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The first time Viktor brings it up, it's just after they showered together—something normal, something they do all the time. They're toweling off in comfortable silence, the bathroom warm and humid. Jayce is focused on applying lotion to his skin. He turns with the intent to bully Viktor into allowing him to moisturize him in turn. Instead, he finds Viktor already regarding him with a curious look on his face. Jayce raises his eyebrows in silent question, and Viktor points up at their detachable shower head from where he sits on his shower chair. “When you were younger, did you ever…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Jayce blinks. “Uh…what?”
Viktor chuckles, as if he made a joke. When Jayce’s face doesn't change, though, Viktor gives him an astonished look. Jayce blinks at him. “The shower head? Jayce?”
Jayce stills for a moment to think about what Viktor can possibly mean. Despite his best efforts, he can't come up with anything that warrants an eyebrow wiggle. He shrugs as he hangs up their towels. “I had one when I was younger, yeah. It’s nice, I guess…?” He can’t imagine what people do with detachable shower heads other than shower.
“But you've never, you know…” Viktor makes a vague gesture, as if searching for a specific word, before giving up. “Have you ever masturbated with one?” he asks bluntly.
Jayce coughs, loudly. He can feel his face heating up. “No, I—no! How would you even do that?” How do people even think of these things? He stares at the object in question, turning over the idea in his head. How would someone even masturbate with it? Surely people don't just grind against it, that’s incredibly unsanitary. Though with the front of it—
It finally clicks, and Jayce instantly flushes all the way to the roots of his hair, much to Viktor's amusement. “People do that?” he exclaims.
“Yes, Jayce, people do that.” Viktor watches him for a moment longer before his smile turns sly. “I can show you, if you'd like.”
Jayce wheels around, opening the door. “I'm gonna get our clothes,” he says loudly. He walks away to the sound of Viktor snickering.
Viktor mentions it again days later, right after they both found their release. Liquids are still growing tacky on their bodies when Viktor turns his head to look at him. “About the shower head…”
Jayce blushes and doesn't look at him, but he stays still, waiting to see what Viktor says.
“How did you masturbate then? The old-fashioned way?”
Jayce closes his eyes. He considers ignoring the question. Maybe he doesn't have to share everything with his partner. Maybe he can keep some things to himself.
Except, he can feel Viktor’s eyes bore into him as the man patiently waits for an answer. Jayce sighs and resigns himself to the fact that he can never deny Viktor anything. After taking a moment to emotionally brace himself, he asks, “What is ’the old-fashioned way,’ exactly?”
“Hands,” comes the reply. Viktor's delivery is matter-of-fact. Dry, like they're discussing monthly inventory back at work. “Old reliable, yes?” A pause. “Though sometimes I used a hairbrush.”
Jayce whips around, scandalized. “And you kept using it after?!” he whisper-shouts.
Viktor grins madly at his expression. “Eh, it's fine if you wash it before and after.” He looks conspiratorial again as he adds, “Very good for reaching the G-spot.”
Jayce makes another face, doubtful, before the last sentence catches up to him. “Wait,” he says, face red. “So you used the…”
Viktor regards him fondly for a moment before saying, “The handle, Jayce.”
“...Oh.”
Well, he's definitely never used a hairbrush like that. Nor did he ever think to. He thinks now—a younger Viktor, holding a hairbrush upside down, diligently washing the handle before bringing it down, dripping, positioning it at the opening of his—
Jayce's face flames. He feels perverted just thinking about it. Both about the act, and thinking of his lover this way, even if said lover is currently looking at him with a wicked, knowing glint in his eye.
“You could give it a try,” Viktor says softly. Dangerously. After a moment, he adds, “I could help. Bend you over in the morning after you do your hair.”
