He rolled his eyes around the word resistant.

“Fine, how about the very weird situationship you’re currently in,” She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, “Why are you resistant to being in a relationship with her?”

“You think I’m the resistant one?” He dropped his jaw, gaping at Sky.

“Are you telling me you aren’t?” She countered.

“Of course, I’m not!”

“How come you refuse to talk about her then?”

“Well, excuse me for not wanting to talk about my relationship status with everyone I know,” Viktor snapped.

“Have you talked about it with anyone?” She asked, mouth in a flat line as she waited for an answer, “Have you even talked to Jayce about her?”

Viktor opened his mouth to speak. Face tightened in irritation before, sighing and looking away from Sky.

“That’s what I thought.” She stopped the tap, purposefully laying the back of Viktor's hand down on the table. She walked away to get the first aid kit.

He frowned after her. Defensive words that he knew would fall flat swirling around his mind. He tried to push it to the side. Sky didn’t know what she was talking about. She only knew what Lest told her. And Lest only knew what you told her. He started to worry about exactly how much that might be. It didn’t really matter. You could talk about whatever was going on with whoever you wanted. He wasn't going to stop you. But the idea of not knowing who knows what about him made him unreasonably nervous.

Sky returned, a small packet of burn cream from the first aid kit in her hand. Wordlessly she opened it and began to dab the medicine where his skin was red. He stared at her downturned head, wishing he could see into her brain. Wanting to know everything without asking.

“Has…she?” He asked slowly, trying to sound casual.

“Has she what?” Sky asked, absent as she focused on his hand.

“Has she talked about… it,” Us felt like the wrong thing to say in the moment.

“Well, not really,” Sky said, grabbing a paper towel and cleaning up the edges of the burn cream.

“Oh.” He didn’t know how to feel about that. He didn’t even know what he had been expecting. He hoped he didn’t sound disappointed.

“I mean, like, she doesn’t talk about your relationship,” Viktor opened his mouth to correct her, but she already put her hand up, cutting him off and rolling her eyes, “Your friend relationship. She talks about you, though. All the time,” Then in a half mocking version of your voice she said, “Viktor and I did this! Viktor told me that! Me and Viktor. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, blah blah blah.”

He felt heat creep up his neck. Childishly proud that he seemed to be on your mind as much as you were on his. He nodded, humming in acknowledgment. She glanced back up at him, eyebrow raised before sighing and shaking her head. Whatever thought she had deemed not necessary to say. She left for another moment, coming back with a nitrile glove, handing it over to him.

“Put this on if you’re going to keep working in here,” She told him as she swept the trash into her hand.

“Thank you,” He said, pulling the glove on, then gave a short laugh, “Sorry for being resistant.”

“You’re welcome,” She said, picking her bag up from the floor, “I actually was just swinging by to ask if you were going to the game tonight.”

“Jayce’s game?” It was the first of the season, but Viktor wasn't even sure it counted as anything more than a scrimmage “Isn’t it away?”

“Yeah, but only like an hour and a half,” Sky shrugged, "We usually only go to closer away games, but It’s the first one of the year. We’re leaving at five, games at seven.”

“Eh, probably not,” Viktor gestured to the mess on the table, “I need to finish this and clean everything up. Thank you for the invite, though.”

“Yeah, totally,” She retreated towards the door, “We’re meeting in the Red Lot at four if you change your mind.”

“Thanks,” He appreciated the offer, but really had more important things to do, as much as he wanted to support Jayce, “Have fun.”

She gave a wave and was off down the hall. Viktor turned to the mess of a blacktop table. The agar had gelled inside the microwave and on the table, the bottle also a sticky mess. He sighed and began the process of cleaning up and restarting. He was supposed to take notes on all of his attempts to pour the plates. He wondered if he’d get caught if he left out this particular attempt. Luckily his laptop and lab book were spared the wet agar stains, as well as the offer folder from Heimerdinger. How ironic that the brilliant man had just been here praising Viktor’s skill, only for him to make a complete mess minutes after. He scoffed, slipping his things into his backpack and out of the way.

He had just managed to scrape the gelled chemicals out of the back of the microwave when his phone buzzed against the countertop. His heart twitched when he saw it was a message from you.

What r u up to?

He was struck by an odd surge of panic. Typing and retyping what should have been a simple message over and over again. Worried about how any words he typed would sound to you he landed on:

Lab work for class.

He instantly regretted it. It was too short, too blunt. He should have left out the period. He should have elaborated, or just lied. Luckily an answer from you came almost instantly, ebbing his anxiety.

Nice, you feel like taking a break? Do you wanna come to the game with me?

*us

Viktor cursed to himself. Of course he wanted to go to the game with you. He’d go to the bottom of the fucking ocean for you. He could already picture the look on Sky’s face when he showed up, her invite turned down only for yours to be accepted half an hour later. He sighed and looked over the table, everything set up to restart his plates. Half were done, and if he did them right the rest shouldn’t take longer than an hour or two to finish. There was no way he’d get it done before four, but it wouldn’t be impossible to get it done after. He chewed on the edge of his nail, foot tapping against the ground as he debated with himself. In the end a debate he lost.

Ya, I’m down to go

Rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes, he groaned at his lack of restraint. Before waiting for a response he began to clean up the lab, stowing away glassware and closing up chemicals. He was knelt down on the floor, trying to get flasks to stack correctly under the sink, when an enthusiastic ‘Hello’ came from behind him.

He stood too quickly, smacking the back of his head against the underside of the table. He cursed, hand flying to the back of his head as he whipped around to the door. Maddie was standing in the doorway decked in her “U of P Ambassador” gear, a gaggle of teenagers and their parents behind her.

“Hey there, Viktor,” She said, biting back a laugh, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hello Maddie,” He returned, standing and doing his best to be pleasant in front of the prospective students, “Can I help you with something?”

“This group had a particular interest in Pitlover’s incredible science department,” She said, turning to gesture to the awkward group of kids. Viktor resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her dumb ponytail, “I was going to let them have a peek at the lab, but since you’re here, would you mind answering a few questions?”

‘Fuck you Maddie,’ Viktor thought, steeling his expression into something mildly pleasant, ‘fuck you.’ He checked his watch, twenty-five till five. It’d take him at least ten to get across campus to the red lot. Being a dick to incoming students was not a good look, though. Maddie knew this, and that's exactly why she asked.

“Yes of course,” Viktor said, settling his cane in front of him, both hands laid on the handle, “Ask away.”

The kids were nervous at first, looking between each other until one of the parents spoke up. Asking him about the connection to the business department. Viktor's stuttering answer at the odd and tone deaf question, at the very least, made some of the highschoolers feel less awkward.

Viktor answered the high schoolers questions as best as he could. He remembered what it was like before starting university; all bright eyed and ready to change the world. He still had hopes for making change, his eyes certainly weren't as bright. He wasn’t going to tell them that, and he was glad no one had told him. He talked up the university’s science department, leaving out the parts where Piltover fell short - funding for certain pursuits tended to be minimal and broken equipment didn’t always get replaced at the speed it should - and gushed about the professors as much as an Eastern European man could gush. All while trying to hide his impatient glances towards his watch. Every time there was a lull where Viktor felt like he could escape Maddie would say something to bring the conversation back up. It was like she could tell he was in a rush and was doing her best to delay him. Eventually he had to decide that there was an end to the Q&A session that Maddie was holding him captive in. It was either politely and awkwardly tell these kids to get fucked or miss out on spending time with you.

…Yeah, these kids could get fucked.

“I’m really sorry,” Viktor said, cringing as he held up his hand to stop the next question, “I’d love to keep talking, but I am running late for something,” He quickly gathered his things as he excused himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Maddie has my email, you are all welcome to reach out with any further questions.”

He squeezed past the group and into the hallway. Awkwardly trying to avoid a pair of starry eyed girls that had asked most of the non-science related questions. What year are you? Will you be here next year? Where is your accent from? Do you have a girlfriend? (3rd. Hopefully. Illinois. No comment.)

He booked it across campus, doing his best to make the ten minute trip in six. Luckily he managed to avoid running into anyone else who’d demand his time.When he reached the red lot Mel’s oversized Escalade was still parked in her reserved spot, pop music audible through the closed windows. He could see you in the front seat, sneakers up on the dash and shrugged into your hoodie as you scrolled on your phone. Mel was in the driver's seat, the vanity mirror flipped down as she touched up her makeup. She spotted Viktor when she flipped it up, eyebrows raising for a second before reaching over and tapping you on the leg.

