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The train rocked rhythmically back and forth as it sped over the tracks. Outside Viktor’s window, the landscape was mostly a constant of rolling hills and distant mountains. It was winter, and the land was covered in a thick cloak of snow. The sky, overcast and gray, warned that there would be snow. He left his compartment—he had, on that rare occasion, splurged on a nicer cabin so he might stretch his leg and avoid further pain—and walked slowly towards the dining car. Sometimes the train lurched to the side as it curved around a bend or through particularly hilly terrain, and Viktor had to catch his balance, hand braced against the cold window, and the other clutching his cane. The plush red carpeted floor helped keep him steady on his feet, and it wasn’t long before he’d traversed three cars to get to the dining area.

It was all mahogany wood and deep burgundy. Opulent with their crystalline glasses and porcelain silverware. An extravagance for someone like himself, living off, until then, a meager assistant professor’s salary. But he’d convinced himself that he deserved this; that the journey of several days warranted the extra comfort. Anything to avoid a miserable flare up during the trip, which would’ve made everything even worse. He was tired, and had barely slept the last two days since they left the station. His back ached and his leg felt exceedingly stiff. The bed in his private compartment was hardly accommodating—the mattress was too stiff and the bed too small for someone prone to moving in his sleep. He’d kicked the wall that first night, and along with a bruise that bloomed on his knee, he’d gotten a rather crass scolding from his neighbor, who demanded Viktor be more quiet. Viktor had had to bite his lip to avoid making an even more seething remark to the man. Old and dressed in an expensive-looking suit, the man had regarded Viktor in the same way men accustomed to looking down their noses do. Powerful men that had no desire to ever apologize, or be accommodating. Whatever they demanded, they got. Just the kind of man Viktor absolutely hated. There were countless of them where he was from; they plagued the universities, both in the form of professors with too much pedigree, and in the students, lazy and spoiled, that were, already at such a young age, expecting the world to bow in their presence. Maybe that’s why Viktor had left. But he’d been reminded that it didn’t matter where he went—how far to the other side of the world he found himself in—there would always be some asshole who believed he was above reproach. Above the pedestrian masses that he deemed insignificant in comparison to himself.

There in the dining car, where a few lavishly dressed men and women sat drinking wine and eating lamb, Viktor ordered himself a coffee and an apple tart. He’d hardly eaten since the journey started, but his medications (one for the pain and another for motion sickness) had a way of dampening his appetite. Everything felt stale and tasted like cardboard, and it was a waste of money to buy anything more if he was simply going to vomit it in the bathroom later, anyway. The coffee was bitter enough to shake him awake. At least before he proceeded to pour ample amounts of cream and several cubes of sugar. It wasn’t the sweet milk he preferred, but that would have to wait until he was all settled in at his new home. Home , he thought bitterly and stared out the window. The landscape had not changed since he left his compartment. The same hills, the same blanketing snow in the distance. Except now there were thick snowflakes beginning to fall; they seemed to descend in slow motion, floating and weightless as they were. It was disorienting, considering the speed the train was moving. He half expected it to look more like a deluge—the hammering of snowflakes against glass, much like drives under heavy rainfall, droplets pattering against the windshield of the car he has since sold. A wave of motion sickness washed over him, and he was forced to look away. Head cradled in his hands, he breathed. In. Out. In. Out. He counted his inhale, a slow and steady rise from one to four, before holding his breath for a count of six. The exhale came out stuttered—his breath quivered—and his lungs ached slightly with the effort. He wondered momentarily if he’d gotten a cold along the way, and hoped that wasn’t the case. A simple cold was nothing to most people, but for Viktor’s haggard lungs, it could mean the need for a doctor. There were still four days left of his journey. He couldn’t afford to fall ill.

In an effort to calm his wired nerves, he grabbed the book he had brought with him and began to read. It was a slog, unfortunately. The dense text—a book about a man who, over the course of several years, slowly turned himself into a machine—was heavy on technological jargon, with large paragraphs dedicated to so much theory and philosophy one almost forgot about the plot of the book. Normally it would have been perfect for Viktor. A welcomed distraction he would have sunk himself into. But he was too troubled by the pinch in his lower back and disturbed by the constant humming of the train barreling over the steel tracks. Still, he made a concerted effort to focus; if anything it would help to pass the time, he thought.

