Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sitting on uncomfortable bleachers on a late summer afternoon, watching a sport he didn’t understand and couldn’t care less about, and wasting a Friday he could have spent writing a paper for his literature seminar was not Silco’s idea of a good time. Unfortunately, he was currently doing all of those things, because a violet headed girl who was as stubborn as a mule set her sights on him during the first semester of his freshman year and he’d been unable to shake her since. Silco liked Felicia despite her persistent habit to ignore his boundaries. So when she’d asked him to please, please, pretty please come to the rugby match this afternoon he’d sighed and rolled his eyes and agreed. It was the easier option than trying to say no. 

He knew the reason she wanted to go to the game was because of one of the players whom she’d been flirting with for the better part of a year, and not because she had any particular interest in the sport. One might expect that Felicia would already have enough emotional support to flirt with said rugby player considering she was friends with some of the team already, but apparently she still needed Silco to be there for some reason he hadn’t figured out yet.

The one concession Silco had made was bringing a paperback in his pocket which he read during the less interesting parts of the game, which was to say most of it. 

“This is so exciting! Ugh, Vander is playing so well. Which makes sense—the rugby preseason is unreasonably long.” The sentiment felt more like something Felicia had been told rather than an idea she’d come to on her own, and Silco hummed in response, only half listening. Felicia elbowed Silco to get his attention, pointing a finger towards one of the bigger players, following along as he thundered down the field. Silco lifted his eyes from the page he was reading with obvious disinterest. 

He had decided early on in their friendship—or prolonged kidnapping, if Felicia was being particularly annoying—that he didn’t care if she saw him being “a little bitchy”. At first the behaviour had been been an effort to get her to leave him alone, but she’d stood fast in her determination to befriend him. Most of the time, Silco appreciated that. He wouldn’t exactly consider himself a people person, although he did alright.

But not right now, when he could be writing a paper in his nice, cozy dorm room or tucked away in his favourite corner of the library.

“Yes, he’s doing very well,” Silco said, turning his attention back to his book. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which one was Vander even with the help of Felicia’s finger to point him out. Felicia talked plenty about her other friends–of which she had no shortage–but Vander was someone of frequent mention. He’d heard about how friendly he was, always willing to hear her talk about Connol, or how nice he was, saving a puppy from a tree that was on fire. The last bit might have been an exaggeration, but Silco couldn’t be sure. 

“You’re not even watching!” she complained, and he could feel her eyes on him as he read.

Silco shrugged. “I’m only here because you wanted me to go to the party after the game and your refusal to retrieve me for said party after the fact. My enthusiasm is being paid for with cheap booze, and would you believe it,” he spread his hands towards the field, the pages of his book rustling in the light breeze, “there is no booze here.” The look he received was unimpressed at best but more likely genuinely irritated, so he closed his book with a sigh and tucked it back into his pocket, putting his hands up in surrender.

Felicia was more than happy to narrate the game to Silco now that he was paying proper attention, explaining why Vander passed the ball back to another one of the big guys—Benzo, apparently—before he was tackled instead of just sending it up the field. Silco winced with the crowd as Vander went down. He was back up in a moment and in the meantime the game continued on around him. That was the one thing Silco could appreciate about the game—it didn’t have many stops and starts. Even the times when the ball went out of bounds, it was a quickly returned to play and the game kept moving. According to Felicia, the Sentinels were sloppy. Even Silco could tell that there were a few times the Sentinels failed to block a pass or close a hole in their defensive line. Again, this wasn’t very surprising; this was an exhibition match, after all, and Piltover had a tendency to underestimate Zaun U in more than just sports.

He cheered with the crowd when Sevika crossed the end line, touching the ball to the ground. “That’s called a try,” Felicia explained, and Silco watched the score board light up with the first few points for Zaun U. The crowd when quiet as Sevika stepped up to make a free kick—“A conversion,” Felicia called it. The ball sailed wide, missing goal posts, and a disappointed murmur rippled through the stands. 

Silco grimaced as Sevika joined the rest of the team. While he didn’t know the other players from Adam, Silco was familiar with Sevika. They had a poli sci seminar together, and he liked her well enough. She wasn’t chatty, but her mordant humour and direct manner of speaking appealed to Silco, and it turned out they had similar taste in music. You didn’t just stumble into other Maestro fans often. 

He didn’t realize that she was on the rugby team until he’d seen her on the field, but now that he’d seen it, Sevika and rugby weirdly fit. But unlike some—most, really—of the jocks Silco knew, she didn’t make playing the sport her entire personality. His data pool might be limited, considering he did his best to avoid team sports as a rule, but whenever he saw Connol, he seemed to be talking about practice, or a game, or something hilarious his teammates had said. If he hadn’t been looking at Sevika with his own eyes, he might never have known she played at all.

As the game continued, Silco found he was actually enjoying himself, Felicia’s ongoing commentary helping him better understand what was happening on the field. To his own surprise, by the mid-point of the game, Silco was properly invested in the outcome, his paperback forgotten in his pocket, caught up in the energy of the crowd around him and Felicia beside him.

+ + +

After months of pre-season work, weeks of practice with this year's team, hundreds of hours spent preparing, Vander panted as he charged down the pitch, eyes scanning the field ahead of him for an opening that didn't exist. He heard the crowd, a dull roar at the back of his awareness, and felt his muscles surge. A voice to his right called out and with the confidence that only came from hours of practice and trust, Vander sent the ball in his hand sailing backwards towards Benzo without looking, just as arms wrapped around his knees and another heavy body tackled him to the ground. He covered his head with his arms as he fell to protect himself from the chaos of feet around him before he was up again in a moment, cleats kicking up earth as he pushed forward.

Vander kept his eyes focused on the pitch, running as hard as he could when he had the ball, and working hard with their defensive line to close any openings that would allow the Sentinels to advance. It was a fast paced game with frequent tackles, vicious line outs, and ferocious defensive plays from either side.

The Sentinels were both Zaun U’s academic and athletic rivals, and games between the two schools were always tense and well attended. It may have only been an exhibition game, but neither team seemed to care. Better to open strong, especially against your main opposition. 

Before he knew it, the game was over. So much time spent preparing for this moment only for it to be over in a flash. The Zaun University Trenchers came out on top by a mere two point lead over the Piltover Academy Sentinels. Vander joined his teammates on the sidelines in celebration, clapping shoulders and roughhousing. By the time the crowd started to thin and his teammates retired to the locker room, Vander’s heart was just starting to ramp down, the adrenaline of a well played match thrumming through his veins.

Stretching his arms over his head, Vander worked out the aches in his shoulders. Even with good technique, repeated hard contact with the ground took a toll on the body, along with a few misplaced cleats during rucks. He’d be bruised tomorrow. Pushing through the remaining spectators he could see Felicia heading towards him, her violet hair easy to track, a stark contrast to the dark blue sweater she wore, the Zaun University crest emblazoned across the chest. Vander smiled and waved before lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

As Felicia closed the distance between them, Vander realized that she wasn’t alone. Behind her was a tall, thin man with a narrow, hooked nose and long hair hanging loose around his shoulders that Vander vaguely recognized. He wore a short-cut leather jacket over a garnet-coloured button down which made him stand out against most everyone else who attended the game dressed in school colours or wore something with the school’s emblem on it. Shit. What was his name? Vander couldn't remember. He’d only seen him in passing, walking with Felicia between classes while Vander was going the opposite direction across campus. There hadn’t been much time to stop. Even still, she’d mentioned him, but Vander could not think of his name. The best he could come up with in the few moments he had left before they arrived in front of him was that the other man’s name started with an “S”. 

“Great game, V!” Felicia said, throwing her arms around him. Fortunately, the pitch was dry for the game, so she didn’t have to worry about being covered in mud. Vander hugged her back, lifting her off the ground easily, but his eyes hung on the other man hovering behind her. S. His name was S-something. Sanders, Simeon, no. 

“Thanks,” he said, tearing his eyes away to look at his friend. Her grey eyes were twinkling in a way that meant trouble for him, but that was basically always at this point.

“Are you going to the clubhouse from here?” 

Vander nodded, leaning down to grab a towel from his kit and wiping the remaining sweat dripping from his face. “Yeah. Are you going to come, too?” He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Connol will be there,” he said in a low voice, nudging her with his elbow.

“Oh, she knows,” S-something smirked. Felicia’s face turned pink.

Connol was the team scrum half, and he and Felicia had been dancing around each other for months. As much as Vander liked to think that Felicia came to games and practices to support him, he knew better. Maybe that had been her initial reason for coming, but it hadn’t been long before her motivation was someone else. Not that Vander minded. Connol was a great guy, and Vander only wanted the best for Felicia. He’d introduced them without any ulterior motives the first time she’d come to the clubhouse after a game last year, but for whatever reason, despite their obvious chemistry and interest, neither of them were willing to make the first move. 

At the very least it offered Vander an opportunity to tease Felicia about something, especially given her special talent of finding endless things to tease Vander about.

“Maybe tonight will be the night you two finally do something about it,” S-Something said. He raised his hands to defend himself against her half hearted punch to his shoulder, his swooping bangs covering what could be a nice smile.

“Listen, I can’t deal with that from both of you,” Felicia huffed. 

Vander caught S-something’s eyes over Felicia’s shoulder.

“So you’re bringing—,” Vander started, gesturing vaguely in S-something’s direction and hoping that the name would magically tumble from his mouth. When that didn’t happen, he turned to the other man, resigned to his fate at this point, “Sorry, man, I forgot your name.”

The other man's mouth twitched into an unimpressed frown and he crossed his arms over his narrow chest. All previous goodwill disappeared from his face. “Silco,” he said tightly. 

“Right. Is Silco coming, too?” That question only seemed to upset Silco more.

Felicia rolled her eyes. “He’s standing right there , V. Why don't you just ask him ?”

Vander flushed with embarrassment. “Are you coming, too?” Vander repeated, this time to Silco, who offered an indifferent shrug in response that Vander didn’t know what to do with. “Right. Well, I'm gonna hit the showers but I'll see you at the clubhouse in a bit.”

“See you there!” Felicia called as he jogged off.

He could feel eyes on his back, but he didn’t look back to check to see whose.

— — —

Vander took his time in the shower, letting the hot spray relax his tired muscles until he’d used the last of the hot water. It was weird being in the locker room by himself, the creaking hinges of his locker sounding abnormally loud as he opened it to grab his clothes from inside. The clang of it closing echoed aggressively without the overlapping sounds of chattering voices and rushing water to diffuse it. He stuffed his dirty uniform and towel in the laundry bin by the door and made his way to the clubhouse.

The rest of the team was already there when he finally arrived. He could hear the music thumping through the windows as he got closer. Inside, Vander scanned the room for Felicia briefly, giving up when her violet hair didn’t immediately catch his eye. She was around, and she could handle herself just fine. 

The clubhouse was really just a converted out building, but the rugby teams had made it a decent enough spot over the years. There were pictures of past teams on the walls and the ceiling was decorated with pennant flags of their various victories. It was a snug fit, between the team and their various guests, but that never stopped people from attending the parties held there.  

Benzo shouted for him to come over, have a drink, and Vander couldn’t think of a single reason to refuse the invitation.

“What’ll it be, Vander?” Sevika asked, her joint moving with her lips as she spoke. She gestured to the table in front of her, a folding six foot table with a plastic tablecloth cluttered with various bottles of hard liquor and mixers. Vander could also make out the top of a cooler under the far end of the table. If she was acting as the bartender that evening, that meant there was a good chance his options were shots or beer. 

