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It all started with a smirk, a throaty chuckle flown his way, that signature eye blazing with mischief as he suggested the idea.
Vander raises a brow, surprised at such an offer, especially from Silco.
“What exactly do you want to do?”
Silco rolls his eyes, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world and Vander was mocking his intellect.
“To let off some steam together, Vander. That’s all.” He waves a hand around him, gesturing around the vacant pub, the glowing ember flickering on his cigar between his nimble fingers, thick smoke wafting into the air with a small exhale.
“I understand things have been… Messy recently.”
Messy was an understatement. Vander’s patience was on thin ice, the gradual expansion of the undercity was worrying Piltover, causing extra precaution in the streets as the amount of enforcers wandering the lanes had been doubled, clearly sensing something growing.
Because of this, Vander had snapped at an inexperienced ‘trader’ striving to haggle their goods, the valuables of foreign trinkets mediocre at best. He had dismissed the gruelling bargains with a low hum of boredom, a shrug of his shoulders showcasing his lack of interest as he walked away from the shrouded booth, wishing them all the best.
But that truly wasn’t what made Vander lose his temper. It was the snide comment which called for his attention, tone festering with ugly entitlement.
“That’s a nice beaut. How much do ye pay to keep ‘im around?”
Vander recalled being confused at first, turning around with furrowed brows and following the pointed finger of the unkempt merchant until it landed on a lithe frame a few metres away. Confidence oozing from their aura by simply sitting on the plush stool next to the bartop, a lean leg crossed over a knee, inspecting various paper documents as fingers absentmindedly tapped against a beverage. Completely unaware of the prying orbs on his back.
Vander knew who that figure was immediately, easily capturing his curiosity, grey eyes widening in realisation. From the tailored maroon clothes clinging to his slender frame, to the dark slicked back hair accented with a tinge of pomade, how could anyone in the lanes not identify him?
The mocking words of the man eventually clicked into Vander’s brain, his enamoured gaze breaking to turn around in heavy, tense motions, a time bomb internally ticking away.
“...Mind if you repeat that?” Oh, Vander had heard correctly. He just wanted to make sure that this man was half-witted enough to reiterate his words, his crass demeanour practically begging to let his nose be broken by burly fists. He felt the itch of fury pumping into his knuckles as he locked eyes with the crude trader, clearly unaware of the volcanic wrath boiling inside Vander. A toothy grin bloomed on their face, a false attempt at camaraderie.
“Jus’ think his time here is wasted is all… Wouldn’t mind a piece of that a-”
Vander’s massive paws surged forward before the man could finish his sentence, pulling him out the booth with a harsh tug, the front of his shirt clenched as he brought him face to face, his height lacking a few inches than Vander’s own stature. His jaw was slack, gaze widened in shock, before a defensive snarl ripped from his throat.
The few patrons in the pub quickly turned and noticed the commencing brawl, bewildered. It caused some to abandon their seats in an effort to back away, unwilling to become involved, whereas others moved closer to halt the potential bloodshed from both parties. Vander ignored them, his whole world had collapsed into a bubble, focused merely on the man in front of him, the appeals to calm down going unheeded. He barely noticed the hands tugging at his arms, desperate to make him let go as his grip tightened over the man's clothes.
He neglected their hushed pleas with grinded teeth. The nerve of this man to strut into his bar with that attitude… The fact that he disrespected Sil-
Vander was so caught up in his whirlwind of thoughts that he hadn’t seen the flash of steel aiming for his throat, the serrated edge beckoning for the spill of crimson. His eyes flashed in panic, the startling sensation of the blade hovering lightly against the layer of skin on his neck, a mere swipe required to have Vander bleed out on the floorboards.
It should have been quick. Vander had expected the suffocating pain to appear by now, the sudden gush of warm coppery fluid to seep through his clothes, staining the cloth with bright fury to match the tone of his own unbridled rage.
What he hadn’t expected was Silco to be immediately by his side, a large knife within his clutches. He caught the sight of the familiar leather straps wrapped around the handle of the weapon, multiple characterised letters of ‘V’ carved into the wooden base, showcasing the claim to its original owner in a quirky manner. Vander hadn’t realised the man stopped his act of bloodlust because his own life was being threatened in a similar style, with Silco not hesitating to push the edge of the dagger deep into the trader’s neck; watching the throat contort, afraid of swallowing saliva like the action will cause the blade to rip into his flesh.
Silco was not one for idle threats.