Your eyes glanced up over the top of your phone, immediately perking up as you sat up in the seat and waved enthusiastically at him from afar. He could practically picture a pair of dog ears flipping forward, tail wagging as he approached you. It made sense why you were such good friends with Jayce.

When he reached the car, you rolled the windows down, music becoming clear and quieting as Mel turned the radio down. You leaned your arms on the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” He said, glancing down at his watch, 5:02.

“Two minutes is nothing,” You laughed, “Sky is still trying to drag Lest out of our dorm.”

“Ah, the standard is low I see,” Viktor laughed, hooking his can over his arm and leaning his palms against the windowsill.

“Very,” You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, you leaned closer, “I’m glad you made it, though. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Viktor swallowed hard, trying to remind himself that the world existed outside of the space between the two of you, “I was going crazy in that lab, and Maddie trapped me. I would've been stuck there all night if I didn’t have a carpool to catch.”

“Maddie? What was she doing?” No one liked Maddie, but the extra bite in your voice made him feel good, “Why was she even in the lab?”

He resisted the urge to call you a pet name in front of Mel, instead just using your name, “Easy, she was giving a tour. Offered me up to highschoolers as a human search engine.”

“I wish they’d let someone else give tours of the science building,” You scoffed, “That bitch couldn’t tell an Erlenmeyer from a Florence.”

“Eh, probably not,” He laughed, even in the cold winter air he felt instantly warmer in your presence. You melted all the ice he tended to carry in his chest, turning him into a puddle waiting for you to walk through. Instead of telling you this, of course, he just asked, “How was your meeting this morning.”

“Could've been an email,” You snorted, waving your hand around, “Like, really, there was no reason to meet at eight in the fucking morning. It’s fine, though, I’m totally not bitter about it.”

“You? Bitter?” Viktor scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, “Never.”

You chattered on about the meeting and your classes from today, catching him up on whatever he had missed. He let you, more than willing to be talked at if you were the one talking. He nodded along, added affirmations when you expected them, all the while admiring the structure of your face, the way your lips formed around syllables, the crease between your eyebrows when you’d scrunch your nose at a thought. He watched you until a quick hand clapped him on the back, breaking his focus on you.

“About time,” Mel called from the driver's seat, looking up from her phone and peeking over your shoulder to look at Lest, “Fifteen minutes late, we should have left you.”

“Hey, first of all, it was only thirteen minutes,” Lest corrected, “And second, despite the fact that I am indeed perfect, looks like this still take time.” She gestured to her outfit, interesting and impractical for the weather, but very much Lest.

“Girl, it’s a D3 basketball game?” You scoffed, “I think jeans and a t-shirt would have sufficed. It’s not even a conference game!”

“Listen,” Lest pouted, “Every outing is an opportunity, okay? You may be fine with looking all plain-Jane, but I prefer to make the most out of public appearances.”

“Public appearance?” You dropped your jaw, “Are you for real? How are we even friends?”

“Because, the Piltover Housing Gods shoved us into a miniature dorm room against our will,” Lest told you, leaning past Viktor to give you wide eyes and a dramatic accent, “And, you love me. You’d be lost without me. And I, without you my darling - despite your lack of fashion sense.”

“Okay, can we put a pin in the poetic waxing?” Sky asked from behind Lest, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m freezing and we’re gonna be late for the game.”

She pulled open the door without waiting for an answer, climbing through until she was set next to the other door. Lest followed suit, hands holding her skirt in place as she scooted over. Viktor followed next, sliding his cane into the space between his knee and the door. You turned to look over the back of the seat, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Are you good back there?” You asked, “We can switch if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I’m okay here,” He assured you, nodding, “Thank you, though.”

“Okay, tell me if you wanna switch later though,” Your voice was low under the bass of the music, only for him as Mel reversed out of the expensive parking spot.

“Will do, milá , thank you.” He said quietly to you. You both hesitated for a moment, still stuck in the space where it was just the two of you. You opened your mouth to speak again, deciding against whatever it was and just smiling at him instead before retreating back to your seat.

Viktor quickly realized that he had never been the only man in the group until now. Usually Jayce was present when they all spent time together, or Ekko sometimes even. For the next hour and a half he was trapped in a speeding Cadillac with a group of girls who had known each other for three whole years. It was like watching a nature documentary. Within the group, in this setting, rolls were assigned. Mel drove, you navigated and warned Mel of speed traps, Lest was in charge of queueing music, taking suggestions as she went, and Sky checked in periodically with everyone, offering ibuprofen and Dramamine and gum to the rest of the group. Viktor got the feeling this was normally how it was, he was grateful to be a guest amongst the four of you.

He was pleased that his presence didn’t seem to have an effect on how any of you acted either. Jokes weren’t held back, stories and anecdotes that he wasn’t sure he’d hear had the other boys been here. Lest had said that he had joined a girls trip, therefore making him “one of the girls”. Maybe Jayce was in on it just as much as he was right now. Perhaps it was the 4 to 1 ratio that let you all be comfortable enough to act freely. Whatever it was, he was grateful for it. The opportunity to see you laugh and sing and be happy was something he’d never turn down. The image of you dramatically backing up Mel in a rap song would stay in his head the rest of his life. The feeling of looking at each other knowingly when Sky and Lest both darted for the restroom when Mel had stopped for gas made him feel closer to you. He liked being in on something with you. He watched you jokingly mouth ‘gay’ and jabbing a finger at them as you followed them into the convenience store. You returned alone, holding something behind your back.

“Who’s your favorite American?” You had asked, smirking up at him, swaying side to side playfully.

“Hm, Bernie Sanders?” He had joked, making you gasp.

“Try again.” You narrowed your eyes at him, biting back a smile.

“Apologies, I thought you said politician,” He said, trying not to laugh, “You are my favorite American, of course, who else?”

“That’s what I thought,” You huffed a self satisfied little noise, chin lifting, “Your reward, sir.” Dramatically you had presented him with a flavored Red Bull.

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” He returned your tone, accepting the offer.

“Of course,” Dramatic again, then dropped the flourish, “They had regular, but I thought we could try the new one. Hopefully it’s not horrible.”

It was fine. You both agreed that you’d probably never buy it again, but it wasn’t an entire waste of six dollars. It gave you twice as much energy as you had to begin with, and it gave him enough energy to keep up with you. You convinced him to add more of his music in Czech to the queue. He pulled stuff from his high school years, half stuff he only listened to in order to piss off his mother, half music he actually enjoyed. He was pleased that the four of you seemed to eat it up, and proud that some of the songs were even added to Lest's playlist titled “Girl Gang”. He wondered if that was something worth bragging about to Jayce.

He completely forgot about the stress of the lab he had been working on and didn’t even think about having to finish it when all of this was over. For now, he was content in being welcomed into a space that had always seemed unknown to him. He had never been part of a “group”. He had friends in school, individuals he’d spend time with. It never felt like this. It had never felt like family like this. He was grateful Jayce had brought him into this world, into your world.

He knew that meant pushing past what he was used to, talking about things he normally wouldn’t. That was clear the first time you rolled down the window at a red light and whistled at a group of guys on motorbikes. Mel laughed about mask kinks as she drove away. You and Sky had claimed that it was Star War’s fault for making masks sexy. Lest said superheroes were the reason, Mel insisted it was Zorro. Viktor held his opinion that Ghostface is the sexiest masked character. He was surprised at how openly a group of girls talked about sex. He assumed it wasn’t a topic that was shared often, he rarely even spoke to anyone but Jayce about sex. And even then he tended to be vague on details. He wasn’t sure if that was a gender thing, a catholic thing, or just a him thing. Whatever it was, he’d have to get over it.

A conversation about the ethics of attractive horror movie villains (where Viktor still kept his Ghostface opinion quiet) had just died down, when you barked a laugh from the front seat, drawing the attention of the rest of the car.

“Shackled by lust?” You asked dramatically, reading from a church sponsored billboard.

“God I wish,” Lest returned, holding her wrists together in front of her.

“Jesus sets free,” Mel read off the other half of the billboard, “Huh, I wonder what his safe word is.”

“Oh my god,” Sky cringed, covering her eyes.