“Beer’s fine.” He wasn’t quite in the mood to get truly fucked up. She made quick work of opening his bottle against the table, ignoring the perfectly good bottle opener that a previous team had installed on the wall behind her. “Have you seen Felicia?”

Sevika shook her head. “No. She left her twink shadow, Silco, over there a while ago, though.” She waved a lazy hand towards the far wall, and sure enough, Silco was standing there, looking bored.

“I’m not sure he’d like you calling him that,” Vander said, half serious. 

Sevika glanced over towards Silco before snorting. “Trust me, he likes it more than someone talking about him like he’s not standing right there .” Vander grimaced as he accepted the beer. He’d made a bit of an ass of himself on the field earlier—but what was he supposed to do? Lie ? He had no doubt that Felicia would mention it to Silco anyway; she was so hard to ruffle, thanks to a carefree spirit, that sometimes she didn’t think before she spoke.

He took a considering sip of his beer—cheap, weak, but satisfying after a hard match—and watched Silco for a second. Honestly, Vander didn't know what Felicia liked about Silco now that he’d seen the man in person. Sure, she’d told Vander about her other friend, seemingly always prepared with another story about something funny he’d said. Vander was used to hearing about the book recommendations that he gave her, or some bit of commentary he’d made about a show they watched together. But he couldn’t reconcile what she told him with the man standing awkwardly in the corner of the clubhouse. He stuck out from the other rugby players and their respective social circle, nursing a beer and looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else. Felicia didn’t seem too keen on babysitting him either, not that she’d use that word. They were adults, as she was frequently reminding him, and didn’t need to be mothered. Vander wasn’t trying to take on the responsibility, but he could at least try to make up for a shitty first impression. Besides, Silco was just standing there . Why not just leave if the party was so boring?

“Having a good time?” Vander asked as he approached, trying to gauge Silco’s expression and failing. His eyes were sharp as he glanced at Vander from beneath a curtain of dark hair, assessing him. 

“I’m having a time,” Silco replied blandly. “Something to scratch off my university experience bucket list, if nothing else.” Vander bristled at the arrogance in Silco’s voice, the sarcastic little smirk tugging at one side of his face. 

“Right, well. Glad to hear it.” They stood together awkwardly for a moment, Vander making quick work of his beer while Silco didn’t so much as take a sip. “Not a fan of beer?” he asked, tilting his now empty bottle towards Silco’s still full drink. He could see chipped black nail polish on a couple of Silco’s visible fingers around the neck of the bottle. 

“It’s fine,” Silco answered dismissively, turning his head to look at something on the opposite side of the room. Vander frowned. Was this guy always such a dick? They had other options. Sure, Sevika usually doled out shots and beer only, but Vander knew he could make something simple enough with what they had.

“I can grab you something different if you want—”

“I said it’s fine,” Silco repeated, more firmly this time. He rolled his eyes back in Vander’s direction and took a small sip from the bottle as though proving his point, and Vander relented. He’d started this conversation in an effort to make Silco feel included, but it was evident he wasn’t interested. Still, Vander felt caught. He didn’t want to be rude and just walk away—though at this point he wasn’t sure that Silco would care if he did. Thankfully, one of his teammates called his name, beckoning him over to a game of beer pong, and he was saved. He made a swift turn and headed over, resolutely not turning his head to check Silco’s reaction.

Who the fuck was this guy? If Vander didn’t know what Felicia liked about Silco before, he sure as hell didn’t know now that he’d actually spoke to him. He seemed like the snobby, asocial academic type, with his leather jacket and too-cool-for-you attitude. He seemed so at odds with Felicia, who was a social butterfly, fitting into any setting and easily making friends with just about anyone she met. And sure, maybe if Vander spent more than five seconds talking to the man he might find out, but Silco clearly wasn’t interested in getting to know Vander, either. Which was fine with him. He wasn't about to expend energy on someone who wasn't willing to return the effort.

It was easy to settle into the game, facing off in a championship style tournament against Benzo. He could feel various sets of eyes on him, cheering him on. The energy in the room made him feel like he was on the pitch again, laughing and high-fiving with one of the other party-goers as Benzo missed his final shot. As the crowd cheered when Benzo picked up the cup and drained it, Vander looked through the swarm of his friends, not seeking anyone in particular, only to find Silco watching him—no, not him. The crowd. Looking for Felicia, probably. Probably wondering when she was going to leave (where had she disappeared to, anyway?) It was a pity he had such a sour attitude; he wasn’t a bad looking guy. Vander might even go so far as to say he was pretty. His sharp features made him easy to spot in the crowd, and Vander had to imagine that he might look good when he smiled.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring in that direction, pondering, but apparently it was a little too long. When he came back to the present, Silco was looking at him, unmistakably looking at Vander, and having those critical eyes’ sudden, focused attention had Vander’s breath catching in his throat. He looked away abruptly, eyes finding anywhere else to land, all while fighting the inexplicable urge to look back. 

Instead, he forced himself to pay attention to whatever Benzo was talking about, to accept another beer from Sevika. When he eventually did cast a wandering glance back in that direction, Silco was gone. Looking over the room, Vander didn’t see the other man anywhere among the crowd, and found himself feeling oddly disappointed. 

— — —

Over the following weeks, Vander fell into the new semester’s routine. Sophomore year felt good. He was familiar with the campus, already knew which coffee spots he preferred along his route, and which ones were worth going out of his way a little. He didn’t have to use the shitty freshman dorm gym anymore, either. That alone made a huge difference from freshman year, and being in the last semester of prerequisite classes meant that he had more space in his schedule for classes he actually wanted to take. 

Between classes and training, Vander managed to stay busy enough to forget the whole awkward night with Silco at the clubhouse. Well, he would have, except that now that they’d had a—brief, uncomfortable—conversation, Vander kept seeing Silco everywhere. He seemed to always catch the other man’s eye every time, too, which made Vander’s stomach flip in a way he did not want to think about. The only exception being a sociology lecture they had together. It was a big class, and Vander wasn’t sure that Silco even knew they shared it. 

Despite the frequency with which their paths seemed to cross, neither of them made any effort to so much as say hello or offer a nod or wave of acknowledgment. Nothing had changed, really, except that Vander suddenly had this new awareness . Vander did his best to ignore it, to focus on school, on practice, and on games. It should be easy, given how full his schedule was, and yet... 

At least it seemed that either Felicia or Connol had finally gotten tired of simple flirtation, given how they were suddenly always disappearing together after games or practices. Vander had been reaching the end of his patience, listening to them both of them moon over the other, so he was ultimately glad that they’d both gotten their shit together. But Felicia attended all of the social gatherings at the clubhouse, which made sense, and she brought Silco along after games, which made less sense. 

It shouldn’t matter, but Vander couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for Silco, standing alone at the clubhouse, clearly only there because Felicia had dragged him along to a game again, and hating every minute of it. So, on the days when Silco was present, Vander took it upon himself to try and keep him company. 

He didn’t know why he bothered, or why he thought each time would go differently than the last. Vander tried talking about school, asking about Silco, his major, about his thoughts on the match, the weather, whatever. Silco was never receptive to his attempts to strike up a conversation. It was like pulling teeth every time, and Vander usually gave up after only a few minutes of stilted, one-word answers. 

Yet every time Silco appeared, Vander felt drawn to him, wanting to find a way to get past that cool veneer Silco wore and see what was underneath, see what was so great, why Felicia liked him so much. The time Vander spent thinking about those brief snatches of conversation after the fact consumed more time and energy than he was willing to examine.

He just hated seeing someone—anyone!—miserable at a party, that’s all. It made sense, given that he’d been raised in his parent’s tavern. Usually, he was pretty good at making sure people had a good time, at playing host, and he liked it. It was why he liked it when he was on drink duty. 

The downside about drink duty was that it required Vander to be at the clubhouse first, meaning after their latest game against the Bilgewater Pirates (which had been a crushing loss) he hadn’t had an opportunity to say hi to Felicia before running to take the fastest shower of his life, and then booking it to the clubhouse, his hair still dripping.

The nice thing about being on drink duty, however, was that Vander had more than a passing knowledge of how to mix drinks. He wasn’t an expert by any means, but he’d been making simple cocktails since he was about twelve, so it meant that there was more than just beer or straight hard alcohol to choose from. He knew it was something his teammates appreciated, even though most of them still just opted for beer, but he also thought it might be an opportunity to give Silco some other options if he was there.

“Looks like a proper setup again, Vander, well done,” Benzo said, scoping out his options. His mixing and garnish options were limited—there was no kitchen at the clubhouse—so any extras Vander needed he had to prep himself and bring with him. He had a container full of lemons, limes, and oranges that he’d prepared the night before in the dorm’s kitchen and a bottle of simple syrup that he’d made himself. “I’ll get a beer with lime.” Vander rolled his eyes and opened a bottle, making a show of adding a lime wedge with a flourish. Benzo took it with a laugh and Vander turned his attention to the next person in line.

“Hey, man, how’s it—“ He stopped short when he realized that it was Silco standing in front of him, not another teammate. 

They both looked surprised to see each other, Vander because he was never sure when to expect Silco to be around, and Silco because thus far Vander had always been milling about with the others, probably. Vander recovered first, offering Silco a wide smile. Silco simply frowned, crossing his arms in front of himself like a shield. He seemed oddly dressed down in an oversized sweatshirt, given everything Vander had seen him in before. He usually opted for a jacket, like the leather one he’d been wearing at the exhibition game. Actually, Vander wasn’t sure if he could remember ever seeing Silco without it. Silco just didn’t seem like the “big sweatshirt with a collar so overstretched that it threatened to expose his shoulder” kind of guy. He had a nice neck. 

Vander’s smile slipped when he noticed there was a small mark at the base of Silco's throat that could only be a hickey. He'd given enough of them to know what they looked like at a glance. His eyes flew up to Silco’s face where the other man was wearing a look that was unreasonably smug, as though he knew that Vander had seen it. 

Vander swallowed hard and tried to ignore the small red mark still visible if he just lowered his eyes a bit. Clearing his throat, he looked resolutely at Silco’s face. “What can I get you?” he said quickly. “I can make most drinks if you want something other than just beer.”

Silco raised an eyebrow. Damn if he didn't look hot—or haughty, more like. “Surprise me,” he said with a small shrug, as if he couldn’t be bothered. But his lips twitched in the barest hint of a smirk. A challenge. 

Vander grimaced. This could either go well or very badly and he didn’t care for the odds against him. It shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but…He wanted to make something that Silco would enjoy, despite the fact that he didn’t know enough about him to know what to choose. At the very least if Silco didn’t like it, that would help Vander narrow things down a bit for next time. Even bad feedback would tell him something about the other student, however superficial. He let his hands hover over the bottles, glancing at Silco under his lashes, hoping to see if Silco’s face changed in response to anything in particular. His face remained annoyingly stoic, only his raised brow and slightly pursed lips indicating judgment of how long Vander was taking, so after a few seconds Vander just picked something. 

Filling a cup with ice, he picked up a bottle of gin and tipped a generous pour into the cup before squeezing some fresh lime juice in after it. He topped the whole thing with club soda. Giving the drink a quick stir, he garnished the plastic cup with a lime wedge and handed it across to Silco. It was a simple cocktail, and the gin they had on hand was hardly top shelf. The other man took it without tasting it first, tossing a careless, “thanks” in Vander’s general direction as he moved out of the way for the person waiting impatiently behind him.

Vander tried not to watch as Silco moved to the same back corner of the room that he’d seemingly claimed for himself. Was it so hard to try it, maybe give some feedback? Vander couldn’t think of a single other person who wouldn’t want to drink something they actually liked . Unfortunately, someone new immediately took Silco’s place in line and Vander was left to wonder just how far he’d missed the mark.

