CW for bad coping mechanisms, alcohol use, vaguely sort of dubcon (?) - and also this is again a sex scene lol

He hears the quiet footsteps of Silco entering the room, though he doesn't raise his head, trying to get to the end of the page he was thumbing through before he forgets what it was about–

He jumps slightly as a slender hand runs up his arm, touch cool against his bare skin, before his lover leans in to press a kiss to his temple. His breath smells strongly of whiskey, and Vander would have thought it meant his afternoon meeting didn't go so well, if there wasn't that slight smile on Silco's face, crinkling his good eye at the corner.

"Hi again." He leans onto the desk, planting his hand just on what Vander was reading. "It was nice yesterday evening. I didn't tell you yet."

"I'm… glad you liked it. It crossed my mind that we never really went on a date."

"We sort of did? When we were kids. You took me to climb the old clock tower, and I showed you the ruins of Old Zaun."

"Those weren't romantic dates."

Silco shrugs.

"What's the difference?"

"Did you wanted me to be your lover, back then?"

"Fuck, we were kids. No. I wanted you to be my friend or whatever. Someone I could be close to." A slight pause, then: "You're the only one I have ever been. Close to. Apart from Jinx, but that's obviously not the same."

They have had that conversation before, or a similar one. Back then, Silco had already talked about the… exclusivity of his feelings, that he only ever felt romantic love once, but Vander didn't quite believe him. Now… now, he does.

Otherwise, how could they be there, together in this office, despite everything that has happened?

"It would have been better for you," he says out loud. "If you could have moved past me, after… you know. This is not an apology," he adds preemptively, half-joking only.

Silco cocks his head to the side, a smirk playing at the edge of his scarred lips. He hooks his foot behind Vander's knee, drawing him closer without a word, putting both hands over his hips possessively.

"I see I've taught you well, pet."

Oh. Oh. Vander wills his erection away, cheeks heating up, but the hand suddenly cupping it isn't helping.

"Sil…?"

"What?"

Silco is looking up at him, almost innocently, the pupil of his good eye blown wide enough that the sea-green is but a ring. Vander feels like he has been thrown back years in the past. This is disconcerting.

"Are you drunk?" he finally asks.

"A bit."

"But… weren't you at a meeting?"

"Hmm-mh." His smile comes back, flashing a bit of his chipped teeth. "It went well."

If they were still young, that would be all the explanation Vander needed. He has learned that Silco usually doesn't really care much for sex, sees it more as a mean than an end, but also that victory rarely fails to get him in the mood. It could almost make him jealous, that Zaun usually is more successful at getting his lover aroused than himself, if he wasn't the one reaping the fruits in the end.

"Why the alcohol, then?" he can't help but ask.

"Helps me relax."

Vander winces at that. They would have to have a little talk about coping mechanisms– but not now, because there is Silco's body suddenly pressed against him, lips crashing against his and tongue already slipping in. Despite the years passed, he is just as weak to his lover's body as he has always been. He places his hands over his narrow waist, marveling at the way they almost his fingers almost touch over Silco's spine, squeezing slightly.

"What do you want, love?"

"Pick me up."

His voice is slightly hoarse, going straight to Vander's cock, and he doesn't waste time in complying, hoisting Silco up against the wall. Without as much as a hesitation, thin legs wrap around his torso, arms around his neck, teeth scraping at the side of it, making him shudder.

"Fuck, Sil…"

"That's the plan."

He squeezes one of his ass cheeks – his bones, really – in retaliation for running his mouth, earning a surprised squeal that he immediately silences by pressing their mouths together, hard, almost bruising. Silco's cock is pressed into Vander's stomach and he distinctly felt it twitching in response. He grins into their kiss.

"Couch?" he suggests when they have to pull away to breathe.

He gets a groan in agreement and, readjusting his grip over the bony thighs, waddles to the couch. He sits down heavily, manhandling Silco so he fits perfectly onto his lap, each roll of his hips rubbing their cocks together. He tries to clumsily undo the clasps on Silco's vest, gives up and takes his own shirt instead. When he gets it over his head, he's greeted by the view of Silco shrugging the waistcoat off, nimble fingers immediately coming back to unbutton the red shirt. Vander reclines, enjoying the show, each button revealing a bit more of skin. Silco's clothes look like armor sometimes, and it's all the more delightful to see him shedding it off.