“You think he’s saying his dads name?” You asked, turning around and raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, that’s not-” Sky tried, fumbling for words, “Never mind, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Hm, maybe he uses the traffic light system,” Viktor added casually, snorting a laugh, “Would Jesus know what a traffic light is? I suppose if he knows about the concept of handcuffs, he must also know about traffic lights, no?”

“Ha, maybe!” You barked a laugh, “Or, maybe it’s like a heaven slash hell system?”

“How would that even work?” Sky asked you, tilting her head.

“Wait, you know what the stoplight system is?” Lest asked, turning to Viktor, “Are you secretly kinky underneath those sweaters and lab coats?”

“Lest,” Mel warned, looking in the rearview mirror at her.

“What?” Lest gasped, holding her hands up in defense, “If he’s gonna hang with the girls, he’s gonna be part of the girl talk.”

“Here we go,” You laughed, craning your neck to look at him in the seat behind you, “Sorry for whatever is about to happen, I should have warned you.”

The look on your face showed you clearly were not very sorry.

“It’s alright. I’m certainly not as prudish as Lest here thinks me to be,” He said, shrugging, “Besides, the stoplight system is incredibly basic, anyone with access to the internet and a body should know it.”

“Can of worms, Viktor,” Mel said, shaking her head, “Can of worms.”

“Okay, well, what are you into, then?” Lest asked, looking at him expectantly, “What gets you going?”

“And you need to know why?” Viktor scoffed at her, leaning closer to the window.

“Because! Friends tell each other that stuff, it’s fun Viktor,” Lest insisted, “Don’t you know how to have fun?”

“Yes, I tell my friends who are…” He thought for a second, thinking about the over dramatic misogynist accusation he’d surely get if he said ‘men’, “I'll tell some friends, but not everyone.”

“Because we’re girls.” Lest said, narrowing her eyes at him, catching on immediately and making Viktor cringe.

“That’s not what I-” Viktor tried to defend himself, Lest cut him off.

“Here, I’ll tell you ours first!” Lest said, then gestured to herself, “Sometimes I wear cat ears and a collar with a bell during sex, I think it’s cute.”

“I really don’t need to kno-” Viktor tried, eyebrows furrowed as he waved his hand in front of him. Lest cut him off again.

“Viktor, I’m sharing, don't be rude,” Lest scolded, clearly finding heaps of amusement in teasing him, “I also love choking. Sky’s into overstimulation and is incredibly good at sexting. We have proof in the group chat, but we’ll keep that to ourselves.”

“Lest!” Sky gasped, staring wide eyed at her.

“Oh come one, you’re so proud of your sexting. You’ve even told Jayce about it,” Lest pointed out, confirming Viktor’s suspicion that Jayce had been in his position before.

“And Mel is into bondage! She’s, like, incredible at all that rope stuff!” Lest said, patting her hand on Mel’s shoulder, “I let her tie me up all crazy at a party once, it was fun.”

“It’s called shibari,” Mel corrected, glancing up in the mirror, “Do not tell Jayce you know about that.”

“And she’s into, like, fairly public sex,” Lest said, gesturing to where you were watching, clearly not expecting Lest to loop you into this, “And marking, like hickeys and bite marks on herself and whoever she’s hooking up with.”

You yelped, sliding down in your seat and covering your face. He couldn’t see, but he was sure you were scarlet red right now. You’re muffled voice came from under your arms, “Not cool, Lest, not fucking cool.”

“Oh, come on!” She laughed, “When did you get all prudish? You used to let people sign the inside of your thighs and would point out all the people with your teeth marks under their clothes.”

“Lest, look for a new roommate, because I’m killing myself.” You tried to sound sarcastic, but he could hear the shake beneath your voice.

“So dramatic,” Lest rolled her eyes, “I'm sorry, I did what needed to be done. Now Viktor has to tell us. He’s all caught up.”

Viktor sighed, backed into an awkward corner. He wasn’t shocked at what Lest had said about you. Both times you’d fucked him at been at least somewhat public and he had walked around with the evidence on his skin for at least a week after. The signing was new, but fairly tame in his eyes. Still, he understood why you wouldn’t want Lest telling him.

He groaned, finally giving in to what Lest wanted. Hoping that if he spilled his guts, you’d feel better about your own secrets being told.

“Fine, I like when someone wears heels and lingerie,” He admitted, a rather tame preference, it could barely even be called a kink, before she could call him out on it he continued, “And I like when someone begs me to tell them what to do. I like when they aren't afraid to let me tell them what to do.”

A tense silence falling across the car as whatever song had been playing faded out. Lest blinked at him owlishly, gears turning in her brain for a moment before she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh my god, you are so boring.” Lest complained, squinting at him. “A lingerie kink and a power kink? Really, that’s all? And I thought you were different. Apparently you are like every man on the planet.”

“No way I’m being kink shamed by the bitch that wears fucking cat ears when she gets fucked,” Viktor scoffed, literally tugging at his own hair,

“It’s not kink shaming!” Lest shouted back, “It’s kink humbling.”

“Fuck you, Lest!”

“Hey, children, calm down,” Mel scolded, glaring quickly over her shoulder. She turned the music down, “You two are going to make me crash this damn car if you don’t shut up.”

“Sorry mom,” Lest rolled her eyes, then turned to Viktor, pointing at him and mouthing, ‘boring’

“Take a left at this next light,” You spoke up, voice rough and weak as you directed Mel.

Lest’s eyes went wide at the realization that you had been crying, Viktor turned on her glaring daggers at her perfect face. Her eyebrows knit together, regret instantly crossing her features as she shook her head, mouth open.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lest asked, leaning forward and reaching out for your elbow where it rested in the center console.

You flinched away, pulling your arm out of her reach, “I’m fine. Mel, turn right at the stop sign into the lot.”

Lest spoke your name, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“I said I’m fine!” You snapped, turning to look at her over your shoulder, “Just fucking drop it okay?”

An awkward silence fell over the car as Mel searched for a parking spot. Viktor panicked, staring at the back of your shoulder, unsure what to do. He wanted to reach out, to check on you, but he didn’t think that would go over well. He could feel Lest’s anxiety next to him as she probably felt the same thing.

“I used to make guys dress up like my 10th grade history teacher,” Sky said, breaking the silence as Mel turned the car off, “Like, if that makes anyone feel better.”

You snorted an involuntary laugh, trying to fight it. Eventually a solid laugh slipped out, then another, until you dissolved into a fit of giggles that spread around the car. The five of you laughed harder than you had the whole car ride.

“I’m sorry Sky,” Mel said, gasping as she tried to compose herself, wiping a tear from her eye, “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, I know!” Sky giggled, “I made them wear glasses and a cardigan. I only stopped when I ran into him during spring break last year. He was still wearing the cardigan but he had not aged well…”

“Sky, I love you, truly the bravest woman in the world. Waterboarding wouldn't even get me to admit that,” Mel said, cracking open her door and letting in a gold gush of wind, “Now let’s go, we’re gonna miss tip-off.”

Outside, Viktor stretched his hands over his head, muscles stiff from the drive. You narrowed your eyes at him, tugging the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against his skin.

“What’s this?” You asked, pinching the hem of his shirt, fingers glancing against his skin he tried not to flinch at the feathery contact.

“What?” He asked, voice strained as he stretch,

“You’re wearing blue,” You scoffed, gesturing to your own maroon hoodie, “You can’t wear blue. The other team is blue.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on being very school spirited today,” He shrugged, steading his cane on the ground.

“You should always be ready to be school spirited,” You told him, jabbing a finger at his chest.

“That so?” He tilted his head down at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep, luckily for you,” You drawled, grabbing the hem of your hoodie and wiggling out of it, laughing as you freed yourself. Underneath you were wearing a University of Piltover t-shirt, the same color as the hoodie, “I was double ready.”

You held the hoodie out to him, he took it gingerly, “You want me to wear your hoodie?”

“What? Worried it won’t fit?” You scoffed, “This isn’t a dig, it’s just the truth. Your beanpole ass could fit in my hoodie from middle school.”

“First of all, rude,” He said, blinking at you, “Second, I was going to ask won't you be cold without your hoodie?”

“Well, I would be,” You shrugged, then stepped closer, hands coming up to grab at the collar of his own jacket, “if you didn’t trade me for this.”

“I should've known,” Viktor scoffed, rolling his eyes but shrugging it off anyways, “Always after my jacket.”

“Hey, It’s a good jacket!” You defended, looking at him innocently as you pulled it on, “You don’t have to let me wear it.”