— — —

Vander wasn’t sure how much time had passed, just that it had been long enough for him to serve a couple dozen drinks, when he caught sight of Silco disappearing through the door outside, no drink in sight. He grabbed a passing teammate without seeing who it was. “Hey, cover for me a sec.” He followed Silco’s path outside before whoever he’d grabbed had a chance to respond.

The night had chilled considerably since the game ended, while the number of bodies crammed into the clubhouse kept it from feeling anything but cold. Vander’s hair was just damp enough to make him shiver. 

There weren’t a lot of options for which direction Silco had headed, so Vander turned to the left, shoving his hands into his pockets. He found him around the side of the building, a cigarette held between his lips, hand cupped around it as he worked to strike the flint of his lighter. The lighting wasn’t great out here, throwing shadows across Silco’s features, making him seem all the more angular. Vander watched the way his cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, tilting his head back to blow the smoke into the air. The low light caught his exposed shoulder, the line of his neck, and Vander swallowed.

Silco tilted his head to the side, sliding his eyes in Vander’s direction. “Something I can help you with?” he asked, the remaining smoke wisping in the air around his words. He put the filter between his lips again, taking another drag. 

Shit. Vander didn’t know what to say. He’d forgotten what he’d followed Silco outside for after he noticed how nice Silco’s hands looked, long fingers cupping around the cigarette and lighter, and it was taking a minute for his brain to come back online. Silco watched him with a small curl to his lips, waiting.

“Did you like your drink?” Vander finally asked.

Silco didn’t answer for a long moment, instead taking his time to ash his cigarette first. “You’re a bit heavy-handed with the gin,” Silco replied. “But it wasn’t bad.”

Vander felt unreasonably pleased at making something that Silco at least found tolerable. “So, you like gin drinks, then?”

Silco’s only reply was to tilt his head back and blow a series of smoke rings into the air. Vander could only stare and wait, mouth gone a bit dry. Then Silco was lazily turning his head towards Vander with a small smile playing on his lips. 

Alright, then.

No need to keep wasting his own time on this. Vander let out a short breath, frowning when Silco’s smirk got wider, and then Vander found himself asking a question that had been on his mind since the first time Silco had come to the clubhouse. “Why do you bother coming here if you’re not interested in interacting with anyone? You never look like you’re having a good time. Seems like a waste to stand around looking miserable.” Silco tapped his cigarette with his index finger, every bit unbothered by Vander’s questions as usual.

“Why do you insist on always talking to me even though I’ve made it clear I’m not interested in speaking?” There was an unspoken to you hanging at the end of that sentence that Vander valiantly tried to ignore. Finally, after weeks of trying, Silco said more than three words to him and it was essentially Silco telling Vander to fuck off. “If you’re hoping that I might give in to your charms–” The droll way Silco said the word charms, waving his cigarette in Vander’s direction made him fluster. “You should know that I don’t date jocks.” 

“You’re not exactly my type,” Vander shot back reflexively, heart pounding in his ears, taking pleasure in the way Silco’s brows twitched as he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek in obvious annoyance. Vander definitely didn’t imagine anything inappropriate as he watched the way it caused the thin skin to bulge out suggestively. 

“Well, then if you’re not trying to hit on me, what exactly is it you think you’re trying to accomplish?” Silco asked, tone bored.

Vander frowned, caught off guard by the question. “Just trying to get to know you, I guess,” Vander said with a shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets again. “You’re Felicia’s friend, too.”

“Just because I’m Felicia’s friend doesn’t mean we have to be friends. This isn’t kindergarten,” Silco said mildly. He took another languid drag of his cigarette, this time sending smoke circles towards Vander.

Vander clenched his jaw along with his fists in his pockets. Apparently bored with the conversation, Silco returned to looking up at the sky, which as the day had gone on was now covered in thin, wispy clouds. Vander’s mind circled back to his original question of why Silco bothered to come to the clubhouse at all, and he couldn’t help repeating it. “So then why do you keep coming?”

“Do you not want me here?” Silco asked on an exhale. “Is my presence a problem ?” A light breeze had picked up, carrying the smoke that spilled from Silco’s lips to wrap around Vander, almost as though caressing him with his words. Vander shivered.

“No,” he grit out. The clubhouse was more or less a public space, and Silco was there as a guest of one of his friends. There was no reason to outright object to his being there.

“So what does it matter why I’m here?” 

Vander didn’t have a good answer to that, and he could tell that if he stayed any longer he'd lose his temper and end up saying something he'd regret later. Without another word he turned to go back inside, leaving Silco to his cigarette.

+ + +

As much as he loathed to give Vander any credit, the question of why Silco continued to attend the post-game festivities at the clubhouse was a valid one. He made no attempt to hide that he didn’t care for crowds or that he wasn’t a fan of the piss water beer that the clubhouse served. And it wasn’t as though he needed to be there for Felicia’s sake; even if she wasn’t finally dating Connol, she knew Vander, and she was outgoing enough to feel comfortable in almost any situation. He needn’t worry about her safety; she could fight dirty with the best of them.

There were more productive ways that he could spend his time, surely. Studying would be a better option, either in his dorm or at the library. There was also that pair of jeans he needed to patch, or he could do his laundry…wash his hair, maybe…

It certainly wasn’t Vander’s pathetic attempts at conversation that kept him coming back either. Or, it hadn’t been at first. At first, it was annoying. At first, Silco assumed he would take a hint and give up trying. When that didn’t work he started saying less, just to be petty. But after a couple of horribly unimaginative attempts at small talk, Silco found that he was having fun allowing Vander to tease even the smallest bit of information from him. He was so earnest in his attempts and was so easily frustrated when Silco refused to engage.

After a while, Silco turned it into a little game for himself. Seeing if he could break his last record, how long it took Vander to finally concede and go back to his friends. He did this little huff, right before he was about to give up, a small impatient thing that Silco didn’t mind the look of. Objectively speaking, Vander was handsome, in a meathead kind of way; square-jawed and tall with broad shoulders, thick with muscle all the way down. And Silco couldn’t complain about receiving attention from a handsome man, even if that man refused to pick up on his very obvious signals indicating he’d rather be left alone. 

Honestly though, he’d now been to the clubhouse after four games, and he didn’t see the appeal. Vander asking why he came at all made him consider it, and he came to a quick conclusion that he shouldn’t waste his time anymore. Felicia would have to suck it up. Stubbing out his cigarette on the side of the building, he texted Felicia to let her know he was leaving. He had an exam to study for.

Chapter Text

School wasn’t something Silco really enjoyed like so many people assumed. He worked hard because he'd never had the option of skating by. Zaun University wasnt the most prestigious school he could have attended with his grades, but it was the place he could afford and, unlike the bastions of progress over in Piltover, Zaun University accepted the college credits he had earned taking advanced courses in high school.

So, instead of going to dorm parties, or rushing a fraternity, or engaging in any number of other “fun college experiences”, Silco studied. It wasn’t necessarily fun, or sexy, or whatever else college was supposed to be, but he’d never needed any of that before, had he?

The rugby games had been Felicia’s idea. He’d been able to resist her during freshman year, but now that they were established students, whatever that meant, she insisted he do more than write papers, read law journals, and obsessively track the Runeterra’s university debate teams’ season. Silco didn’t really feel the need to explain the fact that the latter was a bid to stay connected to an activity he’d loved in high school, but was forced to give up in favour of financial stability when he enrolled in university. It was none of her business and he didn’t need her pity. So instead, Silco had protested that he paid to attend the university so he could learn, an argument Felicia was quick to refute when she reminded him that “Not all learning takes place in the classroom. Some things you only learn through experience.” What he was meant to learn attending sports games and parties, Silco wasn’t sure, but he’d eventually relented.

”Okay, Silco, here’s the plan.” Felicia dumped her books on the table he had managed to claim for them in the library. Fortunately, she still carried around the keychain that he’d given her last year on her birthday, a piece of an old license plate with an “F” for her name. He’d picked it up at one of the thrift shops in town as a last minute gift and she had immediately added it to her small collection of keychains on her bag. He was glad she liked it, of course, but his intentions hadn’t been entirely pure of heart—the metal clanked when it was jostled, meaning that it acted as a bell of sorts, thus ending her ability to sneak up on him. 

“There’s a plan?” he drawled, marking his place in his textbook and giving her his full attention. Felicia grinned, pulling out her phone and showing him a map—no, a bus route. “I see.”

”The match this weekend is an away game, but it’s just over in Piltover, so we can actually go.” Silco didn’t make an effort to hide his sneer.

”Right, well, have fun with that.” He refused to step foot into Piltover, nevermind having to interact with the snobs as they looked down their noses at him.

”Silco, c’mon!” Felicia pleaded. “It’ll be fun to get off of campus, right? There’s a cool looking bar by the pitch there, like a speakeasy kind of thing. Vander wants to check it out, but he’s not sure if he’ll get the chance, so he asked me to do some recon.” Of course Vander would be interested in a pretentious Pilty speakeasy. Silco rolled his eyes and opened his book again.

”I get off of campus plenty,” he reminded her. The town surrounding Zaun U wasn’t anything grand, but they had a good music shop with a decent selection of records, and a couple of thrift shops that Silco frequented on weekends. Silco didn’t need more than that. He’d grown up in the old forgotten mining district, a crack in the earth that nobody cared about, and had learned how to get by on only what was necessary to survive. He didn’t see why that had to change now that he was in college.

“Aren’t you at last a little curious?” Felicia asked. “There’s a whole big wide world out there beyond Zaun.”

Silco sighed. “I know enough about Piltover and the people that live there to know it isn’t the type of place I want to visit and they aren’t the type of people I want to associate myself with.”

“C’mon, Silco,” Felicia weedled. “Please? For me? If you come this one time I promise I won’t ever ask again.”

Silco knew that was unlikely. But he also knew that if he didn’t agree that Felicia would only keep pestering him about it. “This is the one and only time I will go to that cesspit.” He spat the last word, so often used to describe his home. For all of Piltover’s shiny buildings and hoarding of government resources, he couldn’t think of a worse place to visit. “Now, can we study please? I’m pretty sure Dr. Reveck is trying to kill us with this assignment.”

They managed to focus for all of fifteen minutes before the next interruption arrived in the form of Connel. 

“Hey, Fel, Silco. How’s it going?” 

Silco liked Connel just fine, in small doses. He was a lanky, puppy of a man, tall and muscled like Vander, but half the size. He practically worshipped the ground Felicia walked on, and he was nothing but pleasant to Silco. Unlike some of his other teammates, he was happy to let Silco do his own thing and didn’t feel the need to force conversation. The only real issue was that, now that he and Felicia had gotten their shit together, he was usually glued to her side, and Silco didn’t want to play third wheel so often.

“Oh my god, babe! I thought you were at practice!” Felicia said, her voice bordering on a squeal, earning a look from one of the library aids reshelving books. Felicia jumped up to hug him, and Silco marked his place again; they weren’t going to get much done as long as Prince Charming was there. “I wasn’t planning on seeing you until later.” 

“Yeah, coach let us out early today. Wants us to rest up before the big game on Friday.” Great, so Silco got to look forward to seeing more of Connel than usual for the next two days.

”That seems counterintuitive,” Silco muttered to himself. Felicia shot him a look, but Connel was unruffled by his commentary.

”Right? I mean, we still did practice drills for two hours, but at least we didn’t also do conditioning, so I call that a win.” 