He wasn’t sure how many times he’d reread the same paragraph when the click of the door to the compartment caught his attention. Viktor’s eyes flickered in the direction of the sound involuntarily, and saw a young man, perhaps a few years younger than him, walk through the door. The young man’s gaze fleeted across the train car interior, as though he were assessing the environment and the people inside it. He was dressed casually, though put-together, in brown slacks and a thick burgundy cable-knit sweater. The hint of a five o’clock shadow had begun to show along his sharp jaw, and his dark brown hair, once pushed back, was beginning to fall slightly along his forehead. Viktor wantonly stared at him. Watched his long legs help carry the young man further into the room. And then his eyes caught Viktor’s and he paused mid-step. How cliche, a part of Viktor thought, but the world really did seem to fall still in that moment. The other passengers faded into the background like distant and forgotten memories. The sound of their clinking silverware merely the whisper of the universe. It must have lasted no more than a second or two, but Viktor’s world shifted—albeit nearly imperceptibly—and he found himself breathing even more slowly. Holding his breath a beat longer before the exhale. And just like that the young man was looking away and heading towards the bar. The muted thud of his steps, even and confident, fell in tandem with the beating of Viktor’s heart. The treacherous thing that had dared to skip when their eyes had met, and he had thought he saw the hint of a smile on the young man’s lips. An illusion, no doubt. Nothing more than Viktor’s tired and perhaps depraved mind considering himself the object of such a man’s attention. A young man who, upon entering the car, instantly had several of the diners looking up at him. The women’s eyes tracked his movements. Their gazes lustful and with intent.

Viktor went back to picking at his tart. It was too cold. He preferred it warm, and perhaps with a bit of cream. His had instead been frozen at some point, and had barely thawed before it had been plated and served to him. The thin slice of sour apple crunched as he chewed, and he washed it down with a generous gulp of his coffee. It had grown colder—the cream had certainly not helped—and it did little to warm him. At least the train car wasn’t totally freezing. Outside, the wind had picked up. It’s howling gales beat against the window, and large gusts swept up spirals of snow into the air. He watched one twist and dissipate until he sensed a presence beside him. Viktor looked up and found, much to his surprise, the young man standing next to his table. He wore a nervous smile; his hands were grasped behind his back. So polite , Viktor thought.

“Yes?” He said.

The young man bit his lip before glancing wearily around the train car and then back once more at Viktor. “Sorry, but is it okay if I share a table with you? The others are taken.”

Viktor looked around the room. Sure enough, all the other tables were taken by couples and other single travelers. An older woman, dressed in an expensive dress and shimmering pearls, eyed them. She clearly wanted to invite the young man to sit with her. By the end of the night, with enough wine and the lavishing of her fortune, she must’ve thought she’d end up with the youth warming her bed. But the rueful look of the young man made it clear he was less than interested. “Of course,” Viktor said at last. “Go right ahead,” he motioned to the empty chair in front of him. Across the room he heard the woman click her tongue.

“Thank you,” the young man said gratefully. “Please don’t mind me. I don’t mean to interrupt your reading.”

Viktor had scarcely read a page of his book. He couldn’t even remember what he’d been reading about, and it didn’t particularly matter now that he had something far more interesting to engage him. He smiled. “You’re not interrupting. I couldn’t read more than a paragraph.” He admitted.

To his pleasant surprise, the young man smiled. His imperfect teeth were slightly misaligned , though pearly white. Viktor wondered what it would be like to run his tongue over the gap of his front teeth. Sharp canines catching on his lip. “That bad?” The young man asked and nodded toward the book.

Viktor closed it shut. “It’s good. But I have a hard time concentrating. The swaying of the car doesn’t suit me.”

“Motion sickness?”

“Mn, unfortunately. Amongst many other things.” He said the last bit jokingly, hoping to elicit yet another smile. But unfortunately it only made the young man frown. That, somehow, also suited him. Perhaps everything did.

“I’m not great with motion sickness myself. I found the smell of menthol really helps.” He fished from his pocket a small pot. Without opening the lid, the eucalyptus smell was already strong.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Viktor said.

A waiter brought the young man his meal. A plateful of rice, roasted potatoes, and some sort of meat. Along with two glasses of wine. When Viktor raised an amused eyebrow, the young man’s cheeks flushed slightly. “As a thank you. I-I wasn’t presuming anything, of course. And you don’t have to actually drink it. Sorry, if that made you uncomfortable.”

Viktor laughed. “Not at all. Maybe if I drink a bit I can pretend it’s the wine making the room sway, and not the damn train.”

The young man smiled again. Warm in a way Viktor was unused to seeing directed at him. It made something dead in chest flutter, and he hated himself for it. Truly, his body was determined to embarrass him. “I’m Jayce,” the young man finally introduced himself.

Jayce , Viktor repeated in his head. It was a nice name. A perfectly fitting name, in fact. It was unassuming, a complete juxtaposition to the kind of man Jayce appeared to be. Muscular and exceedingly tall. Nothing unassuming about his physique. Beautiful and painfully radiant, Viktor nearly had to look away every time Jayce graced him with a smile. Unfortunately for Viktor, Jayce seemed to have smiles to spare.

“Viktor.”

“Nice to meet you, Viktor,” Jayce extended his hand out. The way his name rolled off of Jayce’s tongue burrowed deep into his chest.

Viktor held out his hand and shook Jayce’s. It was a mistake; it only served to make Viktor realize how large Jayce’s hands were. Rough and calloused, it was molten skin, hot in Viktor’s own cold palm. “Nice to meet you,” he echoed.