The harsh stare resonating from Silco had everyone frozen in place, too afraid to impact what happens next, the tension being so thick, clouding the air as bodies stood with bated breaths. The flaming iris of Silco’s scarred eye had drowned the merchant in a sense of fear, extinguishing his cocky bravado act. Vander’s focus dropped, watching the scarred lips curl to form words.
“I suggest you lower your weapon, boy.” Silco’s voice carefully remained neutral, but one cannot deny the venomous undertone seeping through as he spat his words.
“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to threaten the man who pours the drinks?”
The knife pressed into the skin for emphasis, daring for retaliation.
Vander watches the bloke before him turn a ghostly shade of white, releasing a loud gulp as he nervously backs away from Silco, weapon dropping to the ground in a yielding display - escaping from Vander’s limp grasp, as well as the claustrophobic crowd enclosed around them. The pulsating screech of adrenaline violates Vander’s eardrums, body acting on auto-pilot as he makes an effort to calm down; to steady his breathing, arms being brought to his sides, clammy palms highlighting his anxiety.
Even as he watches the trader clumsily scramble to pick up his items from the booth, bolting out the door, Vander knows he hasn’t escaped the real danger yet.
He licks his dry lips before opening his mouth, an explanation rapidly forming on his tongue.
“Sil-”
With a sharp scoff Silco interrupts, turning his mismatched gaze from the doorway towards Vander. Glowering, he mutters with a stifled hiss as he brings himself closer to the shell of Vander’s ear, standing on the toes of his boots - wanting to avoid more unnecessary scrutiny being brought upon them.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
And talk about it they did. Being reprimanded by Silco had Vander’s ears flushed pink with shame. Silco had reached up and tugged one, gripping the lobe tightly between his index and thumb, forcing him to his lower height, Vander had cringed from the pain. It was embarrassing - but he could only blame himself.
However, Silco was clearly unsatisfied by the disciplinary outcome, leading Vander back to the present, the decision being offered to him still undecided. A taste of leisurement at the tip of his fingers.
“Take some time. I’ll be waiting upstairs.”
Silco’s fingers are sliding up Vander’s forearm, grazing his vambrace as he tickles the muscle around it, sly intentions leaking through with a light brush from his nails, vaguely digging in before letting go, waltzing away with a flirtatious gait. Silco peers over his shoulder to view Vander with his teal eye, a subtle upward quirk of his lips pulling into a light smile before continuing his path, treading up the wooden stairs with clicks from his boots.
Vander was a simple man. His interest had definitely been sparked.
That was how Vander ended up tied to a sturdy chair in their bedroom, limbs bound to the armrests by tight leather straps, rubbing against his skin with the slightest movement. He still had his clothes on, acting as a shield of warmth and protecting him from the nightly air as it coils around him, a ghostly shiver escaping from his body, a mixture of discomfort and excitement.
The powerful bloom of a candle emanates from the bedside table, causing unnecessary parts of the room to remain shrouded in darkness. He knows a certain someone is watching from the shadows, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Vander searches for that fiery orb to stab into his soul with cruel intentions, to mock him from afar.
Vander decides to have a little fun…
“Feeling playful tonight, Silco?” He huffs an airy chuckle, feeling bold as he raises his voice into the inky abyss of shadows around him.
With no response, he continues, “Been awhile since you’ve done something like this! And here I thought you were getting too old for this.”
He hears a small shuffle to his left, eyes darting in the direction to pick up any subtle change, heart rate picking up in speed as he fails to find anything. Vander bites his lip in concentration, trying to hear the tiniest creak of the floorboards, to feel tremors of movement wisping in the area as Silco moves around him.
“Over here.”
Vander’s gaze snaps to the lean figure creeping forward into the light. His jaw drops, agape slightly as his curiosity flickers all over, visually devouring Silco’s new attire.
The expensive transparent silk clings to his sleek body, the dark tones being perfect for him as it contrasts against his pale skin. The black floral lace around his chest is tickled with shades of rose red, teasing the sight of his nipples rubbing against the fabric. Various straps cling to his body like a spiderweb, stringing around his thighs, the stockings causing a strong urge to rise within Vander, greedily wanting to rip them off.
The entire outfit comes together as it resembles a two part piece, the lacy panties leaving little to the imagination. With Silco’s cock being nestled behind the small floral pattern, the material rubbing against his shaft, the sensation clearly arousing him. Vander’s eyes notice the straps wrap around his hips. A long strip connecting to the chest piece ushers up Silco’s agile spine, leading upwards to his nape, coiling around his throat.
