Archive of Our Own ^beta

The mines’ lift is a deathtrap. Vander knows at least five people had died going down to The Pit with it last month and while the supervisors kept telling people it's already been fixed, with the way its cord is audibly fraying even with just Vander alone in it, he fears he might be adding to the numbers soon.

Vander wasn't even planning to come to the lowest levels of the mines. Not only are the tunnels more unstable and have widths barely accommodating his shoulders, but the air here also runs hotly through his throat even with the masks the mine officers gave them. But Silco is working overtime again and honestly while Vander appreciates his friend’s efforts for their shared dream, he's getting worried. It's not safe to spend more time here than necessary. 

He already told Silco this but did the exasperating idiot listen?

No.

He just rolled his eyes and forgot his mask before going down again.

Vander shakes his head with the memory, one hand gripping Silco’s mask while the other affixes his own mask firmer against his own face.

The lift starts groaning open before dropping Vander almost half a meter to solid rock bottom. It only opens halfway through. He sighs as he forces the rest of it, bracing with his shoulder and squeezing past its frozen lips. It's almost as if he's being given a trial for what he knows coming up next.

Another miner, with his mask slung carelessly around his throat instead of his face, raises his eyebrows at Vander.

“You're here for Silco?” The man asks.

Vander’s own eyebrows rise as well, he doesn't know this man. He's pretty sure Silco doesn't know him as well. 

Still.

“Yes,” he nods as well, in case his voice doesn't carry through the mask.

For some reason, the man smirks. He just sneers as he brushes past Vander, entering the lift with less effort than Vander went out thanks to his leaner, if a bit sicker, frame. Just when Vander thinks the schmuck will not elaborate, the other man cocks his head towards the small shadowed corridor left of the main chamber from where they must drill the ore.

“He’s in the usual place across the Stinging Brook,” the man says as if that makes sense, “He changed rates though, almost doubled it from last week.”

The man grins wider, yellowing teeth crooked, “but he got better with his hands so it's worth it.”

“Silco’s always been good with his hands,” Vander says loyally, taken over by the weird sense that Silco’s somehow getting insulted. Were the supervisors making him draw the next dig site plan? If so, they shouldn't have made him draw here. They could have had Silco drafting perfect lines with his adept fingers in one of the cleaner rooms upstairs with better lighting.

“Well then he got better better , y’know?”

The other man doesn't even close the lift’s door, he probably couldn't with his twig-like arms, as he pulls the levers up. His snickering mousy face is the last thing Vander sees of him before the lift crawls up out of sight.

Vander shakes his head, flicking both the memory of the encounter and his sweaty hair from his forehead.

He steps into the corridor, guided by the small wax lanterns dotting the walls. Vander half expects it to end in a resting alcove the normal levels they work on above have, only to be surprised when it extends into a bigger limestone chamber cut diagonally by a two-meter-wide underground river.

The water doesn’t run so much as it sloughs off in a thick bubbling flow and whatever lies underneath the sickly blue-green fluid cannot be seen, meaning either the river ran deep or it had been integrated with enough chemicals from Piltover that it became opaque.

Four perfectly square stones had been placed from where Vander stood frozen up to the other side of the river, mined rock someone ingeniously placed for other people to use as stepping stones across the lightly steaming river.

Meanwhile on the other side of the said river, a single solitary torch wedged between two stalactites tightly wound together is bravely lighting up half the chamber. Various helmets, jackets, and pants are haphazardly hung upon the worn down stalagmites below it.

But Vander does not notice any of this.

Because on the other side of the river, a naked Silco is getting spit roasted by two masked miners. His sharp, angular features, usually set in a mask of cool indifference, are softened by something heated, something primal. In the flickering light of the lantern, glazed with the green reflection of the burbling river, he looks like something ethereal being defiled by mere mortals—

Vander blinks.

The hallucination does not fade away.

Across the murky waters, there is indeed a very real, very naked Silco getting fucked by—fuck is that Jefri shoving his cock down Silco’s throat? The fucking traitor, he said he needed the notes for his little sister’s medicine—

“Your mouth is so good,” Jefri is saying, clumsy fingers playing with the shorter hairs around the back of Silco’s head, “who taught you how to do all this?”

Silco bobs up from the disgusting cock in his mouth, lips almost kissing the uncut head as he rasps, “I had practice with something bigger than your tiny dick.”

