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You’d absolutely had enough of this man.
Every day you begged him to come to bed on time. And every day he said “Darling, you know I’m busy. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
So every night you’d stay up for another thirty minutes, in bed, reading. And he never joined you. So you fell asleep alone, and only found him at your side when you woke up in the morning.
And even that was if you were lucky. Oftentimes you woke up, still alone, because he’d gotten up before you to begin his work day.
You were absolutely, positively done with your husband overworking and neglecting both himself and you.
So now, as the time edged close to eight PM, you were drawing a bath. You threw a handful of small, dissolving, calming beads in and lit a candle. Silco was going to come with you and relax and let you love on him whether he liked it or not.
The water steamed, warm and prepared for its recipient. You stood and edged your way into Silco’s office.
He paid you no mind, his cigar held between two fingers and his other hand coiled around a dip pen as he wrote some sort of letter. You eased into the space behind him, between his desk chair and his large, sprawling window. “Silco,” you murmured into his ear softly, your arms winding around his neck, over his shoulders. He only offered a small, questioning hum in response.
“I’m sick of your behavior,” you said, tipping your head to the side and resting your temple against the fluff atop his head.
He raised a brow and turned to look at you. “Oh? How so?”
Your hands rested on his chest and you gently toyed with the buttons and buckles there. “You leave me alone every single night.”
“I’m a very bus-”
“I’m not done!” Your hand slid up his neck and you clamped your fingers over his mouth. You felt his submissive sigh, and he slowly leaned back, setting down his pen but keeping his cigar elevated. “And you lie… you tell me thirty minutes, but I stay up every night for that time, sometimes even an hour, and I still find the bed empty.”
Silco remained silent, listening obediently.
“So I’m not giving you a choice tonight. You’re gonna finish whatever letter you’re writing, and then the rest of your work can wait until tomorrow.”
Your husband lifted his hand and gently coiled his fingers around your wrist, tugging your hand away from his mouth. “My dear, I’m sorry that I never join you. I would love to, but I’m working from mornin-”
“You need to take care of yourself. And if you won’t, I will. Now finish that and then come to the bathroom.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him by grabbing his jaw and turning his face toward you, pressing your lips to his. You felt his nose rubbing against yours and relished in the intimacy of a kiss.
“Bathroom,” you repeated, pressed another kiss (this time to the tip of his nose), and walked away. You heard him draw cigar smoke into his mouth and blow it out before you disappeared into the bathroom.
You undressed yourself, then wrapped a towel around your body for warmth and waited.
A mere ten minutes passed before Silco was pushing the door open. His eyes went almost comically wide when he saw that all you had around your body was a towel. You couldn’t hold back a loving giggle.
“I’m gonna give you a bath,” you said softly, standing up and allowing the towel to fall away, “and you’re gonna like it.” You used both hands to cup his cheeks, giving special care to his scarred one. You watched his throat bob once.
He reached up to begin undressing himself, but you swatted his hands away. “Ah-ah. I get to undress my own husband.” You heard a chuckle escape him, but his hands obediently fell to his sides.
You began working on his outfit. You’d helped him undress and watched him take his outfit off so many times that you were able to do it nearly flawlessly, despite the overly complicated nature. You took your time and appreciated revealing his skin slowly. You weren’t worried about the water in the bath cooling because, luckily, you were privileged enough to have a heated tub.
You ran your hands over his chest and down his stomach, over to his waistband. You were able to make relatively quick work of the front flap. You slid his trousers and boxers down his legs, then held his hand while he stepped out of them.
You lifted your head and gazed into Silco’s eyes, staring at him silently for several moments. Then you took a step closer and pressed your body to his, your arms winding around him in a hug. You felt his chest, warm and living, against your own. You could feel every breath he took. His cheek rubbed against yours and he began pressing kisses to your neck and bare shoulders. His lips were so soft.
“Into the bath,” you urged, tugging yourself away. The tub was large enough that the both of you could fit, which was why you stripped yourself as well.
You stepped in first, leaning back in the warm, soothing water. You motioned between your legs, clearly wanting Silco to sit there with his back to you.
The man obliged. You could see an adorably soft pink blush dusting his weathered cheeks.
He sank into the water in front of you. You were quick to wrap your arms around his waist and pull him back against you, closing your eyes when his head met your shoulder. His knees just barely poked out from above the water, and his arms drifted down. You felt his right hand on your right ankle, his left very soothingly rubbing your left leg.
You both sat in the warm water, lightly dusted with a topping of bubbles, silent, for several minutes. Silco eventually turned onto his side and sank lower, resting his head on your chest. Your arms came up around him and you stroked his side and shoulder, then threaded your fingers into his hair. You made quick work of ridding his hair of the ridiculous amount of gel he applied to keep the natural waves down.
You didn’t know why he did that. His natural, wavy hair was gorgeous. You dipped your head down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then his ear.
“Thank you for this, my love,” his voice sounded quietly. You made a quiet noise. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you any attention.” His fingers gingerly ran over your hip in apology. You lowered your hand beneath the water and held his.
“I just want you to take care of yourself,” you murmured, “I know you have a nation to build. But none of this works without you.”
You slid your hands up his body and cupped his neck, using your thumbs to tilt his jaw up, gazing into his eyes. His lips were slightly parted and you could see his adorably chipped teeth.
