Work Header

An Undoing

Chapter Text

It started off as nothing more than her name from an unfamiliar mouth he’d happened to overhear as he made his way through The Last Drop on a Saturday night. He’s still unsure how despite how loud and obnoxious the music and its inhabitants were he happened to zone in on one exact table as he headed for the stairs. 

A group of men, boys really, sat huddled around a table overstocked with empty glasses as they passed around a Firelight prototype he was all too familiar with. Sevika walked by his side with another one of his men on her other, she was instructing him on a pending cargo due to be shipped out tomorrow that might need more security if the rumors of enforcers doubling down were true. Plenty of room and a voice already in his ear to hold his attention; however the minute the name left the boy's mouth, Silco could not help but cut his long strides short just to listen. 

“Jinx,” a red haired boy with a scar spanning across his lips and down his collar, says her name like a prayer as he takes a long drink from his glass.

Silco has prided himself in his ability to remain stoic and not let his baser urges of violence overpower him. He knows he’s only been able to tame himself over the years he’s spent raising her. Knows that the fear he used to see in her eyes when he would lose his calm demeanor in meetings with incompetent generals is what has forced him to discipline himself. Spending hours chastising himself before he went in search of her, finding her in her workshop shushing the voices that told her he could snap at her in the same manner at any moment. 

He feels the beast rise in him now as the other boys snicker, in on a secret Silco wants to rip from their throats himself. All too soon Sevika calls his attention back as they reach the stairs. He decides whatever cargo that is going out should be secure enough as is. They haven’t had an interception in months to cause such caution anyways. Work can wait, he must attend to a more urgent matter.

“Stick to the plan.” His voice leaves no room for argument but his number two has known him far too long.

No doubt she had overheard the boys as well, so she takes the order with just an eye roll and scoffs as she stays back watching him climb the stairs alone. Surely she knows where he intends to go, what information he seeks. She has tired of questioning him, spent far too long inquiring as to why he insists on keeping the girl so coddled that he cannot even finish a full day of work without seeking her out, and cannot scold her for her misdoings like he should. However Silco has long since been unbothered by his underlings' assumptions on his interest in his keep. 

Still as he makes his way through the halls of his headquarters, he cannot silence the voices in his own head. The ones that too question him of his intentions and motives. Silco is a smart enough man to know that the excuse of finding her how he did all those years ago, alone and broken, can no longer stand up to the thoughts that invade him these days. The assurance that even young she was a worthy apprentice to The Doc and even more so now is a mere backdrop to the more insistent reasons. The casualties and victims at her hand are worth the price when he sees her walk through his doors with a smile reserved for only him and the assurity of his praises despite the men he has lost because of her. 

Her workshop is far back in the dark halls of his lair, far away from the noises of the bar and the streets outside, away from prying eyes. When he first brought her here he had let her choose her room in hopes she’d be more comfortable in his presence if she was able to find her own peace within the realm he’d built. She was wary of the men he’d kept on hand. Sevika being the only one other than him who could come close to her, speaking in low tones and never causing her distress lest she hide herself away in the rafters above.

He had once found her in a far back room devoid of windows and light, where she was huddled on the floor around piles of scrap she had an interest in working into her inventions. The next day he’d ordered someone to fetch a workbench and any tools she would need. The day after everything was set up for her he had walked into his office to find her small form perched on his desk, neon markers scattered around her as she scribbled the drawings he’d seen on her bombs into the wood grain of his desk, a gift for him in her own way. 

Silco slows his footsteps as he nears the end of the hall, faint light illuminating the wood floors from the door left ajar. He doesn’t often intrude on her work, this space is her own and he lets her have her way with it. As the years went on becoming lenient with his supervision of her. No longer afraid she would make a break for it and leave him. 

She had only run once, a faint pang in his chest at the memory of the news of her departure. She was just a child, less than a year she had been with him, he knew it was bound to happen and accepted it for what it was. Ignoring the bile rising up in him to claim it as what he didn’t want to believe it to be — betrayal.

Still when he had gotten news a week later of Sevika finding her on the outskirts of The Lanes in an alley, bruised and bloody and calling out for him, her return brought a monumental shift inside him. Afterwards for months he had not let her out of his sight without a guard. Even if she sometimes did not notice the shadow he sent after her. 