He knew that wasn’t an option. Besides, he wanted you to wear his jacket. He’d give you all of his clothes if you asked. He also knew that you’d be bored if he gave in too easily.

“You’re right,” He nodded, then held your own hoodie back out to you.

You gasped, looking down at the returned item of clothing like he was trying to give you a dead animal. You glanced back up at him, eyebrows pulled together, eyes scanning his face. His false seriousness broke, “I’m kidding, milá,” He laughed softly, face splitting into a smile as he gave in and tugged the hoodie on, “Thank you for the school spirit.”

It fit him, like you said it would, and was still warm from the car ride. Your smell all over it. He resisted the urge to press his nose to the collar in front of you.

“You’re welcome,” You said pointedly, shoving your hands into the pockets of his stolen jacket, you nodded towards the others already ahead of you “Let’s go.”

You caught up with the others, walking close to his side as you weaved through the crowd at the front door. You trailed behind Mel, letting her lead the way into the gym. It was clearly the B gym. Outdated fixtures and rocky wooden bleachers. The scoreboard worked, counting down the warm-ups in big red numbers.

Viktor traversed the bleachers with as much grace as he could. Grateful when Sky asked to sit at the first open seats. They had to split up, Viktor sitting with you one bench below where Mel, Lest, and Sky were sitting.

“Oh, there he is!” Mel gasped, pointing down to the court. They all followed her outstretched arm, spotting Jayce at the end. He stood on the court, decked out in his maroon and grey warm-up gear, waiting in line for his turn to practice a lay-up. Mel waved her hand towards him, unashamedly shouting down to the court, “Jayce!”

It only took Mel calling out to him once before he looked up, her voice reaching him even over the din of the gym. His face lit up when he spotted the group. He waved up at you, scrambled to catch the ball when he realized it was his turn.

“Is he starting?” Viktor asked, looking over his shoulder at Mel.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to.” She said, with a nervous excitement in her voice, “This is his first time starting.”

“He’s gonna do great, Mel,” You assured her, reaching back and squeezing her bouncing knee, “He’s had tons of playing time before this.”

“I know,” She sighed, “he just gets so in his head.”

“He always does, then he blows everyone away anyways,” Sky jumped in, voice comforting.

Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor could see Lest lean forward, mouth close to your ear. He saw you pick at the edge of your nails, dangerously close to drawing blood from the torn cuticle. Without saying anything or looking your way he pulled your hand over, lacing his fingers with yours and hiding it between your joined bodies. The gym was crowded enough to not raise suspicion by strung so close together. You relaxed, squeezing his hand as you and Lest conversed quietly.

“I’m sorry,” was all he caught from Lest. Good. She should be apologizing.

“It’s okay,” He heard you whisper back, “Just don’t do it again, yeah?”

“Never,” She assured you, wrapping her arms around your neck, cheek pressed to yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You said, bumping your temple against hers.

Viktor loosened his grip on your hand, letting you pull away if you wanted. You held on a second longer, squeezing tightly and bumping your knee against his before releasing.

The buzzer went off, making the five of you straighten up, attention turned to the court. You watched the men’s team hustle to the bench, stripping off warm up gear and hyping themselves up. Pitlover’s starting lineup ran out onto the court as they were announced. Your group cheered for all of them, but loudest when Jayce was called. He waved up to you all, any nerves he held hidden well.

“He’s jumping?” Lest gasped as Jayce stood in the center of the court, shaking the opposing team members hand across from him. He executed a perfect tip off, getting the ball to his teammates easily. Mel cheered for her boyfriend, making it clear to anyone close by that he was hers.

As the game settled into a rhythm, Viktor could feel you practically buzzing beside him. Excitement radiating off your skin as you watched, elbows on your knees and hands clasped as you leaned forward, eyes following the ball.

“I didn’t know you liked basketball so much,” Viktor commented, bumping your knee with his to get your attention.

“I actually don’t know much about it,” You admitted, “I’ve gathered enough to follow what's happening during a game from watching Jayce play, but I don’t know the technical details.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow at you, “I would have assumed you had played the way you’re watching.”

You laughed, shaking your head and sitting up to talk to him, “I like competition. I don’t really care about the sport itself, I just care that my school is playing.”

“Ah, I see,” Viktor was competitive himself, he had to be to get where he was now, but allegiance wasn’t something he necessarily felt.

“Besides, I ran track in high school,” You shrugged, “Ball sports weren't really my thing.”

“I didn’t know that,” Viktor tilted his head. You had never mentioned playing organized sports before, “How long did you do that for?”

“Eight and a half years,” You said, a sadness hidden beneath your voice. You shrugged, “I don’t really talk about it.”

That was probably your way of telling him you didn’t want to talk about it, even with him. Curiosity and the urge to hear you talk about yourself got the better of him, “That’s a long time to do something. Why’d you stop?”

“Injury,” Was all you said, turning back to the game and taking a heavy breath through your nose.

He felt a hit against his back. He turned his head to catch Lest, Sky, and Mel all looking down at him like he was crazy. Lest gestured to you and mouthed ‘Shut Up’ at him. He flinched, realizing this was apparently not the thing to push you on. He cringed, thinking of a way to backtrack and change the topic.

“You know, less than ten percent of high school students go on to compete in that same sport in college,” Viktor said, remembering the statistic he had seen off-handedly while searching for something else. He wasn’t sure why he thought this was the right thing to say, because - based on the way Mel kneed him in the shoulder again - it was clearly not.

“Oh my god,” Lest huffed, hiding her face in her hands.

You huffed a small laugh, turning to him, “Did you see it might snow tonight?”

He blinked at you, watching your eyes and taking a moment to realize you were saving him. You blinked back, waiting for a response.

“I didn’t,” He said slowly, then, “Do you like snow?”

“I love snow.” You said, an expectant smile gracing your lips.

‘You perfect, gorgeous, patient girl,’ Viktor thought, he wanted to kiss you. To thank you for pulling him out of the hole he dug himself. Instead he just said, “I hope it snows.”

“I hope it sticks,” You said, excitement creeping into your voice, “I hope class gets canceled.”

“Ugh, me too!” Sky said from behind you, “I have a huge test tomorrow.”

“Who’s religious here?” Lest gasped, grabbing you by the shoulder, “Pray for us.”

You grabbed him by the arm, looking at him with wide eyes and fighting back a smile, “Your time to shine, Catholic Boy.”

Viktor barked a laugh, then held his palms together in front of himself, “Dear God, please let it snow so much that we can get high and build and igloo instead of going to class. In the name of the father, the spirit-”

“Wait! Ask for Piltover to win the game, too.” You cut in, a hand on his shoulder.

“Dear God, please let it snow so much that we can get high and build an igloo instead of going to class and please let Piltover win this game so that there's a rager tomorrow night. In the name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit, Amen.”

“Amen.” The four girls echoed, bursting into laughter a second after.

You leaned into him, trying to stifle your laughter in your hand. He put his hand over your head, trying not to laugh himself as he cradled you. Catching irritated looks from the opposing teams fans. He tried not to react when he caught the look Mel was giving him.

Sky shushed you all, glancing around at the rest of the crowd, her giggles dying out as she tried to refocus the group. For the second time that day laughter dispelled the uncomfortable energy.

-----

After the game, Mel stayed inside to wait for Jayce and the rest of the group wandered outside to find that it in fact had started snowing. You and Lest bounced around, excited gasps and giggles as you tried to catch snow on your tongue.

“Snow day. Snow Day. Snow Day!” Sky was chanting, voice hopeful as she looked up at the flurries.

You bounded up to him, beaming, “It’s not sticking yet, but it has potential!” Snowflakes landed in your hair and eyelashes, perfect structures melting into you. He could watch you like this forever.

“Hopefully after we make it home,” He pointed out, absentmindedly reaching up and zipping the borrowed jacket up to your chin.

“True,” You nodded, lifting your chin and letting him zip you up, “Don’t want to be stuck in enemy territory.”

“Enemy territory?” Viktor scoffed at you, tapping the bottom of your chin with his fingertips, “So dramatic.”

You shrugged, and offered, “I could be more dramatic if you want?”

“Please don’t.” He cringed, holding his hands out and looking around nervously at the throngs of rival fans.

Luckily, you didn’t get the chance to make a scene about the ‘enemies’. The Piltover basketball team came shuffling out of the doors, happy and exhausted. You skipped over towards them.