Then Jayce’s hand was receding, and if it wasn't socially unacceptable Viktor would have held on for a beat longer. Let the touch of Jayce’s molten skin, hot like coals that helped power the train, linger until he could commit the feel of it to memory. How fleeting , Viktor thought as he clenched his hand in his lap.

Jayce glanced out the window momentarily, and his carefree demeanor tensed as he watched the heavy snowfall. He sighed. “It’s really snowing, huh?”

“I guess we’re going through some mountains. Should be through by nightfall.” Viktor had memorized the itinerary, and had studied the map of the journey.

“At least we’re inside. Just hoping nothing happens…” Jayce trailed off. He picked haphazardly at his meal.

“Not a fan of snow?” Viktor asked.

Jayce shook his head. “Not really. Got lost in a storm once when I was a kid.”

“Ah, that would certainly leave an impression.”

Jayce nodded. “Not much fun anyway. Cold and wet as it is.”

Viktor chuckled. “I hear some people really enjoy it. They play in the snow and everything.”

Jayce shuddered. “No thanks.”

Cute. Viktor didn’t say. “So what brings you on this trip if you hate snow so much?” Viktor took a measured sip of the wine. To his surprise, it was exactly to his taste. Sweet and floral.

“Going home after a year abroad.”

“Were you studying?”

Jayce grinned. “A sabbatical, actually.”

“Sabbatical? How old are you?” Viktor had thought Jayce to be in his early to mid twenties, at most.

Jayce laughed, as though amused by the question. He must have been used to people thinking he was quite young. “I’m thirty-two. But,” and then he looked rather bashful, “I finished college young and worked at the university even as I was finishing my thesis in parallel. They officially counted those years, and well…” he gestured dismissively.

They were only two years apart in age. “Impressive.”

“Not really,” he said modestly. “What about you?”

“I’m leaving home. Though I guess I could barely call it that.”

“And what do you do?”

“Funny enough, teaching.”

“Oh.”

Viktor leaned back on his chair. “Small world, I suppose.”

Jayce chuckled. “Not so small. Though usually my luck lands me with very different company. Not one quite as interesting.”

Viktor smirked. “You hardly know me. What makes you think I’m interesting?”

Jayce looked at Viktor over the rim of his wine glass as he took another sip. “A hunch?”

“And what sort of hunch did you have?” Viktor prodded. There was a tenuous line he was treading. He felt the lilt of his tone turn toward the flirtatious, but he saw no sign of Jayce recoiling from him. At least not yet.

Jayce looked at Viktor, unblinking, for a long while. Silence stretched between them, but neither spoke, as if afraid to shatter whatever mood had risen between them. Jayce was scrutinizing Viktor just as much as Viktor was him. Eventually, Jayce finally looked away. Viktor exhaled. “I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you.”

Viktor’s heart skipped against his better judgement. Such weak fluttering of an organ that had, on multiple occasions, failed to function as it should for Viktor. Now, again, it betrayed him. Made a flood of blood rush to his cheeks. He pressed a hand to his face and rubbed at the creeping blush. “That’s quite a bold thing to say to a stranger. Tell me, what did you want to talk about?”

“Anything,” Jayce said. The hint of nervousness was so unfair considering how easily he was saying things that made Viktor’s stomach swoop.

“Okay, what do you teach? What was your major?” That was an easy question. Simple, though obvious and a bit boring, but at least it was a start.

“Geology. And environmental engineering.”

“Rocks?” Viktor asked, amused.

Jayce rolled his eyes and Viktor’s grin widened. That was new. “Experimental petrology. My thesis was around creating a predictive model that helps us know areas where miners are at risk of cavings and other hazardous situations.”

“Impressive,” Viktor said honestly. “What made you choose the field?”

Jayce flushed. “I was really into rocks as a kid,” he mumbled.

Viktor laughed. Jayce must have taken it as Viktor teasing him, if his pout was any indication. For a man his age, sulking looked quite adorably on him. “Did you collect rocks?” Viktor guessed.

“Y-Yeah…” Jayce reluctantly admitted.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I used to collect junk metal to turn into gadgets.”

“Oh?” Jayce leaned over the table. Forearms coming to rest on the lacquered surface. “What did you major in?”

“Bio-mechanical engineering, and robotics. Medical applications.”

“Ah, that explains the book.” Jayce nodded towards the novel now left abandoned on the corner of the table.

“Do you know it?”

“I read it last year. Quite dense.”

“What did you think of it, besides that it’s quite dense?”

“It was an interesting premise. Though the author seemed to get lost in the philosophy of turning oneself into a cyborg, and seemed to forget the plot countless times.”

Viktor smiled at the echoing of his own opinions. “What do you think?”

“About?”

“Turning oneself into a robot.”

“Hm,” Jayce considered Viktor’s question seriously. “I don’t see the problem with it, I suppose. We’ve advanced enough that there are millions of people living with prosthetic limbs. Humans have been modifying themselves with science for centuries, after all.”