Yet after years of training since then, he has loosened the leash. Letting her wander without a pair of watchful eyes on her movements. He has let her have free rein of Zaun, as a reward for all her work she has done for him, not to mention the nights he has not spent alone in as long as he can remember. 

He takes a deep breath, ridding himself of those early memories and all the pain they still bring. He leans just enough into the doorway to peak inside, spotting her immediately. She holds her latest project up closer to the only light source above her at the desk. Her figure, from his standpoint, is just a silhouette and he lets his eyes drink her in. 

His little girl has grown up right in front of his own eyes. He feels warm at the proof of all the work he has done to protect her, evident in just the way she stands before him, alive and healthy. He tracks her blue silky strands of hair to the nape of her elegant neck where they form two long braids. Trailing them down the expanse of milky skin along her back and past her slim waist. He eyes the dimples resting just above the low waistband of her pants, he cannot help but swallow at the flare in her hips and her shapely legs. Her braids finish at her knee where her skin tight pants cutoff as well, leaving her calves exposed before the boots he’d gifted her begin.

He makes his way back up her body at a leisurely pace. When he reaches her head, he clears his throat. 

“Little one.” 

He does not need to raise his voice, she’d normally be blaring music as she works. Never one to be left alone with the voices if she could help it. So the silence in her workshop has him concerned and he tries to not startle her with his arrival. 

Jinx turns towards him slightly, her hands still holding the shell of scrap metal she is fussing with. His breath catches at the sight of a large bruise along her jaw, rushing forward without a second thought.

“Who did this?” His eyes search her face as his hands run up her arms and along her shoulders. “Jinx what happened?”

He had intended to find her well, unharmed. He is no fool to the changes to her body, the looks she’s been receiving over the last few years, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t paying close attention either.  He’s asked her to steer clear of the Red Light district on the southern end. Silco knows that the surety of finding men who were indebted to him, the ones he’d often send her out in search of, matched the risk of finding men who didn’t give a damn whose name she was tied to. Men who could easily overpower her if any of her gadgets failed at a critical time. He does not usually linger on the things that could happen to her out on the gritty streets. 

He very gently takes her face in his hands, mindful of the large blue splotch along her jawline. She eyes him warily as he brings her closer, placing a chaste kiss to her forehead with a heavy sigh.

“Please, little one. Soothe an old man’s worry.”

Her entire body softens immediately at his request. She will not deny him what he seeks when he is so clearly distraught. She feels a slight pang of guilt for thinking to hide away in her rooms with the expectation that he would not see her like this. 

“It’s nothing Silky.” Her voice washes over him as she rests her hands atop his where they lay upon her face. She sees the doubt in his eyes as they trace over her bruised face once more. “There was a scuffle. I was hanging out at The Veil and yes I know I’m not supposed to be there.” 

He reigns in his anger at the thought of what kind of scuffle she could have gotten into at a brothel. Instead choosing to nod for her to continue, brushing her long bangs away from her face with tender fingers.

“If you know you are not supposed to be there, why go?” His voice is gentle and she relishes in the comfort of it. 

“I just wanted to see what the other girls get to do.” She shuffles her feet, knocking her boots against his leather ones.

“And why would you care what the other girls do?” He tips her chin back from where she has tucked it against her chest, opting to fiddle with the lapels of his coat than meet his eye. 

“It’s where Sevika spends her time when she’s not here. I heard them talking about it. How lovely the girls were there. I wanted to know what to do… to be lovely.” Jinx lowers her voice as if in embarrassment and he hates himself for neglecting her in this way. 

“You are lovely Jinx. You do not have to go to a brothel to know that.” 

“Then why don’t you touch me like the girls at The Veil get touched?” 

Silco practically chokes on air as he pulls back. Jinx takes her own step back, out of his arms as they stare at each other. 

“Jinx. I—“

“Deckard said it’s because I’m inexperienced. That you wouldn’t want someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing so he had me tag along with Braxus to see Iris. She’s pretty and I wanted her to teach me but then Brax kissed me and—“

“Braxus did what?!” He snarls, interrupting her rambling the anger he tamped down boiling over now.

“I punched him for it! It was gross and it felt like he just dragged his tongue across my face like a dog but then Iris got angry so she called for one of the bouncers and they threw us out. I put up a damn good fight and well… that’s where this is from!” She gestures to the bruise on her porcelain skin with a shrug. 