Jayce blinks. Immediately, a new fantasy unfurls in Jayce’s mind, playing out like a vintage film projector. He's getting ready for work, the smell of his hair wax in the warm, humid bathroom, standing half-dressed in front of the mirror. Viktor, already dressed in his button-down shirt and slacks, pressing him down over the sink with one hand, the other slowly wrapping slender fingers around his hairbrush. He takes it in hand, bristles first, and brings it down…
Jayce's hips twitch before he can stop himself. Viktor, ever observant, notices and shuffles closer, trailing a finger along Jayce's stomach. His hand reaches Jayce's hips and goes lower, to cup between his legs. There's a moment of charged silence as they both register how wet he is. Viktor's gaze snaps up, and Jayce immediately avoids eye contact.
Viktor doesn't say anything. He just gathers pillows, rearranging them before lying between Jayce’s legs. Jayce obediently spreads them when nudged, carefully watching over the process as Viktor settles on his stomach. Jayce’s poor, abused cock tingles in anticipation.
“Vik. I don't know if I can.”
Viktor just kisses his mound. He then flattens his tongue and drags it from hole to cock. Jayce makes a ragged, punched-out sound, and Viktor smiles smugly. “You can, Jayce. For me.”
In the end, Viktor is right.
The third time the topic comes up, Jayce is once again mentally unprepared. They’re brushing their teeth together, first sharing then fighting over the tap in the singular sink. The entire affair devolves into a tussle that has them each jabbing their toothbrush over the other’s, trying to take up all the water as they rinse toothpaste out of their toothbrushes.
Viktor, exasperated, gives up entirely. Instead, he slams his toothbrush down on the counter and grabs Jayce by the sides, tickling him. Jayce promptly also drops his toothbrush on the counter, before he can drop it on the floor. He flails in Viktor’s arms, doing his best to neither fall over nor accidentally whack his partner. Viktor, for his part, expertly dodges Jayce’s sad attempts to tickle him back.
“Surrender!” Viktor cackles as he dodges yet another attempt.
Jayce gives up on fighting back as the tickling intensifies, squirming away with a slightly hysterical giggle. “Fine! Have the sink!” He gestures toward the sink with both arms, twirling his hands in a campy flourish. “For you, milord.”
Viktor rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches. He sniffs imperiously. “Impertinent.” He rinses first his toothbrush then Jayce’s before trapping the man against the counter. He leans in, until Jayce can no longer lean back. “If I’m your lord, maybe I should discipline you for your insolence, hm?”
He leans in further, tracing his nose against the edge of Jayce’s jaw. Jayce almost stops breathing altogether. He’s surrounded by the scent of sleep and toothpaste and Viktor, something soft and warm and slightly musky. The ends of his lover’s horrendous bed head wave in front of his eyes as Viktor turns to press a kiss to his pulse point. “Too bad we don’t have electric toothbrushes.”
Huh?
“Huh?” Jayce says out loud.
Silence.
Viktor draws back. There’s a mischievous light dancing in his eyes and in the corners of his smile. He wraps his arms around Jayce’s waist, resting his chin on his chest to smile fondly up at him. Jayce absently returns the embrace, still confused.
“You see, Jayce, when someone is very, eh, horny, and has no access to a vibrator, they must…make do.” Viktor watches Jayce, clearly expecting him to put two and two together.
Unfortunately, this time, Jayce can understand exactly what he’s implying.
He can feel heat rising up his neck, threatening to overtake his face. “Is this one of your masturbation things again?” He looks over his shoulder at their toothbrushes with a frown. “Please tell me it’s not the bristles.”
Viktor laughs. “No. Absolutely not. Just the back of it.” He pauses, head tilting in thought. “Well actually, some people may like the bristles.”
Jayce shudders, his thighs clenching against the imagined pain. “Not me. No thank you.” He gives Viktor a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Enough of you being a pervert. We have to go, or we’ll be late.” Viktor pouts, but he lets Jayce go.
He still manages to swat him on the ass on the way out, making Jayce yelp in surprise. “You like that I’m a pervert.”
The fourth time Jayce thinks of unconventional masturbation methods is when he decides to do some research himself, before Viktor catches him off guard again.