Viktor stabbed an apple from his tart and ate it. It had slightly warmed in the open air, but by then the dough had grown soggy. He grimaced at the taste. “Some would argue that we are intervening with god’s plan. That it’s unnatural for us to do.” He eyed Jayce curiously. Eager to see what sort of reaction Jayce would make, and was unsurprised to see him shrug casually.

“Then we should go live in the forest. Stop wearing glasses, and forget about taking penicillin. If it’s unnatural, we might as well let people die of the common flu, if god had such a plan.” It was clear in the way he spoke that Jayce held little to no regard for theological beliefs. He spoke confidently, and without concern about whether Viktor might be offended or not.

“If that were the case, I’d have been gone a long time ago.” Viktor, out of habit for making self-deprecating remarks about his health, said jokingly. Jayce’s expression once more turned serious.

“Are you ill?” He asked with concern.

“Eh, here and there. Mostly used to it by now. Certainly nothing to warrant that face.” Viktor pointed at Jayce.

“What face?” Jayce’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Viktor tilted his head. “That obvious concern of yours. Do you go around worrying about strangers? That can’t be particularly good for your health.”

Jayce frowned. “I don’t make a habit of concerning myself with others beyond the extent of my research.”

“So why?”

“We’re not exactly strangers anymore, are we?” Jayce said stubbornly.

Viktor huffed. “No, I guess not.”

They talked for several hours. The lights in the train car dim, and the other passengers slowly filtered out of the room. A new wave of patrons came in for dinner, and Jayce ordered them a bottle of wine.

Over the course of the next few days, Viktor dined with Jayce. An early dinner stretched late into the night. He learned that Jayce had an economy seat, and spent much of his time crammed into a car where children wailed and the smell of cabbage and sweat was ever-present. To escape, Jayce walked up and down the car about five times a day, and whiled the time away near the engine room—where Viktor suspected Jayce is technically not supposed to be—reading and just staring at the passing scenery.

Jayce had a straightforward temperament. He seemed keenly aware of every subtle shift in Viktor’s expressions, and he adjusted himself accordingly. Sometimes he looked nervous, as if worried Viktor would find something he said off-putting. When he’d realized it was quite the opposite, the relief was palpable. It was strange, Viktor thought, to have such scrutinizing attention on him. It should have, for a more sane person, been rather unnerving. After all, Jayce’s gravitas was intense. He spoke seriously about his research, but laughed heartily at the bad jokes Viktor made. Genuine laughs, and not the pitying forced kind. He had a way of drawing others in, and Viktor, despite his every attempt at maintaining an independent and logical course in his life, found himself getting tugged into Jayce’s orbit. The gravitational pull pitching Viktor off course.

Then the final dinner wrapped, and Jayce walked Viktor to his cabin and he hesitated momentarily outside Viktor’s door. “Good night, Viktor.”

“Good night, Jayce.” Viktor swallowed thickly.

“Tomorrow morning we arrive to the city.” Jayce stared at a point behind Viktor. Past the window, where outside it was so dark one could barely see the landscape. Viktor was sure that the air had started to smell of the sea, however. They were so close. Close to the end of the journey, and potentially to an end of whatever it was that had formed between them.

“It went by faster than I expected,” Viktor said quietly. It was because he’d been so distracted talking to Jayce, that he hadn’t even thought about his motion sickness.

“It did.”

“Well,” Viktor didn’t move.

Jayce suddenly looked up, determined. “Can I see you again? After we arrive?”

Viktor grinned. “Sure.”

“You don’t have to feel forced to,” Jayce was quick to add, “I just thought—”

Viktor stepped closer. “I don’t feel forced to do anything,” he glanced up at Jayce. They spent so much time together sitting, that Viktor sometimes forgot how much taller Jayce was. Jayce swallowed. His eyes flickered across Viktor’s face, searching. Viktor hoped he found the right answer. That he hadn’t misunderstood.

Jayce followed suit, his chest coming to press against Viktor’s. “That day, I’d planned on buying a sandwich and going back to my seat.” He confessed.

Viktor smiled. “What made you stay?”

Jayce’s arm, to Viktor’s great satisfaction, snaked around his waist. Jayce tugged possessively and pressed them closer together. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Sorry,” Viktor tipped his chin up, “you’ll have to be more clear.”

Jayce rolled his eyes affectionately. “You enjoy teasing me.” He leaned down. The ghosting of his breath against Viktor’s lips sent a shiver up Viktor’s spine. His hand moved to steady him against Jayce’s chest. The muscle was solid beneath his palm.

“I do, you make it too easy.” He grinned.

“I suppose I do,” Jayce whispered before he leaned down and kissed Viktor. Soft lips, pressed in a fleeting touch. He was pulling away too soon, and Viktor protested by tugging him back down. Jayce grinned against his lips.