His hands do not miss a beat pulling at Jefri’s cock even as his whole body shakes with the thrusts from behind—

Rough hands paw at Silco’s flat chest, tweaking the stiff red nipples before grasping the throat full of Jefri’s cock. Vander’s head throbs. This isn't—

This isn’t—

He recognizes the man rutting into Silco’s ass by the Queen Tianna’s tattoo on his shoulders. It’s Zikki. Zikki fucking told Vander last week that he's having troubles with his girl recently. Well, fucking Vander’s Silco isn't going to help with those problems, is it?

And yet Zikki persists in tugging bony hips towards his, one hand falling from Silco’s throat to draw dirty fingers down the shadowy plains marked with many teeth, circling a shallow navel amidst the flat stomach Vander has heard rumbling with hunger many a times before shifting down to Silco’s—

“Just fingers inside,” Silco instructs as if he was just telling the newbies where to place the dynamites to properly blow up an ore wall, “your cock’s already inside my ass, so just fingers in my—”

Fingers part wet lips and plunges into—

Into Silco’s—

There’s a ringing in Vander’s ears. 

Wait, no.  

It’s Zikki screaming his little twerp mouth off in his ears because Vander—

Vander has Zikki by the throat in his left hand, his right fist smashing into the man’s broken nose for a second, a third, and a fourth time.

When did that happen?

“Vander,” Jefri was saying, forearm futilely clasped around Vander’s throat to tug him away from Zikki, “Vander, buddy, we’re almost done. There’s no need for this— fuck !”

Vander’s elbow finds Jefri’s teeth with a satisfying crunch but the movement allows Zikki, the cheating dick, freedom to scramble away from his grasp. The split second of hesitation between following Zikki or scraping Jefri against the cave floor has Vander losing both of them. However, when he steps towards the asses trying to juggle limping away from him and dressing themselves simultaneously, a hand tugs on one of his wrists.

“Well,” a dry voice says behind him, “I’m glad I asked them to pay upfront.”

The expression on Silco’s face when Vander whirls around to face him is complicated.

He doesn’t move to cover himself immediately. Instead, he glares at Vander, his left eyebrow slightly twitching in that way Vander always sees when he’s annoyed. But his eyes are wide and bright with something almost like fear. As if he’s afraid of— of what, really? Being found out maybe? Vander doesn’t want to think Silco’s afraid of him .

“What the hell…” Vander’s words faltered, he wasn’t even sure what to ask at this point.

Silco’s lips are puffed up and trembling but it’s more from exertion than shame. Vander doesn’t want to remember what they were wrapped around mere moments before.

“Vander,” he replies, voice cutting through the murk of Vander’s thoughts like a blade. Vander’s eyes immediately track up from the bitemarks on that pale thin neck to his flushed cheeks. He remembers why he went down here in the first place.

“You forgot your mask,” Vander barks, tossing the mask to Silco. A few beats later of definitely not looking down between Silco’s thighs, he shrugs off his jacket and hands it over as well, “put them on.”

Silco’s eyes narrow at the order but takes both proffered items. The mask gets casually slung around Silco’s throat, deflecting Vander’s eyes from the red spots littered around those prominent collarbones. Meanwhile, the jacket almost immediately gets tied around Silco’s waist in a makeshift skirt. It covers the man’s reddening hips and ass but—

But Vander’s jacket, large as it was, still leaves a sliver of a gap at the front. And when Silco turns to pluck his slightly torn but mostly wearable shirt from one of the nearby stalagmites, Vander sees it again. A thin bush of wiry black hair covers most of it but the unsteady flame of the torch and its apparent wetness makes the slit glisten and draw Vander’s eyes towards it.

“I can’t wear my pants,” Silco says as if that was explanation enough, “one of the men earlier tore it open because I doubled my fees.”

Vander’s gaze flicks up Silco’s eyes and it may be the first time since he stepped into this cave that their sights truly meet. Silco’s face falls, lashes almost fanning across his cheeks as he lowers his eyes.

“I can explain,” Silco whispers, his voice steady despite the circumstance.

“Explain?” Vander growls, stepping closer until he’s towering over Silco. “You’re down here— doing this —in these conditions ? Are you out of your bloody mind?”

“Do you think I had a choice?” Silco snaps back, stepping forward and up his toes until his nose almost grazes Vander’s own. “You think those supervisors pay us enough to survive, let alone save for a future? For our future?” His voice cracks on the last words, and he looks away, pearly teeth biting his lower lip.

Vander swallows hard, the anger in his chest warring with something deeper, something softer. He doesn’t know whether to yell at Silco or pull him into an embrace. His friend—no, his partner —had been pushing himself to the brink for their shared dream. And yet… this ?