He hides out in their bedroom with his laptop, opening a private browser tab. He types into the search bar, “how to masturbate.” The search engine brings up lovely, clinical articles on how to achieve orgasm and the health benefits of masturbation. Helpful, but not what he wants. He wants silly stories about how people masturbated when they were younger and had to be resourceful. Stories about hair brushes and shower heads. Adding “Reddit” to the search query only brings up more guides, this time with more anecdotes and less sanitized language.
Jayce sits there, stumped, trying to think of a better combination of words, when the door opens.
He instantly slams his laptop shut, reflexes honed by two decades of living with his mother.
“Jayce, where is the—” Viktor stops. Registers the sound of a laptop shutting. Takes in Jayce's posture, the tight grip on the laptop lid. Jayce feels like he's being dissected as Viktor leans against the doorframe. He watches him, content to let the silence stretch on.
As always, Jayce breaks first.
“Where's the what?” he asks, aiming for casual and landing somewhere closer to frantic.
“What are you doing?” Viktor asks in return. He is much more successful at sounding calm, though Jayce can see the mischief sparkling in his eyes from across the room.
Jayce blinks. “Nothing.” He mentally bonks himself. Yeah, just say the most suspicious thing possible. “It's a, uh…surprise.”
“Hm.” As expected, Viktor does not look convinced. He draws himself up and walks closer, pointedly maintaining eye contact the entire time. Jayce obliges, though he feels like twitching at each soft tap of Viktor's cane. Finally, he reaches him, extending a hand to tip his chin up. Jayce, in turn, does his damned best to resist the urge to look away. He can already feel blood rushing to his face, incriminating him.
The silence grows deafening before Viktor guffaws at his “deer in headlights” look.
Jayce closes his eyes, mortified.
Cool lips brush his forehead, and the touch disappears from his chin. The sound of Viktor’s cane grows quieter as he retreats. “I look forward to the surprise,” he calls back.
The next day finds Jayce agonizing in the laboratory break room, chair turned to face the corner.
Right. The surprise.
…He has no idea what that will be.
Jayce bonks his forehead against the wall of the break room. Only once, gently, because anything more than that is definitely Not Normal. He presses his forehead against the wall again and groans inwardly. What are his options?
Make dinner? Hardly a surprise. Jayce makes dinner almost everyday. Not because Viktor can’t cook—the man is a walking encyclopedia of Eastern European cuisine. No, Jayce cooks because most days, Viktor can’t be bothered to do much more than dump things into dishes and nuke them in the microwave—both a consequence of the chronic fatigue, and a result of Viktor’s firm belief that food is primarily fuel for the machinery of the body.
Jayce frowns. Maybe he can cook something he doesn't usually make and whip out the candles. Make it a date night in.
Or he can snoop through Viktor's online shopping wishlist. The man rules over both the lab budget and his personal budget with an iron fist, and Jayce has never seen him indulge himself without first going through a convoluted checklist of reasons why he’s allowed it. There's bound to be something Viktor won't buy for himself.
Or Jayce can just teach himself a new dessert recipe.
He nods to himself, feeling better now that he has a gameplan. He removes his head from the wall, turns to face the room—and makes eye contact with Sky, who was clearly watching him freak out with his nose pressed to the wall.
All the good feelings of having a plan evaporate as Jayce dies inside.
“Hey, Sky.” Jayce sits up, arranging his limbs into a casual lounging position. “Were you standing there the whole time?” Jayce flashes a smile and hopes he looks chill. Judging by the look he receives, he does not.
Sky lowers the mug she’s drinking from, but she doesn't stop side-eyeing him. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yup,” Jayce replies automatically. A beat passes. “Actually, has Viktor said he needed anything lately? Like, something he keeps talking about but won't buy.”
The light in Sky’s eyes dims a little as she realizes she's about to be dragged into her bosses’ personal lives again. “I think he said something about a better filament, for the 3D printer,” she offers neutrally. There's a moment of silence as Jayce processes her answer. Not quite what he means. He opens his mouth to clarify, but she glances at her wrist and waves her mug at him apologetically. “Oh, sorry, I need to go pick up some samples. Good luck!”
Jayce nods distractedly as she leaves. A better filament. So, nothing. Looks like he'll have to go with the recipe. Or the stay-in date.