They kissed right there, outside of Viktor’s compartment. He melted into Jayce’s embrace. Allowed him to hold up much of Viktor’s weight so Viktor could wrap both arms around Jayce’s neck. It deepened, and Viktor felt the swipe of Jayce’s tongue against his own. His warm mouth, and the steady drumming of Jayce’s heartbeat, tethered Viktor in place. The hum of the train was suddenly a pleasant sound.

The train jolted, but Jayce caught them before they could fall. Someone beside them suddenly coughed, and when Viktor turned he saw his neighbor staring at them in abject horror. He was trying to get to his own compartment.

“This is hardly the place for that!” The man reprimanded.

Jayce, mortified, was about ready to release Viktor, but before he could Viktor grabbed his collar and shot the intruding man a sarcastic smile. “You’re right. Please excuse us.” He tugged Jayce into his own compartment and kicked the door closed.

“He hates me,” Viktor whispered playfully.

Jayce laughed. “Can’t imagine what he thinks is going to happen now.”

Viktor raised a brow. “Oh? What is going to happen now, Jayce?” His hands curled around Jayce’s neck.

Jayce blushed. “I-I’m not sure, actually. What am I allowed?”

“Do you always ask for instruction?” Viktor kissed the corner of his mouth.

Jayce’s hold tightened. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want, and scare you away.” He said quietly. Uncertain and a bit apprehensive. It was disorienting to have a man such as Jayce—one people clearly lusted over wherever he went—be afraid of losing Viktor’s good graces. It made him feel drunk with power.

Viktor smirked. “Maybe I’m the one who wants to do things to you that would scare you.” He bit Jayce’s bottom lip. Sucked it with just too much force, and watched it bleed red when he released it. Jayce shivered. “Would you like that, Jayce?”

“Yes,” he said breathlessly.

Viktor ran a hand along the side of Jayce’s neck. Followed the artery and felt the pulse beneath his thumb. “You’ll have to wait. Not really the most comfortable of places for certain activities.” His fingers curled around Jayce’s neck. “But later. If you’re good.” He gave an experimental squeeze. Light, with hardly any pressure. Jayce’s mouth fell open. He breathed more heavily; the rise and fall of his chest quick, and strained. He nodded wordlessly before kissing Viktor again.

The two stumbled back against the wall of the train car. Somewhere on the floor, Viktor’s cane clattered. Left abandoned as Viktor allowed Jayce to press him against the cold window. Arms braced around Viktor’s waist, once more holding up most of his weight. Jayce kissed Viktor with eager abandon, as if he’d been thinking about it for days now. Viktor had certainly imagined sucking on Jayce’s lips during their hour-long conversations. Imagined Jayce on his knees when he was alone in his train compartment, and envisioned those honeyed eyes looking up at Viktor expectantly. Pleading, even. In his perversions, Viktor could do anything to him and Jayce would thank him. Viktor realized as Jayce allowed Viktor to tug harshly at his hair, that maybe that wasn’t too far off from reality. No need for depraved fantasies when the real man turned to putty in Viktor’s hold. Jayce groaned excitedly. His grasp around Viktor’s waist growing on the verge of painful. Jayce’s large hands dug at Viktor’s sides.

Despite having the cold window against his back, the room grew oppressively hot. Sweat clung to Viktor’s neck. He grumbled as his hands skimmed down Jayce’s chest and tugged annoyedly at the hem of his sweater. “Off,” he instructed. Jayce pulled back just enough to wrench the sweater over his head. He revealed just what Viktor had imagined: large expanse of a muscular chest that gave way to chiseled abs. Perked nipples pink against tawny skin. It was ridiculous, really, how good-looking he was. He must have said it aloud, because Jayce laughed and dipped to whisper a sultry ‘thank you,’ in Viktor’s ear.

A train car was hardly the place for a tryst, regardless of having a bed or not. For one, Viktor’s body, prone to aches and unaccustomed to certain levels of physical discomfort, wasn’t exactly happy about the prospect of getting fucked in a small twin-sized bed. But he would make something work, even if he’d have to wait for a proper fucking until they arrived. He wasn’t about to stop Jayce from tugging Viktor’s sweater over his head, before moving to unbutton Viktor’s shirt. Jayce’s fingers were a bit clumsy, trembling as they were, and perhaps Viktor wasn’t helping by kissing Jayce’s neck and pinching his nipples. Rolling the bud with his thumb and feeling it harden. He wanted to put his mouth to those abs. Wanted to feel the muscle pull taut beneath his lips, and test the limits of Jayce’s composure—how quiet could he be? Was he loud? Viktor wondered. His hand trailed down Jayce’s chest with great indulgence before he pressed it against the growing bulge in Jayce’s pants. The guttural moan was enough of an answer. Yes, he was loud . Viktor’s neighbor would be having quite the time, hearing the evident sounds the two were making. The moan that escaped him when Jayce had finished unbuttoning Viktor’s shirt, his hot hands now against Viktor’s cold skin, certainly wouldn’t help.

