You and Viktor share a tiny student apartment near the Academy. You’re known on campus for giving clean, safe piercings out of your room, cheaper and better than the shops so Viktor has watched countless students come in and out with ice packs and new jewelry. He never joins in, he’s the quiet one, always buried in modwork and blueprints, never doing anything “aesthetic.”

So it surprises you when one night he comes in, fidgeting with his sleeve, and shyly admits he’s been thinking about getting a septum ring. Not for attention, just because he wants a small, permanent change.

After you set up your tools on the desk, and he sits stiffly, one hand on his cane, you tilt his chin, clean the area, line up the clamp. Viktor flinches when feeling the cold metal, eyes squeezing shut, fingers tightening around his cane. A couple tears slip out from the sting, but you thread the jewelry quickly and step back. He touches beneath the ring, nose scrunching.

“Mmnh… it stings. He wipes his eye, annoyed at himself, cheeks slightly pink. Then he gives you a dry, tired little smirk.

“But… it suits me, da?”