Work Text:
"Tonight, or never."
Ultimatums were not something one gives to the Eye of Zaun. If anything, Silco was the kind of man to give ultimatums, but receive them? That was a far-rarer instance, which could perhaps explain his delay in reaction before he raised his chin just enough so he could glare up at you.
"What do you-?"
"Silco. Either you knock-off whatever games you're playing, and fuck me tonight, or we never do."
Air sucks out like a vacuum. From the room, from your lungs at your own audacity let out into what's left of air, and judging by how quickly Silco's pen clatters from his fingers, with one eye as wide as the other, he is rendered equally breathless at your declaration.
And, for a moment without air, you wonder if perhaps you've misread everything.
“... I beg your pardon?” Perhaps his tone, almost scandalized, definitely offended and embarrassingly flat, is a sign. A sign that you’ve looked too deep into the interactions between you and him - that every lingering glance, every grazing touch that made breathing still, teasing words said flippantly but with smoldering in the eyes, was just something you were trying to look for, and not something that was actually there…
But it was there. It had to be, there was no other explanation, no other reason for the slight, but tangible change in the atmosphere that occurred whenever you and Silco happened to be in the same room.
It was like you two were magnets, instinctively, and naturally drawn to one-another. You certainly seemed to draw Silco’s eyes onto you like it was on-command, and Janna knows how quickly the simple sound of Silco’s voice had you standing at attention. Unhelped by the months of dry wit, the lingering visits between your reporting's at his office, those damn fingers of his grazing when he reached to take papers from your hand. They never moved, just like his gaze on you - not until you yourself pulled back, and did so very reluctantly.
The tension was thick enough to cut through, obvious enough to you, and surely clear enough for him as well, and yet, Silco had the nerve to act dumb, staring up at you with open-surprise at your blunt ultimatum, before the eye begins to narrow into a slit, and the Eye of Zaun leans back with fingers steepling on his lap.
He says nothing; only raises a brow, and it says more than enough for you to seethe.
“Don’t you even-” “You are offended?” The brow raises up halfway to his hairline, Silco tilting his head in a curious way, underlined by a cool, calculating glint in his eyes as he runs his gaze over your body.
They linger on your hands, which are attempting to bite into the wood of his desk, before he looks back up at you, and sighs through his nose. “Refresh my memory if I'm incorrect. But I believe you were the one to stride in here, making demands of me-”
“I’m not demanding anything,” You clarify shortly, pulling your hands back to wrap around yourself, biting slightly into your upper-arms. “You can send me out now, and I'll be gone. But that’s it - we’re both adults here, Silco, and we shouldn’t be wasting our time-”
“So you consider the time spent with me to be wasteful?” He hums this answer within his mouth, before pursing his lips in a mocking shadow of a pout. “Pity. I rather enjoyed them… though clearly not as much as you have, considering this rather crass ultimatum you’re presenting to me.”
“Again, you can say no, and I'll leave. But don’t expect me back.”
“Are you standing there, and honestly telling me you’ll terminate your employment if I don’t make love to you tonight?”
Your heart skips a beat - not from the flatness of his words, but the words he used exactly. Silco isn’t known for swearing like a dirt-mouth sailor, true, but… not ‘fuck’ but ‘make love’…?
You caught him.
Maybe he doesn’t realize his slip up yet, but you did, and it’s enough to make your heart sound pounding like a drum behind your ears - half in anger because he’s still sitting there, playing dumb while you just caught him, and half in the realization that maybe you won’t be walking out of here disappointed.
You refuse to inform him of that. “No. I mean this will be the last time I'll meet with you. Everything else will be strictly professional beyond that… I won’t be playing games with you, Silco.”
His hands dropped into his lap, now fists. “Ah yes, spoken like someone who is speaking completely seriously,” Silco comments, dry as ever, but it’s betrayed by the soft sound of his teeth grinding before he leans forward, and gets onto his feet, palms soon braced on the desktop. “I didn’t realize you would be so desperate-”
“Or that you would be so ridiculous, why are you pretending?” You ask, in true bewilderment as you step forward and - for Janna’s sake, his breath catches the moment you match his form, palms flat on the desk as you lean forward, breath close enough to brush the stray hairs along his temple.
Even the blind could see, so why won’t Silco just acknowledge it? “Silco, I highly doubt you invite every employee under your belt to your office after hours for drinks,” Your tone is patient, and unappreciated, as you watch his seagreen eyes narrow.
“So you think you’re… special, is that it?” He tilts his head, studying a second too long. “A bit presumptuous… though, there’s something to be admired about someone recognizing and asserting their self-worth.” Did he not just admit to enjoying spending time with you? Your temper flares, and again, his eyes drop down, red and green catching and lingering on your nails gripping the wood beneath. They return quickly to your face, when you lean close enough for you to see the red veins of the infamous eye within what remains of it.