Jayce paused. His eyes traced a scar that bisected Viktor’s chest. Viktor half expected Jayce to ask about it (the scar result of efforts to remedy his assailing heart), but instead he leaned down and kissed it. It was a painfully intimate gesture. The feel of Jayce’s lips against his chest. The reverence with which he kissed the gnarled scar, pink and jagged as it was. He had a similar one running along his spine, where corrective surgery several years ago had attempted to fix the curvature of his vertebrae. Jayce found it as his fingers skimmed up Viktor’s back. Traced the scar with his thumb as he felt the jut of Viktor’s spine.

“As you can see,” Viktor said against Jayce’s jaw, “I’m quite the science experiment.” He laughed.

“You’re beautiful,” Jayce said. The intensity of it punched the air out of Viktor’s lungs.

“Kiss me again, Jayce.”

And he did.

Slowly Viktor’s clothes were discarded, pants stepped out of were tossed in a heap somewhere in a corner of the vestibule. Only wearing his boxes and the shirt, fully unbuttoned to reveal Viktor’s chest, he guided Jayce onto the bed. And really it was too small. Or perhaps it was just Jayce that was too big. His muscular frame consumed most of it, and the low ceiling made it a precarious position for them to be in. Viktor crawled onto his lap and felt he bulge of Jayce’s cock, hard and straining, pressed against his own. He could tell it was big—perhaps too big. Before he could see it, however, Jayce was pressing his palm to Viktor’s crotch. Eyes brilliant and expectant, he waited for Viktor’s permission before he dipped into Viktor’s boxes.

“Fuck,” Viktor groaned as Jayce’s hand wrapped around his cock and exposed him to the cold air of the vestibule. The tip of his cock was already leaking pearly beads, and Jayce, seemingly entranced by the sight, pressed his thumb to slit; watched as more of the fluid dribbled down Viktor’s shaft. Viktor moaned. “A-are you, ah, just going to stare at it?” He taunted.

Jayce’s eyes narrowed. Viktor was beginning to understand how competitive Jayce could be. Spurred by Viktor’s taunting, he began to stroke Viktor to full hardness. Thumb traced the vein that ran up the side, while his fingers at times fondled Viktor’s balls. It was excruciatingly slow at first. As if Jayce was intent on taking his sweet time, he ignored Viktor’s frustrated groans as he sought more friction. He wanted to know just how frightening Jayce thought himself to be. What kind of obsessive fantasies whirled around in that brilliant brain of his. For his part, Viktor wanted to do so many unspeakable things to Jayce. Wanted to tie him up and torment him. Edge him with the promise of an orgasm that would be denied over and over again until Viktor thought Jayce deserved to come. Maybe if he was truly good, Viktor would allow him to come in Viktor’s mouth. Lips around Jayce’s cock stretched wide to accommodate his girth. Gods he wondered if he would even be able to take him.

“Jayce, fuck, hurry up,” he balked.

“I don’t have any lube,” Jayce said, almost absentmindedly. His eyes didn’t leave the sight of Viktor’s cock in his hand. He was a man hypnotized, and Viktor couldn’t help but preen knowing it was entirely his doing.

Viktor laughed airily. “I’d be surprised if you did.” He leaned down to whisper in Jayce’s ear. “It’s fine. Use your imagination, Jayce.” Leaning back, he watched the gears in Jayce’s mind turn.

His hand released Viktor suddenly, but before Viktor could reproach him for it, Jayce spat into his palm and wrapped it once more around Viktor’s cock. Victor grunted. The wet glide was hesitant at first, until Viktor moaned in encouragement, and Jayce’s hand grew more confident, and pumped Viktor’s cock in rhythmic strokes; the large hand engulfed Viktor to the point that he could hardly see himself. Viktor’s hips made aborted efforts to chase the friction, but his leg was beginning to strain and if he moved too brusquely he would certainly bang his head against the upper bunk.

The handjob was enough to have Viktor reeling with pleasure. Body too hot and mind too enraptured to string together coherent thoughts. But it wouldn’t be enough for him to orgasm. The muscles in his legs were beginning to protest, and the tiredness made it difficult for him to maintain a consistent rhythm. He groaned in annoyance. Fuck this damn body , he thought frustratedly. He was too distracted by his own inability—his seeming lack of stamina—and was embarrassed to think how confidently he had spoken to Jayce about all of the things he wanted to do to him. But sleeping in a train car, cramped and stiff, had done a disservice to Viktor’s body. He needed a proper bed, and better rest.

Viktor felt Jayce’s movements slow, and only then did he realize he’d been frowning. Brows pinched and mouth downturned. Jayce kissed his cheek. Sweet and tender, when Viktor wanted him to be a little rough. He didn’t need the mood spoiled by any sort of pity.

“Here,” Jayce maneuvered Viktor on his lap until Viktor’s legs were wrapped around his waist. Despite the small space, at least he could stretch his right leg. Unfortunately, however, it would make it harder for Viktor to aid in his own movements.

