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The Last Drop of Vander’s youth was a quiet place. Hole in the wall sort of dive, with ratty, dingy booths, swill at the bar, and filling, greasy snacks of questionable quality. It wasn't the same location as The Last Drop that he would open a few years later, no, this was its namesake. A place no one liked, but everyone went.
One of the reasons was its abundance of whores. Every night, a group of brightly dressed prostitutes would parade from the hotel next door out into the street and into the bar. Come a certain time and you'd be greeted by many a comely face. They would reach out to you, feather-light fingers catching a bit of your ear, the breath of lips against your cheek, a thumb tracing the line of your jaw. If you were a regular, they would call you by name- place their hands on you in a familiar way and coo for your company.
Vander was caught in the throng by Piva. She was a full-figured woman about his age and her bright green eyes always held a sparkle, even after she'd lost her sight two years ago (so much gas in the air, so much shit in the water, people lost lots of things down here). Vander was amazed, still, how she managed to always find him.
"Come on, it's been a while," she cooed. "A working man like you needs a bit of love once in a while."
"No time for love when we're building Zaun," he replied low, ensuring his voice was syrup sweet for her. She laughed- he knew it was tickling something deep in her, hearing him speak like that. She'd told him how she liked it, and Vander liked to make his people happy.
"Piva, you have to stop stealing my partner."
Silco's playful lilt rose above the crowd- his voice always rose about the crowd. Any room he walked into, eyes were on him, and no matter how softly he spoke Vander could hear nothing else but his voice.
"You're keeping him away from me, Sil," Piva teased, though her hands slid from Vander's shoulders, as if she were giving him away.
"It's his responsibility, isn't it? Girl child Revolution needs caretaking."
"Don't let her get away, boys." As Silco pulled at Vander, her voice rose stronger. Followed them. "We're counting on you! All of Zaun is."
~~~~
"You're not angry, are you?"
The question came with a drink- Silco offering him a shot of too-warm whiskey. Vander took it without a thought and downed it (all at once oily and stung, that was Undercity booze for ya) in one swallow.
"About what?" Vander asked. "Piva? No, not at all. Why would I be angry?"
"I dragged you away from a soft bed, warm arms, and a fine fuck to drink this swill with me." Silco raised his glass- he sipped his, even though this wasn't sipping whiskey. "If I were you, I'd be furious."
"No you wouldn't.” Vander snatched Silco’s glass from his hands and took a big mouthful. His friend stole it back as he lowered it. Whenever Silco rolled his eyes, his whole face had to join in- from the raised eyebrows to the way he tugged his lips back in exasperation to reveal his crooked front teeth. “Nothing could take you from Zaun- and nothing can take me, either.”
Silco’s lip twitched, the corner pulling into a half-smile. He raised his glass and Vander watched as he perched the edge of the cup on his bottom lip, letting the weight hold it down. “Not even the fine love of a woman like Piva?”
It was a test, Vander knew. Silco couldn’t help it- twisting and prodding and poking and testing. Prove it to me. That’s what Silco was thinking- whispering to himself. So Vander leaned in- bent himself over Silco to stare down at his partner, his eyes searching Silco’s. No where for him to run from this—
“My heart for Zaun, brother.”
Vander appreciated the way he shut Silco up for a moment. He’d never been good with sincerity, not this kind. Speeches and fire, anger and strength, fist beating against his chest? Oh yes, Silco was all kinds of sincere there. But the moment you looked him in the eye—
“Yes, your heart for Zaun, but what about your cock?”
—The moment you looked him in the eye he spit on your shoes. “You’re disgusting,” Vander chuckled.
“I can’t have your wrist giving out at the worst moment—”
“Silco!”
“—Because you didn’t have someone to take care of you—”
“Silco…”
“God forbid if you can’t keep your head straight—”
“Silco.”
“—I really should just take care of you myself.”
“Silco.”
Vander felt too close now, so exposed, curled above Silco as he was. He was massive, an overbearing force, but such a big target- in more ways than one. But after hearing that, he couldn’t stand to look away. Was this another test? Had he said it in jest? Or was this his way of asking-
“... Don’t threaten me with a good time, Silco,” he finally murmured.