“If I'm not special, then why?” The challenge goes unanswered, and you’re already issuing a second when Silco finally thinks to open his mouth. “No, seriously - why? Why the best wines, those solo-chaperone missions? The nights after debriefs, that damn poker game… the way you haven’t actually looked away from me, or blinked for the last minute?”
At this, his remaining-eyelid finally twitches. Briefly, he scowled immediately after being called-out, and started to shift away. The effort falters, then halted immediately when you refuse to let him walk away from whatever this is, without actually saying something, and his eyes dart down to the hand that now clasps over his own.
“Silco,” You urge in the calmest tone you can muster. “Just be straight with me. For once. Please.”
The squeeze you give his hand was meant to catch his attention, but it only seems to leave Silco fixated on it. Staring, unreadable as he looks toward your joined hands - no, not unreadable.
Surprised. And wanting.
Wanting, just from your simple touch. You almost want to gloat, but that sliver of emotion is clouded by a look of confliction, as if it’s unknown to himself if he wants to take all you could offer with both hands and never let go, or pull away.
It’s almost pathetic, and perhaps desperate like he says, that you so badly want him to choose the former. Perhaps that's why you murmur his name so quietly, squeezing just so that it catches his attention. It drags, but eventually, Silco is looking back to you, with a deep exhale as he draws his gaze between the slip gap you and him have left between you, keeping you apart still.
Then, you watch in slow-motion as that clouding of doubt, confliction and cold crosses over his face once more, and Silco starts to pull away. Anger, hot and fuming and done with this bastard's stupidity is flaring wildly in you, and with a bite of nails digging into his hand, pinning it to the desk, your other hand comes up to practically snatch his chin and lower jaw, before dragging him right back over.
You caught him. Caught him, with that same look you’ve caught yourself having in the mirror at the mere thought of Silco, and now you refuse to let him go.
The first kiss is more teeth than lips, more fierce than fluff, and it’s perfect.
Moreso when, after the initial half-shout of shock at your sudden movements, and a moment of stillness as you take what could be your only-chance to outline every chipped-tooth in this insufferable man’s mouth, there’s a hand twisting in your hair to go along with the tongue that's twisting with yours.
Sloppy, rough and far more growly than you had been prepared for, and yes, it’s just as perfect as you can imagine. Silco must have similar sentiments, because the groan that vibrates straight into your mouth is pure-bliss when your free hand comes up to his cheek, outlining and trailing scars you imagine no other has been allowed to touch.
Perhaps the reason is because the reviled Kingpin of the Undercity all but melts into your palm at the touch, and if that’s what happens when you just touch his face…
You release him, but only long enough to round the desk entirely, and for Silco to get a handful of sarcastic words out, made weak by how breathless he is, “Well, if you’re going to be deciding for me-”
“You haven’t shoved me away yet,” You point out, and punctuate the statement by shoving him right back into his chair. The velvet-backed office chair creaks when he collapses back into it, and there’s a glint of outrage in his eyes when he goes to right himself - it dies rather quickly, when you throw one leg over his own and slid yourself into his lap, hands sliding up his rapidly-rising and falling chest.
“You’re a dumbass, and you took too long. I had to take initiative, or we would be stuck in your denial for another decade.” The blunt admission makes a frown appear on his face, one that quickly fades when you trail your fingers up, bypass his neck entirely, and outline his face between your hands. “An idiot, truly-”
“To be fair to my own intelligence, you never thought to be so bold until tonight,” His words end in a hum, as you’re soon smoothing your fingers along his hair and running your nails along his scalp. It’s fascinating, and you breathe deeply through parted lips as you watch his eye flicker shut as he seems torn between which hand to lean to.
It’s as if he’s never been touched so caringly by another person before. Or it’s simply been a long, long time.
“Did… would you have ever been bold enough?”
“I certainly wouldn’t have let you walk away tonight.” The red-eye boring into you is rejoined by the seagreen, as Silco looks up to you in a way that clears your lungs entirely of oxygen. There’s the briefest of hesitations, and the faintest of shakes at his inhale before his words come out in a low-roll, “It’s.. been a while, for me. Much of it is… but it’s been only you I've wanted.”
You knew that already, but can’t stop the curiosity from coloring your tone as you play and fiddle with the faint gray strands at his temple, “How long is a while, if you don’t mind…?”
“Hmm…” His eye shuts again. You have to tug at the hair for him to pay attention, an act he doesn’t seem too adverse with, but obeys silently. “How long have I reigned over The Last Drop?”
Oh.
Yeah, that’s… very much a while.
“And… I'm the first since the-?“
''You’re my only.”
Again, oh. You shift in his lap, hand trailing back down to grip at his vest with hooded eyes of your own. Silco leans fully into the hand that remains, watching you from beneath a hooded eye that seems earnest in a way no one would ever believe the Eye of Zaun to be - it’s almost too much, and you shift.