“You and Vander should come study with us! We’re working on Dr. Revek’s assignment on the periodic table and electron configurations.” Silco made a concerted effort to suppress his eye roll; he didn’t understand Felicia and Vander’s apparent mission to make them all friends. He had no interest in trying to weather more of Vander’s lackluster attempts at conversation.

”Actually, I have another project that I need to work on,” Silco said, standing and gathering his books, as if Vander was some kind of boogeyman that would appear if someone said his name enough times.

”Silco—“

”I’ll text you, about the reading.”

”Are you coming to the game?” Connol asked. "It’s our second against Piltover, it’s gonna be a good one.”

”Yes, he is,” Felicia said before Silco could answer. “We’re going to go together.”

”Yes,” Silco said, pasting on something akin to a smile. “No doubt it will be a night I won’t soon forget.” He shoved the last of his books in his backpack and said his goodbyes. If he was quick, he could make it to the dining hall before the evening rush.

---

When he was little, Silco’s grandmother would take him to Piltover for his birthday. They would take the bus to the edge of Zaun and then transfer onto a trolley, cleaner than any public transport Silco had seen before. She would save her pennies, just to take him to a small ice cream shop on the outskirts of the city, followed by a trip to a second-hand bookstore. Even their runoff was better quality than anything she would be able to purchase for him in Zaun.

The city always felt so huge, so bright and shining as it towered above them. For a while, he’d been young and naive enough not to notice how the city’s inhabitants sneered at them, these two gutter rats that dared sully their opulent streets. As he got older and learned more about the way the world worked, it became impossible not to see all the ways they clearly didn’t belong there. 

After his grandmother died, there wasn’t a reason to go anymore.

In the years since, it seemed that Piltover had only grown taller, more grand and self-important. He and Felicia stuck out like sores as they walked from the trolley station, his patched clothes and thrifted leather jacket causing some of the older Pilties to stare. Felicia had a better time fitting in, having dressed up for their visit to this speakeasy nonsense.

They had no issue finding the stadium which was buzzing with activity due to the game. The stands, which seemed to go on forever, so much bigger than Zaun U’s humble pitch, were packed with Pilties and Zaunites alike. The pitch was a perfectly manicured patch of green right in the middle. They could see Vander, Connol and the rest of the team doing warm ups as they climbed the stairs to find an open seat.

In spite of Silco’s concerted effort not to enjoy himself, there was no escaping the anticipation in the air. All around them was the hum of conversation, people making predictions about the outcome, calculating the odds in anticipation of placing bets, commenting on each teams’ strengths and weaknesses. Felicia passed the time before the match started by providing Silco with a team analysis for the Sentinels, including season statistics that had Silco wondering just how much she cared about the sport beyond her relationship.

Having seen Piltover play during the exhibition game earlier in the season, Silco wasn’t surprised when Felicia pointed out that their strategy was offensive forward and aggressive, while Zaun U favoured defense, letting the Sentinels exhaust themselves. 

This game was no different than the last. Both teams fought hard, and much of the game was Zaun U putting Piltover on the ground as the ball changed hands with either side barely gaining much ground. He joined in with Felicia’s cheering whenever Zaun had possession, caught up in the excitement again. 

Things were looking frustratingly bleak toward the end of the first half, but then, just before the midpoint of the game, an opening that shouldn’t have existed appeared in the Piltover defensive line right as the ball sailed into Vander’s hands. Felicia and Silco sat forward in their seats, breath held as they watched Vander charge down the pitch on a break away. The closest Piltover player was easily three yards behind him, and Vander was only gaining distance. It was amazing that such a large man could be so fast, his cleats kicking up the pitch behind him.

“GO! C’MON V!” Felicia yelled, holding onto Silco’s arm and shaking him. The crowd around them went crazy as Vander approached the end of the pitch, Piltover only just within touching distance. Hands wrapped around his knees at the last second, but it was too late. Vander had crossed the scoring line, the ball touching the ground before he did. The whistle that went up signalling a successful try sent the Zaunite section of the stadium into a frenzy. Silco returned Felicia’s hug, wincing when she screamed directly in his ear without realizing.

The energy in the Zaun U section of the stadium only increased when Vander sent the ball sailing through the goalposts on a conversion making the score 6-0. 

It didn’t last long, though, as the ball quickly returned to play and the two teams were at it again. The try had clearly rattled Piltover, and their defense turned aggressive. “They’re getting sloppy,” Felicia observed. “It’s obvious that they had been relying on a home field advantage, but now that we’ve pulled out ahead, they’re desperate to regain the upper hand.”

“And maintain their prestigious image,” Silco sneered.

As the clock ticked down on the second half, score tied 24-24, Connol ran down the pitch with the Sentinels charging behind him, hot on his heels. Felicia was holding Silco’s hand so tightly he was starting to get worried about the blood circulation in his fingers. The crowd went quiet when Connol slowed, dropping the ball and kicking it. Time seemed to stand still. It was so quiet that they could hear when the ball connected with Connol’s foot, as the crowd watched with bated breath while it sailed through the goalposts. As the ball cleared the crossbar and the whistle sounded confirming the goal was good, it was like all sound returned at once, the stadium erupting into chaos.

The game ended with a Zaun U victory by a single point.

Leaving the stadium after the game was an experience of its own given the volume of people in attendance. All around them fellow Zaunites celebrated in the stands, pausing on the stairs to hug or high-five, or call out some taunt to the Pilties around them, delaying their exodus. Silco kept close to Felicia as they descended the stairs, conscious of the sour mood of the Pilties following such a dramatic loss and already feeling uncomfortable in Piltover in general. The outright provocation given their location felt dangerously like asking for trouble.

Eventually, they made it out onto the street again amongst the dispersing crowds. “C’mon, speakeasy’s this way,” Felicia said, pointing back the way they had come before the game. The crowd was still thick, but Felicia slipped her hand into Silco’s and confidently led them through it, unbothered by the noise and the press of bodies. Silco tried to keep his head down as much as possible, especially when he realized that some of the Pilties were scowling at them. Felicia didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care.

Silco lost track of how long they walked, instead focusing on their surroundings. Paranoid? Maybe, but better safe than sorry. Felicia paused to check her phone and then glanced at a nearby street sign. Turning enough to speak to Silco over her shoulder, she said, ”It should be right up here.” She was pointing towards a nondescript entrance in one of the towering buildings. Silco allowed himself to be led, keeping any comments to himself. If he had nothing nice to say…

The door to the bar was down a short flight of stairs, leading them into the belly of the proverbial beast. The doorman—a doorman— welcomed them inside, holding the door for them. Silco caught the doorman looking him up and down, lip barely curling in thinly veiled distaste. They didn’t belong there. How dare they try to walk amongst the chosen people?

”Woah.” Felicia stopped suddenly, causing Silco to run into her back.

”What—woah.” 

The ceiling of the bar appeared to be a seamless screen, playing an underwater scene that made the room feel like it was under the Pilt. The other lighting cast a soft, blue tinge to the room. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any more grand, a large fish, the kind found deep in the old mines, appeared to swim above them, so realistic that Silco almost reached out a hand to touch it.

”Holy shit, this is so cool,” Felicia said, staring up at the ceiling as she moved forward. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care that the other patrons were glancing at them, at least one of the Pilties snickering behind their hand. Silco jammed his hands into the pocket of his jacket, hackles raised. “Can you imagine trying to program this?”

”I can’t imagine why anyone would find it necessary, considering none of them would be caught dead anywhere close to the river,” Silco muttered. 

Felicia rolled her eyes at his attitude and led them to the bar, hopping up onto one of the tall stools. The rest of the bar’s aesthetic felt familiar in a way that made Silco’s skin crawl. The smooth wood and brass were fashioned to look weathered, like the structures found in Zaun. The mirrors that lined the bar back framed by swooping ironwork, so disparate from the straight, gleaming lines of the rest of the city. It felt like a whitewashed, sanitized version of his home.

But why not? Why have to worry about being caught dead in Zaun, slumming it in the grimy bars that lined the city center, when they could build something that offered a similar experience without having to actually rub shoulders with the people who lived there.

The bar wasn’t too crowded, despite its proximity to the stadium. Silco never wore any Zaun U branded clothes, so he wasn’t necessarily worried about them being harassed, but he wasn’t sure Connel and Vander wouldn’t cause problems. “Do you think this is wise? I can’t imagine that Piltover is feeling very gracious towards us, considering their defeat.” Silco kept his voice low, speaking directly to Felicia.

”Don’t be such a worry wart, Silco. It’ll be fine.” Silco scowled, leaning onto the bar. There were two bartenders working, both dressed unreasonably well to serve drinks. Although, this felt like the type of place that called their bartenders “mixologists”, just to make their patrons feel special.

“What’ll it be?” One of the bartenders approached where they were sitting. He looked Silco over, raising a brow at his jacket and sour expression.

”What’s good here?” Felicia asked, already perfectly comfortable in the space in a way that Silco was never able to fully manage. He could usually fake it with the best of them, but his deep seated hatred for Piltover was hard to hide. He looked around the room warily, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble while the bartender described their offerings with words like “infusion” and “smoked”. Who the fuck needed to smoke a drink? Silco balked at the idea of actually ordering something. He could only imagine how much it might cost, and he didn’t have that kind of money to throw around before the end of the month. Felicia didn’t seem concerned, however, and ordered one of the drinks the bartender had described. 

“And you?” the bartender asked. Shit. Silco scanned the neatly arranged bottles behind the bar, searching for a familiar brand, something to indicate what to expect for his final bill, but all of the bottles looked more expensive than anything Silco had ever seen before. When Silco failed to offer his own order, Felicia elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

He caught sight of a bottle he thought he might recognize, some vodka he’d seen before. ”Vodka tonic,” Silco bit out, before he could think about it. If the bartender had any judgments based on his order, he didn’t share them. 

“I thought you hated vodka,” Felicia said, raising a brow at him. He ran his tongue along the backs of his teeth and focused on the reflection of fish swimming in the mirrored barback rather than answering her. She had the decency to not call him out on his bad attitude—again—instead deciding to change the subject towards their chemistry project.

Felicia was half-way through her drink, an over complicated affair with too many garnishes, in Silco’s humble opinion, when Vander and Connol finally arrived. They had the good sense to dress as simply as possible to not draw attention to themselves, at least. They were both still charged up from the game, faces stuck in wide smiles, beaming at Felicia’s congratulations. Silco ducked his head and cast a quick look around the room in case any of the Pilties around them took offence to their joy.

“Convinced coach we had friends in the city we could get back to campus with,” Connol explained as he pressed a kiss to Felicia’s cheek. His ears quickly turned as red as his flushed cheeks as they made heart eyes at each other. “This place is insanely cool. Can you imagine what it must have taken to program the ceiling?” 

“That’s what I said!”

Vander gave Silco a stitled nod as he took the unoccupied seats next to him. Silco watched as Vander’s eyes fell to the cup in front of him with obvious curiosity. He’d barely touched the thing, already having decided that he wasn’t going to purchase anything else. Recalling Vander’s apparent obsession with his decision to nurse his drinks, Silco took a sip of his cup. He could feel Vander’s eyes on him as he grimaced, unable to school his expression in time. He truly despised vodka, but even he could tell that the quality was probably decent by the way it didn’t send a burn through his sinuses.

“The drinks here that bad?” Vander asked with a chuckle. His face was still red from the game, his hair damp from whatever shower he’d managed to take at the stadium. Silco shrugged; Vander could find that out for himself, as far as he was concerned.

”The drinks here are great,” Felicia said, before Vander could really start up his usual song and dance. “Silco ordered vodka for some reason.” Damn it all. Silco shot Felicia a withering look. “What?” she said, laughing. “Was that supposed to be some kind of secret? It’s not like I told him your social security number.”