He watches the way she feigns nonchalance, resting her hip against her desk with a sigh.  He knows by the way her fingers twitch against the metal worktop and the slight tick of her brow as her eyes unfocus, that she is listening to the voices speaking to her. They are probably telling her how recounting the day to him was a mistake, no doubt he will be upset with her for how she chose to spend the day.

In the quiet moments between them he figures that it was bound to happen. She is nearing womanhood as an adult and he often wondered when she would seek out pleasure. Terrified and angry she would choose anyone but him. The thought disgusts him all the same. 

Why would she choose to have him fulfill her needs? He does not blame her for wanting newer and younger company. She most likely does not see him that way, does not gaze at him the way he has tried not to do with her. Jinx has always clung to him in her times of need, has looked to him for comfort at all hours of the night. He has learned her pain and trauma just as she has learned his. However, this new anguish that finds her questioning why he does not do the things she sees others do and that has her walking through brothels, is new. But one he knows far too well. 

So he makes a rash decision, one he will ponder on later when she has retired to bed. He walks over to her now, his shiny leather shoes click softly against the floor as he makes his way to her. Just three simple steps until he is able to pull her arms from where they are crossed over her chest. She breathes in as she looks up, eyes focusing back to the reality of him.

He gives her a moment to watch as he leans down, his nose brushing against hers makes her eyelids flutter. Two soft breaths are shared between them before he presses his mouth to hers. 

It lasts for mere moments, one could wake up the next morning and believe it was nothing but a fleeting dream. But they are not dreamers waking from sleep, they are divers coming up from the depths, finding air. 

Jinx has kissed him before. Chaste ones left against his cheek in her hurry to scurry off for her daily excursions. Forehead kisses he’d leave her with as she fell asleep in his arms after chasing the voices and monsters away. This kiss is like none of the ones they’ve shared before, lips coming together in a way neither had expected. 

Silco's heart beats frantically and he fears it will burst straight out and into her hands. The same hands that hold his elbows as he holds her arms still in his grasp. He clears his throat as he pulls back, watching her face for any sign of disgust or repulsion at what he’s just done. The line he’s just crossed. 

“That, Jinx, is a proper first kiss.” His voice is gruff and he strains to clear it discreetly a second time. “Braxus is just a boy. He does not know much of anything, least of all how to properly kiss anyone.” 

He runs a hand through his hair, attempting to distract himself from the way she stays silent, watching him as if in shock. 

“Yes well… I will be in my office if you need me. I have much work to be done so please don’t wait too late for me to come to bed and don’t stay in here all night.”

With that he turns and strides out her workshop. Once past the doorway and into the hall he nearly runs to the safety of his own. His door slamming as he braces himself against it as he catches his breath. 

In the quiet solitude of his office; he fears she will run again. That this event must be her limit. He is the father she has known for years and he's just done a monstrous thing. Taking from her without preamble, his jealousy taking over at the thought of another touching her in ways he’d only let himself imagine. 

Silco pushes away from the door, opting to drop into his large chair, spinning to look out over the Undercity. His thoughts run rampant as he drags a finger across his lips in contemplation. It will be hours into the night, having tucked himself into his work to ward off the memory of her soft lips against his, when he recalls the tipping off point. 

She had questioned why he did not touch her in the ways she’s seen, he questions himself as well. Wonders idly what is stopping him from taking what he deems his. And what is more his own than his daughter? 

Chapter Text

The tapping of a pen, the scrape of a chair against the wood floors, a cough into an elbow, it all begins to grate on Silco’s nerves, his headache maximizing as the minutes tick by. He has called a meeting in the office, twenty or so men at attention in front of him. To the right of him stands Sevika, arms crossed over her broad chest, he can hear the tapping of her nails on her metal bicep. 

He sighs, taking a drag from his cigar, taking one last peek at the pocket watch on his desk, before he clears his throat. 

“Very well then, Let’s begin shall we.” He leans forward pushing the map of the Undercity closer to the middle of his desk, for all to see.

He dives into planning the next month's divisions of watch and supply. Who goes where and does what. He immerses himself in arranging his lackeys in order, instructing Sevika to enforce a strong hand to anyone even slightly out of line. He pretends to miss the eye roll she gives at the command, just like she ignores the plume of smoke he directs straight up to her face.