"Can I touch you?" he asks softly when Silco is done with his shirt, vaguely folding it and putting it away on the coffee table.

"Please do."

It takes a bit of maneuvering in the tight space of the couch, but he lays Silco down, straddling him, one knee between his narrow body and the back of the couch, the other close to sliding off, and he leans in for another kiss. He tastes whiskey again, and it suddenly crosses his mind that it might come across as menacing, looming over his partner like that, so he pulls away just to ask:

"You're comfortable?"

Silco crosses his arms over his lower back, tugging him back down, so that's a yes, right?

"Are we taking this slow?" he still asks.

"I want you."

Vander huffs a laugh.

"I know that. But am I sticking my cock in you as soon as possible, or are we taking our time?"

Silco's brow furrows slightly at this point.

"I… don't have lube there," he gets out just as Vander is about to ask him what's the matter.

"Not making a habit of fucking men in your office, eh?"

"We didn't… you and I weren't exactly at this point before now," Silco answers slowly – no hint that he understood this was just meant as teasing. It's increasingly clear that he's out of it, at least a little, that he drank enough to muddy his thoughts. A part of Vander's brain thinks it should bother him. But his lover is lying underneath him, half-undressed, body offered, and if he turns him down now, who's to say when the next occasion would be? He wants to show Silco that he can still take care of him. That his touch can be pleasurable.

"There are other men than me, Sil."

"But I only want you."

"That's good to hear, love. Because I–" He pauses to kiss him, a brief peck on his lips. "–don't wanna share."

His fingers are working on the fly of Silco's pants, one button after the other, before he can begin to tug them down. He sits back, hoisting his lover's hips up with one hand until he can get them off completely. He huffs a laugh at the sock garters, tugs a finger underneath the elastic band and makes it snap back against the skin.

He catches Silco's ankle just before his heel could connect with his ribs.

"Eh, no kicking, darling."

Silco starts to say something, but his words dissolve into a surprised moan as Vander bends down to lick at the head of his cock. He's leaking precum already, the salty taste tingling on Vander's tongue.

"Please…"

Vander straightens back up, his hands framing Silco's hips, both thumbs rubbing circles into his skin.

"Please what?" he says without taking his eyes off the view. Then, as the answer doesn't come: "Ah, if you don't know, I will just do whatever I want."

"And what would that be?"

Silco's hand comes up, caressing his beard before tangling in his hair. Vander groans, more aroused that he would like to admit at this point. His cock strains against the confines of his clothes, but that only adds to the fun, doesn't it? To restrain himself while he takes the time to pleasure his lover.

He leans down, kissing around one of his nipples. Abdominal muscles twitch under his palm, then contract as he tongues at the sensitive bud. He plays with the other, rolling it around two fingers, grinning to himself as Silco moans. He has always like how vocal his partner can be during sex, when he lets himself go. How reactive he is to the slightest touch.

His kisses travel up, over the slight depression of Silco's sternum, then the scar running across half his upper chest, to his sculpted collarbones. He sucks a mark there, delicately, then another just on the point, next to the dip where his heart beats just below the delicate skin. Silco's nails scratch his scalp as he makes another noise, more breathless, more high-pitched. The encouragement emboldens him to nibble at the side of his lover's neck, teasing, as his left hand pinches his nipple more meanly.

Three taps over his arm– Vander freezes, guilt creeping into his throat. What did he do wrong? Silco almost never used his safeword, before, and back then it always made Vander feel sort of satisfied, pleased to have found his partner's limits. Now, he hastily motions to straighten up, but Silco's hand curls around his biceps instead, a silent demand to stay in place.

"Don't touch my neck. But please continue."

Vander exhales shakily, then forces a smile back onto his lips. He leans back in, his breath ghosting over the shell of Silco's ear, before whispering:

"Oh, you did not just try and give me an order, did you?"

This elicits an exhale almost like a whine, and Silco's back arches a little off the couch.

"And what if– ah, what if I did?"