“Jayce!” You clapped him on the back as he walked out of the building with Mel, ends of his wet hair freezing in the cold air, “Good fucking game, man! That tip off was incredible.”

“Hey,” Jayce said, flashing a perfect smile and, as usual, brushing off the compliment, “It was fine, I could've had more control.”

“Oh come on,” You scoffed, “You fucking killed it.”

“It was a close game, could have been anyone's,” Jayce shrugged.

“But it wasn’t anyone's, it was ours,” You pointed out, “We fucking won, and I’m telling you right now it’s because of you, man.”

“Okay, Okay, I get it, I’m the best,” Jayce said, holding his hands up in defeat. It was an odd sight, a man as large as him looking so bashful, “Now can we please get something to eat.”

-----

They ended up at the only place open this late at night. A dingy diner that hadn’t seen an equipment or decor update since 1973. The six of you were crammed into a corner booth, linoleum creaking underneath you. Jayce and Sky were in the end seats, their respective partners next to them, then you and Viktor crammed into the middle.

You didn’t seem to mind. Your knee knocked against his as you leaned over and chatted with Lest over the menu. It was nice, you being so comfortable next to him. He wished he could feel the same. He would have, had Mel and Sky not been looking at him so intensely. He could feel their eyes on him, watching, any movement, any breath towards you earned a reaction from them. Mel even took it upon herself to give Jayce some more room on the bench by sliding into Viktor. Nudging him closer and closer to you.

Again, you still didn’t seem to mind. Not even when he was pressed against you, knee to hip. You turned to him, tapping the menu he hadn’t touched on the table.

“You know what you’re getting?”

He looked down at it, humming, “I’m not sure, not really hungry.”

“Me either,” You admitted, “But I was gonna get fries and a shake if you wanted to share?”

He felt Mel shift next to him, her face turned towards Jayce but her attention fully on Viktor. He gave the answer he would have given had you two been alone, “Sure, sounds great.”

“Cool,” You smiled, grabbing the menu from in front of him and stacking it at the end of the table with yours.

It wasn’t long before a tired looking waitress came over to take orders. She gave her required script with as much energy as a middle aged woman working the night shift at a shitty diner could give. She was patient, though, even when Lest couldn’t figure out what she wanted and eventually asked to go last before the waitress continued on to Sky, then to you.

“We’re just gonna do a plate of fries and a large shake, please,” You told her, leaning your shoulder lightly against Viktor, signaling exactly who ‘we’ included.

“Chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla?” The waitress asked, writing on her notepad as she spoke.

“Oh, uh,” You turned to Viktor, silently asking his preference.

He didn’t really care, but knew what you’d like, “Strawberry is good, and can I get a water without ice, as well? Thank you.”

The waitress hummed in acknowledgement as she scribbled on the pad, then moved on to Mel. You were still leaning against him, shoulder pressed to his, as you scrolled through your phone. Reading an article as far as Viktor could tell, maybe an assignment for class that had been forgotten. He watched over your shoulder as you copied the link, opened your messages, and clicked on his contact. Two things stood out to him, the first being his number being saved as Vik <3 in your phone, the second being the message that was waiting in the message bar. : Ur still coming yeah?

You must have typed it out just before he reached the car. Just another confirmation of what Sky had said to him earlier. You seemingly wanted him around as much as he did you. You deleted the unsent text and sent the article link instead. When you turned to look up at him, he looked away. Pretending to hold an interest in the grimy lights overhead.

“I sent you a link,” You said, waiting for him to make eye contact with you, “It’s an article, you should read it later.”

“Oh?” He said like he didn’t already know, “What about?”

“Some new research on prosthetic organs,” You told him, “I figured you’d find it interesting given the whole biomechanical engineering thing.”

“You figured right,” He said, looking forward to the chance to read the article, “Tell me about it?”

Your eyes lit up as you gave him an abstract of the research. He tried not to hold his breath when you placed your hand on his thigh, the other hand waving around as you spoke. The concepts were intriguing, He was proud you had thought of him. He wondered if you read the article out of your own volition, or because you thought it was something that he would like. It didn’t matter much, you were thinking of him either way.

He listened carefully to you, explaining terminology you asked him for context on and making note to talk to you more after reading the article. He listened until the tired waitress came back with food and drinks. She distributed the simple meals, leaving two straws with the pink milkshake between you and Viktor. With a quick check that everything looked right, she was off. Probably not to be seen until the check was brought.

Viktor picked up his water, laughing as you relinquished a fry to Lest, who had ordered herself a salad. He paused when the water reached his lips and he caught the sound of ice knocking around in the glass. He scrunched his nose, setting the glass back down and resigning to wait for the ice to melt.

“You okay?” You asked quietly, giving a quick glance between him and the glass, a fry halfway to your mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” He shook his head, brushing you off, “Just the ice. I don’t like it.”

“Oh, like the cold hurts?” You asked, tilting your head.

“No, eh, I don’t like when it touches my teeth,” He laughed awkwardly, feeling childish, “It’s not a big deal, I usually just wait for it to melt.”

You blinked at him for a moment, not judging, just thinking. Then reached for his glass, sliding it closer to your own water.

“Well, I really like ice,” You said, unrolling a set of silverware. You pulled the fork out and hovered it over the lip of his glass, pausing to ask, “Can I?”

He nodded and you dipped the fork into his drink, catching a couple ice chips and dropping them into your own drink. He watched you focus as you repeated the action a few more times until his water was free of ice. You handed him the glass and picked up your own.

“Better?” You asked, holding the lip of your glass out to him.

He tapped the edge of his to yours with a satisfying clink, “Thank you.”

-----

By the time they began to shuffle out of the diner, a good inch or so had begun to stick to the ground.

“Mel has the keys,” Lest whined, yanking on the car door.

You hardly noticed, already busy balling up a fistful of snow and lobbing it at Jayce’s shoulder. He whipped around to glare at you as you hid behind the side of the car, another snowball smacked him in the chest from the other direction. Sky pretended to be very interested in her nails when he turned to look.

“Hell no,” Lest shook her head, swiftly turning on her heel and striding back towards the diner, “I’m going back inside.”

“Aw boo, Lest,” You half complained, half laughed as you threw a snowball her way. Viktor could tell you missed on purpose, “It’s just snow!”

“Yeah, and this jacket is just suede,” she shouted over her shoulder as she opened the diner door and stepped inside.

A snowball landed at Viktor’s feet, making him flinch. He looked up to see you, holding two already made snowballs in your hands, one held out as an offering to him.

“Sorry, milá,” He shrugged, taking a step back and holding a hand up, “My hands are cold enough as is.”

He was grateful you didn’t push him, instead you shrugged and threw one of the balls at Sky and the other at Jayce. Viktor retreated inside as the snowball fight turned into a snowball war. He watched the three of you running around the empty parking lot, using Mel’s car as cover from each other. He couldn’t help but to focus on you. Face absolutely lit up in joy. You were laughing, cheeks beautifully red from the cold and hair swirling around your face in the wind. A spot of snow was clinging to the back of your shoulder where Jayce had nailed you. His jacket, Viktor realized, scoffing to himself. You scolded Jayce, shouting and laughing at the same time as he wound back to pitch the snowball like a baseball. You screamed and ducked as he pitched it at half speed.

“God, why don’t you take a picture?” Lest scoffed from where she sat on a bench behind him, “It’ll last longer.”

Viktor pulled out his phone and took a photo. A couple actually, some focused on you, but mostly capturing all three of your running around. He sent them off to the group chat for you all to find later.

“Lest, you confuse me,” He said, slipping his phone into his pocket and settling into the bench opposite her, “Do you hate me or not? Because sometimes I really can’t tell.”

“I don’t hate you Viktor,” Lest said, narrowing her eyes at him, “I just don’t trust you.”

“And why is that?” He watched a clump of snow melt off the foot of his cane.

“Because, your actions directly affect the emotions of my best friend,” She said, voice flat like she was saying some other known fact, “I can’t help but be wary of that.”

“Well trust me,” He said, mouth in a flat line as he stared her down, “I have no intention of harming her. Ever.”

“Intention vs Impact.” Lest shrugged, crossing her legs, “Do you know how you’ll impact her?”

Viktor opened his mouth to argue, irritated at Lest’s smug accusations. Before he could say anything their waitress popped around the corner. A sigh of relief left her mouth when she saw them sitting there.