Was there a moment of weakness? Hard to tell, Vander’s partner was very good at keeping a straight face, never flinching away from danger—
“Mm. You know how I love a good threat,” Silco said, unable to keep one side of his mouth from lifting, pulling back into a cocky little half-smile. But ah, there it was- his watery eyes flitted away, unable to look at Vander, properly look at him.
Vander’s throat dried up- it had been a joke, but it was more now, wasn’t it? Instinct howled within him; chase the bit of weakness, make it unfurl before you.
Vander grabbed the stool between Silco’s legs and dragged it flush with his own in one short movement, his muscles bunching and releasing beneath his too-tight shirt, ripped and repaired many times over. The two men were face to face, hot sparks in the depths of Vander’s eyes, searching for Silco’s.
Silco had gone still, incredibly so - his expression schooled into blankness, his eyes half-lidded, but a flush had built up on the back of his neck, the tips of his ears.
His eyes flicked up to Vander’s and held, hard and flat and burning.
His lips parted as he tilted the back of his head to drain the rest of his whiskey - his thin neck exposed over his collar, pulled down and open.
Vander saw it for what it was- a dare.
His hand moved like lightning- brawls and mine work had hardened his body and pushed him to the limits of what was possible- and the heaviness behind him bore down on Silco. He grasped half of his neck, his thumb brushing the hollow on the other side of his jaw for a moment before lifting to graze his lips.
“Vander—” Silco said, but couldn’t say much more, even as his lips fluttered and he gulped down air. Vander could feel every breath beneath his hand, the heat of life beneath Silco’s skin. Restraint rippled down Vander’s spine- no, no, he couldn’t squeeze and cut off his partner’s air. He couldn’t watch as his skin went from pale to blotchy red, mouth agape, chest heaving as he gasped for breath-
“Well?” Vander muttered, the question hanging and waiting on the edge.
Renewed vigor appeared in Silco’s eyes so suddenly- a switch flipped, a decision made. He grasped for Vander’s waist and sunk his fingers around the loop of his belt. With strength that didn’t match his lean frame, he yanked Vander’s hips closer to his.
“What are you waiting for?” he hissed.
Coins clattered against the bar, spinning with the force they were thrown with. By the time they stilled, the revolutionaries were gone- Slico tossed over Vander’s shoulder, carried to the hotel next door.
~~~~
Vander worked very, very hard to contain himself. His grip on Silco the short walk over hadn’t moved from its spot on the small of his back. He had to think about that- focus on keeping his hold there, otherwise it surely would’ve wandered down, inch by inch, until he’d sunken it into Silco’s ass. That wouldn’t do, not in public.
Reaching the dingy, second-floor room was a blessing. He slammed the door shut behind them and hefted Silco onto the bed. The springs wheezed and nearly gave way from the impact, but they held.
“Careful!” Silco gasped.
Vander was atop him immediately, raised on his hands and knees- a beast pinning its prey. “If it breaks, we’ll fuck on the floor.”
His words were met with Silco’s lips, those thin fingers skating across his cheeks to bunch up in his hair and dig in, twisting up knots. Vander’s large hand slid across Silco’s back to hold him as their lips battled- teeth scraping and digging into flesh, sharp and hungry.
He wasn’t sure how it happened, but when he pulled away Silco’s lip was already bruised and leaking just a little blood. Vander could taste it on his tongue, bitter metal and sweat. He wiped his mouth on his shoulder, smearing the speck across his mouth. A raised eyebrow, a question to his partner-
Silco responded with a toothy grin and licked the blood from the cut on his lip.
Well.
He slid his hand up from Silco’s back and grasped his hair and tugged. Silco’s fingers, still twined up in Vander’s hair, suddenly unspooled and came undone as his head jerked back, the line of his neck exposed, back bent and arched.
His breath trembled- Vander could see it- his throat working for each gasp.
“You think I didn’t notice?” he rumbled, his voice lingering in Silco’s ear even as he sat up, his hips sinking atop Silco’s. “You think I didn’t see how you looked at me? How you watch my back when I leave, or how sometimes you don’t quite look me in the eye. You’re looking at something else, aren’t you?”