After hours of meticulous planning, his office empties out for the night. He suspects they all will find their way downstairs to the club as is usual. Nearly a full day spent strategizing and barking orders, Silco does not have the energy to join them, not even for one drink on the scene. He decides to stay seated as the last one exits, leaving only Sevika alone with him. 

She makes sure the door is firmly shut, before flopping herself down on the chaise lounge against the wall. She pulls out her own cigarette in silence. 

“You can’t keep letting her do whatever she wants.” Sevika mumbles, teeth bared as she lights the tip.

The sigh he gives is long suffering as he heaves himself out of his seat. Opting to grab a glass from the bar cart and pour two fingers, if he has to deal with this conversation he’d rather it with alcohol. He pivots and makes his way to the large window behind his desk, swirling his glass, the ice cubes tinkling fills the silence. 

“She hasn’t shown up for inspections in five days. She had strict orders to meet the holders bright and early Monday. She didn’t and you know what happened?” 

She waits for an answer she knows will not come. Just the clinking of cubes as he brings the glass to his lips, his only reaction to her. She grumbles under her breath and continues. 

“The cargo nearly got swiped. That’s what happened. Had Regial not been there with the rest of her team, it would be all gone.” He hears the long drag she takes, holding the smoke in as she rants on. “But that’s not what Regial is for. That’s what the kid’s for, they know not to try to swipe our shit when she’s around. Hell if I know, the little bitch isn’t even that scary.” 

Silco's jaw ticks at the name-calling. 

It’s been five days since Jinx was last in his presence. He hasn’t let himself think too much of it. She’s been known to disappear for hours in a day without letting anyone know. She doesn’t need to tell him where she runs off to, Silco knows this.

He just wishes she’d at least be a little more mature about it. Choosing to ignore her work means someone else is forced to pick up the slack, usually Sevika. And while he doesn’t care much for the brute woman’s annoyance, he does tire of hearing the complaints from her. He knows his other men speak of her in the same manner when she disappears like this. 

He doesn’t want to believe it, but he’s come to think Jinx might be avoiding him. Purposefully making sure they don’t cross paths. 

While the club is constantly packed downstairs, only a few are ever known to walk the halls upstairs. More a private section than anything, few are found to stray in the depths of the building. Silco has found himself following sounds and creaks of floorboards as he makes his way to and fro. Over the course of five days, only a handful of times spotting a splash of blue against the dark halls. By the time he zeros in on the direction, however, it’s gone. 

So he knows she’s around, he’s spent enough time lounging at his desk taking pulls from his cigar and directing the smoke upwards. Eyes quickly searching the rafters, half expecting a dove to be snuffed out by the fumes and drop onto his desk. 

“I’ll deal with it.” He throws over his shoulder, not bothering to sound remotely interested in her concerns.

His jaw works as Sevika just scoffs. He takes another sip, savoring the burn as it goes down. He turns back to trade his glass for his cigar left on his desk, pulling a long drag as he waits for more from the mammoth woman. 

“I bet you don’t even know where she is half the time.” She tips her head, baiting him.

“Why would I? When that is your job.” Plumes of smoke surround them, he can practically hear her teeth grinding. 

“I’m sick of babysitting, Silco. I have better things to do with my time and you have more important things to do than letting her run this place and in turn, you like she does.” She heaves herself to her feet, stomping over to his desk to smash her cigarette in his ashtray. 

He stares at the neon drawings scribbled all across it. Drags his eyes over his desk, where more of Jinx’s artistry can be found. She’s left her mark here so prominently why shouldn’t she be allowed to run the place?

Run it better than him if she tried. 

Run it into the ground if she wanted. 

He knows he’d let her. 

He knows he’d let her do a lot of things. To the business. To Zaun. To him. 

He lets his eyes drift up to Sevika, who stands stoic in front of his desk, watching.

“Get out. Next time you have a complaint, take it to someone else.” He pulls his chair out and takes a seat, arranging the papers before him signaling the end of the discussion. 

Sevika stays stock still for a moment as his eyes dart along the pages. She takes a deep breath before turning and leaving him to his work in silence. When the door clicks shut behind her, he throws down the papers, reclining in his chair. 