Vander can’t help the desire that sweeps over his entire body, staring with absolute admiration. The flush of arousal briskly pools into his groin as his member becomes achingly hard, trapped behind his undergarments and trousers, begging to be released from the tight cage of cloth. He clenches his fists on the armrests, the growing itch of desire flooding beneath his fingertips, unable to do anything but simply be patient.
Silco notices Vander’s flustered reaction and throws him a smug look, a dexterous palm moving to fondle his own body, fingers slipping through the lace chest piece as he gently tweaks a flushed nipple, a low throaty hum being vocalised as he watches Vander’s gaze rake all over, pupils already blown behind lashes, making his eyes dark with lust.
His nimble hands abandon their spot, lowering to one of the straps encompassing his thigh. With mild interest, he watches from the corner of his eye, and sees Vander’s legs subconsciously opening wider. In response, Silco nonchalantly lifts the tight strap inches away from him, caressing the dark material between his fingers, making sure Vander watches with eagerness. He suddenly lets the elastic piece go, the sound of it smacking against his skin; cracking into the midnight air, leaving behind a faint pink mark that paints the light pigmentation. It has Vander entranced, murmuring in fascination.
“Fuck… Silco…”
“Oh. So sorry… Am I being too old and boring for you, Vander?” Silco raises a hand to cover his mouth in mock sympathy, slender fingers plastered against his lips in a polite facade.
‘Little shit.’ Vander exclaims from his mind.
Stubbornly, he grinds his teeth together, unwilling to voice his lust filled admiration if it means Silco is going to act smug. It may seem childish, but this is a game Vander isn’t willing to lose.
Clearly, Silco has a similar mindset. He raises a thin eyebrow and tuts, berating Vander’s display of stoicness. He turns around to pick an object up from the drawer by the bed, knowing exactly what he’s looking for; causing a sense of dread to fill Vander’s heart as he begins to regret his playful attitude from earlier. However, he refuses to admit this to Silco, maintaining his glower to the back facing him, holding it together with a straightened posture even as the other man turns around with a wicked look in his eye.
There’s a subtle gleam of gold in Silco’s grasp.
“Here… I’ve been wanting to use this for a while now.”
Within his clutches is the shape of an intricate gag. The thick circular front capable of encompassing one’s entire mouth, a simple pattern painting its metal surface. The springs in its design cut through the leather straps, proving a tight experience once it’s fastened appropriately around someone’s head.
Vander licks his bottom lip, a nervous tic. He already knows his fate has been sealed. His eyes widen in panic as he silently observes the back of the toy, realising the shape resembles a coiled thread from a screw, the edge of it blunt - perfect to be deeply forced into an oral entrance. Vander, for a quick moment, worries for his tongue.
Silco, never failing to miss a miniscule detail, catches the glimpse of apprehension coating Vander’s face. A smug smile curls his lips as he walks closer, hips swaying - intentions clear from his unrushed footsteps.
Still maintaining their wide stance, Silco stands to slot himself in between thick knees, causing the bigger man to angle his face to look up in quiet awe, the gloomy candlelight perfectly capturing Silco’s face like a gorgeous sinful apparition. The wiry hands raise to lift the gag towards its precise location with a sense of pride, like victory has already been achieved. Vander shakes himself out of his stupor and tilts his head back, chin defiantly raised with a small growl, avoiding the leather straps purposefully moving to encase his skull.
“If you stuff that in my gob, Silco I swear I’ll-” With an unexpected forceful push, the gag silences his words, teeth marginally scraping against the rough material as it enters his mouth. Lissom hands making sure the straps are wrapped and fastened correctly. Silco, guilty as charged, leans back to admire his work.
An approving hum is purred from Silco’s throat, watching with delight as Vander’s harsh curses are silenced by the simple toy. Large body thrashing aggressively against the binds, like a dog attempting to get its muzzle off - fighting to be unbound.
With a certain elegance, Silco leisurely lowers himself to his own knees, keeping the position between Vander’s legs, eyes scrutinising for a response from above. Vander has instantaneously become awfully still, the sight of Silco between his legs always succeeding in stealing his attention, never wanting to miss the fluttering details on the other’s expression.
In quick succession, Vander’s fly is unzipped, material pushed away to witness the bulge beneath his briefs. The scrawny man cheekily leans down to place a light kiss on the spot, causing a moan to rise from Vander’s throat. His hips squirm in desperation for Silco to attend to his erect cock, feeling it twitch in the increasingly uncomfortable confines of his boxers. Silco’s crooked teeth glint in a lascivious grin, meticulously prying the briefs away from skin, both of them watching with bated breaths as the stiff length springs free into the air.