“You could have told me,” Vander murmurs, his tone gentler now though he hasn’t stepped back yet. “We’d have figured something out.”

Silco laughs bitterly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Vander has half a thought to run his own fingers after Silco’s, a part of him grousing to erase whatever touch Jefri or whoever else made, “Figured what out, Vander? Another extra shift in these godforsaken mines? Watching you break your back while I draw maps no one looks at?”

“This,” he gestures to himself, “this gets results.”

The words make Vander’s blood boil, but not at Silco—rather at the world that forced him into this corner. Without thinking, he reaches out, grabbing Silco by the shoulders. “Not like this,” he says, voice rough with emotion he can’t place. “Not ever again.”

Silco looks up at him, startled by the intensity in Vander’s voice. For a moment, they just stand there, the quiet burble of the underground river the only sound between them. Then Silco’s lips curl into a sardonic smile, though his eyes betray something softer. “You’re awfully protective for someone who’s been staring this whole time.”

Vander blinks, his cheeks flushing under the grime on his face. “That’s not—! I wasn’t—!”

But Silco laughs, the tension between them breaking for a moment. “Relax, you oaf. I’m not mad. It’s… flattering, I suppose.” He rests his forehead on Vander’s shoulder, his next words felt rather than heard, “Just don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Vander exhales, shaking his head as his hand automatically cradles the back of Silco’s head. “Silco, you’re impossible.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Silco quips, voice muffled against Vander’s shirt.

“Where else will I be but be here,” Vander says, something soft fluttering hopefully in his throat, “with you?”

Silco’s entire body freezes before shaking uncontrollably. Vander’s heart drops, thinking the other man is laughing, only to freeze himself when Silco looks up at him with wet eyes and slightly opened mouth.

“Will you kiss me?” Silco whispers.

There are multitude reasons why Vander should say no to that, even more reasons to actually not do it. Their friendship, for one, may be tainted with something like a decision made with emotions rather than rationality. Two, it’s not safe to even take his mask off here, how Silco manages to breathe the mine fumes as if it were topside air Vander can’t begin to fathom. And three—

What Vander does of course is take his mask off and say the words ‘of course’ against Silco’s lips.

His nose stings with the polluted atmosphere but Silco’s mouth offers air he could breathe so his tongue delves into it with vigor he didn’t know he could have at the end of such an exhausting day. Vander draws Silco further into his embrace, his free arm curling around his waist and tightening until their chests press together, almost bending Silco backwards as he chases his tongue. Vander’s teeth catch Silco’s lips, nibbling until it almost bursts. He growls when Silco shakes him loose, their spit and the blood on Vander’s tongue connecting them in a thin red string before that too breaks loose.

“I knew it,” Silco laughs, springing up and wrapping his legs around Vander’s hips just as Vander catches his ass with a single hand. Somehow, he can feel Silco’s heat even through the jacket. Vander's blood sprints down his body in answer.

Silco is still snickering even as Vander tugs him closer, practically plastering their chests together so he can run his tongue along the shell of Silco’s ear, “you kiss like a hungry puppy.”

“And you know this how,” Vander groans against his neck as walks them towards the nearest cave wall until Silco’s back meets solid rock. He pushes Silco’s shirt up with his free hand and Silco lets him, shimmying out of the thin fabric as easily as he puts it on. Vander growls, diving into the crook of Silco’s neck and shoulder. Silco still smells like the soap they shared this morning and Vander—

Vander needs to put his mark on Silco, put them over the blots of filth the others dared to place on him.

He licks Silco’s small apple, the tip of his tongue swirling around the protrusion a few times before sucking the bobbing flesh into his mouth. Silco’s hands run down Vander’s arms, squeezing his biceps in time with Vander’s sucks. He’s saying something about being a chew toy which Vander graciously ignores in favor of skimming his teeth across the stretch of skin hiding a thick river of burbling blood.

“Van—!” Silco cries, whole body spasming between the cave wall and Vander’s torso. 

“Yes?” Vander smiles, looking straight up those bright green eyes as he bites down Silco’s pulse. The skin breaks beneath the force of his canine and droplets of Silco’s blood fall on Vander’s tongue. 

“Gods, Vander,” Silco moans, tellingly not pushing him away, “you're a beast .”

Vander continues sucking and nuzzling the bite, the fingers of the hand not fondly cupping Silco’s ass slowly working down until it slips under Vander’s jacket, tapping the winking arsehole with his index finger before continuing its journey down to a twitching slit—

The wetness his fingers meet isn't only the familiar slide of a well-oiled pussy. Vander curls his index finger to swipe at the quivering inseam and scoops out something too thick to be just lubrication or Silco’s natural fluids. 