“I think maybe he’s upset because I’ve been trying to learn even the smallest bit of information about him and you just freely offered what he’s been withholding all this time,” Vander supplied. 

“Oh my god! Silco!” Felicia laughed. She bumped his foot beneath the table.

Silco suddenly felt the way Felicia must have that first time at the rugby game, caught between the two of them and their teasing. It wasn’t a fun feeling. He took another reluctant sip of his drink to hide it.

+ + +

It was a bit of an exercise getting their coach to allow him and Connol to slip away to meet up with Felicia and Silco. But after assurances that they were meeting friends and were capable of getting back to campus, they were reluctantly released to post-game festivities. 

The speakeasy was like nothing Vander could have imagined. He knew it would be fancy. Everything in Piltover was. It was small–cozy, he might say, which was normal for that kind of establishment–but the finishings made it feel particularly opulent. They found Felicia and Silco at a table near the back and slipped into the empty chairs available. Silco had a cup with something clear in it that looked like it hadn’t been touched. Felicia’s glass, on the other hand, was half empty already. Some kind of mutli-coloured concoction with half a dozen garnishes.

If he was being honest, Vander hadn’t actually expected Silco to come to the game, much less The Crafted Pour. He looked just about as happy to be there as he did at the clubhouse, scowling into a drink that he didn’t even like— again . Vander let Connol and Felicia have a couple of minutes to greet each other, once again unable to sit in the quiet with Silco.

Having Felicia there to expose Silco’s harshly guarded secrets was a delightful surprise, however. 

“I’m gonna get a drink. Vander, you want anything?” Connol asked, finally done fawning over his girlfriend. Sometimes Vander missed when they were dancing around each other.

”Nah, I’ll come with you. Not sure what I want yet.” He let Connol lead the way, quickly glancing over his shoulder to catch Silco and Felicia arguing in whispers. The alcohol had made Silco’s cheeks pink already, for all that his drink was still practically full.

”When are you going to actually do something about that, V?” Connol asked, smirking at him while they waited for a bartender to notice them. The bar was starting to truly fill up, more and more Sentinels fans beginning to complain about the game. Vander stepped a bit closer to Connol, covering his back, just in case. He wasn’t usually so cynical about the Piltover Zaun U rivalry, but he also knew that people tended to lose their heads when alcohol was involved. “Vander.”

”What?” 

Connol rolled his eyes. “When are you going to actually do something about Silco?” Vander watched as Connol’s eyes darted to the side, no doubt looking over his shoulder where Felicia and Silco were sitting. Vander felt his body flush hot at the implication, especially given his recent declaration that Silco was not his type, not to mention Silco’s own stated policy of not dating jocks, which of the two was the bigger barrier to doing anything if ever he was to try.

”Don’t you start,” Vander grunted, knocking Connol’s shoulder. Fortunately, the bartender chose that moment to see them, coming over to ask what they wanted. Connol gave his order, including a second of whatever Felicia was drinking. “I’ll get a Southside.” It was spur of the moment decision, but he couldn’t stand the thought of watching Silco drink something he hated in a place like this.

”But really, it’s kind of hard to watch the two of you,” Connol said again. Vander couldn’t resist the urge to look over at Silco. This time, he caught Silco looking away, taking another sip of his drink with a hard grimace. Yeah, no, he refused to watch that happen.

”It’s hard to watch you and Felicia drool all over each other, but you don’t hear me mention it, do you?” Connol held his hands up in surrender. 

They had to wade through the crowd back to their table once they finally got their drinks, taking their respective seats again. Felicia was in the middle of telling some story about her roommate, well and truly tipsy. Vander slid his drink in front of Silco without a word, grabbing the vodka drink from his hand and taking a sip. Silco blinked at the drink, pale green and in a stemmed glass, garnished with lemon peel and a sprig of mint, then at Vander, possibly shocked into brief silence. Vander could see Felicia and Connol glance at each other, but decided not to react; no need to give them the satisfaction.

”Hey, I was drinking that,” Silco said, his tone tinged with disbelief. He was glaring up at Vander, lips pinched into a scowl. From this position Vander noticed how long his lashes were. Combined with the pink flush of alcohol, he looked unfairly pretty.

”No, you weren’t,” Vander said flatly. “Drink that instead. Fel, did you get to the part where her girlfriend—“

”Not yet! So—“ she jumped back into her story, effectively moving on from the moment and towing the rest of them in her current. Vander carefully didn’t look at Silco, instead forcing himself to focus on Felicia’s story, laughing as she started giggling more than she was speaking. He could just barely see Silco move out of the corner of his eye. He was careful to sneak a look at him as he sipped the Southside, at the way his eyelashes fluttered in surprise when he tasted it, taking another sip quickly after the first. Vander felt his arms break out in satisfied goosebumps at knowing he chose better this time.

Silco seemed to sense Vander watching him and he set the glass down carefully, crossing his arms over his chest for a brief moment before abruptly pushing away from the table. “I’m going outside for a smoke,” he said, ignoring the surprised looks from his companions.

Vander cast a glance towards the next table over, filled with a small group of people about their age. At least three of them were smoking without issue, so there was no reason for Silco to go out, but no one stopped him. Felicia shrugged, going back to whatever she was saying to Connol, and Vander relaxed back into his seat. If Silco needed a moment or some air or both, no one there was going to interfere. Even still, Vander tracked Silco through the busy bar crowd to the door, fully relaxing only once it closed behind him. He glanced down at his watch, making note of the time, just in case.

No one this far back in the bar looked like they were getting ready to leave, but Vander’s eyes caught on a man from a nearby table standing a few moments after Silco and making his way to the door. Something about the man’s expression had the hair on the back of Vander’s neck standing on end. There was no need to worry, truly, but something made Vander keep an eye on his watch periodically, waiting for Silco to return. 

When almost ten minutes had passed and Silco had yet to return, Vander started to feel anxious. Maybe Silco decided he needed more than one cigarette. Maybe someone coming in had decided to strike up a conversation. Maybe someone was giving him a hard time because he so obviously looked like he wasn’t from Piltover.

Another couple minutes ticked past. Vander told himself that Silco would be back in just another minute, it would be fine. After repeating that twice, Vander couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m going to check on Silco,” he said, pushing away from the table before Felicia or Connol could question him. He pushed through the crowd towards the door with growing urgency, using his size to his advantage while trying to not be rude. 

He went up the stairs to the street, looking in either direction for any sign of Silco and finding none. He really should have asked Felicia to just text Silco or something. The longer he stood out there, the more absurd he felt.Then he heard it, somewhere to his left. Voices. Silco’s scathing tenor for sure and another male voice he didn’t recognise. 

“This has gone from mildly amusing to pathetic. Go waste your time elsewhere, for both our sakes.” Vander recognized that familiar drawl to Silco’s voice, the one that usually had him giving up and walking away, but there was something else there, a sharp edge of self defense. He had scoffed when the coach had told them to be careful in Piltover, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Vander didn’t make the conscious decision to pull his phone out of his pocket, quickly opening his camera and starting to record the sidewalk. He stood against the wall, stepping quietly in the direction of the second voice chuckling as if Silco had told a joke.

“I’m only trying to be…hospitable. You’re pretty for a trencher, and I’d like to see if the rumors about you fissure folk are true. Maybe I could…make it worth your while?” the voice said, cloyingly sweet considering what they were saying. Vander’s jaw clenched. They couldn’t really be—

“Fuck you,” Silco spat. Vander heard one of their shoes scrape against the sidewalk.

“C’mon, I’m just trying to be nice. It’s not like you couldn’t use the money, right, sweetheart?”

“Get your hand off of me,” Silco said acidly. That was the final straw. 

Vander heard his teeth creak with how hard he was clenching them as he came around the corner. Silco was backed against the side of the building with the same tall Pilty guy he’d seen leaving the bar after Silco. He was leaning into Silco’s space with an arm against the wall, blocking his exit. He felt a sick sense of vindication that his bad feeling at the time was warranted. 

“Silco, this is where you snuck off to,” Vander said, keeping his tone casual as he approached. “What have you gotten up to?”

The guy glared at Vander, but didn’t move away from Silco, whose face was a complicated mix of emotions as he looked at Vander; a panicked edge begging him to intervene buried under a scowl saying to just leave it alone. “Nothing that involves you,” the guy said, completely unconcerned with the consequences of one trencher discovering him propositioning another. “Fuck off.”

“See that’s just not true,” Vander replied, his casual tone taking on a particularly chilly edge. He continued approaching steadily, going for unconcerned. He didn’t want this to get violent if it didn’t have to. “Because this here is a friend of mine, so I think it does involve me.”

The guy sneered and dropped his arm, only taking a step back when Vander frowned. Silco stayed flattened to the wall, body still bowstring tight. “You should leave, friend . I’d hate for something bad to happen.” Vander saw the moment the Pilty clocked that he had his phone out. He lifted his chin in a weak attempt to look tough. “Seriously, you’re recording this? Did the two of you plan this little game? Have him lure me out here so that you can catch a bit of footage that paints me as the bad guy? Then extort me because I what? Offered your friend a bit of money?”

Vander took a deep breath, whistling low as he stopped the recording. He swiped back to the beginning, letting it start with the tinny version of the Pilty offering to make it worth Silco’s while. “I don’t think any of us want to kick up a fuss,” Vander said with a cold smile. He watched as the Pilty turned back towards Silco, who started to smirk. But Vander knew what Silco’s “I’ve outsmarted you” smirk looked like. Now all he could see was the mix of fear and fury in his eyes. “Now, I see no reason why my friend here and I can’t go back inside and collect the rest of our group. And you’re going to graciously cover our tab for the evening. Sound good? And we can all forget this ever happened.”

“Fucking trenchers, I should’ve known better,” the Pilty said, spitting at Vander’s feet. Vander remained still, keeping up a friendly facade, as if this asshole was some patron in his parent’s bar and he was cutting him off for the night. “Fine.”

“Wonderful!” Vander said. “Come on, Silco. Let’s head back inside.” He waved Silco to go ahead, then their new Pilty acquaintance. “After you.” Vander followed behind the Pilty to make sure he didn’t ditch and bail on their agreement.

Inside the bar, Vander slipped an arm around the Pilty’s shoulders, giving his arm a tight squeeze. He didn’t often use his size to intimidate people, but it was useful when he needed it. He slid his other arm around Silco’s narrow shoulders, to sell the friendly image, but he had to admit that it felt more protective than simple camaraderie. Silco went tense under the unexpected touch but relaxed fractionally after only a second or two. Vander stretched his neck to find his friends over the crowd. “Connol! Fel! We need to head out. But our new friend here has graciously offered to pay our tab for the evening.” He gave the Pilty’s arm another squeeze. “Proper Piltover hospitality!”

He could just make out his friends glancing at each other, but then they collected their things and made their way across the room towards them. The other Pilties in the room made space for them to pass, whispering to one another as they watched Connol and Felicia join Vander and Silco at the entrance.

“Thanks again, pal,” Vander said, patting the Pilty firmly on the back before turning towards the door once more, arm still wrapped around Silco’s shoulder. It was a shock that the smaller man hadn’t moved away yet. Felicia and Connol looked tense as the four of them headed up the stairs.

“What was all that about?” Felicia hissed once they reached the street. Their abrupt departure seemed to have sobered her up a bit.

“Don’t worry about it,” Vander said tightly. He let his hand slip from around Silco’s shoulders reluctantly. “But I wasn’t kidding when I said we need to head out.” Silco scowled but said nothing.

“What the hell happened?” Connol asked.

“I said don’t worry about it,” Vander repeated firmly.