Silco wastes no time getting acquainted with the new company between them, mismatched eyes shining with mischief, the scarred optic unblinking with its intense gaze.
“I hope you’ve realised something important today…” Silco breathes sultrily, words ghosting over the glans of Vander’s cock, “I can look after myself.”
He swirls his tongue around for emphasis, feeling playful as he watches clasped fists. “You, however. Can clearly not.”
There's a moment of contemplation from Silco - almost as if a miniature light bulb flickered above his head, but it is quickly covered up with an all-knowing smile.
“I heard everything you know.” A flick of a tongue swipes the bubbling precum away from the slit, tasting the man. Silco hums from the flavour, continuing to vocalise his train of thought as his gaze narrows on the other’s face.
“Did the thought of him bending me over the counter make you feel something? Was I your damsel in distress?” A displeased muffled rumble is heard from above, hips trying to roll into the slick warmth.
A sly hand wraps around Vander’s dick, giving it small pumps in his fist, a pink flush forming on Silco’s face all the way down to his collarbone from the excessive heat between them, as well as due to the obscene package before him. Even now, Vander is still proud to gloat, the girth showcasing a hefty weight to it, the broad curve of it dwarfing deft fingers. Silco’s hand moves to rest at the base, adding tiny pressure to the length, twisting and stroking in small circular gestures to massage the region.
Silco begins to lather his tongue up a barely visible vein bulging on the side, a strip of saliva coating the sensitive skin, glistening in the soft glow of light. It causes Vander to jerk, the cool air prickling, the wetness making a shiver swarm his body. The long swipe of a tongue morphs into kitten licks on the red-tinted tip, the area boldly screaming for attention as Silco cleans up the rising evidence of Vander’s excitement.
Vander emits a low, rough grunt, eagerness rolling off him in vocalised waves. He wants to rip the pesky binds off, shove his nails into Silco’s scalp, tug hard at the roots, ruffle the dishevelled locks further and shove his mouth deep onto his erection. To hear him garble and flounder to take it all in, to feel slender fingers grip into him in an act of mercy, to be unhanded.
It’s all about remaining in control. That’s just what Silco always wants, isn’t it?
The unhinged thoughts ravage around Vander’s mind, yet he remains entranced by the obscene image of the other man’s mouth slowly stretching wide on his cock, lips sealing around the shaft. With determination, Silco manages to engulf half of the broad member, blowing air into his cheeks, a puffy hollowed display adding to them as he begins a steady rhythm.
Silco alternates pressure between the width of his tongue, fluctuating to broad curling swipes as it wraps around Vander’s throbbing length, the raw wet texture bouncing in constant slithering waves. A garbled noise is muted from above, the feeling of Silco taking all of him staggers Vander with unbridled pleasure. Silco suppresses a choke from the pressure hitting the back of his throat, pushing on through sheer pride.
Vander’s close, he can feel the pressure building in his spine, the tightness in his crotch. He starts bucking into Silco’s mouth desperately, faster, moaning into the gag each time he feels his dick deep in that wet, scorching tunnel. There's a sense of begging to his actions, as if he was crying out for Silco to not stop, expecting the other to let go any second, all to make him suffer on the edge. But he doesn’t, and instead maintains the effortless pace of bobbing his head up and down until Vander is constantly hitting the back of his throat. A tiny gag is emitted from Silco, causing his throat to tighten around the prick, making Vander unable to catch a breath and hurtle him over the edge of orgasm.
He’s prepared for Silco to pull off, to let the seed shoot all over the lace covered chest. And yet he doesn’t, swallowing the cum as it clogs his throat - refusing to let a droplet spill. White dots dance at the edges of Vander’s vision, his blissed out state barely perceiving the shuffle between his knees.
Silco wobbles slightly as he gets back on his feet, the toil of age noticeable as he winces from his previous position, the cold, solid floor clearly making his joints ache. His hand darts out to balance on Vander’s knee, pushing himself away once he’s balanced upright, heading towards the bedside table which houses all of Silco’s pleasures.
He’s picking up a dark bottle filled with a golden opaque liquid, one that Vander usually finds under the bartop, stashed away only for the strongest willing to endure it. He hears the liquid resonating inside a glass, splashing against its translucent confines, a quarter added by the sound of it, but Vander knows it's enough for someone’s mind to be let loose and become fuzzy. The bottle is placed down, the ‘clunk’ echoing on the wooden table, quickly drowned by the voice of a lighter clicking within the air, flickering as it ignites Silco’s cigar.