“Oh, I’m glad I caught ya,” She held a cellphone out to Viktor, “Your girlfriend left her phone.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Viktor huffed, taking your phone from her, then took a slow breath and slipped your phone into his pocket, “But, thank you.”

The waitress let out a short laugh, “Does she know that?” She raised an eyebrow at Viktor before walking away.

“This is so fucked up,” He shook his head in disbelief, turning back to Lest, “I’m the one being turned down by her. If it were up to me we’d be…”

“You’d be what, Viktor?” Mel asked as she rounded the corner, eyes narrowed as she analyzed him.

“Nothing, fucking nothing. Let’s just go,” He huffed, pushing himself up with his cane, then muttering under his breath as they walked out, "Frustrating women, the both of you. So nosy, can't leave anything be.”

Up ahead the Escalade beeped, lights flashing yellow as Mel unlocked it.

“Sorry,” She said from behind Viktor, “I thought I unlocked it.”

Lest yelped as Sky ran up to her, cold hands outstretched towards the other girl, “Sky don’t you dare!” She dodged her secret girlfriend, giggling as she raced her to the car.

Jayce took the keys from Mel and opened up the passenger door for her, a silent chivalrous offer to drive the rest of the way home. She kissed him on the cheek before climbing in.

You were waiting next to the open back door as Lest and Sky climbed into the third row. Smiling up at him as he reached the car. Looking at you up close, in the light, was even better than before. Cheeks and nose and ears all red cold, bits of snow wetting your hair, slightly out of breath from running around. Your breathing came in short puffs of fog in the cold air.

“Have fun being warm and lame?” You joked, climbing into the car, you slid over so he could follow after.

“Yes I did,” He replied matter-of-factly, getting into his seat and shutting out the cold, “You have fun freezing?”

“Freezing? Barely,” You scoffed, then reached out and placed your cold hands around his neck, “See? Practically burning hot.”

“I think you have nerve damage,” He cringed, trying to get away from you, you followed, giggling as you slipped one hand down the back of his shirt, the other on the side of his neck, “Ah, Ježíš! Your hands are like ice,” He yelped, half heartedly pushing you away.

He caught Mel watching in the rearview mirror, a spark of self-conscious panic shot through his chest. Gently he grabbed your wrists, actually prying your hands away from him.

“Settle, milá,” He hushed, hyper aware that every move he made was being observed.

“Sorry, sorry,” You giggled, sliding back to your side of the car and snapping your seatbelt into place.

As Jayce pulled out of the parking lot, the car fell silent aside from the blasting heaters. You held your hands up in front of the ones closest to you, warming your cold skin. He watched you settle against the door, arms crossing and burrowing into his stolen jacket.

He didn’t realize how much he looked at you until he actively tried not to. He caught himself staring at your hands, your knees, even your boots in an effort to not look at your face. In the end he resorted to fully facing the window, elbow leaning on the edge and mouth pressed against his face as he watched the slowly whitening landscape streak by.

It was a while into the drive before he heard you gasp softly, the sound of your rustling around in your seat reaching him. He frowned, glancing over to see you shoving your hands into your pockets, and feeling around underneath you. Panic was all over your face as you looked up at him. It only took a beat for him to realize what you were looking for.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he slipped your phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

“Sorry,” He whispered, as you took it with a sigh of relief, “The waitress handed it to me, I forgot.”

“Thank you,” You whispered back, leaning back into your seat.

He nodded, retreating to his own window. Again, only another few seconds passed before his own phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text from you.

Are you ok?

He frowned, looking over at you. You were looking out your own window, the only sign you had texted him being your phone open on your lap. He typed out a reply.

Yes. Why do you ask?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you read his response and begin typing out a new message.

Why are you so far away? I’m sorry about the hands thing.

He glanced back up at you. You were looking at him now, not pretending to be disinterested. He frowned and shook his head, opening his mouth to speak before turning back to his phone.

I’m not upset with you milá

Are you sure

I promise.

He glanced around the car. Lest and Sky were dead asleep, half on top of each other, Mel was silently reading a book on her phone and Jayce was nodding along to the quiet music on the radio. He debated for a moment, then gave in like always. He held his arm out to you, beckoning you closer.

You didn’t hesitate to unclip your seatbelt and slide over to him, slotting yourself against his side, head against his shoulder. Even with your screen in view you sent another text.

What's bothering you?

He sighed, pressing his forehead against the top of your head and squeezing his eyes shut. What was he supposed to say? That he was obsessed with you and it was simultaneously ruining and perfecting his life. That everyone around him was beginning to catch on. That there wasn’t anything he could do but wait for you. He couldn’t do that of course, so instead he gave you a half truth.

Nothing really, I just have some work to finish when we get back.

You hummed, only half believing, then typed again.

Can I help?

You’re very sweet, but it’s okay. I can handle it.

You looked up at him. Searching his face for the truth. He refused to give it away, instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple and mouthed ‘I promise.’ You huffed, but took his word for what it was. He did his best to enjoy your closeness without wallowing in the fact that he had no fucking clue what was going on.

-----

Viktor didn’t forget things. He could use equations he hadn’t used in years. He could name every cousin Jayce would tell stories about. He remembered the shape of his grandmother's wedding ring. He could list the due dates of the rest of his assignments for the rest of the semester. He could recall every time you called him baby.

But for some fucking reason, the project he had been working on that was worth a significant portion of his grade had entirely slipped his mind.

He braced his hands against the edge of the black top table. Staring at the mess of his ruined project. In his rush to meet you at the Red Lot, he had completely forgotten to move the agar plates to the cold room. Each one was desecrated. The heat in the lab kicked on at some point, rendering each unprotected plate bone dry and unusable. When Viktor returned past midnight, already exhausted, to discover that making five agar plates had turned into making fifteen. He started to lose it a little.

By the time he had everything set and ready to start working, another half an hour had passed. He was starting to feel the consequences of waking up at five the morning before. He felt slow, sluggish in his movements and limbs heavier than normal. The stress headache that set in made it hard to focus under the aggressive fluorescent lights.

Nothing was going right. The agar wouldn’t heat to the right temperature. Each time it came out of the microwave it was either far too hot or barely above room temperature. When he occasionally did get the consistency right, his hands shook like a leaf as he poured. He managed to get about half of the substance where it needed to be, the rest spilled onto the table. At some point, with only two of the fifteen plates completed and the third getting more and more difficult with each tired attempt. Viktor had his first real breakdown of junior year.

This was a simple fucking lab. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. That’s all he had to do. Heat. Pour. Close. Store. Yet he couldn’t fucking do it. The labeled plates in the cold room told him he was the last person in class to finish it. Almost everyone else had finished theirs within a day. He was supposed to be good at this. He couldn’t fucking walk right. His words went misunderstood. His lungs struggled to take in air. But his brain? His understanding of science? That’s what he was good at. Fucking great at.

He couldn’t help it when his lungs started to stutter in short gasping breaths. Or when his vision began to narrow and hot tears pricked at his eyes. He managed to fall onto a stool, sitting on the edge with his hands braced against the table as he spiraled. He could be home right now. He could be back in Černošice. Back with his mother. Back in the bookstore he worked summers in. Warm and safe and stable. Not worried about a visa or money or speaking English.

“Viktor?” Your careful voice came from behind him, fingers brushing against his shoulder.

He flinched with a gasp, turning further away and stumbling off the stool so quickly it began to tip over, taking his cane with it. Behind him you were quick enough to catch the stool, grabbing the edge before it could crash to the ground. His cane wasn’t so lucky, it hit the ground with a sharp clatter, skidding away.

“Sorry, sorry,” He muttered, still refusing to let you see his face. Without his cane he was forced to use the table to stay standing, exhaustion weighing him down

“Don’t apologize,” You said, voice still cautious. You took a few steps, scooped up his cane, and held the handle out for him to take. He balanced himself on it, stepping away from the table slightly, “Viktor do you know what time it is? What are you doing here?”

“It’s late, I know, but,” He sighed, looking away and wiping at his eyes as you tried to step around to look at him, “I have to finish this lab. I should have done it before the game, I just…I don’t know. I came back here to do the last of them and…I fucked it up. I didn’t put the plates in the cold room, and it had been a couple hours. They were ruined. I had to start from scratch.

He could feel the panic resurfacing, his voice shaking. At the end of his words he covered his eyes with his hand, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep tears at bay.