It isn't until Jayce tidies up and leaves the break room that he realizes two things. One, Sky wasn't wearing a watch. Two, they already received their sample models last week.
The sound of the front door opening grabs Jayce's attention. He pops his head out of the kitchen to see Viktor toeing off his shoes in the entryway.
“Viktor!” He beams and waves, despite the mere feet between them. He can’t help it. The sight of Viktor coming home always fills Jayce with happiness. He loves watching his partner’s metaphorical shell melt away as the man sheds his outside clothes and settles into the nearest soft surface. Today is no exception as Viktor throws his coat at the wall hooks and collapses on the couch. A smothered question reaches Jayce a moment later.
“What?” Jayce approaches the sofa. Viktor is face down, long limbs sprawled from one end to the other. Tiredness radiates from his wiry form. He doesn’t move an inch as Jayce draws closer. Jayce takes in the sight of his partner, and his mouth twists in sympathy.
So it’s one of those days.
Viktor makes another noise, and Jayce crouches down to hear him.
“What are you making?” Viktor’s voice is rough and quiet, exhaustion making his accent thicker.
Knowing Jayce’s need for physical touch, he reaches a hand out, palm up on the sofa cushion, opening and closing his fingers in a low-effort grabbing motion. Jayce melts at the endearing gesture as he obliges and slips his hand into Viktor’s. “Well, it's done, but…dinner.” He pauses, hesitating, before adding, “I was going to bring out the candles, but we can do that some other time.” He doesn’t want to add the last part, but Viktor will definitely notice that dinner is more extravagant today.
As expected, his statement gets Viktor’s attention, and he flops his head around to squint at Jayce. That sliver of gold still holds enough power to make Jayce regret his words even more. He plunks his chin on the couch cushion next to his partner, unable to fully prevent himself from pouting. He already knows what's about to happen. “Viktor, no. You’re tired. You even stayed late today.”
Viktor glares at him. “You already made everything.”
“No.”
“Jayce.”
“Viktor.”
They stare at each other, Viktor’s stubbornness against Jayce’s pout as always. The “kicked puppy look,” as Viktor put it. He always accuses Jayce of weaponizing it, as if it's something Jayce can control. He tries to intensify it now, hoping Viktor will succumb. Seconds pass before Viktor huffs and turns his face away. Though he doesn’t say or do anything else, Jayce can sense the impending mood drop. He sighs and squeezes his hand. “Viktor.” No answer.
He lowers his head and very lightly bumps it against Viktor's. “It's fine. Really.”
Still no answer, though Jayce expects as much. Viktor rarely believes him when he says things are fine. Even after years of knowing each other, he never quite believes when Jayce insists he's a gift and not a burden.
“We can still eat what I made,” Jayce insists. “It can still be a date, just a different type of date.”
More silence.
“We can watch a movie. I made cinnamon rolls.”
Finally, Viktor makes a quiet sound of concession. Jayce beams and drops a kiss on the crown of his head.
He’s walking away when Viktor quietly says, “I’d rather eat what your mom made.”
“Viktor!”
Viktor gets his revenge a few days later.
Jayce knows it’s coming. Viktor has an almost pathological need to “repay” any kindness deemed too large, too important. In the beginning of their relationship, it was a constant point of contention—Jayce too willing to give, Viktor unwilling to take, misunderstandings often arising from two very different approaches to life. Nowadays, Jayce usually just lets it run its course…sometimes to his own detriment.
Like now.
The two of them are in the shower. Jayce stands, huddled as far away as he can. Viktor sits, detachable shower head in hand and a frightening amount of determination on his face.
“Jayce,” he coos. “Let me reward you.”
“I was just doing what anyone would do! Put that down!”
Viktor pouts—honest to God pouts—and wiggles the offending device, splashing water on his partner in the process. “It’s a perfectly natural thing, Jayce. Many people do it. Now, come. Let me…show you.”
Jayce’s eyes flit from Viktor’s face to the shower head to the stall door. He knows he can just leave, that Viktor will back off the moment he’s truly uncomfortable…but he trusts Viktor, has since the moment they met.