Something inside Vander snarls.

“You let them do it raw ?” 

The shiver that runs through Silco’s body has his lips fluttering around Vander’s fingers, his thighs straining in the grip it has of his hips.

“Just a few,” Silco says, eyes meeting Vander’s as if daring him to say something, “only the ones that could afford it.”

“Who.”

Vander’s throat is closing up, his fingers curling into Silco’s hair until his head is drawn back, long pale throat bobbing wildly under Vander’s teeth.

“Who dared .” He repeats, staring into those heavily lidded green eyes. Vander thinks of the rat-faced man at the elevator, thinks how sated he seemed with his lope and grin, oh how Vander wants to crumple his face—

“Why?” Silco asks, following Vander’s grip until he’s arched into an impossible arc. The pose has his tiny tits shivering below Vander’s chin, hips pressing forward until Vander’s fingers slide out of his cunt and he can only be felt as a distinct warm wetness soaking through the fabric across Vander’s stomach.   “Why are you going to punch their dicks like you did with Zikki?”

“I didn't punch—” Vander starts before a scene flashed behind his eyelids—

His knuckles biting into Zikki’s hip, effectively separating the moron from Silco, and then that glistening member is getting cupped by those even more glistening fingers which have respectively been inside Silco’s ass and Silco’s—

He punched those fingers, the dick was just collateral damage.

Vander bites into a wildly stiff nipple to stop himself from uttering weak excuses.

An amused huff ruffles Vander’s hair, “I thought so.”

The soft mound pushed against his stomach skates down his navel to the rim of his pants where his cock has been vainly seeking for freedom.

Fingers, as long and pale as cave spiders, slide down Vander’s arms to deftly pick at the pants’ buttons. Vander tears himself away from the teat he’s been suckling into redness, watching avidly as those fingers pull out his member. The engorged head looks so indecent in the circle of Silco’s palm and for a moment Vander feels as if he's watching a movie he doesn't know but would like to see more of. 

It felt like a dream, his body hazily complying with Silco’s tugs and pushes. 

He's staring at Silco’s pus —

Somehow Silco has Vander lying on his back as he peppers soft kisses on the skin around the base of Vander’s cock, his slit—his cunt, his pussy— rubbing enthusiastically against Vander’s stubbled chin.

Vander watches Silco for a moment in awe, eyes tracing along the plain of his stomach, the slight swells of his breasts and its nipples elongated by Vander’ own mouth, his throat full of Vander’s cock. The lips kissing the tip of his cock is almost as red as the lips twitching against Vander’s left cheek, but not as wet, not as sweet.

Tentatively, Vander licks along the slit, eliciting a full body tremor from the man above him. Silco doesn't tell him to stop. He pushes his tongue flat against the mound, the tip of it teasing the corner of the licking pussy. Silco gags on his cock before starting to hump Vander's face.

Vander doesn't normally eat out the women he's been with, not because he doesn't want to but because most of them always seem to want to get over it. But with Silco, he spends time trying. And Silco, for some reason eagerly responds, gushing across Vander’s face in wet pulses. Vander grabs his hips to stop him from grinding his flesh into Vander’s teeth, only teasing the swollen nub with a little nip with his front teeth until Silco’s head snaps up from his cock and he screams.

Warmth spreads across Vander’s cheeks and into his mouth in a slick flood. Silco drops limp onto his stomach, weakly nuzzling Vander’s balls as he lets Vander rearrange his legs so that his knees are comfortably propped on Vander’s chest instead of the ground beside his ears.

Vander—well, there's no other word for it but— Vander slurps the release down, relishing the way the wet flesh spasms against his tongue.

He inserts a finger, eased in by Silco’s own fluids, as Silco mewls against Vander’s still hard cock. His tired tongue laps at the head weeping precum as long tapered fingers languidly moved up and down the length. He really looks like a paid whore from this angle, Vander hardens conscientiously against those puffed up lips broken by his own teeth mere moments ago.

Vander drags the callused fingertip of his middle finger across the tender slit, his index waggling inside Silco’s warmth.

The move doesn’t disappoint, Vander is blessed with another flood of Silco’s release. Unbidden, Vander inserts half of his middle finger, curling in tandem with the one already inside Silco.