“Woah, hey, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’ll be fine,” You reached out for him, rubbing your hands over the tops of his arms, he finally relented to looking you in the eyes, “Vik, did you sleep at all today? You said you were up early. You’ve been awake for almost twenty-four hours,”

“I know,” His voice shook, trailing off, “But I have to get this done. It needs to be done.”

“Is it due tomorrow?” You gently pulled his hand away from his face, “I’ll help you finish it before class.

“You shouldn’t have to help me with my-”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t help me if I was in the same situation?” You cut him off, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Of course I’d help you, but-” He tried to argue.

“But nothing, Viktor,” You laid your palm against his flushed cheek, for once your skin was colder than his, “When is it due? Let me help you.”

He stared at you, trying to decide if he wanted to brush you off or fall into your arms. He didn’t know which would cause more damage in the long run.

“It’s due on Monday,” he told you, “I know I shouldn’t have waited so long to work on it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

A sharp laugh from you surprised him. He looked up at you, your face in a look of disbelief and your hand on your forehead. You shook your head, then reached out, grabbed him by the face and kissed him chastely on the lips. So quick Viktor didn’t have time to respond, to retaliate, to ask for more. Instead his face flamed red, watching you with wide eyes as he floundered for words.

Your hands were still on his cheeks, face leaning towards his. You looked him square in the eyes, “I adore you, you anxious, brilliant, insane man.” He blinked at you, mouth agape, as you stepped around him and began to fuss with the items on the table, “Come on, let’s clean this up and go to bed. I’ll help you finish the lab tomorrow, okay?”

You didn’t wait for a response. You got to work breaking down the lab, instead, discarding ruined materials, running glassware to the sink, and gathering his notes in a neat pile.

He tried his best to help, moving as quickly as his tired and aching body allowed. By the time he had rinsed and dried the few pieces of glassware, you had done everything else. He turned to find you holding his coat out to him and his backpack slung over your own shoulder. He took the coat from you and slipped it on.

“Let me just make sure I have my keys,” He said off handedly, searching the pockets.

“What for?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “Vik, it’s almost four am, it’s been snowing for hours, the plows aren't out yet, and you’re exhausted. No way am I letting you drive right now. You can crash in my room.”

You were already walking away when he tried to protest, “But Lest-”

“Is in Sky’s room, remember?” You pointed out, pushing up the lab door and holding it for him, “Now come on, I’m tired too.”

He obliged silently. The spark that raced up his spine and settled in his throat making it hard to speak. You waited for him at the door, letting him out first and hitting the lights behind him. The building was eerie at this time of night. Dark and empty and somehow louder than during the day. Every piece of equipment whirred idly, the vents thrummed, and without the ambience of the chatter of students and muffled sounds of lectures and labs.

Outside the air was cold and wet, but the snow had finally stopped falling. The entirety of campus was coated in a thick layer of snow. He hadn’t thought about snow when leaving the house this morning, he would have worn a thicker coat. Silently you trudged across campus, hand in his as the pair of you followed your solo footprints back to your dorm building.

Viktor had never been in your room before. All the times he had met up with you in the lobby of the building or walked you back, he had never once made it inside. As you bustled around, he observed. Taking it all in, cataloging details. He didn’t know what he expected. He had never particularly imagined your room. When he thought about you in a bed, it was always his, never the half-lofted twin he was looking at now. A plain quilt, with random throw blankets piled on top and a well-loved stuffed bear tucked into the corner. Above your bed were posters and photos and flyers were plastered to the wall, enough that most overlapped with each other. A windchime made of shells was illegally hung from the ceiling, the air from the heater making clinking them together lightly. The sound of you shoving your chair back under your desk broke him from his observation. He looked up to catch you moving a textbook from your bed to your desk.

“Did you finish your reading?” He asked, awkwardly stepping further into the room. Lest’s side of the space looked like a tornado swept through a fabric store. No wonder she had opted to sleep at Sky’s, the bed was buried beneath half bolts of linen and lace.

“No,” You scoffed, “I started it but fell asleep.”

“Sorry for keeping you up,” He said, shifting nervously.

“Viktor, stop apologizing to me,” You said, looking at him sadly, “It’s fine, I want you to be okay, okay?”

You didn't wait for a response, instead you walked past him. From your closet you pulled out your shower bag, a fresh toothbrush, a folded towel, and a bundle of clothes. “Bathroom is down the hall to the left,” You told him, taking his coat from his hands, “Toothpaste is in the side pocket and feel free to use whatever else you want in there.”

He nodded slowly and left without saying anything, exhaustion pulling down his shoulders.

When he came back - not showered but face washed and teeth brushed and changed into a high school t-shirt of yours and sweatpants you said you stole from your father - he didn’t bother knocking. He expected to find you in your own bed, but instead turned to see you cozied up in Lest’s, the fabrics all dumped into a cardboard box. You had your textbook open on your lap and were scribbling notes into the margins. He looked back to your bed, tidied up and the stuffed turtle hidden away. Made up for him to sleep in.

He turned back to you and frowned, “So you hate me?”

“It’s a small bed,” You shrugged.

“I don’t need the space,” He insisted, blinking at you.

You sighed, but closed your book and set it to the side as you stood. He noticed you had changed into boxers and a familiar shirt.

“Is that my shirt?” He asked, voice still rough from earlier emotions.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah,” You glanced down at the shirt he had let you borrow months ago, then looked up at him sheepishly, quickly offering, “I can wash it and give it back to you this weekend.”

“No, no,” He shook his head, answering quickly, “It looks, um, you can keep it, I barely wore it anyways.”

That was a lie. The old camp shirt was a staple on his days off. He hadn’t noticed its absence, though, and liked knowing you were wearing his last name,

“Okay, good, because I didn’t really want to give it back,” You said honestly, then sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him, “Inside or outside?”

“Either,” It was your bed after all.

“Fine, you get inside then.” You moved over, nodding for him to get into bed first.

He leaned his cane against your closet door and settled onto the edge of the bed, leaning over and unstrapping his brace. He winced as he flexed his now unconstricted limb. He could feel you watching him silently. He placed the brace next to his cane, climbed into your bed.

He moved around until he was laying down, placing himself between your body and the wall. You tugged the blanket over the both of you as he settled in.

You laid on your sides, facing each other. He let out a slow breath, feeling exposed to you in a way he hadn’t before. You reached up, gently brushing hair off of his warm forehead.

You sighed, smoothing your fingers over his cheek, “Viktor,” You said gently, “Are you okay?”

Like anyone, this was enough to open the flood gates. He blinked at you, eyebrows pulling in and swallowing hard as his eyes welled up. He could feel how hot his own face was already. You ignored it and brushed your thumb over his trembling lower lip, before dragging your hand to the back of his neck, your nails scratching gently at the hair on his nape.

“I’m,” He tried, a half sob cutting him off. He turned, pressing his face into the pillow, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” You watched him patiently.

“This is, uh, this is not very cool,” He admitted, voice muffled by the pillow. He could hear his own accent thicken as he worked himself up. He jerked with a weak laugh, “nor attractive.”

“Vik, really, what’s wrong?” You asked, brushing off his joke and sweeping his hair away from his temple.

He turned his face back to you, watching you watch him. You didn’t say anything, just waited. His eyes flickered across your face, searching for anything that made sense. Distaste? Irritation? A normal reaction to a weak man. Instead he found everything he gave to you, patience and adoration, returned in equal measure.

He sighed, rolled onto his back and stared up at your ceiling, “I’m just…tired.”

It was like there was a stone in his chest. He felt heavy, every cell in his body weighed down. It didn't take more than a few seconds for his throat to become tight and hot tears to well in his eyes for the second time that night. This time they spilled over, racing down the sides of his face and wetting his temples. You placed your hand on his chest, rubbing soft circles against his sternum in time with your own breathing.

You waited a moment before urging him to go on, “Because of finals?”

“Yes and… I don’t know, I just,” He frowned, nose scrunching up as he fought for the right words, “Never mind.”

“Viktor,” You scolded gently, “Since when can’t you tell me something?”

He glanced over at you, eyebrows pulled together, and in the smallest voice you had ever heard from him he told you, “I miss my mother.”

The admission surprised even himself.

“Which is ridiculous,” He added with a hard scoff, “I’m an adult. I don’t need my mother. I should be fine without her.”

“That’s not true, Vik,” You shook your head, “There isn’t an age limit on missing your parent.”

“I feel so childish,” He said, eyes still wet, “Crying over wanting my mother. I chose to come here. This is where I want to be, but sometimes… I just feel so lost without her.”