On his way back, Silco takes a silent sip, treating himself with the strong flavour, savouring the taste with a hum of satisfaction as his tongue swipes the remnants of what remains on his lips. The cigar in his clutches silently fizzles, the smoke drifting like phantasmic entrails as Silco approaches Vander once more.
He pushes himself into Vander’s space, settling to sit on the larger man’s lap this time, thighs resting around the thick waist for balance as he shifts to place the glass by the leg of the chair, saving it for a later moment. Silco must know the proximity is tantalising, purposefully exaggerating his manoeuvres as he proudly seats himself just above the firm cock, causing it to brush against Silco’s ass.
Judging from the leaking member behind the lace, Vander knows Silco is teetering on the edge of magnanimity, his agonising mind games seizing to a halt as he finally begins to instigate what they’ve both been craving for.
The lingerie covering his entrance is pushed aside as Silco carefully lifts himself to clasp Vander’s dick, lining the tip to his hole before easing himself onto it. It causes both of them to simultaneously hiss from the tightness as the slow, seemingly endless mingling of their bodies becomes excruciatingly pleasurable. Silco is breathing in short bursts once the length is fully sheathed inside, biting his lower lip to avoid any more vocal evidence of the effect Vander has on him.
Vander however, noisily groans behind the gag, eyes snapped shut as his cock attempts to adapt to the scorching friction, trying to chase the sensation as Silco grinds himself on the girth, hips moving his weight to slowly rise up and back down. A palm is gripping into Vander’s shoulder, Silco no doubt viewing them as simple tools to push himself closer to hitting his prostate.
In a short moment, Silco remembers Vander’s silenced situation, plopping the cigar between his teeth as swift fingers tug at the leather straps, loosening them before ripping the toy from Vander’s maw, saliva messily dripping from his abused lips as it clatters to the floor. He’s wheezing heavily, gulping air through his dry throat. The weary display has Silco staring amusedly, flickering his focus all over Vander’s flushed expression as he reduces his beguiling movements.
“F-Fuck, Sil-“
He’s shushed, fingers stroking the grey-tinted beard and embracing the feeling of the rough stubble. Vander thrashes - attempting to buck into the tight heat above. Silco raises an eyebrow. The cigar still in his mouth is inhaled deep and held for a short breath, exhaling a few seconds later once the stinging pain satiates his lungs, laggardly pulling it out to twirl between his clutches.
The smoke pours from the luscious lips like mist, drowning Vander's face completely, yet through it all, his eyes are drawn towards the faint glow of Silco’s unnerving iris. Never failing to make him shiver, the unblinking orb a permanent reminder of Silco’s endurance.
Vander’s lips are swollen, but he's still willing to mark the pale skin with undivided concentration, just so he can hear Silco cry for more.
Forever the tease, the little weasel notices the desire exploding behind Vander's lids and pushes his hips into a circular motion, watching the large fists clench behind their restraints. He leans a little closer to Vander, nose bumping into an earlobe as he whispers in cloying falsetto.
“I know you can do better.”
A slender hand slides into Vander's hair, tugging him closer, making lips graze Silco’s gullet. Teasing a reward that Vander must earn.
Vander huffs but it collapses into an airy chuckle. He knows what game Silco has been playing, it's something they both want to win, whether it takes minutes or hours. It's like a game of chess. The anticipation of your opponent's move is what really makes it fun.
Suddenly, with a quick motion, Vander bucks his hips into Silco who gasps, arms wrapping around Vander's broad neck as he tries to keep balance, tightening his grip on the nape, which accidentally pushes the larger man into the crook of his throat. Vander grins from the chance granted to him.
Silco quickly realises his mistake, the power in which he maintained seconds ago falling into Vander's grasp, who gladly accepts the opportunity. His teeth sink into Silco's skin, who emits a disgruntled growl in response, cigar dropping from his clutches as it bounces onto the ground in small dying embers.
Vander can feel Silco giving into temptation as his struggle seems futile, the fingers embedded in the cloth of his shirt at first attempting to push away, only to hasten their grip as Vander's tongue laps at the sore area. Silco's thighs tighten around the thick waist, leaving little space between them as Vander remains fastened to the chair. They're both sweaty, dishevelled hair sticking to clammy foreheads. It merely entices them on.
Vander smirks against the wet skin, ”Untie me...I'll show you.”
A quick buck of hips to sweeten the deal has Silco reeling, teeth bared as Vander hits his prostate, making his lid snap shut with pleasure. His body betraying him as a low moan slithers from his lips, stiff cock protected by lace grinding against Vander’s stomach, the sensation of Vander’s length stretching him full as he rocks into the stimulating sensations from both sides.
