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Silco sat across from Vander with a sinking pit growing in his stomach. He had a feeling what Vander was about to say to him and he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it. Vander had that hesitant face of stressed waryness that put Silco on edge. He had the same expression when he admitted he had burned Silco’s old paintings after their fallout and also when he broke the news that Powder had gotten paint over his good coat (he didn’t mind that much). It was the face he put on when he had something to say he didn’t want to.
Silco had been back living in the Last Drop for over a year now. He and Vander had reconnected three years ago and had started to work together again after Violet’s death. It took awhile for Silco to finally give up his vision with shimmer and instead pursue more legal paths to earn Zaun’s equality. When he had done so, Silco needed a place to stay. Vander had offered the Drop. After all, Silco still technically co-owned the place. He had a right to be there as much as Vander and the kids did.
So stay at the Last Drop he did. He had a fold out cot he slept on in the backroom and kept few personal possessions. Vander had tried to convince him to let him get Silco a wardrobe or trunk to make at least some kind of space for himself but Silco adamantly refused.
“This isn’t permanent,” Silco would say as he finished up some chore he had taken upon himself. “I’ll only be here until I can get back on my feet.”
What that meant was a mystery to anyone. Yes, maybe Silco was in some danger alone because he had created enemies in his chem-baron life but he also knew how to defend himself well enough. And even without selling shimmer, he had plenty of money left to support himself for a good while. Still, he stayed in the ale stenched back room of the Last Drop, assisting in filling any role needed to keep the place running smoothly for the day. He rarely took a paycheck or day off.
The kids were all already asleep, bar closed up neatly for the night, and Vander had asked to speak with Silco privately. Silco had finished the shift with anxiety, rehearsing what he would say to Vander. Because he was sure the time had finally come that Vander was going to ask him to leave.
“…I can be out in just…three, no, two weeks,” Silco muttered, climbing the stairs to Vander’s room. “It would mean a lot if I could retain the job?…no, uh, I would like to stay in touch?…no issue if not…oh, hells…”
Vander let him in with little ado, grumbling something Silco could only vaguely make out. He gestured for Silco to take a seat on his neatly made bed as he pulled out his desk chair to sit across from said spot. Which led them to now.
Silco sat up straight and tense, hands fiddling slightly in his lap. Vander chewed at his bottom lip, hunched forward, starting at Silco.
“I think you may know what I need to tell you,” Vander began.
Silco briefly closed his eye, exhaling slowly as he tilted his head slightly away from Vander. “Yes, I think so.”
“I’m sorry,” Vander said with strain in his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this but…it has gone on long enough and it isn’t fair.”
He was right, Silco thought. Powder was growing, they all needed more space. He was just dead weight.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Vander continued. “I want you to be able to do whatever you want to do, to be happy—”
I’ll never be as happy anywhere else but here. It was a dangerous thought but true nonetheless.
“—and, gods, Sil, I really want you to be happy.”
Then don’t make me leave. Please.
“So, er,” Vander scratched the back of his neck. “If it makes you uncomfortable—?”
“It is fine,” Silco said shortly. “It is less than ideal. But I have dealt with worse.”
Vander seemed to physically deflate. “Of…of course. I…I really am sorry. I’ve tried to hold it in for as long as possible but it has just gotten to the point where enough is enough, hasn’t it?”
“If you think so.” Silco’s tone had a biting edge to it. Yes, the arrangements here were not perfect but Silco had done some good, helping around the bar. He felt he was owed some kind of credit here.
“I do,” Vander sat up with a stern face. “As…as men and as leaders, there is a certain kind of control we have to have, isn’t there?”
Silco’s jaw clenched. Well, this was just going too far. Silco exercised monumental levels of control every damn day. To have Vander sit and accuse him of otherwise? His old self would not have stood for it. But he just clenched his fists and spoke through grit teeth:
“When should I leave?”
Best to just know Vander’s expectation here and barter with time later. It wasn’t like he had much to pack up but he did have loose ends of business and communication he would need to finish off before taking his leave. Not to mention securing a half decent place in the Lanes or at least the Fissures, though with how the economy has turned lately that may not be as hard as it once was. And then there were the kids to consider…poor Powder would be upset…
Vander let out a deep breath and turned his gaze to the floor. “As soon as you’d like…”
It was Silco’s turn to stare now. Vander couldn’t even look him in the eye after kicking him to the curb? That familiar rage at the man’s attitudes stirred up in his chest. He stood up suddenly from the bed, fists tight at his sides.
“Well then, I won’t waste any time.”
Silco stepped around to march past Vander but was barely able to take a full step before a large hand wrapped around his wrist.
“Vander—?”
“Just…just let me say something,” Vander looked back up at him with soft eyes. Silco looked back into the silvery blue shine of Vander’s gaze and found he didn’t have the strength to pull away.