Felicia cast a worried look at Silco, falling into step with him and letting Vander and Connol lead the way back to the trolley station. Vander heard her trying to ask Silco what had happened, but Silco remained stubbornly silent.

---

The four friends were quiet as they waited for the trolly that would take them out of Piltover and connect them with the bus back to Zaun University. Connol had his arm around Felicia’s shoulders, and Silco stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Vander hovered awkwardly between them. His eyes kept straying to Silco, looking for any sign that he was hurt in some way that Vander hadn’t noticed before. 

“Stop staring at me,” Silco said in a low voice. 

He didn’t mean to stare, but it was hard not to. He looked so different from the other times Vander had encountered him. 

Vander couldn’t stop thinking about Silco and that Pilty alone on the street outside the bar. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t gone to intervene. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t think Silco wasn’t capable of handling himself. There was a lot about the other man he didn’t know, but he got the sense he was able to fend for himself. It’s just… as a Zaunite in Piltover territory, things could have escalated quickly, and not many people in Piltover would have stopped to ask who was at fault...there was a reason he had started recording the situation, even if he hadn’t done it consciously. 

The trolly finally arrived after what felt like ages and they piled on. It was busy despite the late hour, all of the seats taken by their fellow Zaunites finally heading home. Vander noticed a few of them sporting split lips and bruised knuckles, shivering as he thought of Silco, shaken but unharmed. They squeezed onto the car, finding an open pocket to accommodate the four of them. Vander held the bar overhead, planting his feet to shield Silco and Felicia on one side with Connol on the other.

When they and the other travelers were situated, the trolley moved smoothly forward, and they were off. 

The trip from Piltover to the bus exchange wasn’t a long one, but after the events of the day the short ride felt longer, and they still had the ride back to campus by bus. Silco glanced up at Vander briefly during the ride and they held each other’s eyes for a second, a wordless acknowledgement of what had happened, what could have happened, before Silco looked away. There was still a tightness around his mouth, but mostly Vander thought he just looked tired. Not that he could blame him. With the adrenaline from the confrontation worn off, Vander felt exhausted, too. Even the high of their win that afternoon felt like a distant memory.

A sudden bump on the line caused the occupants of the trolley car to lurch. Vander caught Silco as he stumbled, wrapping his arm around Silco’s shoulders, leaving it there for a moment to steady him. “You alright?” Vander asked, concern spiking when Silco didn’t immediately push him away. Instead, Silco fisted his hand in the front of Vander’s shirt for support.

”I’m fine .” Silco said, but his voice was devoid of any of the ire it normally carried. He could feel the way Silco was shivering under his arm, so Vander decided to keep it there until Silco protested.

Vander glanced over towards Felicia and Connol, where Felicia was tucked against his chest a couple feet away. Her eyes were half closed, heavy with sleep. Connol raised an eyebrow at Vander, making a show of looking down where Silco was similarly situated against him and then back to Vander’s face, a small, “I told you so” kind of smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. Vander shook his head, both in response to the unspoken question and to indicate that he wasn’t willing to talk about it. Connol shrugged, but the look on his face said he thought that Vander had finally done something. 

In a way he guessed he had, but not in the way Connol expected. 

Silco sighed, shifting to lean with his shoulder against Vander’s chest. Whether it was the late hour, or what happened at the bar, he was clearly exhausted and unwilling to fight it. Vander gave his other shoulder a gentle squeeze, pulling him more tightly against him.

They found seats on the bus back to Zaun U. Silco took the window, tucking himself into the seat and leaning against the glass. Vander took the seat next to him. Despite Silco’s small size and the way he’d pressed himself against the side of his seat, Vander’s bulk still encroached into his space. He did his best to give him as much room as he could. It would be easier for Vander to put his arm across the back of the seat and have Silco lean into him, but it was clear the smaller man had reached his limit for physical contact for the day. Vander didn’t take it personally.

But if he missed the warmth of Silco’s body and the way the smaller man fit against him, well…that was for him to deal with.

Chapter Text

After what felt like endless hours of travel back to campus, Silco slumped into his dorm room, feet leaden and head hanging heavy on his shoulders. He fumbled for the light switch for what felt like a full minute before his fingers finally caught it, wincing against the burning fluorescent glare. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Silco thanked whatever deity was listening that he didn’t have to worry about a roommate.

It still boggled the mind, even weeks into the semester, that his roommate never showed, leaving his double to himself. Perhaps the universe had decided to grant him this small mercy after his shitstorm of life experiences. Or maybe the guy was hit by a truck. Silco liked to imagine it was the former. 

He kicked off his boots at the door, quickly divesting himself of his jacket. That Piltover asshole had been wearing some kind of horrid cologne, strong enough that it clung to Silco hours after the fact. Sour like rot, but with floral tones that covered the worst of it. He felt like he was marinating in the remaining fumes, leaving him feeling vaguely nauseous for a few different reasons and with a brewing headache. This jacket was leather, too, so laundering it wouldn’t be as simple as throwing it in the dorm’s washing machine. It was probably the headache talking, but Silco was half tempted to burn it. Too bad he wasn’t about to destroy clothes just for the sake of his ego.

He quickly peeled the rest of his clothes off, balling them up with shaking hands and shoving them in his hamper. When that didn't cover the stench, he pulled all of his dirty laundry out and buried the outfit he’d been wearing at the bottom of his hamper before tossing the rest of his laundry back on top. He rubbed his hands over his face, digging his fingertips into his temples to try and ease the pounding there. If he really concentrated, he thought he could smell traces of Vander’s shirt on his fingers, left from when he’d grabbed onto the other man like his life depended on it.

Pathetic. 

At least he had smelled better than the Pilty had. Sandalwood and bergamot and something else that Silco couldn’t quite place–warm and earthy with a salty edge.

Despite his exhaustion from an exciting day off campus, he felt wired. He pulled on his robe and grabbed his shower caddy and towel, determined to scrub any scent but his own from his skin. It was late enough that the rest of his floor was relatively quiet, those not out at parties sleeping, studying, or whatever else. It meant the bathroom would be free for him to take a shower without having to worry about taking too long or being hyper aware of how vulnerable it felt to shower with relative strangers in the same room.

He chose one of the center stalls, the one that got the hottest water, and cranked the faucet all the way to the left. The cloying stench of the Pilty’s cologne lingered in his nostrils. But what else could you expect from Piltover. Everything about that city left a stain on you.

Silco waited until steam began to waft through the air before he stepped beneath the scalding spray. He grit his teeth as the hot water rushed over his body, turning his skin pink almost immediately. It hurt, but Silco leaned into it. This pain he could control, like pressing on a bruise. He grabbed the soap from his caddy and began scrubbing away the humiliation. 

He tried to think about anything besides the past few hours, but his mind kept cycling back to that alley, to being propositioned, to Vander’s face when he’d come to the rescue. A sudden, harsh wave of fury knocked the breath from his lungs. He hadn’t even wanted to fucking go to Piltover. To that pretentious fucking bar. He slammed his fist into the tile next to the tap with a grunt, pain lancing up his arm from the impact. He did it again and again until the skin across his knuckles began to crack and bleed and his arm began to feel numb. The hot water stung the open wound as it washed over it, introducing a new layer of painful sensation that helped to ground him in the moment. He flexed his fingers gently, easing the ache there. He had only gone because Felicia had insisted—and why? Why did she demand that he spend time with her stupid jock boyfriend and his equally—equally—

Silco went cold in spite of the hot water burning into his skin. Vander had recorded it. 

Who knew how long he’d been listening before that creep had actually propositioned him. It wasn’t bad enough that Silco had to experience that humiliation, no, Vander had to witness it. Had to fucking record it . A small part of Silco reminded him that Vander recording it had been the best way to diffuse the situation, to make sure that if something happened, then it wouldn’t be Silco’s word against the Pilty’s.

If something happened…

A myriad of scenarios flashed through Silco’s mind of what could have happened if Vander hadn’t arrived when he had, each more gruesome than the last. He imagined himself forgotten in some ditch on the outskirts of Piltover, where property values started to plummet and people didn’t glance twice at shady figures. No one would ever look for him, and no one would ever find him. Discarded like the Zaunite trash he was, the Pilty going on with his life unbothered because why care when you know you’ll never face any consequences?

And Vander had just kept looking at him, after. He could feel Vander’s eyes on him, the worry bearing down on his skin like a physical touch. It made Silco’s skin crawl to remember the pity he’d seen there. Poor, dirty little Silco Leach. Unable to chase off one entitled prick, needing to be rescued.

And he had needed to be rescued. First on the street, then on the trolley, when the adrenaline had finally worn off and he’d stumbled, holding onto Vander like a lifeline. And Vander had just let him .

Then there was the physical touch itself, the easy way that Vander had wrapped his arm around him protectively. For all the walls Silco put up around himself, Vander seemed to be an expert at finding all his weak spots, because Silco had let him right back. Had said nothing. Had let that hand, warm and large, stay there. A comforting weight. A barrier between Silco and the rest of the world.

He supposed he should be thankful that Vander, for all his annoying persistence, seemed to actually care about Silco’s well-being, even going so far as to make sure that Silco had something he actually liked to drink. It was a simple thing, and shouldn't mean so much, but Silco wasn’t used to people caring about what he wanted. When you grew up without many options, what you wanted was secondary to everything else. 

Even if Vander hadn’t been there, if his over-attentiveness hadn’t forced Silco’s limits, Silco would have found his way outside to smoke regardless. He wasn’t sure that Felicia would have bothered to come check on him, and if she had, what she would have done in the same situation. He didn’t doubt that she would have been able to handle herself, like he didn’t doubt that Connol would have been glued to her side. 

And yet Silco hated that Vander had seen him like that. Had witnessed his humiliation. 

He scrubbed himself twice over until his skin was red from his rough handling and the hot water. By the time he made it back to his room, he was just…tired. Hollowed out. 

He put on some music, keeping the volume low so as to not bother his neighbors, something to ease his mind and lead him toward sleep. But as he lay in his bed in the dark room, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. He struggled with a healthy sleep schedule under the best conditions, much less after being harassed and made a fool of.

After laying in bed for an hour willing sleep to come to him, Silco sat up and turned on his bedside lamp. He reached for one of his textbooks on the bedside table and flipped it open to the current chapter. He was already ahead of the syllabus, but maybe burying himself in dry academic theory for a bit would help him fall asleep. 

When he reached the end of the chapter feeling no less tired than he had before, he set the textbook aside with a sigh, sliding out of bed and digging beneath it for the bottle of cheap gin he kept there. It was almost empty. He’d have to buy a new one soon. 

Wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, he carried the bottle to the window where a crumpled pack of cigarettes and lighter sat waiting. It took a moment to get himself arranged, flicking the lighter to life and lighting the cigarette held delicately between his lips. He sucked the smoke into his lungs, exhaling slowly out the open window, watching the curl of it on the breeze. 

The dorms were non-smoking, but at least the lack of funding meant that the fire alarm system was lackluster enough that a fan facing the open window did the trick.

Silco stayed there, alternating swigs from the bottle and working his way through the last of his cigarettes, until the sun crept over the horizon, painting the sky orange and coral. His back ached from his hunched position, and his eyes felt sandy and dry from a lack of sleep. He had a shift in the library that morning, but it was Saturday, so god willing, he could come back to his room and get some proper sleep afterwards.

— — —

As work study jobs went, Silco was pretty pleased with being a library assistant. The work was straightforward and didn’t require him to interact with anyone. Most of his shifts were spent reshelving books in the stacks, listening to music or a podcast. Occasionally, his fellow students would ask him for directions to a specific section of the library. Sure, there were things he’d prefer to be doing on a weekend, but sacrificing was something he was used to anyway, and the job was easy.