But Silco is not willing to give in yet. He indulges in Vander’s little fiasco as a hand snakes into his shirt, tickling the skin as he grazes the thick chest hair. Searching for the prize, gripping the muscled body with an appreciative ghostly squeeze.
His fingers find what he was looking for, and with zero mercy - and a toothy grin aimed at Vander - he begins to tug a nipple, watching the reaction about to unfold with eager mismatched eyes. Hoping to teach Vander not to play coy.
With a small shout, Vander is jolting in the seat, his mouth losing the position in which it held Silco's neck. The pain tingles for a short moment, agile digits teetering Vander to give up full control, teasing with a slight squeeze, the nipple trapped between thumb and index as it's being toyed with. A swivel to the right here, to the left there - it has Vander gasping in shock, airy music of pleas flowing from his mouth. To Silco, it sounds like victory.
Vander barely registers Silco letting go and grabbing the glass of whiskey from below, skinny frame curving to the side, his gaze moving to the lithe waist. Vander's imagination soars to the moment when he manages to get his hands on it, the thoughts of clutching Silco and slamming that tiny waist onto his cock until he’s crying from it. Vander moans, toes curling as his patience begins to crack.
Silco leers at him from above, taking a small messy sip of the golden liquor, slightly missing his mouth as it drips down his chin, landing on Vander's sternum as it soaks through the cloth.
Tilting down, Silco places a kiss to Vander's mouth, the smoky flavour of the whiskey resonating from Silco like venom. The burly man gladly accepts the kiss with a mumble for more. A small nip is suddenly given to his lower lip, rudely asking for access. Vander opens his mouth a little wider, granting the tongue to slip through as it dances around, fighting for dominance.
Their lips smash against each other, as if trying to flatten and destroy one another’s mouth. Vander hungrily pushes back, his mouth open, tongue pushing past Silco’s to the moist space within. The bristles of his beard scratch against soft cheeks as Silco grips his head firmly, as if to keep him from escaping. Vander works his mouth against the other, their tongues battling, each trying to pin the other.
Silco lets out a desperate, filthy noise, ravaging the taste of Vander; unwilling to ever let him go as his actions become crazed, needy. The glass in his clutches is abandoned, shattering to the ground - the liquid mixing with the shards as the floor becomes soaked around them. It's like a switch has been flickered on, no longer is the eagerness muted by smug mannerisms, apathetic attitude morphing into pleading fervour as Silco’s barriers come crumbling down.
Unfortunately, Silco seems to register his moment of vulnerability, pulling himself away from the intoxicating kiss as he pants heavily, a question flinging from his lips.
“Are you going to behave yourself?” His tone is croaky, trying to retain a sense of control despite what had just happened.
The words have Vander tilting his head to the side in confusion, until he feels small hands fumble at the binds on his wrists, slowly loosening them.
Electrifying excitement courses through his veins, the feeling of freedom sweeping his entire body as the buckles droop pathetically from the chair, mocking Vander at the fact they held him down so easily.
The buzz within his ears implies Silco is still talking, but Vander isn’t truly listening anymore and instead surges upwards. His broad arms move to squeeze Silco’s backside, picking him up and holding him tightly in his grasp. The other responds by immediately trying to wrap his slender thighs around the large waist for balance.
Thin lips curve into a snarky smile. “So predictable.”
Silco fumbles when his weight is abruptly lowered to the ground, feet trying to avoid the shattered glass. Vander quickly swivels Silco so that his back is pinned to a broad chest, cock on the edge of his hole. Strong fingers capture the small jaw so that their attention focuses on the bed before them, the emptiness of it had mocked Vander from afar, but now he can finally put it to use.
“I warned you about the gag, Silco.” He says with a low growl, teeth nipping Silco’s collarbone as he pushes for more access, rugged whiskers digging into the delicate skin - hoping to leave pinkish marks. He feels Silco’s frame shiver as a hand teases his cock, rubbing against the bulge and spreading the pressure on his fingertips as he strokes - tiny twists of his wrist making the other tremble for more.
Silco murmurs a moan, resting his head just above Vander’s heart, the thumping beat drowning his senses, getting lost in the suffocating sensation of a calloused hand below. The smaller man places his palm on Vander’s muscled forearm, trying to push it further into his skin, to push the panties aside and actually give some treatment to his aching cock. But Vander isn’t giving in.
“At this rate I might as well get myself off.” Silco snaps, chasing the feeling of Vander’s riveting touch.
Vander responds with a shit-eating grin, fingers still toying with the laced fabric below, “Mm. Now where is the fun in that?”