“You…you are so beautiful.”
…what?
Whatever Vander could have said in that moment, Silco had expected that the least. Silco opened his mouth—to say what, he had no clue—but Vander cut him off.
“Please, Sil, let me say this. If you are gonna leave, then I gotta at least say it all once. I know you don’t owe me nothing but…but I guess I’ve just always been selfish like that.”
Vander’s grip on Silco’s wrist momentarily tightened.
“Ever since I got you back, I have been so proud of you. Of us. Of the kids. And the entire Undercity. It has been…really, really good. And it’s all because of you. I don’t know if that is what started this or if this is something I’ve just always had but could never admit but for the past year, loving you has been the easiest part of my life.”
WHAT?
Silco’s good eye went as wide as his lidless one. His mouth was dry and if it weren’t for the press of Vander’s fingers on his flesh and the sting of his own nails digging into his palm, he would have assumed he was dreaming. Vander continued.
“I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you. I know that. But…like I said. I’m a selfish man. And if you would allow, I would like to keep loving you.”
Vander hurried through the next words as though worried Silco may speak before he could finish. “I am not asking for you to reciprocate, of course! I just mean…staying in my atmosphere. Let me help you. Whatever you need, I want to be able to give it to you. I want to care for you as much as you will let me. Because I know this love won’t go away and without you, I swear, Sil, I’ll die. I can’t go without you again. You are everything to me.”
Silco’s lips had parted open in disbelief at Vander’s finishing statement. The two men stayed there, both frozen for a moment. Vander’s grip loosened, letting Silco’s hand fall away idly. Silco withdrew it now that he had full control of it again, cradling it up by his chest, rubbing where Vander had held him.
Eventually, he found the strength to speak.
“So…”
“Yes?” Vander asked, anxiously expectant.
“So …you aren’t kicking me out?”
Vander blinked in surprise and put voice to the word that was repeating over and over in Silco’s own head. “What?”
“You aren’t kicking me out.” Silco repeated but it wasn’t a question this time.
“Kick you out?” Vander echoed, shaking his head. “No! Of course not, why would I do that? You can leave if you want, of course, but I would never make you.”
Silco’s eye narrowed. “Then…you want me to stay?”
“Yes!” Vander insisted. “But not if it makes you uncomfortable. If I make you uncomfortable.”
Silco didn’t let any emotions rise to the surface. Not until he fully had a grasp on what exactly the hell this was.
“And you would make me uncomfortable because…you…love…me?” The last three words had disbelieving emphasis that only grew as they were uttered.
“Yes…I-I thought you knew…?” Vander’s brow was creased. “I mean, it has been harder to hide lately. Did you…did you not know?”
Silco’s voice raised, eye flashing. “No! No, I didn’t fucking know, Vander!”
“But…” Vander’s eyes darted across Silco’s face as if searching for evidence. Of what, Silco didn’t know. “Wait, you thought I brought you up here to tell you I wanted you to move out?”
“Yes!” Silco nearly shouted back.
“No,” Vander stood up from the chair, vehemently. “No, I don’t want that. That is the exact opposite of what I want. Please, don’t leave, Silco.”
“I’m not leaving, you oaf! But you are going to clarify here and now what the hell you mean by that!”
“I mean that I love you.”
Silco could have torn out his hair. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” Vander put a calming hand on both Silco’s tense shoulders. “That I think you’re perfect. And I want you in my life for as long as you will allow. And I want to take care of you and hold you and—”
Vander forcefully cut himself off. He took a deep breath before he tried to clear the air for the very confused Silco looking up at him.
“I realized I loved you just after you moved back in, Sil. I kept it under wraps as best I could for as long as I could because I know you didn’t ask for it. This is my responsibility, not yours. You’ve been working so hard to heal and move past all of our old shit, I would never have thrust this on you unless I felt like I had to. Because lately, my control has been slipping. And I don’t want to accidentally hurt you because of my lack of control.”
Flashes of recent memory surfaced to the front of Silco’s mind. Vander brushing against him at the bar, unnecessarily close. Predicting those bad days and going out of his way to make Silco’s life a little easier: breakfast served in bed, coffee replenished without asking, making him rest when Silco wouldn’t have chosen to himself. A prickling feeling at the back of his neck, like he was being spied on, and when he turned his head, finding Vander’s eyes flicking guiltily away.
Had it really been there this entire time? Was Vander telling the truth? Could Vander, the Hound of the Underground, the protector of the Lanes, love Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the “dirty little thing?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew,” Vander’s hands fell away from his shoulders. Silco found himself mourning the loss of warmth there. “I should have prepared you better. Not, er, springing this on you like I did. Sorry.”
“I…” Silco started to speak but stopped. He didn’t know what to say. This was all so alien to him.