After his Piltover excursion and subsequent all-nighter, even his most aggressive music wasn’t doing much to keep him on his feet during his shift, and his second cup of coffee had only served to make him jittery. His brain felt foggy, the letters and numbers on each book swimming as he tried to remember where Modern History of Runeterra was supposed to go on the shelf. It would probably be easier if his head stopped throbbing, not to mention the bruises that had bloomed over his knuckles from his rough treatment of them in the shower. He should probably drink some water, but that would require him to make a smart decision, and clearly he wasn’t particularly good at making those of late.

He was still contemplating a trip to the nearest water fountain when movement at the end of the aisle caught his eye. He looked up just in time to see Vander come into view and he bit back a groan of frustration; ever since that first rugby game, Vander had felt like a shadow that Silco couldn’t get rid of. Zaun U’s campus wasn’t that small , and yet everywhere he looked, Vander somehow appeared . Like a ghost. Or a curse.

He ducked his head, trying to come up with a way to avoid being seen, but he couldn’t think quickly enough to devise an escape route, and he was pretty sure that the fastest pace he could manage right now was shuffling zombie. At the last minute, he managed to pull the sleeves of his hoodie down to cover his hand; no need for Vander to start fretting about his abused knuckles.

”Silco?” Shit. Silco steeled himself for imminent conversation now that he had been spotted. He looked over to see Vander walking towards him with an easy smile. The other man had no right to look so good—in an objective way, of course. He was all boyish charm and broad shoulders, exactly the type that Silco usually managed to avoid, except, apparently, the universe was keen on forcing them together.

“Hey,” Vander said quietly as he got close. Silco didn’t return the greeting, but he flicked his eyes towards him in reluctant acknowledgement as he reached for another book on the cart and slid it into its place on the shelf in front of him. He hoped that Vander would take the lack of response as the dismissal Silco intended, but he just stood there, still smiling for some god forsaken reason. “I didn’t know you worked at the library.”

“I didn’t know you knew where the library was,” Silco said finally as he reshelved another book. Just go away.  

“Yeah, well. Easy to make assumptions when you don’t know much about somebody,” Vander said, with a soft chuckle. But was that a pointed edge Silco detected in his tone, or was he being paranoid? Vander huffed as he pushed a hand through his hair, causing the arm of the Henley he wore to stretch around the bulge of his bicep. If that wasn’t bad enough, Silco now knew what that bicep felt like across his shoulders, the steady weight of it. His sleep deprived brain had no problem wondering if Vander would let him lean against that barrel chest, just long enough to rest his eyes.

“A curious discovery for me, then,” Silco replied. He pushed his cart a few inches down the aisle as he searched for the correct spot for his next book. Putting some space between them helped Silco think a little more clearly, at least. Vander shifted his weight from foot to foot like he was waiting for something, and Silco sighed. Turning to face him, he leaned an elbow onto the cart of books. He wanted to fall asleep so fucking badly. “What do you want, Vander? I’m working.”

Vander ducked his head in a way that Silco might have found endearing under other circumstances—or from someone else entirely. “Yeah, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Of course that’s what Vander wanted.

“I’m fine,” Silco replied automatically. He watched the way Vander’s eyes swept over him, no doubt taking in his moderately disheveled state, the bags under his eyes. He had tried to make himself presentable enough for his shift, but he knew the results of his efforts were…lacking. The Silco of a few hours ago, partially hung over with a headache pounding behind his eyes, hadn’t cared much, but now he was wishing he had put in a little more effort. He looked rough and he knew it, and the way Vander’s smile slipped towards something like worry said he knew it, too. Thankfully he had the decency not to say anything. 

“Good, good. Glad to hear it,” Vander said instead, and the conversation hung there, open ended. Silco was uninterested in pulling the thread to see where it went.

“Riveting conversation, as always,” he commented dryly, turning back to his work, hoping that Vander would take a fucking hint already and leave Silco be. Instead Vander ducked his head again, rubbing one of his large hands over the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I just…I don’t really know what to say. I just…wanted to check on you, is all.”

Silco bit his tongue to keep from asking why Vander cared so much about his well being. He was a big boy, fully capable of fending for himself and comfortable doing so. Not even Felicia babied him like this. That someone else even considered him at all felt foreign, like an itchy wool sweater. He didn’t know what to do with it, how to react when Vander looked at him like he really, truly just wanted to make sure Silco was okay. 

“Thank you.” Silco was surprised to realise that he meant it. He glanced at Vander in time to catch him blinking, obviously caught on the back foot. “For checking in on me, and for…well.” He made an abstract gesture with his hand, realizing too late that the sleeve was no longer covering his abused knuckles.

Vander made a sound that Silco couldn’t decipher and reached out as though to grab Silco’s hand, but when Silco went rigid he paused, instead shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “I didn’t—when did you hit him?” Silco grabbed his sleeve and pulled it back down, wrapping his fingers in the hem to keep it in place. He crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his damaged hand away as extra protection against Vander’s worried scrutiny.

”I didn’t. This is unrelated.” He glared at Vander then, willing him to drop it and just leave. “No need to fret; you interrupted things before it got to that point.” Vander looked like he wanted to ask more, but Silco pushed his cart down the aisle again in an effort to cut him off. His eyes were itchy from the lack of sleep.

“I saw that guy follow you outside,” Vander said, moving the few feet necessary to keep up with Silco. “It gave me a bad feeling. Glad I trusted my instincts.” Before Silco could respond, Vander continued on, lost in a ramble that Silco had no chance of interrupting. “I keep thinking about it, y’know? Like what might have happened, and every possibility turns my blood cold. Not that I don’t think you couldn’t defend yourself,” he said with a smile that was full of warm affection Silco didn’t deserve. “You grow up hearing stories that you think can’t possibly be true, but then you’re put in a situation where the outcome is up in the air and you can’t help but feel scared.”

It was strange to hear Vander echo his own thoughts like that. He too had grown up hearing cautionary tales from his elders, but for some reason he had a hard time imagining anyone bothering to instill that kind of vigilance into Vander. He couldn’t imagine Vander ever being the weak one, picked out from the herd as easy prey, hoping desperately that someone would notice and come to the rescue.

“That reminds me,” Silco said, taking advantage of Vander’s pause. “The video you took…”

Vander shifted his bag on his shoulder, looking caught out. “Yeah? What about it?”

“Do you still have it?” Silco forced himself to put away his next book instead of looking at Vander’s earnest expression.

“Oh. Yeah. Why?”

“Delete it.”

“What?” Vander’s brows shot up and he stood to his full height. Silco pushed his cart forward again, towards the next aisle, Vander following along behind like some kind of loyal mutt.

“Delete it. Nothing happened and we agreed that we’d all forget about it, remember?” It was true, but more than anything, Silco wanted to erase the evidence of his humiliation. He’d never be able to forget if he knew the video still existed somewhere.

“I mean, sure, but what if I texted it to you first? I’ll delete it off my phone, I just—just in case, right?” As if having the video would do Silco any good at this point. 

“No. Just delete it. Please, Vander.” The pleading edge in his voice made him want to sink into the ground. Poor little Silco, having to endure all this shame. Maybe the stacks would collapse on them and put Silco out of his misery. Then maybe he could get some rest.

Vander scowled as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his jacket and brought the video up. Goosebumps prickled across Silco’s arms at the tinny sound of the Pilty’s voice on the recording offering to make it worth his while . Vander quickly paused the video because the stacks were a silent area of the library. It was a rule many students ignored until library staff came by, so it was easy to imagine that Vander simply wanted to spare Silco from reliving one of the more mortifying moments of his life. Vander turned the phone for Silco to watch as he brought up the options menu and hit delete. 

“There. All gone,” Vander said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Silco let out a breath and felt like a weight had been removed from his chest. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. 

Now that the last of their business had been concluded, Silco expected Vander to leave, yet he continued to linger, leaning against the shelf behind him and scanning through the books left to shelve on Silco’s cart. He looked comfortable there, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Content to stand in the stacks with Silco, simply existing. This close Silco could smell Vander’s cologne: sandalwood and bergamot, spicy and fragrant, with that warm, earthy note that Silco still couldn’t quite place. All at once, Silco wanted to bury his nose in the scent, to decipher the element that he suspected was uniquely Vander, to let Vander wrap him up in those arms until he finally slept.

“Hey, you ever catch people making out up here?” Vander asked abruptly, drawing Silco from his fantasy. There was a half-smile pulling at Vander’s lips, a tease that had Silco’s exhausted heart pounding against his ribs. Silco had, a few times. Was Vander offering? Was Silco exhausted enough to think “fuck it”? His eyes fell to Vander’s lips briefly before looking away.

No, no he wasn’t. Instead, Silco rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” he asked, too rattled to play their usual game and too tired to care if he was being unreasonably rude. “I’m supposed to be working. Remember?”

“Right, sorry,” Vander said. He pushed off from the shelf with more grace than his large size should allow and adjusted his bag once more. Silco hadn't noticed at first; it was his rugby kit. So it appeared Vander did have somewhere better to be. “Glad you’re okay. See you around, Silco.”

That much was assured, Silco knew. He didn’t offer his own goodbyes, but watched as Vander made his way back down the aisle, waiting until he’d turned the corner before resuming his task. 

+ + +

Vander couldn’t stop thinking about Silco as he pulled on his socks for practice later that afternoon, shoving his feet into his cleats and tying them on autopilot. Despite Silco’s assurances that he was fine, he had looked exhausted when Vander found him in the library, not to mention the unexplained bruises his knuckles had been sporting despite trying to hide them. Vander hadn’t necessarily been paying close attention to Silco’s hands in Piltover, but he felt like he would have noticed if Silco’s knuckles had looked like he’d punched something. He’d seen enough bar brawls growing up that he was more than familiar with how much it took to bruise knuckles like that. So if Silco hadn’t punched the Pilty that had been harassing him, and Vander hadn’t noticed anything physically amiss on their way back to campus, when would Silce have had the opportunity to get in a fight? Not mention the damage seemed to only be on his knuckles—

“Hey! Vander!” Vander flinched at the sudden interruption of his wandering thoughts. “You okay man?” Connol gave Vander a hard pat on the shoulder as he got closer, dumping his bag on the floor and sitting on the bench next to him. Vander stood and shoved his sneakers into his locker, giving him an extra moment to gather himself; Connol’s locker was on the opposite side of the aisle to his own. He felt Connol sit on the bench next to him.

”Hey, Connol. How’s it going?” Vander asked, still distracted. Connol leaned back so that he could see Vander’s face more clearly, a smirk already spreading across his face.

“Somebody’s distracted. I called your name like three times.”

“Oh? Sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess.”

“Yeah? I bet. Did you and Silco have a good time last night?” he asked, bumping Vander’s shoulder with his own and waggling his brows. “Felicia said that she didn’t see him at breakfast, so I assume you guys decided to extend the party.”

At the mention of Silco, Vander’s focus was pulled away from his own swirling thoughts. He shot his friend a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

Connol returned Vander's confused look with one of his own. “Y’know! You guys were getting pretty cozy on the way back last night, or as cozy as you could expect from Silco.”

The more Connol said the more confused Vander felt. “When are you supposed to start making sense?”

Connol let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously? It really seemed like you did something about the weird chemistry between you, and then Sevika said she saw you guys in the stacks like, an hour ago.” When the fuck had Sevika been at the library? Had Vander really been so laser focused on Silco that he hadn’t noticed her?

“I just stopped by to ask how he was doing. It wasn’t anything more than that.”