“I’m fine, Jayce,” he said stubbornly.

“I know,” Jayce kissed his jaw. “But didn’t you say there’d be time for more later?”

“Maybe I’m more impatient than I thought,” Victor grumbled.

Jayce grinned. “What would you do if we were somewhere more comfortable?” Jayce made conversation as if his hand wasn’t still stroking Viktor’s cock.

Viktor exhaled slowly. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

Jayce was doing a good job distracting Viktor. His other hand traced soothing circles along Viktor’s lower back. He breathed evenly, allowing his body to relax into Jayce’s hold. Cast aside his tormenting rumination and spiraling mind. He thought, instead, about what he wanted from Jayce. Jayce, who seemed terrifyingly eager to give Viktor all kinds of affordances.

Viktor’s hand tugged at the button of Jayce’s pants. “I want to see you.” Jayce nodded, and Viktor unhooked the button of his pants. His throat went dry when he pulled Jayce’s cock out of his boxers. It sprung heavy and red. Fuck , he was much bigger than Viktor even imagined. His hand was unable to wrap around its girth.

“Well?” Jayce smiled in amusement.

Viktor’s hand curled around the base of the shaft. His thumb and index finger didn’t even meet. But it was enough to pull a strangled whine from Jayce. Jaw slack, his mouth fell open. “No wonder that woman in the dining car seemed pissed I’d stolen you from her,” Viktor said as his hand began to move with even strokes. Jayce moaned. “Did she come on to you?” He asked casually.

“W-who—?” Jayce’s question caught when Viktor’s grip tightened.

“In the dining car, when we first met.”

“Oh, uh,” Jayce hesitated before answering honestly. “Y-yeah.”

Viktor hummed. “Did she touch you?” Something dark surfaced in his heart.

“What? No, I mean—fuck, Viktor, are really asking about that now ?” Jayce’s own hand faltered.

“I am. People like that have a way of touching things that aren’t theirs.” He said menacingly.

“And who do I belong to, then?” Jayce asked. Eyes bright with curiosity.

Fuck, this is too much . Viktor drowned the possessive feeling. Shoved it deep into the recesses of his mind, where every lecherous thought he’d ever entertained was kept under lock and key. The kind of imagined fantasy that bordered on obscene at best, and depraved at their worst. Not that they particularly frightened him per say, but there were social norms to be performed, and Viktor over the years had learned that even when people claimed to want to get to know him, they were apt to run away the moment he revealed far too much of himself. Those grotesque and fleshy bits; the desire to slit another’s chest cavity open just so he might admire the beating heart. Compare it to his own. Words such as those had a way of making any sane person blanch; their legs carrying them out the door before Viktor could so much as pretend it had all been some sort of unsavory joke.

To lay claim to Jayce, he realized with incredulity, was a mistake on his part. Especially voicing it to the man himself. But then Jayce kissed him again. Pressed their mouths together and shoved his tongue possessively past Viktor’s lips. Ran it along Viktor’s teeth and dragged it, wet and hot, along the roof of his mouth. They both moaned. Their hands began to stroke more fervently now. Hips canting up to chase the friction. The profanely wet sound their mouths made was made worse by each determined stroke. Viktor’s mind grew quiet. Any concern diminished by simple desire.

His wrist began to strain, but then Jayce’s large hand was wrapping around both of their cocks, and the feel of skin against skin had Viktor’s head pitching back. He moaned so loudly he knew his neighbor would hear. He couldn’t be damned.

“J-Jayce,” he groaned. His breathing was growing heavy and his chest heaved with every gasp. Coiled tight in his gut were the early warnings of an impending orgasm. If only he could stave it off for a bit longer. Hold on to the moment for hours—make himself at home in Jayce’s lap, where Viktor was beginning to think he rightfully belonged. Jayce himself seemed perfectly fine; his damn stamina both exhilarating and somewhat terrifying. Only a light sheen of sweat clung to Jayce’s chest. He seemed to exert little effort, physically, but he too was beginning to lose his composure. The thrust of his hips growing uncoordinated and erratic.

“Viktor, I—” He groaned before burying his face in Viktor’s shoulder.

“I-I want…to hear you come,” Viktor said between breaths.

“Fuck~” Jayce’s hand squeezed around their cocks. He whined, and the sound went straight to Viktor’s cock. That a man like him could produce such a sound was vulgar.

“Yes, that’s it, Jayce,” Viktor egged him on. His hands threaded through the longer parts of Jayce’s hair and he pulled harshly. “Be good for me,” Viktor drawled.

“I-I will,” Jayce’s hand, cupping the swell of Viktor’s ass, pushed their hips even closer together. “I can be yours,” he added. Viktor wasn’t sure if Jayce even registered what he’d said. He couldn’t see his face, but felt Jayce bite his shoulder. Sharp canines dug into Viktor’s skin, marking the soft flesh.