He swivels to face the windows again, running his hands through his hair. He watches the fumes that envelope the Undercity, casting the lights across the view in eerie shades of greens and yellows. He lets time drift by in silence, smoking and occasionally standing to refill his drink. 

It isn’t till sometime late in the night when he has buckled down in his paperwork that he feels the atmosphere around him shift. He suddenly feels as if he is being watched. He pauses for a mere moment, not letting his eyes drift up as he stands to make his way over to the cart once again. 

As he reaches for the decanter, he hears the all too familiar sound of weight dropping down onto his desk. He does not turn to her, rather fills his glass to the top, knowing he might need it.

“You missed inspection. Regial had quite a time on Monday. Sevika isn’t very happy.” He makes a show of rearranging the bar cart instead of immediately returning to his seat. 

“Sevika is never happy and I smoothed over Regial already.” 

Her lilting voice sends a shiver up his spine he tries to ignore. He hasn’t heard her voice in a while and he tries to not think of the relief it is to hear it now. Five days of worrying for her have done this to him, even with the daily assurances from Sevika that she’s around. 

“She has a sweet tooth for those red candies topside. Even got my hands on one of those new batons Enforcers have now. She’s been itching for one for ages and that chump didn’t even realize I took it! Wish I could have seen his face when he realized it.” She continues her ramblings as he can hear her shuffling, making room for herself on his desk.

“You may be right that she’s never happy but at least she knows not to be in places she’s not supposed to be. I’ve told you topside is off-limi—“ He nearly chokes on his words as he turns to face her. 

Laying sprawled across his desk, Jinx’s braids lay strewn down the front onto the floors. Her feet propped up on the back of his chair, her body fitting perfectly to lay across the desktop. It’s not an odd sight to see her this way, she’s taken to sitting and laying upon it since she was young. Not realizing she’s grown taller and longer, soon too big to be perched this way especially since there are other places to lounge in his office. 

The cause of his halted breath is more as to what she’s wearing. She’s barefoot for starters, with her long milky white legs in plain view for his perusal. Instead of her usual attire, she is in her nightgown. An outfit he’s been trying unsuccessfully to switch out for years. 

The small black satin chemise was a purchase he’d made when she was a lot smaller. The dress had dragged along the floor back then, causing her to trip on it when he’d first gifted it to her. Now, however, it barely covers what it needs to. What he so desperately needs it to. 

From his position, he can see the small swells of her chest, the tiny points of her nipples at attention. He realizes it might be quite cold for her seeing as he doesn’t have the heat on in his office often. He turns back to the decanter, opting to take it with him now.

He makes his way over, noting how she pointedly refuses to look his way as she holds a sheet of paper to her face. He stops next to her legs still resting upwards against his seat. Her ankles are crossed, and he tries not to stare at her thighs as he imagines lifting one of her legs and sitting down. The apex of her thighs would be directly in front of him, her cunt right in his face. So close he could—


She takes note of his hard tone, quickly pivoting to lay the other way instead. Finally, she meets his eyes, pushing his ashtray closer to him. He picks up his cigar, smoking in silence, letting her watch him as he watches her. 

“You cannot be gone like that again.” He keep his voice leveled, not scolding her. Never that.

She fiddles with a braid as she watches him, her gaze calculating. In a flash she is crouched above him, leaning into his space. He doesn’t retreat from her, just lets her look at him. He wonders for a moment what she sees. If she likes whatever it is. 

Before he can wonder any longer, he realizes she has spoken. She looks to him expectantly, waiting for an answer to a question he did not hear. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.” He rubs his good eye. “What was that Jinx?”

“I said,” her voice rising in annoyance. “When was the last time you got your medicine? Your iris is shot.” 

Her fingers lightly press up under his chin, tilting his head back slightly as she peers into his scarred eye. 

“Saturday I believe.” He moves his face away from hers before expelling his smoke.

“Saturday? Seriously, you couldn’t have told me?” She’s angrily rummaging through his drawers now. 

“Hard to tell you when I can’t find you.” He reaches into the drawer opposite where she’s looking, picking out the syringe. 

“I can’t go very far with the dogs always watching.” She mumbles, arranging herself in his lap. 