Silco is silent, cock twitching in agreement behind the panties. It isn’t long until Silco’s patience begins to crack, his grinding becoming messy, snarling in frustration for not getting what he wants.
“Just get on with it!”
And that was all Vander needed to hear.
He swiftly pushes Silco front-first onto the mattress, removing his clothes in hurried enthusiasm as the other recovers from the disorentiating movement. However, Vander quickly pins Silco’s head to the mattress, one large palm encompassing the entirety of the skull, firmly gripping the dark locks.
Before hitting the sheets, Silco managed to brace his impact by turning his head to the side, left cheek digging into the bed. He stubbornly cranes against the hold to maintain eye contact with the man towering behind him. From this angle, Vander can see the harsh glare from Silco’s teal eye, blazing for a challenge, anticipating the next move.
Silco licks his lips, planning to say something, snarky words forming on the tip of his tongue. But he feels Vander’s other hand place itself closer to his face, thumb skimming over his lower lip, parting them to gain entrance into his mouth. He sets his teeth against Vander’s digit, threatening to bite if he continues his ministrations. Vander shoves his thumb further into Silco’s mouth, hooking it into a flustered cheek, pulling his jaw open for deeper access. Silco struggles to swallow with his mouth open, the sensation of drool beginning to pool beneath his tongue becoming uncomfortably overwhelming.
He releases heavy breaths through his nostrils, eventually closing his lips around the thick digit; sucking on it to swallow the saliva properly, tasting the saltiness and the rough texture. Vander grins in triumph, pulling his thumb out with a small ‘pop’, proceeding to push two fingers in, pressing down on Silco’s tongue, hot and slick to the touch.
Vander strokes the wet muscle, shoving his two fingers deeper until Silco sputters and tries to pull his head away, but Vander isn’t feeling merciful.
“Ah ah.” He shakes his head with a disapproving tone, “You keep doing the one thing you’re good at.”
A choked snarl is heard from below, body squirming, a silent argument to challenge the other man. However, the attempts give up shortly after Vander puts more weight on the back of Silco’s skull, pushing him further into the bed.
With a resigned huff, Silco closes his visible eye and sucks, swirling his tongue around Vander’s broad fingers. He’s not afraid to showcase his unhappiness however, teeth dragging into the texture, applying the tiniest amount of pressure. Always trying to maintain the illusion that he is in control, Silco bites at the intruding digits, a grunt leaving his lips when they roughly part from his mouth. Slick fingers move to grip his jaw, which forces Silco to twist uncomfortably and look into Vander’s unimpressed eyes.
“Fine. I see how it is.”
Sighing in disappointment, Vander wipes his wet fingers on the sheets next to Silco’s face, pulling his hand back to linger elsewhere, small touches skimming the ass raised into the air, stroking the delicate, pale skin behind the extravagant panties. Silco is feeling proud of himself.
That is until Vander raises his palm to harshly swat the unsuspecting skin in one swift motion. A loud cry ripping from Silco’s throat, knees buckling from the quick burst of pain. Vander’s palm abandons its spot from Silco’s head, swiftly moving to wrap a large forearm around the skinny stomach, keeping him in position. The skin turns a bright pink, and Vander can’t help but stare, his hand which instigated the action gently fondles the area, kneading lightly into the muscle. He feels the scrawny body attempt to jerk away, but his arm coils tighter around the waist, leaning down to sprinkle small kisses along Silco’s spine.
Silco flinches from the gentle touch, a litany of whimpers embarrassingly emerging from his lips, shocked at such an outburst. The caresses of Vander’s lips does nothing to quell Silco’s mind, words stumbling to create sentences as only curses can form on his tongue. The smaller man shivers, feeling the harsh stubble stop its journey along his back, ears struggling to register the teasing drawl from Vander.
“Let’s try again. Shall we?”
Vander makes sure that Silco is listening, straightening his petite ass once more into the air, moving his arm to keep a tight grip on a hip as his digits curl back around to Silco’s face, giving him a second chance. They gently prod at his thin lips, causing Silco to scowl as he carefully opens his jaw, permitting the fingers access as he begins properly sucking on them without teeth this time. Finding a rhythm as they repeatedly pump back and forth into his mouth, twirling and lapping his tongue in precise motions, a low groan vibrating around the slick index and middle finger.