“Fuck!” The orgasm raked through him with surprising intensity. Felt the sticky come all over their hands, before Jayce followed suit. Their hands painted milky white. They continued to thrust their hips weakly until they’d both calmed slightly from their orgasms. Clung to each other with sweat-tacky skin.

When they’d come down from the high, Jayce pulled away enough to look at Viktor. Glazed eyes tracked the movements of Viktor’s expressions. Searching for affirmation that he’d been good.

Viktor grinned blearily and kissed him sweetly. A soft peck on the lips.

Despite Viktor claiming the bed was too small for two people, the two ended up lying down together after cleaning up. Beneath the thin blanket, Viktor curled into Jayce’s chest. Half draped over his body just so the two could fit. He would have preferred to continue talking for a while longer, but exhaustion seeped into his muscles and he eventually succumbed to the enticing allure of sleep.

When they arrived the next morning to the station, Jayce collected his things from his own train car, while Viktor gathered his two suitcases. Outside his compartment, he ran once more into his neighbor, and the man paled the moment he saw Viktor.

“Good morning,” Viktor mockingly smiled. Tone polite despite his leer.

The man muttered something along the lines of ‘how obscene,’ before rushing past Viktor.

There was a brief moment when Viktor thought perhaps that would be it. The magic spell broken, the two would inevitably go their separate ways. Sometimes people liked the novelty of a semi-public rendezvous, before they returned to their normal lives. A fun story to tell amongst friends at the bar.

But then Jayce helped Viktor carry his two suitcases off the train and asked, rather shyly for a man whose hands had previously touched Viktor quite intimately, whether he could have Viktor’s number.

They didn’t see each other for a week. They agreed that despite wanting to, their busy schedules made it too difficult. Viktor was getting settled into his new apartment, and was dealing with the movers who had arrived two days late with the few possessions he’d brought with him. Jayce, as he wrote in his messages to Viktor, was preparing for his return to school. He’d also confessed that his mother, doting as she was, had been keeping him every day, asking him about his travels and time abroad. But they promised to see each other the following weekend, after everything had finally calmed.

It was the first day at the academy, and Viktor arrived in his best wool suit, slightly anxious and sleep-deprived. He’d been preparing his lecture plans, and had lost countless hours of sleep as a result. When he walked into the department staff room, coffee in one hand, cane in the other, he barely registered the other unfamiliar faces.

The dean of the college greeted him warmly. “Viktor, my boy, welcome, welcome! We’re glad to have you on board.”

“Thank you, sir,” Viktor smiled tiredly.

“Let’s walk together to the department meeting. We’re all excited to meet you.” The dean, Heimerdinger, walked with hurried steps toward a conference room. He made idle conversation as the two walked down the hall. Asked about Viktor’s trip, whether the train ride was to his enjoyment (Viktor said very much so), and if he had any questions about the university and the upcoming academic year.

There were already a few staff members seated, and they all glanced up when Viktor and Heimerdinger walked in. “Everyone, good morning,” Heimerdinger greeted them. A chorus of tired hellos echoed back. Heimerdinger looked around, as if searching for something. “Are we missing anyone?”

Just then the door swung open abruptly. “Sorry I’m late!” Someone said from behind him. He froze. The familiar timbre of that voice made him go completely still. His heart raced.

“Jayce, lad, how was your sabbatical?” Heimerdinger asked. Completely unaware of the inner turmoil that Viktor now dealt with.

“It was great, sir. Happy to be back, though.” The sound of his footsteps paused beside Viktor. A chair half pulled out before it too froze. Viktor finally dared look in its direction. Jayce, his Jayce, stared back wide-eyed.

“Ah, yes, Jayce, everyone, allow me to introduce you to our new mechanical engineering professor, Viktor Novak. He just moved to the city, so please be sure to welcome and show him around.” Heimerdinger’s voice was swallowed by the sound of Viktor’s heart hammering in his ears.

“Hi,” he said weakly. Then, realizing where they were and that there were others around them, he finally composed himself. His facial expression returned to one of amicable professionalism. He coughed. “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet everyone.” He looked away from Jayce and sat next to him.

Beside him, Jayce slowly sat down. Others around them greeted Viktor. Jayce himself muttered a ‘hello’ beneath his breath before staring back at his notebook. They were cordial during the rest of the meeting. Allowed Heimerdinger afterwards to further introduce them as he told Viktor of Jayce’s research, and Viktor pretended to be surprised as if he hadn’t already heard every detail of Jayce’s thesis a week prior. As if he hadn’t spent an entire night detailing his focus on artificial organ research. Both he and Jayce acted as if it was all novel to hear.

Then in the afternoon, after Viktor’s first lecture, the door to his office opened and Jayce walked in.

“Hello, Professor Talis .” Viktor grinned.

Jayce clicked the lock behind him and stepped further into the room. “Hello, Professor Novak .” He grinned back.