He does not tense at the idea of her legs on either side of him and the position it puts her core on him, far too used to her claiming his lap. However, her bare thighs against his own are another thing entirely. She shimmies closer gripping his face as she brings the needle to his eye. She’s unbelievably warm where her legs are spread against his lower abdomen. His good eye closed tightly, hands balling into fists but not at the anticipation of pain from the injection for once. 

He doesn’t realize she’s done until he feels her lean back, placing the syringe down. She turns back to him as he wipes his eye, a stray tear falling from the sting of pain he did not recognize.

“You’re angry with me.” She states, winding her long arms around his neck. 

“I could never be angry with you Jinx.” He trades his cigar for a braid, rubbing her tight blue strands in between long fingers.

“But you’re not happy with me either, old man.” She pouts. 

“And why would I not be happy with you Jinx?” He tugs lightly on her hair, watching her pout deepen. 

“I skipped work. You almost lost cargo. I’ve ignored you.” Rattles off reasons as she swings her head back and forth. 

“The work was picked up by others. Shipments are safe for now.” He feels her fingers playing with the ends of his hair along the back of his neck, she’s nervous.

“Why would you ignore me?” He asks quietly, making sure to not look at her directly but instead where his hand plays with her hair still. 

When her silence lengthens he chances a peek to see her staring at his lips. Something inside his stomach rolls and he cannot decipher if it's an entirely unpleasant feeling. 

“Jinx?” Big blue eyes darting up to his frantically.

He’s not noticed the way she’s been leaning into him, faces mere inches apart. Her eyes search his face, never straying too far from his lips. He swallows, the sound loud in the limited space they have together. 

“Jinx.” He calls her names again, watching the way they flutter slightly.

“I didn’t do it back.” 

“Excuse me?” Her whisper forces his voice to lower as well, as if in on a secret. 

“When you—-“ she pulls her hand back, swishing it around next to their faces, trailing off. “You know…” 

“When I kissed you.” He finishes for her. 

She nods quickly, biting her lip. He could practically feel her vibrating with energy in his lap.

“So yeah..” she leans in quickly, landing her lips against his. 

She stays for a moment. More than a moment really, he watches her eyes, she keeps them open just as he has, except his decision is out of surprise. He’s caught off guard, surely what she must have felt Saturday night when he did this to her. 

Her lips are warm, supple against his own thin ones. After a moment he can feel her pucker deepen, pushing herself harder against him with her lips. He lets her continue, feeling the way she moves her head slightly, attempting to get a better molding of their lips, noses bumping with her movements. 

He decides to help, tilting his head just so as they finally slot perfectly against each other. Her hands move up from his neck, holding his head. He watches her eyes flutter close as she opens her mouth against his. With a swiftness he was not ready for, she proceeds to lick the entire length of his lips with the flat of her tongue. 

He rears back in shock, feeling the cold air hit his now wet face. Letting out a grunt as he wipes his face with the back of his suit sleeve. She stares at him in horror, mouth agape and face flushed. 

“Shit, did I do that wrong? Fuck!” She begins to scramble from his lap. 

Grabbing onto her calf before she can crawl up and over his desk, he halts her movements.

“Jinx. It’s fine.” 

He feels out of breath, though he’s done nothing to exert himself. He didn’t even kiss her back this time. He thinks perhaps that makes them even now. Both took from the other before either could react. 

Silco releases her leg once he’s sure she’s no longer ready to bolt from the room. He waits as she arranges herself cross-legged on the desk, hands in her lap as she prepares herself for a scolding. 

He sighs, sweeping a hand through his hair and taking a drag from his cigar. 

“It was only fair. I apologize Jinx. I didn’t mean to react like that. You just surprised me.” 

“Is that not how you do it?” Her voice is soft, shy. 

He feels a tightening in his chest at the idea that she wanted to be good for him. The thought stirs something much lower as well. He adjusts in his seat as discreetly as he can, sitting up straighter before beckoning her closer. 

Sliding off the desk into his lap once again, he arranges her chemise around her hips. Blocking out the image of her underwear he glimpsed as she was extracting herself from him moments ago.

“I told you the boy had no clue as to what he was doing,” Silco mumbles, brushing a few strands that have come loose from her braids away from her face. “At ease, little one. I can teach you.” 

He takes in her features; dark arched brows, blue doe eyes, a tiny pert nose, Cupid’s bow above pink lips. Feeling the anticipation growing as the seconds tick back. He holds her hips steady, grounding both her and himself in this moment.