Immediately, the adoring glint in his gaze flares with heat - the same heat that torches your belly, when you shift again in your seat on his lap, and suddenly remember that ultimatum that got you here in the first place.
“Perhaps we can discuss the finer details another time,” Silco grunts, hands suddenly shifting up to cup your hips in a tight, inescapable grip that still allows you to roll down onto the bulge growing in his lap. “Ditto,” You say, your own hands fleeing down to begin working at buttons, the same time as fingers start to pluck at the tucked-shirt beneath your pants hem. “It’s been a while, might as well go all in-”
“Ha.”
A bit of a tighter grip as you lean forward, mouthing along his jawline between words, while nails bite into your hips even tighter at the sensations, “But i’m staying on top, I think i’ve earned it long enough for being patient with you-”
“A hard-bargain, but I accept.”
“Then no more waiting.”
It was bordering on tender and loving before, but what follows is desperation - it’s fitting, in a way. You love this man - foolish, stubborn, high-and-mighty, bastard of a man, but you care for him nonetheless. In the future, you imagine there will be time to watch his cold and fiery eyes once more soften at your touch, that near putty he had become in your hands when your nails grazed a certain spot behind his ear…
Now, however, there is a desperation. A longing that can’t be cured by anything soft, tender and loving, but hard, fierce, and immediate.
“Desperate indeed-”
“Ridiculous, indeed, why the fuck are there so many buttons-”
Something gets ripped - you’re unsure if it’s your own clothing, or his, but don’t really care to investigate exactly how much you’ll be owing a local tailor, with long fingers skimming down your back, catching beneath the waistline of the tight pants you wore, with purpose, this evening, and going even further, until-
Freezing, your heavy-breaths are the only audible thing in the room before, with awe coloring his tone, “You’re not wearing anything underneath?”
A chuckle reaches his ears, before you confirm with a second confession, “Haven’t for the last couple meetings.”
There's a growl to, appropriately, going along with the absolutely primal approach in which Silco works wrests you from your clothing, or at least just enough for more skin-to-skin contact - nails leaving lines against your skin clothing is pulled down to your thighs, shoving it further away with his palms before they find the curve of your ass again. The squeeze is nothing short of sinful, bordering on pain with the way nails bite into your skin as he gropes you with a pleased sigh, as if you in his lap, panting against his neck while he squeezes your ass, is more than enough for him.
But not enough for you, especially not when you hear the faint whine in his hiss when you suddenly nip at his throat, pulling back to admire the mark along his jugular, and speak.
“y…You done copping a feel? I’d like to get the rest of this off,” There’s one last, almost vengeful squeeze, before Silco eagerly drops his hand away, and you can’t waste anymore time. Not when too much has already passed.
There’s a pleased chuckle, and arm slinging loosely at your waist when your own eagerness nearly lets you fall from the seat. You’re thankful enough for it as it keeps you mostly straddled to his lap as you wiggle and pull out of your jeans, growing hotter as Silco’s chin drops just enough for his eyes to begin memorizing every detail of your bare-flesh. Pupils are blown out to the point even his bright green eye is eclipsed, and you’re quickly forgetting the exact-shade of red his ruined eye holds by the time you rid yourself of your pants, and reach for the buttons of your shirt-
“Wait,” It’s no demand, but habit and instinct leaves you still. Fingers hesitate on your side, before they’re gliding upward, rising when your breath catches as they find the buttons of your shirt. You’re nodding with granting-permission before Silco even looks up to you to ask, and soon deft fingers are working away at opening you up more and more for his gaze, and his touch.
Your name comes out in a sighing prayer from his lips, with your own parting with a sigh of Silco’s as his hands cup at your chest. Far gentler than his earlier gripes - nearly tender, in a way that has your stomach twisting in familiar and strange ways for him - you arch your back when they find nipples, pinching in response to the roll of your hips as you settle into his lap.
“Sure it’s been a while? I-i can hardly even tell-” “Oh hush.”
You’re certain a button pops off with how quickly Silco reaches between you to unbutton the front of his pants - not before trailing his hand between the already-soaked lower lips between your thighs, letting out a deep sigh that mingles in the air with your own pleasure. Raising yourself just enough, you stare down parted, panting lips as long strokes are given to the shaft.
Preparation is appreciated, but quickly proven unnecessary after he lines himself up, with one hand gripping at the bunched-fabric of your shirt at your lower-back that twists it even tighter when you lower yourself onto him.
The stretch around him is better than you’ve ever been able to imagine (or attempt to replicate with your own fingers) and you need a moment to grip at his chest, nails biting into the exposed skin from what clothing you had managed to pry from his body. After a moment of heavy breathing, and simply reveling at how perfectly this man fills you, Silco’s own breath catches hard when you slide your hands up to cup behind his neck for support, before you raise yourself just enough to come down fully onto him.