“You're so big,” Silco mewls, almost as if he's talking with Vander’s cock with the way his eyes are trained on it. His lips mouth the words against the throbbing base, the tip of his nose nudging the vein running across the sensitive length, “Van— Vander, will you fuck me?”

There must be so many reasons to say no, to not actually do it but none of them enters Vander’s mind at that moment. All he could feel is the hard lump in his throat and the harder throb of his cock Silco is gently blowing on. So of course, Vander say—

“Fuck yes,” he groans as rearranges them, sitting up and untangling the mess of Silco’s limbs, “let me feel you, baby.”

“Hm,” Silco says, an eyebrow lifting as he settles onto Vander’s lap, “that sounds like something you say to a whore. Have experienced much with whores, Vander?”

“I’m not averse to them,” The lump in Vander's throat breaks as he laughs, a throaty sound scraping against his flesh. Silco’s pout looks inherently out of place at this moment, so Vander surges up to kiss it away, tucking a loose strand of hair as he does so, “you are my favourite though.”

“You’ll always be,” he murmurs against a reddening ear, taking into his hand Silco’s which was fisted around his cock. 

Together, they direct the member into Silco’s—

Into Silco’s cunt—

Vander rubs the tip against those watery lips, fascinated at the way it reflects the green of their surroundings, before allowing Silco to plunge it inside him in one swift thrust. 

The warmth that tightly encompasses him has Vamder throwing his head back, almost bucking Silco off him if for his fast reflexes.

“I better be the only,” Silco grits out, knees bracketing wide hips with his palms flat on Vander’s thighs as he undulates above, “the only whore you're seeing.”

Vander bites into those snarking lips, smiling at the little pleasured hiss Silco reluctantly gives when a lucky thrust hits something inside him.

“Let's see,” he teases just to see the enraged flush on Silco’s cheeks. He always looks so comely when overcome with spiteful passion. Biting into an even more flushed neck, Vander groans against the sweating skin, “if you show me my money’s worth.”

Claws rake down Vander’s chest, a sharper than the rest nail catching on his nipple, “you haven't paid at all, you stupid beast.”

Vander licks a long stripe up Silco’s neck, ending it with a bite on the slippery skin behind that deliciously blushing ear. He sucks at the flesh, relishing at the little giggle that escapes out of Silco. 

Gods , he's ticklish. Vander just discovered a spot that literally tickles Silco pink. He thinks it's alright to die now, thank you very much, lady Janna.

He does it again. Silco keens into the touch, forgetting to move as his hands wander helplessly around the breath of Vander’s shoulder. 

“Isn't that payment enough,” Vander chuckles against the skin, taking hold of Silco’s hips. He tells himself he's trying to get his bearings, steady himself with the motion so to speak. But his hands, callused and almost as dirty as the other men’s, pulls and tugs so demandingly on those bony hips. In the end, he is really a beast gone feral with jealousy and possessiveness.

Vander doesn't know how to stop.

He doesn't think he wants to.

“No,” Silco groans, throwing his head back as he rides Vander’s cock with abandon. Both of them are mindless of the wet slick of flesh against flesh and heavy panting that accompany their rutting, uncaring if the noise attracts unwanted attention. The world narrows down to just the two of them and that place where they meet.

“Not enough,” Silco continues, little ah, ah, ah, punctuating the way he gyrates down Vander’s length, “fuck me harder . Faster—”

He squeezes his hands between them, his fingers managing to reach and trace the corners where Vander’s cock is plunging inside him. Some of them slip alongside his cock. But Vander doesn't want that, so he takes both of those thin wrists in a single paw before bringing them back up. He kisses the tips of those elegant fingers individually not quite in apology, tongue even licking to taste the two of them together.

“You're disgusting,” Silco moans, hips stuttering in their bounces, “do it again.”

Vander obeys, nibbling on the soft knuckles slick with their combined juices this time.

The heated walls around his cock, tightens once, twice, then thrice before a wave of wet warmth surrounds Vander.

It takes Vander a few heartbeats after that to realize he's come, that Silco’s come, that together they—

“Fuck,” Silco breathes, his whole body dropping on Vander's lap like a doll whose strings are cut.

“Fuck,” Vander agrees, wiping stray hairs from Silco’s sweaty brow before kissing his temple with closed lips, “that was definitely worth double the price.”

Weak fists thump on Vander’s chest without any real effort to hurt. Silco’s forehead once again meets the crook of Vander’s neck and shoulders. His breath tickles the little hairs there and…

Vander can feel himself hardening again.

“Fuck you,” Silco laughs, and laughs, and laughs.