“Close your eyes.” He commands, watching her lips.

“I want to see you.” Her brow furrows as she argues.

“Close them.” 

“Ugh.” She slumps slightly with annoyance. 

Taking the moment for himself, he presses forward connecting them once again. This time he strives to be different from the first chaste kiss he’d given her. The days without her have coiled themselves deep inside him, manifesting in a pang of hunger for her he believes can’t be sated. 

Having her in his lap, experiencing her wanting to reciprocate has him ravenous for more. Anything more, before she changes her mind, something Jinx, his cherry bomb of a daughter, is known to do. Before she has time to pivot away from him and this experience, which she will no doubt regret later, he vows to savor it.

Placing a hand lightly on her lower back, feeling the curve of her spine, the other coming up to wrap around the back of her neck he nips her bottom lip, startling her. She gasps, mouth opening just enough to allow him to invade her. His tongue sweeps lightly inside, brushing against her own, earning himself another surprised sound from her. 

He pulls her forward by the neck. Careful to resist the urge to also press her body closer completely, mindful of what she would feel if she were to slide closer on his lap. She rests her hands on his chest, letting him explore her mouth, feeling the small movements of her own tongue against his. 

She attempts to swipe her tongue into his, a minuscule thing, his grip on her moving up to her hair and tightening. On the second taste, he nips her tongue, feeling how she attempts to pull back from him. He knows he didn’t hurt her and continues on, wanting this to be something she can’t forget later. When she is kissing someone younger, who is not him, he wants her to remember the first person she let into her mouth.

He continues his assault, feeling his body strain to devour her further. He cannot scare her with his appetite so soon. If this is all he gets to teach her, he’ll take it in stride. She trusts him to not ruin this experience for her, so in turn, he can control himself from all the instincts to take her over completely. 

Their tongues clash, her inexperience causing hers to rub against his without rhythm in haste to keep up. He smiles into the kiss, heart warming at the feeble attempts to try to overtake him in this. He swipes up into the roof of her mouth, feeling the sharp edge of her teeth. He only has a moment to relish the slight moan she breathes into him before he feels her mouth close, tongue trapped in between as she bites down hard. 

He nearly jumps out of his chair, both of them rearing back as if burned. He keeps his lips sealed, can feel the blood pooling in his mouth. Holding her hip, he reaches to open a drawer finding a tissue to spit into. He avoids looking at her as he wipes his mouth, knows if he were to look he’d see the scared look she’s surely giving him.

“Silco, I—“ she starts, voice shaking. 

He waves her off, giving her hip a squeeze before balling up the red tissue and throwing it on the desk. 

“It's fine, Jinx.” He reaches for his glass. The alcohol burns even more as it swirls in his mouth, along the cut she has given him.

“I hurt you.” 

“Mmm. Nonsense. I quite liked it.” The words slip out quickly, a reflex to alleviate her guilt.

“Again?” She’s eager, legs swinging where they hang behind him.

He can’t help but chuckle. “No Jinx. It’s late, why don’t we go to bed?” 

“And continue there?” She’s bouncing in his lap now, oblivious to how close she is to bouncing directly on his semi-hard cock. 

“No. No, just to sleep.” He has to forcibly push the image of what kissing the girl in his bed would lead to. 

He doesn’t trust himself to be able to do what they just did and not push it further. He begins to think he probably can’t trust her either to hold back now. Though she probably doesn’t even know what else there is, maybe she merely wants to kiss him in the comfort of a bed. He could allow that perhaps…


He stops himself from trying to find a reason to continue this elsewhere. He’s done the job of giving her a proper first kiss. He can keep that sole experience and reign in the rest of his desires.

He gives her hip one more squeeze and pushes slightly, urging her up. Reluctantly she stands, allowing him to rise and quickly plopping into his seat once it’s vacated. He grabs the used tissue and his ashtray, dumping them in the bin. He turns to see her yawning, limbs languidly resting over the armrests.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you so tired in a while.” He arches his brow in question, a small smile as he sees her stifle another yawn. 

“I’m getting old like you.” She grumbles, holding her arms out making grabby hands up at him. “Carry me won’t you? Like you used to.”

He scoffs, nevertheless bending to reach one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees. Straightening, she wraps her arm around his neck, holding onto him.