Silco’s face flushed- red, red, red. It was a delightful color on him. Vander saw his gaze flicker up along his face and then down- now blatantly staring at the growing bulge at Vander’s crotch. Already it showed through his hands, straining against tight fabric.
“Cat got your tongue, Silco?” he asked. With his free hand he grasped the collar of Silco’s shirt- another questioning raise of his eyebrow.
His partner gasped in a breath to sneer, “Are you going to keep talking or are you going to fuck me already?”
No helping it- Vander chuckled, the sound almost swallowed by the sudden, sharp ripping of Silco’s shirt. Vander tore it easily and tossed the ruined scraps to the side. Beneath him, Silco was unusually still- in shock, perhaps?
“Vander…” How amusing it was to see Silco at a loss for words- especially as Vander’s hand traced a path from his sternum, along scars, along the lines of his chest and stomach, ending at the clasp of his pants.
He didn’t bother to undo the fly, or his belt, and instead just tugged down. His strength was all he needed to peel away the layers of Silco’s clothes, drag down his pants and leave him bare on the bed- naked body arching as Vander still held his head back, tugged it, bent him.
It was happening- Vander had to take a moment to swallow down the nerves. Silco was always Silco, would always be Silco - but this was a new side to him, an edge Vander hadn’t seen. Shaking just a bit, huffing breath and little grunts through his teeth like he was freezing or rabid but, as Vander could see with him now so exposed, his own cock hard and flushed.
“Lost your temper already?” Silco said, his smooth voice already frayed. How much more frayed, Vander, came the thought, almost like from someone else, could he get?
“You keep finding ways to make it flare.”
He dropped Silco’s hair, allowed his partner to relax, unclench. He could catch his breath again, and in that moment of weakness Vander grabbed his thighs and lifted him up. Silco was trapped- legs hooked over Vander’s shoulders, hanging from his waist. And then Vander buried his face in Silco’s ass.
Moans erupted from Silco’s lips- sweet music to Vander’s ears. Each time his tongue dove deeper, Silco choked- moaned higher, harder. He scrambled and swung his arms, grasping for whatever bits of Vander he could reach. But his partner was too strong, he was too small, and he flailed, breathlessly helpless.
“I’ve got to loosen you up, Silco,” Vander growled. As he wiped his mouth against Silco’s inner thigh, he graced the tender flesh with the dance of his teeth. A burst, a spasm, was his reward- sucked in breath, forceful exhales. “You’re too tight to take me.”
Vander dropped him, and Silco slid along his body to collapse on the creaking bed. “Face down.” The order came as a growl. “Ass up.”
When Silco didn’t move fast enough (on purpose, Vander saw the grin, the light in his eye, his eyebrow twitch) Vander spanked him- a swift hit that turned his skin red in an instant. Silco hissed in again, nostrils flared, and each grunted exhale held his resolve. Vander was so entranced he spanked Silco again, just to hear his breath stiffen.
As Vander pulled his hand back again, Silco shot forward, knocking it up, fisting one hand in his hair so he could kiss him hard, fighting against him. When they were little more than children, play-wrestling in the dirt, when they sparred (at Silco’s insistence, before the imagined growth spurt never came) as young men - Silco did not take orders. If he were to do something he didn’t want to do, it was because he was made.
He allowed the kiss- allowed Silco’s gasping and fervent embrace, but only for a second. If his partner had to be made, he would be made- and Vander lifted Silco off him by the neck. The bed complained, creaking and groaning, as Vander shoved him down, ground his face into the pillow, delighting in the affronted snaps and growls muffled into its softness.
“It’s easy, Silco. Like this.”
His whole hand wrapped around Silco’s thigh- so slender, so small- and yanked up. The force of it bent him, breathless. And even with ass in the air, back bent in a curve, Silco’s eyes still burned defiance from behind his wild hair, pinned to the bed.
“Good boy,” Vander cooed, allowing his thumb to strike Silco’s cheek, brushing just under his eye- and a snarling Silco bucked beneath him, howling and fighting for freedom that wouldn’t come.