It had been so long since he had considered feelings of this nature. He had nearly forgotten they existed outside the realms of gossip and books. And to consider himself a part of such an equation? Unthinkable.
Yes, he had once had his fair share of partners and trysts in his earlier days but that ship had sailed the moment he had thrown that molotov cocktail on the bridge. He had bigger problems, no time to deal with trivial things like romance and sex.
Silco looked at the aged face of his oldest friend looking at him so softly. Nostalgic warmth returned to his chest. Hells, he had once held a torch for Vander, hadn’t he? It seemed like a millennia ago but yes it had once been there. Everyone had known it too, Silco was sure, save for Vander himself. Why else would Silco, the friendless wonder, the rogue, the rebel, trail beside Vander with such loyalty, beaming at the taller, stronger man at the smallest sliver of attention? Their bond had grown beyond a simple infatuation but it never quite went away.
The suffocating waters of the Pilt should have washed whatever embers remained of that fire away.
Now, Silco had to reevaluate if that were still true or not.
The silence had dragged on too long for Vander it seemed. He spoke, imploring, tilting his head just slightly.
“Please stay, Silco. If not for me or the Lanes, then for the kids. You know Powder adores you. If it makes you too uncomfortable, knowing how I feel, I will do anything to make it right. We could…I dunno, make you a side apartment for you or something. Just…don’t leave me again.”
“I’m not leaving.” Silco had no hesitance saying that. A weight had lifted off him the moment he realized he wasn’t going to be thrown out of the Last Drop.
“Thank Janna,” Vander sighed. “Good.”
“And…” Silco needed to say something else. He had to address the revelation Vander had dropped on him. “…you don’t make me uncomfortable, Vander. Although I have a hard time believing you really love me.”
“I do,” Vander said with such a deeply immediate confidence it took Silco aback. “I do. You’re everything to me.”
“Why?” Silco asked, genuinely perplexed. “Why would you love me? After everything?”
“I think I always have,” Vander swallowed hard. “In one way or another. Maybe I was just too blind to see it at times. Too full of myself or preoccupied. I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I should have…maybe if I had, I would never have…” Vander closed his eyes and turned his face away in shame.
Silco’s tension eased. “Vander…”
“Don’t try to comfort me, Sil,” Vander said gruffly. “I need to feel this sometimes. What I did to you. I don’t always need the forgiveness. I know it is there, but…let me have this sometimes, okay?”
Silco could understand that. He didn’t have clean hands either. “Okay.”
There was a pause before Vander could bring himself to return his gaze on Silco’s placid face.
“I’m not asking you to feel the same for me. I know that ship has sailed. I know that. I just want to stay friends. I want you here. I don’t want this to be the reason I lose you again. I’m not fucking this up again. I swear, whatever it takes to make it up to you—”
“Vander,” Silco interrupted the plea, sharply.
Vander went quiet.
“Vander,” Silco said with a more even cadence. “I’m not uncomfortable. I have a hard time believing it, yes,—” Vander opened his mouth but Silco continued without giving him space to talk back, “—but that doesn’t mean that I think it is a bad thing.”
“I like where we are at. I love being here. We’re building something real here and I am not just going to throw that away. I’ll fight for it if I have to. And I don’t care if this is a part of that.” Silco recognized the sparks of hope lit behind Vander’s eye and continued, “That doesn’t mean I know how I do feel about this yet. But whatever it is, it isn’t bad. It won’t make me leave. Or hate you.”
Before he could overthink it, Silco reached his lithe hand out and intertwined his fingers with Vander’s.
“You are my friend, Vander. I won’t forsake that.”
Being called a friend after a confession of love may have been a disappointment to some but to Vander, it was more than he felt he deserved. The wounds between the two men cut deep but every affirmation, every touch, the more time that passed with peace between them, healed the cuts a bit more. Elation bloomed inside Vander and he smiled down at Silco who returned the favor modestly.
“Thank you, Silco,” Vander squeezed Silco’s smaller hand slightly. “I won’t let you down. I promise. We’re doing good.”
“We are, aren’t we?” Silco’s half smile widened, squeezing back Vander’s hand back.
“Yeah,” Vander sighed.
Nothing here was perfect. When it came to him and Silco, nothing ever was. They were rather twisted people in similar ways but also unique in others. They broke things, had broken each other, and were ruined in their own rights. What semblances of love either had would be tainted. Hardened, difficult to mold. But it was there and Vander would shape it into whatever form Silco would allow. Vander would fight for the time it would take for what was between them to soften and when it did, he knew whatever came out of it would be something whole. Scarred and rough but whole. One thing made out of all their little pieces of themselves.
Vander took Silco’s other hand as well just as the light streaming in shifted to beam into the space between them.
“Yeah…We’ll be okay.”