“You’re not as little as you used to be.” He notes when her long legs bump against the desk, feet pushing over an empty grenade casing she gifted him. “One day I won’t be able to carry you anymore.”

“But that’s not today. Besides I said you’re old that doesn’t mean you aren’t strong.” She mumbles into his neck, hot breath against his skin.

“Maybe you're very heavy.” He teases.

“Rude.” She whispers as he leads them out into the hall and up a flight of stairs to his bedroom. 

Reaching their destination, he lays her on the bed, watching as she slides from his arms like water and onto the sheets. Limbs reaching out to grasp the covers as she tucks herself in. 

He unbuckles his vest, dropping it on a chair near his closet. 

“Where are you going?” Jinx’s voice floats over to him. He looks to see her lying on her belly, head turned to him on the pillow. 

“I’m going to shower. Go to sleep.” She mumbles a reply before turning over. 

He can see the slight muscles in her back ripple as she makes herself comfortable on her side, facing away from him. Sees the expanse of pale skin where her shoulders move with every breath she takes. He lets himself trace her form under the sheets before turning away. 

He enters the bathroom, turning the knobs for the shower and avoiding the mirror. Divesting himself of the rest of his clothes, he walks under the torrent of water, letting the scalding temperature burn his skin. He braces himself against the wall, palms flat against the white tiles.

He still feels feverish from the kiss he’s shared with her earlier. Closing his eyes he can still see the way she leaned into him the first time, when she wanted to give him back what he gave her, both their eyes wide open. He can faintly feel the pressure of both their lips as he went in for the second time, her mouth opening letting him lick into her. He groans at the memory.

Under the safety of the steam enveloping him and the quiet of the night, he allows his palm to drift away from the wall. Resting it against his chest, above his heart where he can feel it beating, lower along his stomach feeling where the hair under his navel begins and flows downwards. With a sigh he grasps his cock, not needing much to have it at attention once again. 

Thinks of Jinx just beyond the door, sleeping in the bed that is as much hers as it is his. The nightgown that rucks up at just the slightest movement and well she’s always been a restless sleeper. Closing his eyes, imagining the picture he will see when he returns to the bedroom. 

While his office is usually cold, he makes sure to keep the heat on in his room, hates the low temperatures in the morning when he's forced out of bed. If it forces her to throw the sheets off in a huff in the middle of the night, exposing herself, well it’s not his fault. She could easily return to her own room and her own bed, much cooler than his own.

He grips himself tight, letting his soaked hair fall into his face as he looks down at himself. He shouldn’t, he knows it. He can take time for himself tomorrow, head down to the places he knows this could be easily remedied. Maybe the same place she went to, where they will service him, get these desires out of the way. He doesn't remember the last time he’d been to one. He's pretty sure it was sometime before she came into his life, surely afterward he never had the time.

He wonders if it will be enough. If he could close his eyes and lay back, feel a mouth on him, and not picture a different one. If hands could run along his skin and not have to fight the urge to bat them away because they are too big, too soft, lack the roughness from handling tools and gunpowder for hours. If he could pull on hair that is too short, too coarse, and not the right color. 

He sighs finally letting himself give one harsh tug. Grunting at the pleasure it sends up his spine, knees nearly buckling. He feels it course through him, his own undoing. Swallowing hard before he relents, lets it wash over him as he gives himself another harsh drag. He can have this. In this solitary moment, he can let himself imagine whoever he likes. Noone has to know, he can do this and get it over with. Get it out of his system.

He begins to pump himself, rough and fast. Open-mouthed panting as water slides down his face and body in rivulets. The strain of his muscles as he strives closer to release. It’s almost painful when he finally breaks, balls pulled tight against him as he spills against his own hand and the tiles. Maybe he deserves the pain, it's fitting for what he’s just done. 

There’s no use mulling it over anymore. Pathetic how easily it was to be done when he finally let himself see who he wanted. He washes his hands under the stream of water, washing away the evidence of his weakness. Stares at his still hard cock, tasting the name he had to hold back. He thinks it's pointless, having to restrain himself in his own time. 

So he grips himself again, toes flexing against the tiled floor as he builds himself up once more. This time he lets her name echo off the walls of the bathroom. Thinks to himself she will be out of his system the second time surely.