Silco tries to kiss him, but he can't quite reach, and elects to mouth at his shoulder instead, teeth barely grazing the golden skin. Vander grabs his chin roughly, forcing him to face him again.

"It's not your place to give orders now, darling."

He pulls away for just a second, enjoying the way Silco's brow furrows and his lips part around a protestation, before he takes his cock in his hand and gives it a few hard tugs. Silco keens.

"Better."

He lets his hands trail up his lover's torso, admiring the olive skin, scars an inlaid work of precious ivory over brass and bronze, tattoo ink wrapping around one side of his ribcage. He still has that sinewy definition to his arms despite the more sedentary life, discrete strength made to climb up, but the skin is now softer around his stomach, a few diaphanous lines where it stretched – it's a body that has begun to age, and Vander loves it even more for it. He never thought they could have that.

He pushes Silco's long legs further apart, settling more comfortably between them before taking his cock in his mouth. It's been so long since he has done that, but it's as easy as ever to fall into the perfect rhythm. He knows this body by heart, older or not; he knows how it reacts and how it likes to be loved.

Silco arches against him, nails digging into his broad shoulders, before he comes with a moan that sounds a lot like Vander's name.

He gives his cock one last lick, enjoying the twitch of oversensitivity, before settling back over Silco, careful not to put his whole weight on his small frame. He waits for him to catch his breath, lazily mouthing at his chest, shoulder, before Silco starts to stir again and Vander reaches up to kiss him, slow and languid, letting him taste himself. He kisses the side of his lips, the two notches on the upper one, then higher up, the scarred cheek, and then his temple. He cups his face with one hand, running his fingertips over the shaved undercut, still trying to get used to the new feeling.

"What, miss… um, miss my long hair?"

"I liked it. But this suits you too." His thumb slides down, over the sharp angle of Silco's cheekbone. "Makes your features stand out more."

"Hmm." Mismatched eyes flicker up to his face, and Silco smiles. "I like your beard too."

His fingers trail down Vander's side, idly following the silvery path of an old scar, before dipping slightly into the side of his stomach.

"You look tamer."

Vander catches his wrist, circling it easily with one big hand.

"Yeah, you sure haven't put any weight on. Still got your bird bones and all."

He squeezes slightly – and there is something that flickers on Silco's face, for the briefest moment, that makes Vander's heart painfully constrict.

"Silco."

"Hmm?"

"Do you…" He hesitates – wondering if he really wants to hear the answer – but he has to know, so he presses on: "Even now, even with the alcohol, are you still… wary of me?"

"Yes."

There was not even the slightest pause. Vander lets go of his wrist, looking away. He only sees out of the corner of his eye the way Silco tilts his head, still looking right at him.

"What?"

"I'm… I'm sure it would not come as a surprise to you that this is a little bit of a turn-off."

Silco only blinks, looking, in fact, surprised.

"I didn't think it would bother you."

"You…" Vander pauses, at a loss for words for a second. "You didn't think that I would mind that my partner is scared of me? Of fucking course, it bothers me! Sil, I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late for that," Silco hisses.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, the lines around his mouth hardening, no trace of the previous smile and softness. They are talking about what he probably considers as a weakness, of course he would jump to the offensive.

"So, what now? I want this, rest assured, you're not forcing me. Is that enough for your little conscience to be at peace?"

"Silco."

It's a warning, his voice clipped as he fights down the swell of anger underneath his ribs – a warning that Silco completely disregards, baring his teeth in a snarl.

"Come on, do you want to get laid or not? Aren't you dying to – after all, you have restrained yourself for my sake yesterd– hmm!"

Vander has pressed his palm against his mouth, cutting his sentence short. Silco's hands reach up to fight his grip, but he catches and pins both wrists above his head.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"

He's breathing heavily now, staring Silco down. Anger swirls around the flames of desire, and Vander pulls away his hand just long enough to unzip his pants and free his cock, spreading the precum over the length of it, before coming back to cover Silco's mouth, narrowly avoiding getting bit now that the other was expecting it.