You reached up, guiding his chin to look over at you. He could see perfect empathetic tears welling in your own eyes, “Baby, that’s normal. You’re four thousand miles away from your home. It would be crazy if you were just…okay with that.”

He couldn’t come up with something to say, fully overwhelmed by his own emotions. Instead he moved closer, looping an arm over your waist and pressing his face into the crook of your neck to hide his face as he truly began to cry. You held him close, fingers moving up and down his spine as you let him. Eventually, the soft sobs turned to tired breaths and he had soaked the collar of your shirt. He felt heavier and lighter at the same time, relaxing as he calmed down.

“Viktor,” You asked softly, “When was the last time you called home?”

“It’s been…a while,” He admitted, readjusting slightly and pulling you closer.

“Do you want to call your mom now?” You offered, voice hopeful, “I think it might make you feel better.”

“I don’t know…” He hesitated, craning his neck to look up at your face, “I don’t want to bother her.”

“Viktor, her kid is four thousand miles away from her,” You pointed out, raising an eyebrow “She would love to hear from you, I’m sure.”

You reached above your head to grab his phone off the counter, handing it over to him, You handed it over, “Call your mom, Viktor.”

He swallowed hard, sniffing back another round of tears then did as you told him to do. His mothers number was one of three favorited contacts and in no time his phone was ringing for her. While he listened to the trilling, he settled further into your bed and arms. He hooked his leg over yours and you held onto him, fingers brushing idly through his hair.

“Ahoj, tady Sophie,” His mother answered, not looking at the caller id as usual.

“Dobré ráno, mami,” He hoped the crackle of her old cell covered the shake in his voice.

“Ach! Viktor?” She gasped, voice softening instantly, “Dobré ráno zlato moje. Proč jsi vzhůru tak brzy?"

Viktor sighed, “Nemohl jsem spát...jen jsem myslel na domov. Nevzbudil jsem tě, že?"

“Proboha, ne,” Sophie scoffed, “Je deset hodin ráno, kdo si myslíš, že jsem?"

“Nevím,” Viktor shrugged despite the fact that she couldn’t see him, “možná jsi zlenivěl, protože tam nejsem."

“Ach ano,” She laughed, he could hear her walking down the stairs, “rána byla mnohem klidnější, aniž bys rachotil kolem mého domu..”

“Jak se máš?” He already felt better, he regretted not calling her sooner, “Jak se má babička a děda?”

“Mám se dobře. Zaneprázdněný kostelem, je tu nový kněz, je to idiot,” In the background Viktor caught the sound of the kitchen radio and the coffee brewer that was older than him, he could picture her moving around doing a thousand things at once like she always did, “Zajet tu zatracenou věc do země. A ta kočka, kterou jsi krmil minulé léto, mě nenechá na pokoji. Následuje každý den celou cestu na autobusovou zastávku, mňoukám a mňoukám a mňoukám..”

“Miluješ ji, nelži” He laughed thinking about the scrawny calico stray he had taken care of. More than once he had caught his mom talking to her while she gardened.

“Ne, nenávidím ji. Tvůj dědeček ji miluje,” She insisted, he could tell she was smiling, “Krmí tu zatracenou věc každý den. Mimochodem, taky se jim daří dobře. Babička trochu upadla, ale už se dobře zotavila. Naštěstí jen s modřinou. Chybíš jim! Dnes jsou venku s kamarády, ale zavolej později a můžeš si s nimi promluvit.”

“Můžeš mi taky zavolat, víš,” He reminded her. Her lack of contact with him wasn’t out of malice or neglect, it was just who she was.

“Jsem si jistý, že jsi hodně zaneprázdněn studiem, nechci tě rušit,” She said, he heard the slide of a chair on the floor. In his head he could see her sitting in her usual spot, a black cup of coffee and the paper splayed out in front of her, glasses down the bridge of her nose, and phone pressed to her ear with her shoulder, “"Raději se soustřeď na studium. Ne večírkům a tak.”

“Nikdy matka” Viktor rolled his eyes, catching your free hand and idly playing with your fingers, “Všechno, co dělám, je učit se a chodit do třídy. Nic jiného.”

“Doufám, že lžeš, abys mě potěšil,” She deadpanned, “Nevychoval jsem nudného syna. Doufám, že těm Američanům děláš trochu problémy.”

“Ano, samozřejmě, už jsem byl zatčen třikrát,” He returned the serious tone.

“Dobře,” She huffed, then added, “a doufám, že i ty lámeš srdce.”

“Matka,” he scolded.

“Myslím to vážně, můj syn je hezký,” She insisted, “Ty americké dívky mají štěstí, že tě vůbec vidí.”

“Mami, přestaň,” He felt his face go red, embarrassed in a way only she could embarrass him.

“Proč? Máš přítelkyni?” She asked, he could see the look on her face.

“Ehm,” was the only way to respond.

“Jak se jmenuje?” Sophie asked with familiar enthusiasm, “Je hezká?”

Viktor debated for a moment, unsure how much he wanted to give away to his mother about something not set in stone, “Je nádherná,” He admitted, glancing up at you, eyes closed breathing slow, movement of your hands laced with his and fingers in his hair giving away that you were still awake, “Ještě není moje přítelkyně.”

“Ještě ne?” She scoffed, he heard the clunk of her coffee cup being set down, “Co to znamená?”

“Je to zodpovědná dívka,” He insisted, pressing his cheek back against your chest.

“Hm, a doufám, že jsi zodpovědný muž?” Her voice was wary, accusatory.

“Co tím myslíš?” He frowned, eyebrows pulling together.

“Jsem příliš mladý na to, abych byl babičkou, to myslím, Viktor,” She scolded.

“Matka!” He gasped.

She continued, “Poslouchej, já vím, že jsi chytrý kluk, ale-”

“Matka, přestaň prosím,” He was fully red now, nervously chuckling as he begged her to stop.

“Jen tě žádám, abys neotěhotněl s Američankou,” She insisted innocently.

“Mami, prosím,” He begged, hiding his face against you, he could feel you laughing at his reaction underneath him, fully unaware of what was being said, “Neplánuji nikoho v nejbližší době otěhotnět.”

More like ever, but she didn’t need to know that.

“No, plány ne vždy vyjdou tak, jak byste chtěli,” She defended, he heard the chair scrape against the floor as she stood.

“Já znám mami,” He scoffed, a yawn interrupting the sentence, “Já vím.”

“Věřím ti,” Sophie sighed, “Ale co bych to byla za matku, kdybych ti alespoň občas nenadávala.”

“Za co mi můžeš vynadat, mami?” He fought back another yawn, the feeling of your fingers at his temple pulling him under.

“Za to, že jsi během školní noci vzhůru do čtyř do rána,” She pointed out, “Teď jdi spát, dobře? Musím jít do práce..”

“Hm, dobře,” He nodded, “Dobrou noc mami, miluji tě.”

“Dobrou noc, můj dokonalý zodpovědný chlapče,” She cooed, “Miluji tě, slibuji, že zavolám víc.”

“Ty radši.”

After a reluctant beat the line went dead. He clicked his phone closed, the black screen reflected his tired face and your fingers moving idly above his year.

“Your voice is so pretty,” You hummed, voice soft with sleep, “I like it when you speak Czech.”

“Hm, that so?” He laughed, glancing up at you as he placed his phone back on the counter above your head.

“Yes, keep talking to me.” You told him, lip curled up in a smile, eyes still closed.

“Hm, jsi velmi zábavná dívka,” He told you, dragging a hand up over your waist, “Nevěděl jsem, že si můžu tak užít americkou holku.”

“American sounds so lovely in your mouth,” You sighed

“Ha, rád bych měl v puse Američana,” He joked, resisting the urge to bite at your soft flesh under his cheek.

“Keep going,” You urged.

“Zbývá třicet osm dní, než tě můžu pozvat na rande,” He wouldn’t admit to you that he checked that number every couple of days, “Jsem šokován, že se mi někdo tak líbí a... jsem si jistý, že se do tebe zamiluji..”

“Hm…what are you saying?” You muttered, he could tell you were fighting to stay awake at this point.

“Just facts.” He assured you, reaching up again to click off your lamp.

“Like?” You asked in the dark, voice barely audible.

Viktor laughed softly at your persistence, letting out a sigh as he felt sleep begin to overtake his body.

“Like, the sky is blue.”

#transfem lest

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