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Everything had been going according to plan. The weather had even cooperated—sunshine with a gentle breeze keeping the heat at bay. Jayce couldn’t ask for more, but he wasn’t taking any chances. This needed to be perfect. Viktor had been so patient these past weeks, never once pressuring him about the ultrasound results folded in the envelope that would determine the color hidden beneath that pristine frosting. Jayce couldn't bear the thought of disappointing his husband after all this waiting.
He had planned it to a T: a lovely picnic in Piltover Memorial Park beneath their favorite oak tree, complete with Viktor's hand-woven picnic basket and the vintage tablecloth they'd found at that flea market in Zaun. The centerpiece was a white-frosted cake from a nearby bakery, its exterior deceptively simple with just a dusting of edible silver glitter. Inside those vanilla layers, hidden beneath smooth buttercream, was the secret they'd been waiting weeks to reveal—a pink or blue sponge that would announce their future. All they needed to do was take out the crystal champagne glasses, gifted from Jayce's mother, and Viktor would finally see whether his husband was carrying their baby girl or boy.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Lasko,” Viktor says as he sits on the picnic table. Sitting on the ground would’ve been too difficult for either of them to stand from. He admires Jayce’s handiwork laid out before him—the thin tablecloth with the cake and some light snacks on top. The cake was topped with peach slices and blueberries, two fruits Jayce had been craving for most of the pregnancy.
“Yeah, well…” Jayce squeezes his husband's hand, feeling the familiar ridge of his wedding band. “I did my best.”
“It’s perfect.” Viktor's smile catches the sunlight, his amber eyes glowing in that way that always made Jayce's heart skip. Jayce runs a palm over his growing belly, hoping their little one would inherit those eyes. Truthfully, he would be more than ecstatic for a Viktor clone. Picking a donor hadn’t been easy. After all, it would define half their baby’s DNA. They were stunned to find a donor who looked so much like Viktor; they started to question whether he had a secret twin out there.
Jayce stares down at his hands, which fidget with the edge of his sleeve. The sunlight catches the gold of his wedding band, and his voice snags in his throat, “It’s the least I could do.” His shoulders hunch slightly, protective. “I mean, you've been so patient and kind all this time, I-” He swallows the rest of his sentence, the words sticking in his throat like honey.
“Hush,” Viktor interrupts, “You're growing our child. My patience is nothing compared to what you're giving us, my heart.” He presses his lips to Jayce's knuckles, and Jayce responds by dotting Viktor's forehead with gentle kisses.
Jayce's fingers thread through his husband’s dark curls as he leans closer. “I wanted this to mean something,” he murmurs, voice wavering slightly. “For both of us. We don't get moments like this every day.”
Viktor nods, his eyes soft with anticipation. “I've been counting down the days since that positive test—since our little one first appeared on the monitor.”
Their path to parenthood had been fraught with heartbreak. For two years, they'd weathered the storm of negative tests and lost pregnancies—the most recent one stealing their baby when Jayce's belly had already grown round with promise. They'd agreed: one final attempt before exploring adoption. That's when the two pink lines appeared. Still, joy felt dangerous, almost forbidden. Jayce had hesitated about planning this gender reveal, afraid to invest hope in something that might dissolve like morning mist. But his mother's gentle encouragement had pushed him forward. He needed Viktor to see that despite everything, his heart remained open—ready to welcome their child into the world they'd built and would keep building.
Viktor's eyes soften as he grabs his champagne flute. “The moment of truth,” he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips against Jayce's temple. “Let's find out who our little one is going to be.”
They pull the glasses out of the cake, both hearts racing for very different reasons. Pulling them from the cake and…
Viktor blinks, “It’s brown.”
Jayce stares at the cake, his words sticking in his throat. “But I specifically asked for—I didn't—” The sentence dissolves into silence.
Viktor's laugh comes out strained as he swipes a finger through the frosting on his plate. “Not quite what you had in mind, I take it?” Jayce barely registers the question. His mind spirals through calculations of disaster—the centerpiece of his perfectly engineered evening had just collapsed like a failed experiment, and with it, all his meticulous plans.
Viktor catches the shadow crossing Jayce's face, the slight tremble in his lower lip. "Hey," he says softly, reaching across the picnic table to squeeze Jayce's forearm. “What matters is that you tried. I'm grateful for that.”
Jayce's eyes remain fixed on some distant point, Viktor's words not registering. "I failed," he whispers, voice cracking slightly. "The one thing I was supposed to do, and I couldn't even manage that.”
Viktor hesitates before reaching for Jayce's hands, his fingers stopping midair before finally making contact. "Jayce." His accent grows thick with emotion, eyes not quite meeting his partner's. "Do not fret. Your intentions were clear enough."
Jayce's fingers twist in his hair, gaze fixed on the floor. “I promised to show you what our baby is, and I didn't. I wanted it to be perfect, but I ruined it.”
Viktor reaches for Jayce's hand once again, but pulls back. “It is just cake, my heart.” He winces at his own words. “No, that is not—I mean—” He exhales sharply, torn between comforting Jayce and acknowledging the hurt. “How about you show me the ultrasound instead? You can write it on the back. We do not need the cake.”