You actually whine at the sensation, but that’s minor compared to the utterly feral noise that rumbles from Silco’s chest. Hips rock again, seeking and quickly finding the friction that has you curling fingers into the short hairs at the base of his skull, while claw-marks are being left along your skin as his face tucks into your shoulder with a growl of your name.
In total honesty, you hadn’t expected this, any of it. You had braced, trained yourself to walk out of this office in disappointment.
Based on the way he thrusts up to meet you next, leaving you seeing stars and his teeth leaving imprints on your shoulder from the way you clench and cry around him, you’re not sure if Silco’s going to let you be able to leave walking.
Almost frantically, a hand snakes down between your legs at the next errant, seeking thrusts he makes upwards as he holds you in a vice-like grip against his chest, and though it’s your own fingers that begin making tight, swift circles around your clit, you duck your head beneath Silco’s chin with a sob of his name on your lips as you ride.
His name seems to be the trigger that shoots him into you, and you almost still entirely when his first jet of release strikes deep inside, his own pleasure spent - rather swiftly - with a groan of your name rumbled directly into the skin he’s bitten down on in his release. Yours, despite the surprise of such a sudden climax, comes quickly as well as you rub yourself near-raw from the speed of your fingers, unable to resist creeping lower to feel the way you’re stretched around him -
The band snaps in your belly, and even with the softening cock within you, you can't resist sughing and whimpering with every twitch and writhe of yourself within his lap, unhindered, even by the iron bands of his arms around you tighten as you rock yourself through the rolling waves of your own climax. It's only when Silco's breath is whistling through his teeth between his rapid pants, does your fingers finally slide from your sensitive nub and you fall limp against Silco's chest, panting just as harshly as he is.
"... that... that was-"
"Quick." He interrupts you, but takes a second to catch his breath before continuing in a flat tone, "I'm aware. It..." There's a hesitation in his collected tone, and you raise your head up enough to catch sight of his ears, tinted in red.
"It's been a while?" You offered gently, nails returning to card through the back of his hair as he ducks his chin further down, and arms tighten around you at the sensation. He's caught you, and clearly doesn't plan to let go anytime soon - and you don't plan on leaving, a smile flickering on your face even as the mixture of slick between your legs begins to cool with the deep bite on your shoulder beginning to ache, all you can focus on is the way his breath catches as you gently scratch along that spot behind his ear.
Another gentle inhale of his collar, before your turning to press a kiss there. "It was perfect, better than I ever dreamt it would be," You leave another kiss in the time it takes for him to find his voice, and it's colored in faint astonishment, "How long?"
"Hm... I dunno, how long have I been working at The Last Drop?"
"Oh."
The chuckle slips out from you, though it fades into a slightly ticked-off sigh as you tug at the ends of greying-hairs in mock annoyance, "That's why I was tired of the little playing-dumb act. I know it's been a while," You didn't dare voice the sneaking suspicion that not only was it lack of recent-experience that kept Silco from admitting his feelings, but also the fact that the last several years hadn't been kind to him, nor his trust of others, explaining his earlier signs of conflicting. "But I... I didn't want to keep us waiting, Silco. I wanted to know it was something, that I wasn't alone in how I felt-"
"You aren't," Raising his head, Silco gives you a soft look, reaching up with a hand to sweep back the hairs laying ruffled and sweaty locks out of your face, pausing before moving close to brush his thin lips there. "You haven't been, not... not for some time."
"But you still kept me waiting."
There's a faint sigh against your skin, and an even fainter smile. "I have a feeling I will not be forgiven for that mistake anytime soon."
Ah, so maybe he isn't as much as a moron as you thought. Still, you only chuckle in response, kidding the bruise left at his neck from your earlier minstrations before burrowing your face into the crook of his shoulder, "Well, I suppose you're on your way to making it up for me." You admit, scratching once more behind his ear to hear his breath hitching, and the pleased hum that follows as you smile against his skin. "Letting me take charge was a good points in your favor."
"Ah, good to know." There's a pause, long and quiet.
It makes the gasp that's all but punched from you with the languishing roll of his hips all the more louder.
Hand tightens at your waist, while Silco's other arm moves to clear off the entirety of his desk with a single sweep of his arm. "However, it's come to my attention that while you have been rewarded for your paitence, there's been quite a bit that I myself have been considering for a very, very long time..."
The desk is hard against your back, but it's difficult to focus on as Silco lays you on-top of it's letting himself between your legs. It seems now that has you in-grasp, he loathes to let you go, as his hands smooth up along your thighs, before sneaking under to cup once more at your ass as he smirks down at you with so, so much promise.
"So, I believe it's my turn."