"I've listened to you enough already. You want me to fuck you, right? Then shut up and let me." He shifts, trying to not put too much weight on his hands as he adjusts to place his cock in between Silco's thighs. "I know I'm more to blame here, I know I was shit at managing my temper, I know I betrayed you and I will never forgive myself for that."

He has found an angle that works, and he's beginning to thrust, forcing Silco to keep his legs close together with his own knees planted firmly on each side.

"I hate that I've hurt you this much, and that we have lost so much time, and I hate that you're still scared of me. But Janna be damned, Silco, you're not just a victim either, and you don't get to snap at me like that and walk all over me. I'm not the only one at fault."

He can feel his partner's muscles twitching underneath the skin of his inner thighs, pressed around his cock. At any other time, he would find this hot, the hurriedness of it all, no lube or preparation needed, just the primal search for immediate pleasure. Right now, he barely registers it.

"You're an arrogant asshole that thinks he knows better than everyone else. You don't. Not always. And even so, it wouldn't give you the right to look down on all of us. I–" His voice falters, a sudden surge of pleasure blurring his thoughts. "I should never have hit you. But damn, you hurt me too, and you knew exactly what you were doing. I could blame you for the deaths of my kids. I could blame you for a lot more."

He releases Silco, gripping instead the back of the couch, searching for leverage to get the perfect angle.

"You're not– fuck, you're not a good person."

He's close to his release, muscles too shaky to resist his partner – or he didn't really try to – and they are face to face now, Vander sitting with Silco's pelvic bones digging into his thighs, his gaze snapping from a teal eye to the ember-black one. A slender hand has closed around his cock, anything but gentle, thumb toying with his head as his grip tightens.

"Oh no, I'm not," he croons, breath hot against Vander's skin. "But neither are you."

He starts to jerk him off, hard and fast, and Vander forgets what he wanted to say, slumping against Silco, finding the familiar slot at the junction of his shoulder and neck. Scarred lips ghost over his temple, almost kissing but not quite.

"We have been made into monsters, you and I. It was the only way. But it's okay. That makes us fit together." His teeth graze the sensitive skin. "You're mine. My monster."

Vander moans, a broken, breathless sound, as his muscles lock into place.

"My Hound."

He comes with a small cry.

It feels like all the tension, all his energy, has been drained out with his release. He's light-headed, his pulse felt throughout his whole body. Slowly, he brings his arms around Silco. This time, it's definitely a kiss that's pressed to the side of his head.

"And I'm yours too," Silco whispers into the shell of his ear, voice soft again.

"I love you." The words tumble out almost of their own volition. "I… I never told you before."

His embrace turns into a proper hug. He can feel Silco's heartbeat reverberating in both their chests, rising and falling slowly in sync with their breathings. His limbs are heavy, the weight of his lover curled against him achingly familiar.

This… In moments like this, he finds that everything else makes sense. The fights, the hurtful words, the violence, the messiness. Rage and fear intertwined. It's nothing more than what the world has taught them. But monsters can love each other. Remember, in the space between heartbeats, how it feels to simply be human.

This, the both of them, their love, they had to learn it all on their own, but it makes the rest worthwhile. It makes dreams feel attainable. It makes pain and blood bearable.

He wonders where he would have ended, if their paths never crossed. Maybe they would both be dead. Maybe he would have turned out to be nothing more than a low-level bully, driven only by anger too hot to contain, bitter and cold. Maybe he could have been happy in this other life too. But he can't change the past, can he? Neither that day they met, and in his heart opened a space for this man that was only a boy by then – nor the day he shattered Silco's trust. And now, he's sure of one thing: he doesn't want to live with his absence, with the guilt and the uncertainty.

Doesn't want to keep wondering about what could have been.

They can fix this. Relearn trust and boundaries, how to agree and disagree, how to dream and how to love. He chooses to believe it.

A big thank you to anyone that has read this to the end, and also thanks to Smallhorizons and SilcosEntropy (AO3 usernames) for beta-reading parts of this and giving very useful feedback!

That was a ride, I hope you appreciated reading it as much as I had fun writing!

I have also published some one-shot (some fluff, some smut) taking place in the same AU-verse, post this fic: they are up on my profile, gathered under the title "Reconciliation AU"!