Jayce slams his palm against the table. “That's not the fucking point, Viktor.” His voice crackles, eyes burning with unshed tears. “It's not just about the cake. This was supposed to be—” His fingers dig into his scalp, yanking at strands of hair. “We haven't gotten this far since the last one and now it's all—”
“Jayce, do not go there." Viktor seizes Jayce's wrists with surprising strength, wrenching them away from his hair. “I understand you wanted this to be special, but I cannot comprehend why you are destroying yourself over this.”
“Because I messed up!” Jayce exclaims, snatching his trembling hands away and burying his face in them, his shoulders hunching forward as if to shield himself from the world. “I tried. I really tried to make this special. I wanted to show you how much this means to me like I know how it means so much to you.” His voice frays on the last word, and hot tears spilled over his lashes, tracking down his flushed cheeks. The bustling park around them fades into background noise as Jayce's breath hitches with each sob, oblivious to the curious glances from others nearby. Viktor hardly hesitates before pulling Jayce close to him, one hand cradling the back of his husband's neck, guiding Jayce's head to rest in the familiar hollow between his shoulder and collarbone. The soft fabric of Viktor's sweater absorbs the tears as he let Jayce cry it out, his thin fingers tracing soothing circles on Jayce's back—a well-practiced comfort from the many times before when Jayce's perfectionism had crashed against reality.
Viktor holds Jayce against his chest, feeling each sob reverberate through both their bodies until they gradually soften and ebb out into hiccups. A knot had formed in his throat as he stroked his husband's hair, watching the man who was carrying their child crumble under the weight of something that should have brought only joy. As much as Viktor's analytical mind races through potential solutions, cataloging them like formulas in his lab notebook, he knows that fixing things wasn't what Jayce needed right now. He needs the sanctuary of Viktor's thin but steady arms, permission to crumble without judgment. This emotional vulnerability—this raw, messy honesty—was something they had both struggled with through years of miscommunications that had nearly torn them apart like poorly stitched fabric. Viktor's gaze drifts to the cake, its pristine frosting marred by two circular indentations where their champagne flutes had stood. Beneath the white icing, dark chocolate seems to taunt them. Jayce finally breaks their embrace, his face a mess of tears that caught in his beard, eyes swollen and refusing to meet Viktor's. Viktor studies his husband for a moment before his attention returns to the dessert, where slices of vibrant fruit glisten under the sunlight.
His eyes light up suddenly. “Wait—I know.” With gentle fingers, he brushes away the wetness from Jayce's cheeks before reaching toward the cake. He plucks a slice of peach from the frosting, then a plump blueberry. Jayce sniffles and drags his sleeve across his face, looking puzzled.
Extending his hands, Viktor presents the two fruits like tiny offerings. “Choose one to feed me,” he says softly. “The peach means we'll have a daughter. The blueberry, a son.”
Jayce looks at Viktor with an odd expression, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed to the side. The familiar crease between his brows—the one that appears whenever he was puzzling through a complex equation—is noticeably absent. He knows that the two of them are very 'fix it immediately' kinds of people when it comes to their issues, but something about this feels more lighthearted and not so…analytical like things usually were.
Despite trying to appear serious, Jayce breaks and snickers while wiping the last of his tears from his flushed cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "You're ridiculous. You know that?" Even so, he takes both fruits—the small blueberry and the peach slice—as Viktor closes his eyes and opens his mouth, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the trees catching on his long eyelashes. Hands nearly shaking with anticipation, Jayce lifts one and feeds Viktor, the sweet juice of the fruit glistening on his fingertips.
Viktor's eyes shoot open as the flavor of peach fills his mouth, the sweetness bursting across his tongue. "We're having a girl?!" he exclaims, voice cracking with emotion. Jayce's toothy grin is a beautiful display before him as he nods excitedly, dimples appearing in his cheeks. Viktor nearly throws himself at his husband, eyes brimming with tears that threaten to spill over as his arms wrap tightly around Jayce, fingers clutching the soft fabric of his shirt.
The two of them hold each other tightly on the picnic table, leaves swirling around their feet as tears track down their faces—Viktor's of pure joy, Jayce's mingled with relief. Viktor's hands tremble as he presses his lips to Jayce's forehead, his eyelids, the curve of his jaw, whispering "a girl" between each kiss like a prayer. Jayce cradles the back of Viktor's neck, feeling the familiar warmth there as he pulls him closer, the half-eaten slice of peach—their impromptu gender reveal after the bakery's mix-up—still clutched in his other hand. For the first time since they'd lost the last pregnancy, the small swell of Jayce's fourteen-week belly between them feels like a promise rather than a fear, and they surrender to the fragile hope taking root. They are having a baby girl, and the knowledge fills their chests with a buoyant, terrifying happiness. It takes a good while before they settle down, touching foreheads and intertwining their fingers, Viktor's slender ones contrasting with Jayce's broader hands.
“Our little peach,” Jayce murmurs, pulling back slightly as Viktor's hand found his growing belly. “She's about that size now, isn't she?”
Viktor kisses him softly. “Then 'Peach' she'll be—at least until we settle on a proper name.”
“We could decide right now,” Jayce suggests.
Viktor's lips curl into a playful smile. “In that case, I nominate 'Viktorie.'”
“Peach it is,” Jayce says flatly, making Viktor laugh in that way that always made his chest tighten with love. The future they've been afraid to imagine is finally taking shape.