So in the end, Jayce lets out a tense breath and steps closer.
Immediately, a hand smooths up his hip, followed by a kiss. “Are you sure?” Golden eyes stare up at him, too close to groin height to help Jayce’s rising heart rate.
Jayce squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “Yeah.”
Another kiss, this time between his hip bones, right above his mound. “Good boy.” Viktor shuffles in his seat, patting the space next to him. “Leg up.”
Jayce obeys, one hand reaching out for the grab bar and the other bracing against a wall. He watches as Viktor tests the temperature on the back of his own hand before bringing the spray to his standing leg. Viktor presses a kiss to his bent knee. “Okay?”
Jayce nods sharply.
Those thick eyebrows immediately draw together in a frown. “Out loud,” Viktor reminds him.
Jayce takes a breath and does his best to push through the reflexive mess of embarrassment and anxiety. “I’m…okay.”
Viktor watches him for a moment longer before raising the shower head to his thigh. Jayce wants to squirm away. He doesn’t, though he breaks eye contact to look down.
Viktor’s slim hand cups his hip, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into his skin. His other hand holds the shower head steady, raising it a few inches closer to the center of Jayce’s thighs.
He feels warm, too warm for this humid shower stall. His heart is pounding, his mind going gooey, but anxiety still spikes sharply through the fog. There’s heat pooling between his legs, where he’s spread so obscenely, and his chest feels tight. He both wants to snap his legs shut and spread them further, to lean into Viktor’s touch and to scramble to the far corner of the stall. He does neither, instead doing his best not to jump when the water reaches the top of his thigh.
He jumps a little anyway. Viktor makes a sound and leans into Jayce’s line of sight. His eyebrows lift in question as the hand on his hip pats comfortingly. Jayce starts nodding before he catches himself. “Y-yeah, keep going. Do it.”
Viktor presses a kiss to his skin before he leans back.
The water washes over one side of his folds. It's gentle, to get him used to the sensation. Viktor directs it up and around, careful not to get it too close to his cock, and Jayce shivers when it gets close to the hood. He still feels too exposed, practically flayed open, but the need for Viktor to touch him quickly grows. A whine tears out of him before he can stop it.
Viktor's grinning up at him when he looks.
“So pretty, my Jayce,” he murmurs. Another kiss to the hip, his abdomen, before Viktor presses a hand to the inside of his knee. “Stay open for me, hm?” Then he moves the shower head.
Bright pleasure bursts from his cock, and if it weren't for the hand, Jayce would close his bent leg. His leg jerks anyway, only for Viktor's grip to turn to steel in warning. Viktor says something, but Jayce is too busy processing the sensation between his legs to parse what his partner is telling him.
He becomes aware that he's moving his hips, circling them up and around to direct the stream where he needs it. He stops and looks guiltily at Viktor, only to see the man watching him with hungry eyes.
Viktor looks up when Jayce stills. “Keep going.” Golden eyes burn into Jayce. “Take what you need.”
Jayce shivers but obeys the order, closing his eyes and allowing his hips to move. Viktor's hand remains on his knee to keep his legs open. The pleasure, the position, and the humid heat quickly combine to make him feel feverish. He approaches his orgasm appallingly quickly. The pace of his hips pick up. “Close,” he gasps.
“Go ahead, come for me.”
Jayce gasps again and moves faster, chasing the sensations until his peak crashes over him with a brutality that leaves him breathless. His legs shake, but the water doesn't stop. “Viktor!”
“Keep going.” Viktor looks up at him, hand and gaze steady, hips visibly grinding on the seat of his chair. “You're doing so well, Jayce.”
“I can't…mmh.” He can't stop himself from attempting to pull away, only for Viktor to chase after him with the water. He shudders violently. “Viktor, please.” Harsh shocks flash through him each time Viktor manages to catch him with the water. Still, he doesn't close his legs, and Viktor doesn't relent. Jayce just watches, helpless, as those golden eyes devour him.