“I take it back.” Shaking his head, he let his thumb toy with Silco’s hole- he slid his digit against it, threatening to enter, and then stopped. “You're real bad. Makes me want to be mean.”
Silco’s shaking voice burst to life from below his hand. “Oh, mean? You think you can be mean? You think you can tease me, Vander? Drive me insane?” he gasped. “Is that what you’re imagining? Me begging for you?” There was a grin- as if he’d caught on, as if it ruined everything.
But Vander simply dropped Silco’s hips and released himself, slapping his cock (thick as Silco’s forearm) along the smaller man’s ass.
With his legs trapped by Vander’s powerful form above him, straddled and pinned by his head, Silco couldn’t win any fight he started. Oh, but he fought, spitting like a cornered cat. He tried to drag himself away- buck Vander off.
“I was gonna be nice and get you ready, but…” Vander positioned himself, a forceful push right against SIlco’s ass. The pain of even just the tip, so unprepared, made him spasm. His lips parted to draw in a sharp gulp of air, his body tensed with the pain.
Flickering eyes then released the held breath in shaking, gasping spurts, and the pressure was gone. But only for a moment.
Then it was there again, pressing, pressing, he heard grunts, growls from Vander as he thrust against, into, pressed him open-
“VAH-VANDER!”
Silco shouted his name. Vander barely heard him- too focused on forcing deeper. He put himself above Silco again, hands and knees, a looming monster.
“You could’ve been good.” Silco trembled- Vander’s cock bottomed out in him, balls deep. He could feel the pressure, hard, deep, intense, in his ass. He felt his stomach bloat, his body too full of him. And then Vander’s pressing became thrusting. Every one long, hard, drawn out until just the tip of his dick was still in Silco’s hole, then he bottomed out again.
Beneath them the blanket was stained wet and a trail of sticky pre-cum connected from the little puddle to Silco’s pulsing cock. Each thrust it dripped, spurted, leaking his delight onto the mattress.
For once, Silco was speechless. The driving cock painted his mind blank with each pounding thrust- and they were getting faster, no space between the push in and pull out. The only sounds in the room were Vander’s growls, Silco’s gasps, the creaking bed, the heavy slap of flesh on flesh, and the slick thrusts of their rutting.
Even Silco’s gasps didn’t last long- Vander’s hand wrapped around his throat from beneath, caught the thin, reedy thing in his hand, and he squeezed. For a brief, brief moment, Silco couldn’t breathe. Eyes wide, mouth flapping in search of breath, it was suddenly all blocked- all trapped- and Vander held the key.
“Oh, you like that?” Vander’s growl in his ear dominated his senses. “Can’t breathe and your ass tightens up.”
Silco couldn’t reply. His eyes rolled back, his lonely cock pulsed again.
“Your ass is hungry for my cum, Silco.” Still, Vander’s words were all Silco could hear. The larger man was breathless, words the edges of grunts and growls. Silco’s lips moved, words considered and lost. “I can feel your body begging— fuck— You don’t need to say a goddamn thing.”
Vander’s grip tightened- Silco could see stars- the pounding, hot cock, railing into him- his leaking, needy desire- Vander above him-
And then Vander released his neck and buried himself in Silco’s ass, his face against his partner’s bruised neck. The smaller man gasped ragged, breath returning, and the endorphins surely rushed in as well. His ass clenched around Vander’s cock and it was all he needed- that last push. His hips moved without him thinking, micro-thrusts, grinding against him, as he poured his climax into Silco.
And beneath him, rushed with sensation, Silco’s cock twitched against the rough blanket and released his load across the sheets.
In the moments after that first round, Vander collapsed atop Silco and pulled him tight against his chest. He breathed in his friend’s- lover’s?- scent, his lips caressed the edges of the bruises on his neck.
Silco was the one to break the silence- “Are you taken care of?”
The reply came- an exhale turned growl, rough against the tender flesh. Vander sunk his teeth into Silco’s neck, slid his hand beneath them to grasp Silco’s cock. That was all it took to bring Silco back to hardness again.
As their lips fell against each other once more, Vander bit back what he truly wanted to say.
But it was alright- there would be time. If nothing else, for now, they had time.