He decides that’s enough and abruptly takes his fingers out from Silco, murmuring tiny words of praise for his hard work as he pulls back to push the panties aside, slipping the wet digits into the taut hole instead. He thrusts his fingers in simple motions within Silco’s walls to properly stretch him, pushing deeper bit by bit, faintly glossing over Silco’s sensitive spot that rewards him with a shiver. Vander hears dirty noises being muffled by the sheets. He silently enjoys the display of Silco becoming undone; watching nimble hands roughly clutch the linen as he struggles to hide his excessive eagerness for more, shaky curses directed towards Vander melting into the cotton.
Memories of earlier events flash within Vander’s mind. A sense of pettiness arises within him from Silco’s display, causing him to take out his digits from the tightness, moving his attention to his own leaking cock as he prepares it for entry.
Silco widens his eye at the quick development, sizing Vander’s length up, noticeably apprehensive but not wanting to object with things finally stepping into motion. Vander takes note of the quizzical gaze, steadily lining his tip and rubbing against the rim.
“You should be prepared enough. I mean, you were clearly enjoying yourself sitting on my cock like it was a damn throne.” He presses an inch in, watching thighs squeeze together, back arching promiscuously, hooded eye angling to stare back at him with lust.
It works like a charm against Vander, increasing the pressure and sliding his member in further. Nails subconsciously dig into Silco’s skin, leaving crescent shaped marks as evidence for his ravaging hunger.
“You’re mine.” Vander breathes, a heady rhythm assembling from his hips, “I want to hear you say it.”
He’s met with mocking silence.
Vander decides to slow his vigorous thrusts, choosing to leisurely grind into Silco and repeatedly hit his prostate, bursts of pleasure constantly oozing into the same spot, mewls being derived from the lack of roughness, the feeling of hitting the same spot is intense but not enough for Silco.
“D-Do you- oh f-fuck…” He’s interrupted by a sudden drawn out thrust from Vander’s hips, tip slamming back in with punishing ease. Silco attempts to muffle his noises behind a palm, but Vander leans forward, linking their hands together on the sheets, his weight cornering the scrawny frame further onto the bed.
“It’s not that hard, love. Why not be good for me, hm?” He whispers, palm lovingly encompassing a hip, wringing one of the straps fused onto Silco’s skin. The other man shudders, senses drowned everywhere by Vander, smothering him like a claustrophobic aphrodisiac.
It’s all too much for Silco, but with haughty defiance clouding his judgement, he raises his ass to push back into Vander, rocking on the motionless cock, sweat building on his temple as he arranges his own motions, going back and forth in rugged thrusts as he attempts to speak with gritted teeth.
“Do you ever s-stop talking?” His voice accentuates his pleasurable ministrations, coming undone out of sheer spite without Vander’s help. It hits a nerve inside the bigger man, who growls in retaliation, his once loving touch turning into a rough grip as raw, primal need overtakes his care for gentleness.
Both hips are gripped by a vice, feral grip as Vander's animalistic desires plunges forth, staining the delicate skin with bruises that’ll be dark by the morning. He doesn’t hold back, trapping Silco in his hold as he repeatedly pounds into him, the slapping of sweaty skin shattering the hushed air, numerous ushers of ‘ah’ flowing from Silco sounding like music to Vander’s ears.
The pace is cruel, unrelenting, yet Vander knows it's something Silco has been craving for; not wanting anything less. The sweet cries from the man below is proof enough for Vander to keep going, the girth sliding only halfway out before diving back in, milking the mewling cries of Silco as he jabs into his prostate again and again.
Vander notices a sly hand creeping under Silco’s own form, pumping the neglected cock with a tight fist, but the sight merely encapsulates him, the harsh lines of Silco’s face becoming lax, blooming with absolute ecstasy as they slowly creep towards their climax. Vander lets out a loud grunt, feeling the pressure within his member become overbearing, managing a few more thrusts before spilling his seed deep within Silco. His hips stutter, dragging out his orgasm as he lazily grinds into Silco, who finished a few seconds earlier in his own hand.
Silco is panting heavily, clinging into the linen as the haze of passion sweeps over his body, clammy skin making him uncomfortable - but he’s too tired to care. He winces from Vander unsheathing his cock from his leaking hole, exhaustion settling deep into his muscles as he’s shifted onto his side with the other snuggling from behind. He ignores the sticky cum coating on other parts of his body, purring to the tender kisses being peppered along his nape, a low rumble of affection from Vander murmuring into his skin.
The silence is comforting, but Silco knows something is missing, the ache of it heavy within his heart even after everything. The candle is long burnt out, darkness enveloping the room. He shifts around, moving closer to Vander, comforted by the broad embrace as he gazes into where he faintly recognises a pair of eyes.
The words carelessly slip from his mouth. He’ll deny them in the morning.
“I’m yours.”
The End.