“If the man holding this whole operation together crumbles because he’s overworked himself, nobody in Zaun gets their freedom.” You closed your eyes and lowered your head until your forehead was pressed to his. “You need rest. You need to be happy, first and foremost.”
You hesitated, then added, “And I deserve to be happy, too.”
“Yes, you do,” Silco agreed, turning so that he was completely facing you. He tucked one leg beneath him and slid closer to you, further between your legs. The water sloshed a bit as he moved. He pressed his lips to yours and you let out a soft, appreciative moan. His hands ran down your sides, over your waist. He wrapped his arms around your form.
You tipped your head to deepen the kiss for a moment before breaking it.
“Let me get you washed up, okay?” you murmured softly. Silco looked like he wanted to object, “You first, darling,” but you silenced him with a glare. He relented and turned around in your hold.
You used a cup to dip some of the water out of the tub and dump it onto Silco’s head, wetting his hair. Your fingers threaded into his hair and you massaged his scalp, working shampoo deep into his hair. It was so soft.
You rinsed the shampoo out through repeated motions of scooping water, dumping it into his hair, and working your fingers through the soft strands.
Then you were washing his body. You dumped some body wash onto a soft, clean rag, and then began massaging your husband. You ran the rag over his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen. You used one hand to hold his jaw, the other containing the rag, and gently wiped his neck. You felt him tense for a moment when your hand was wrapped entirely around his throat, but you leaned down and pressed kisses and he relaxed with a quiet breath. Your lips met the nape of his neck, his shoulderblades, his shoulders. You began wiping his lower half, your hands working down his legs. Over his thighs, between his legs. You had to stand for a moment and sit between his legs to rub his calves and feet.
You loved every single part of Silco.
You slowly crawled over top of him until he had to lift his jaw to stare up at you. You giggled and lifted the rag, gently wiping at his face. You were very careful around his left eye.
Silco stared up at you with those mismatched eyes of his. One a deep, sea blue-green, the other a beautiful color that reminded you of lava. You returned his stare, then leaned down and kissed him again.
You squeaked when his arms wrapped around you and tugged you down over top of him. Your body weight landed atop him and you felt his bare body pressed against yours.
This time, your head was tucked into his neck.
“My turn,” was all he said, quietly. He took the rag from your hand and you let him do so. You closed your eyes, relishing the comfortable, warm domesticity of your husband bathing you. His hands were so loving and tender as he washed you. You felt the warmth of water in your hair, his hand cradling the back of your neck to keep you still. You tried to lift your head but his grip tightened, so you obediently remained tucked beneath his jaw.
He rubbed every part of you, cherishing your form, the way you did him.
Janna, how you loved him. You were so glad you pushed him to spend this time with you tonight. And if all went to plan, he’d go to sleep right on time with you, too.
Silco dipped his head and pressed his lips to your shoulder, lingering there while he rubbed your thigh with the soft cloth.
You closed your eyes and turned to your side, hunching your head down with your body entirely pressed against him.
“I don’t often show you how much I love you,” Silco murmured, his voice sounding a bit strained. He turned his head so that his lips rubbed your neck. “I feel like I’ve taken you for granted, my love. Please know how grateful I am to have you by my side every day.”
You smiled against his chest, lifting one hand to hold his shoulder. “Yeah, you don’t tell me how much you love me a lot,” you agreed, “but I know you do. You show it in little ways.”
You remembered several moments fondly, your smile growing. “You give me your coat when I’m cold. You let me sit by you while you work and you rub my hair. You pour two glasses without asking.
I know you think about me, Sil. It’s just… It’s nice to have moments like these.”
You hesitated. “And I really would love to cuddle in bed, baby. I don’t like how late you to go sleep.” Silco’s throat rumbled in a soft hum against you. “I’ll… try.”
That was all you could ask for, you supposed.
The Eye of Zaun, making time for his love.
“Time for bed,” you whispered, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jaw. You stood up and pulled the plug of the bath, then wrapped your towel around yourself. You helped your husband up and wrapped a towel around him, drying him off and patting his hair a bit. It could air dry overnight.
Silco returned the favor, using your towel to dry your form. He then helped you into your bed clothes before you could help him into his first.
He was just so gentle with you. Others saw him as a hard, unfeeling man. A revolutionist who would not hesitate to do what needed to be done, damn anyone who got in his way.
But he was also just that: a man.
And you saw this side of him far more than the shimmer dealing druglord-chembaron that everyone else did. He smiled at you so softly that you felt an ache in your chest.
You tugged his comfortable night clothes around his body and buttoned up the front, then helped him step into his pajama pants. You wrapped an arm around his waist and led him into your bedroom, tugging the covers down for both of you. You slid into bed first, then Silco directly beside you.
He pulled the covers over your bodies. You squeaked when you felt him tug you into his arms, then flop down, your fronts facing each other. You looked up and smiled, appreciating the soft glow of his aching eye.
“You took your shot today, right?” you asked quietly, tracing the patterns of his scars. He nodded, capturing your hand in his and meeting your palm with his lips. “Jinx took care of it in the morning.” “Good.”
You burrowed closer, shoving your leg between both of his and seemingly trying to meld yourself with him. He held you close and you did the same.
“Good night, my love. Sleep well.” “I’ll sleep much better with you here with me,” you whimpered quietly. He buried his face in your damp hair and you heard him breathe in your scent.
“Good. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Mhm.”