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    Summary

    Vander’s lips curl into a slow, saccharine grin. “Happy Birthday, Sil.”

    Silco stills. Is it truly? He’d forgotten, in preoccupation with everything else that had been going on recently. He offers a halfhearted scoff.

    “I think I’m past the age for well-wishes.”

    Vander skirts his way around the bar, meeting Silco on the other side, leaning into his space. “I don’t think so. I think it’s another year older, which means another year you’re alive and with me. Sometimes I think about how easily it could have gone another way, and I get so thankful I still have you in my life. What Ekko said the other day—“

    “That’s all in the past,” Silco assures him. “You stupid sap, of course I’m with you. Where else would I be?”

    Silco finds himself drawn between a pair of overbearingly large arms, and Vander’s face softens, his smile so incandescently happy that Silco can hardly stand to look at it for fear of being blinded.

    “Let me take you upstairs,” Vander whispers. “Let me make you feel good tonight.”

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