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Vander steps back, narrowing his eyes and critically examining the former storeroom.
(Big window added, check. New gas lamps, check. Floor scrubbed clean, check. Wide sturdy tables and comfortable chairs, check. Easels, paints, and other art supplies that Powder had deemed essential, check. Wardrobe with smocks, old worn-out shirts and pants, and a mirror, since Silco is so fussy about his clothes and will probably insist on changing when painting, check.
The renovations are done; the storeroom has been transformed into a nice cozy art studio that Silco can comfortably and privately paint in.
Now to somehow try and keep Silco from examining said room until his birthday.)
Vander nods to himself and takes out a rag to give a last polish to the table, rearranging the other birthday gifts before turning around and leaving, locking the door after himself.
Unfortunately, right as he is turning the key, Silco comes out of their renovated study and raises an eyebrow.
“What have you stored up here that is so precious that it needs to be locked up?”
“…Noxian whiskey, you know the kids will try to get into it otherwise.” Vander casually drops the key back into his pocket, quickly trying to divert his husband’s attention. “How are the renovations in the study?”
Silco hums, eyeing the door. “Adequate—at least it’s big enough now that you can have your own desk with papers piled all over it instead of encroaching upon mine.”
“There’s a system to it,” Vander chides, slinging an arm around Silco’s waist.
“A system,” Silco snorts, reaching up to lightly flick Vander’s cheek. “A system that only you understand—”
“But it works, doesn’t it?” Vander grasps Silco’s hand to kiss his knuckles, running a finger over the ring on Silco’s hand.
Silco chuckles, stroking his cheek. “As long as you manage to teach it to Vi properly, I suppose it’s fine. Now, tell me, what’s actually hidden in that storeroom?”
(Too sharp for words, his Silco. Nothing escapes him.
But he has some weaknesses as well, and it’s even half true…)
“Powder’s birthday present to you,” Vander sighs. “But if you really want to ruin the surprise—”
“Why should we spoil her fun?” Silco asks, immediately backing off like Vander knew he would for his favorite child, but then adds, “Although, must we really commemorate me aging yet another year?”
“Yes,” Vander replies firmly, hugging Silco close.
(Because it’s a miracle they get to grow old together.
Everything about their life together right now is a miracle—from their children, to the independent nation of Zaun, to Silco actually forgiving and trusting him again—it’s everything Vander has ever dreamed of and more.
Of course they have to celebrate it, and any excuse to finally give Silco his own private space for his art is long-deserved and something he should have done for Silco a long time ago.
It had been a pain to make dummy blueprints for the renovations that were detailed enough that Silco wouldn’t suspect anything, but it’ll be worth it, even with this little hiccup, to see Silco’s reaction.
And then maybe he can also eventually convince Silco to let him hang one of his paintings in their office sometime, for his own birthday…)
Silco lets out a long, put-upon sigh, wrapping his arms around Vander’s neck. “Fine, if you must. …are you baking the cake?”
“If Powder gets involved, it will only be under my supervision,” Vander assures him, kissing his cheek.
“Powder’s creativity extends out in all directions…but yes, perhaps that’s wise, given how the other children reacted to her cake last time.” Silco purses his lips.
“We didn’t have enough bathrooms to deal with all them coming down with the shits, although that’s fixed now,” Vander replies with a sigh.
“It still could have been a stomach bug—”
“That didn’t affect either of us?” Vander raises an eyebrow.
“You are always ridiculously resilient, and I am steeped in Shimmer,” Silco points out haughtily, poking him in the chest.
Vander just leans forward to kiss his forehead. “Either way, the cake will be amazing and not require us to stress test the new plumbing this time, and you’re going to have a great birthday with amazing presents.”
Silco relaxes into Vander’s arms and says with a shrug, “…well, I suppose there are one or two advantages to getting older…and the night is ours.”
“Of course,” Vander replies, smiling wolfishly at Silco before kissing him.
--
The cake was a gorgeous three-tiered lemon, buttercream and blueberry confection that Vander had lovingly put together and Powder had decorated beautifully with icing. Silco had loved it, even if he had sighed in a put-upon way when Vander had insisted on everyone singing to him before he blew out the candles. Then he’d raised a mildly intrigued eyebrow when Vander led him upstairs towards the rest of his gifts.
“So, it’s not just Powder’s gift hidden there then?” Silco asks lightly, finishing off the last of his Noxian whiskey.
“Everyone contributed,” Vander explains as he unlocks and opens the door.
Silco blinks as he steps inside, and then his eyes widen as he takes it all in. His gaze darts from the easels to the windows to the hanging plants to the paints to the lamps to the flask on the table, and then he reaches out to touch the paints, and the canvas on the easel, before he glances back at Vander, opening his mouth and then closing it.
(Wow, he’s actually managed to render Silco speechless.
That has to be a good sign, right?)
“Viktor and Jayce did the gas lamps,” Vander says, gesturing around the room, “Powder and Ekko did the art supplies, Claggor and Mylo decided on the plants, the flask is from Vi, and—”
“And the idea was all yours, wasn’t it?” Silco asks, stepping forward and looking up at him.
“Do you like it?” Vander asks, swallowing and taking in the way the light plays across the harsh angles of Silco’s face and the brightness of his good eye.
Silco hooks his arms around Vander’s neck, staring into his eyes. His voice is hoarse when he says, “You knew I was going to love it.”
“I hoped,” Vander admits, pressing their foreheads together. “Will you use it?”
“Of course—I’ve got an idea for a painting already,” Silco replies, smiling and playing with Vander’s hair.
“And maybe you’ll have an art show soon?” Vander asks hopefully.
Silco gives him a look before dragging one finger into the knot of his cravat and tugging it loose, saying, “If you’ll drop that topic, I’ll give you a private show tonight…”
“It’s your birthday, and I’m the one getting a present?”
“Are you complaining?” Silco asks haughtily, pushing Vander into the chair by the table and sliding into his lap.
“Of course not,” Vander laughs, hands cradling Silco’s narrow hips.
“Good,” Silco licks his lips. “Because I love this art studio, and I will thank the children tomorrow, but tonight, I’m going to devour you.”
“Definitely not complaining about that,” Vander says hoarsely, scooting back to reach over to lock the door.
Silco hums as he starts to unbutton Vander’s shirt, his mouth curved into a sinuous smirk. “It’s as much a gift to me as to you, and what better way to properly break in this room?”
“Happy birthday, Silco,” Vander says tenderly, pulling Silco into his chest. “Another year older, and now we’re both—”
Silco cuts Vander off with his mouth, his tongue delving in and twisting wickedly until they’re both panting. Then he draws away to murmur, “None of that—I don’t think age has slowed us down much at all, has it?”
Vander’s hands drift lower, and he kisses Silco’s scarred cheek before running his tongue along the rim of Silco’s ear. “Maybe I need a reminder.”
Silco smirks, shivering in Vander’s hands while trailing his fingers down the back of his neck. “Prove yourself to me again, Hound.”
And as Vander growls and pushes Silco across the table, nosing at his neck, Silco laughs high and joyful, happily letting him do whatever he pleases.
(Can a birthday be any better than this?
There’s always next year—or even his own birthday—and there will be plenty of chances to find out, but here and now, he couldn’t be any happier.)