The overstimulation edges back into pleasure, and Jayce stops trying to run from Viktor. He hangs his head in resignation as his hips pick up the rhythm again. “Touch me…please?”
Viktor makes a sound, pretending to consider it. The hand on his knee gives a firm pat—a reminder to stay open—before it slides up his thigh and moves under the water, to his hole. Jayce moans as clever fingers rub against him. They brush his cock, making him jerk forward, before slipping inside. He moans again in appreciation, oversensitive nerves ablaze. Viktor pumps in and out a few times, teasing, before he quickly finds what he's looking for, crooks his fingers, and proceeds to take Jayce apart.
The slick shower walls reverberate with the sounds of Jayce quickly approaching his second orgasm. The noises falling out of his mouth are obscenely loud now, gasps and moans bouncing off the walls as Viktor maintains steady water pressure and a relentless pace. He squirms in place, voice cracking, trying desperately to keep his legs upright and open. He can feel himself pulsing, overworked muscles frantically clamping down on those long, elegant fingers. His vision swims.
“Good, Jayce, so good for me,” he hears faintly. Chapped lips brush against his skin in a kiss, and Jayce comes again with a shout. This time his legs wobble dangerously, and he somehow manages to lower himself to his knees in a controlled fall.
“Jayce,” Viktor groans. He leans back in his chair and spreads his legs, the shower head forgotten on the floor. “Continue?”
Jayce nods. He follows Viktor's guiding hands as they thread through his damp hair, pulling him to where his partner needs him. The first lick to Viktor's cock draws a throaty moan, and Jayce takes to his task with renewed energy. He wraps his lips around his lover, sucking and bobbing his head, dipping down to lick at him, letting his partner grind on his face and tongue.
Viktor's breathing grows harsher, his pace more frantic. His nose is filled with Viktor’s musk, his ears awash with breathless whines. He keeps his tongue out, surrendering fully as Viktor takes his pleasure.
Viktor comes, his thighs shaking and snapping shut around Jayce's head. His moans fill Jayce’s ears, and Jayce’s own cock gives a valiant twitch. He closes his lips around Viktor again, giving a light suck just to hear the gutted noise he draws from his lover. He continues licking until a hand comes down and pushes insistently against his forehead. He pulls back obediently, laying his head on a pale thigh to catch his breath.
For a while, the only noises are their panting and the sounds of water running down the drain.
–×–
Later, after an actual shower and some assisted stretching—which turned into round two—they collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.
“My dick hurts,” Jayce complains.
Viktor snorts. “No it doesn't.”
Jayce gasps in offense. He buries his face between Viktor's neck and shoulder, shaking his head like a madman to rasp his stubble against the man's skin, easily ignoring the way Viktor flails against him. “Okay, it doesn't, but I can feel my heartbeat—don't!” He grabs the hand inching its way down his torso. “No more, you asshole.”
Viktor blinks innocently up at him before a smug grin overtakes his expression. He shifts, propping his head up on his other hand. “So, Jayce. Now that you’ve experienced the shower head, what do you think?”
Jayce rolls his eyes. “I still like hands better,” he mumbles.
“Really? Why? Because it's what you're used to?” Viktor looks actually intrigued.
Jayce stares up at his partner, deadpan expression on his face before he shakes his head. “No, Viktor. I like your hands. I like when you touch me.”
Viktor blinks in surprise before looking away at his words, and Jayce watches in astonishment when, out of everything they did today, this causes Viktor to blush.
Jayce can't stop his incredulous laugh, though he makes up for it by sitting up to kiss Viktor. Then he kisses his red cheeks, then those cute pink ears, following the blush down to his collarbones. Viktor falls back to the bed under the onslaught, laughing, shoving lightly at him. “Enough.”
Jayce leaves one last peck on his nose before he draws back to lay his head down.
“What about the other methods?” Viktor asks suddenly.
“What? No.”
“Jayce, we must test thoroughly.”
“No.”
Silence. Jayce can feel Viktor’s eyes on the side of his face. He thinks back to the fantasy of getting ready for work, only for Viktor to bend him over. Jayce’s cheeks grow hot.
“...Maybe.”