“C’mon, dude. You two were totally vibing on the way back from Piltover. Tell me you didn’t screw that up! Something must have happened between the two of you.” 

“You don't know anything about what happened in Piltover.” It came out sharper than Vander meant it and Connol recoiled like he'd been slapped.

“Well, yeah, V,” Connol replied, recovering from Vander’s aggressive tone with ease. “Because you won't fucking tell us anything. What are we supposed to think?”

Vander clenched his jaw thinking about Piltover. It would be so easy to explain what had happened, the reason they'd all had to make such a hasty exit. But then Vander thought about the anxious look on Silco's face on the street, the way he'd pleaded with Vander in the library to delete the recording of his altercation with the Pilty. “It's not my place to talk about it,” Vander said. “But it wasn't like that. Isn't like that.”

Connol raised his palms in surrender. “Geeze. Fine. Whatever you say, man.” He seemed to shrug off the conversation, but it was obvious that Connol didn’t believe him.

“Hey, you guys know shit echoes in here, right? What's all this about?” Benzo’s easy disposition usually put Vander at ease, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit caged in when his roommate set his bag down on Vander's other side and opened his locker.

“Vander and Silco,” Connol sighed, shaking his head. “I thought Vander had finally balled up and won Silco over.”

“Silco?” Benzo said, tone incredulous. “You mean that reedy little bookworm who's always hanging around the clubhouse?” He looked at Vander and then scoffed, tugging off his shirt to start changing. “You can do better than that, V.”

“Honestly, hard agree. Get this out of your system and move on. I know he’s one of Felicia’s besties, but dude is so prickly for no reason.” Vander's jaw tightened listening to the disparaging way his friends spoke about Silco. They didn’t even know him. Not that Vander was an expert or anything—that wasn’t the point.

“Seriously, shut the fuck up, the both of you. You don't know what you're talking about.” Benzo let out a low whistle and he and Connol laughed. 

“Okay. Alright. But seriously, man, you need to do something,” Connol continued. “The two of you are unbearable to be around.”

What the hell was Connol talking about? He never saw Vander and Silco together anywhere other than at the clubhouse, and then once at the bar in Piltover, and it wasn’t like he paid attention to anything besides Felicia at the clubhouse—but then again, Connol wasn’t as stupid as he behaved sometimes. He could be oblivious, sure, but he was a smart guy. Maybe he noticed more than he let on and then came to wildly inaccurate conclusions. Plus, he didn’t know what it was like to be around him and Felicia. Talk about unbearable. He loved his friends, and he was glad they’d found happiness together, but sometimes they were a bit much.

He grabbed his sweatband from his locker and pulled it on before closing it with a bang. “Meet you out on the pitch,” he said, shouldering past Benzo roughly.

“What’s his problem?” he heard Benzo ask Connol.

“He needs to get laid,” Connol answered, their voices fading as the locker room door slammed shut behind him.

By the time the rest of the team was out on the field, Vander was already running laps. He ignored Connol and Benzo as they eventually caught up to him, focusing on his breathing, trying to keep his head clear. 

His thoughts kept slipping to Silco, though. He said he was fine after what happened in Piltover, but he’d looked the most disheveled Vander had ever seen him this morning. The dark circles under his eyes and his inexplicably bruised knuckles. And then deleting the video—not even letting Vander give it to him so that he would have evidence just in case. Honestly, he was still reeling from Silco thanking him. After months of Silco’s staunch refusal to say more than five words to him—almost always a dismissal, no less—it was a high like nothing he’d felt before. 

And then after! Had he imagined Silco looking at his mouth in the library when he’d asked if he’d ever caught people making out in the stacks? He’d asked the question mostly as a joke, a kind of college urban legend. But the idea of Silco thinking about them making out in the stacks had Vander’s mouth going dry. 

He shook his head trying to clear the thought, but it wouldn’t go easily. 

Connol hadn’t been entirely wrong that something had shifted with him and Silco after Piltover, but Vander wasn’t exactly sure towards what. He had liked touching Silco. Liked the feeling of the other man against him. Liked that Silco seemed to trust him enough to allow those things to happen. Despite his still chilly response to Vander when they interacted, the fact he never outright told Vander to go away had to mean something, right?

Their coach blew the whistle, calling them in and Vander finally managed to tuck his thoughts away, instead focusing on drills and the upcoming game. There were only a few more games before the end of the season. Vander didn’t think they were going to make it to finals, but it was important to always play like they were. 

— — —

After almost an hour of line out, tackle, ruck and scrum drills, they were finally released, returning to the locker room sweaty, covered in mud and grass stains, and muscles just past the point of comfortably sore. Vander let his head stay blissfully empty, all the thoughts tackled right out of him.

“There’s a party at Nu Nu Theta next Friday. Any takers?” Savika asked as they changed out of their sweaty clothes after practice.

“A frat party? Nah, those are always way too messy,” Benzo said. “Besides, I’ve got a study group on Friday, and the class it’s for is one I need all the help I can get. If I don’t at least pass then my GPA is going to land me on academic probation next semester.”

“Can’t. I’ve got plans with Felicia,” Connol said with a lascivious wagging of his eyebrows. 

Vander rolled his eyes and whipped his towel towards Connol. “Gross.” Connol laughed and scuttled out of reach.

“What about you, Vander?”

Vander shrugged. He couldn’t think of anyone that he would know in Nu Nu Theta, and frat parties weren’t usually his scene. Benzo was right—they tended to be messy. “I don’t know if I’m up for a party with midterms coming up. We’ll see.”

Sevika huffed in annoyance. “Well, I don’t want to go alone,” she said, pulling her pants on.

“Why don’t you ask Silco?” Connol suggested. “You guys are friendly, right?”

Vander’s ears perked up at that, but he kept his face schooled into a carefully neutral expression to avoid his friends picking up on his sudden interest in the conversation. 

“Mm, I could,” Savika said, consideringly. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the bank of lockers. “He doesn’t really like parties, so I doubt he’d say yes.” She slid her eyes to Vander. “Does that sweeten the pot for you at all, Vander? Would you come if Silco might be there?”

Embarrassingly, the answer was yes, but Vander offered an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not like he’d talk to me there, anyway, so I don’t really see what difference it would make.” Sevika’s responding smirk probably meant that he wasn’t succeeding in looking casual about it.

“He doesn’t like parties, but he comes to the post-game after party at the clubhouse week after week,” Connol said, rolling his eyes. “Fel always says that if he didn't really want to come along he wouldn’t, but he sure looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The guy is a walking contradiction.”

“The post-game parties and a frat party are hardly the same thing,” Vander countered, although he couldn’t argue that Silco wasn’t a bit of a puzzle. One that Vander seemed to have a vested interest in solving, apparently.

“Sure,” Connol said, rolling his eyes again.

“I’ll ask him,” Sevika decided. “But Vander, you gotta come either way.”

Vander huffed. “Fine.”

+ + +

After his shift from hell, Silco had gone back to his dorm and forced himself to drink some water before promptly passing out and sleeping through the next twelve hours. It was truly a wonder what taking care of one’s meat suit could accomplish.

Three days after The Excursion, Silco was back at the library, this time to study. His preferred spot was back by the archives, on the third floor. It was already secluded, and one of the heaters rattled, which kept most of the other students away. Silco found he didn’t mind it as background noise to whatever music he was listening to. 

Midterms were rapidly approaching, so the time Silco wasn’t in class was spent in the library studying. He had given up asking Felicia to study with him at this point; if she wasn’t trying to wheedle information from him about what happened in Piltover, then their sessions were interrupted by Connol’s arrival, which meant their momentum was interrupted by idle conversation and nausea-inducing flirting. Silco was trying to be gracious about it, but his patience was wearing dangerously thin. Better to study on his own to begin with.

After a semester of seeming to see Vander everywhere , Silco managed to avoid any additional run-ins with the man. In fact, Vander had been strangely absent. Felicia may have mentioned extra practice, but Silco hadn’t been paying much attention, and Connol certainly seemed to have no shortage of spare time to fawn over her. Even still, Silco wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was finally being given freedom from Vander’s constant presence, and he wasn’t going to waste it by thinking about him.

“Hey, Silco.” He jumped as someone knocked on his table and looked up to find Sevika standing over him. He and the rugby player had a few classes together, and he found that he quite liked her, despite her unfortunate association with Connol and Vander. She was a straight talking, no nonsense woman and shared Silco’s dry sense of humour. More than once now they had shared a joint outside the clubhouse after a game, people watching and judging their peers.

Silco expected her to sit, but when she didn’t he marked the page he was reading and sat back in his chair. “Sevika.”

“I know it’s not really your scene,” she said without preamble, “but there’s a party at Nu Nu Theta on Friday. You should stop by.”

Silco raised an eyebrow. Someone like Vander would fluster at that type of non-response, but Sevika just raised her brows right back at him. He scowled and flinched first, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on the table. “Why?” he couldn’t help asking. Sevika clearly knew he wasn’t into parties, so he wasn’t sure why she was making a point of extending an invitation. 

She shrugged a shoulder casually. “Because I don’t want to go alone. I asked a bunch of the team but they all said no.”

Silco snorted, but he couldn’t hide the bitter hurt in his voice when he replied. “Oh, so I’m your last resort, am I?” He leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together and resting them on his stomach, watching her.

Sevika ran her tongue along her teeth, her upper lip bulging. “I know it sounds bad, but I knew you wouldn’t want to go–”

“So why are you even bothering to ask me?” he snapped.

She let out a sharp breath through her nose and stooped over the table, allowing her to keep her voice down. “Because you spend too much time studying, man. Every time I text you, you’re studying, but at this point, I’m not sure how much you’re bullshitting me.”

What was it with the people in his life being so judgmental of his academic pursuits? “I think I spend a perfectly acceptable amount of time studying, thank you,” he replied evenly. The lesson here was that he should stop responding to Sevika when she texted him at three in the morning. He didn’t always study to pass the time when he wanted to be asleep. He had hobbies. He tapped his middle finger against the back of his other hand. 

Sevika finally pulled out the chair across from him, turning it and sitting in it backwards. “You’re so isolated, Silco,” she said. “College is about more than just studying, you know.” He sneered; Felicia had said a similar thing when she begged him to go to Piltover and look how that turned out. 

“While I appreciate you thinking about me, I don’t think I’ll come.” He didn’t understand why saying that caused her to frown like she was actually disappointed.

“Just consider it,” Sevika insisted.

“Consider it considered.” Silco’s tone was firm. He didn’t want to get into an argument about it, but he also didn’t want to get strong armed into doing something he didn’t want to do again. When the universe taught him a lesson, he generally listened.

Sevika sighed, watching Silco from behind her curtain of dark hair. Her eyes were probing and Silco suddenly felt like a bug pinned, about to be dissected. After a moment she stood, spinning the chair and tucking it back beneath the table. “Consider it,” she said again, as she turned to leave. “See you around, Silco.”

Silco scowled and opened his book again. The fact that she came to him as a last resort stung more than Silco would have liked to admit. She was right that he would have said he wasn’t interested, but knowing that she’d already exhausted all her other options hurt. They weren’t exactly friends , but it would be nice to be treated as something other than an afterthought. 

Why now? What was it about this party? Nu Nu Theta didn’t have the worst reputation, but he felt wary all the same. He couldn’t help but think there was some other motive behind it. That if he went to this party, something would happen. Like someone was planning a prank specifically for him. 

Was it paranoid? Probably. But he wasn’t eager to invite trouble into his life again so soon.

It bothered him enough that after another half an hour of distracted studying he closed his books with a frustrated sigh. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? He packed up his things and started outside, checking the nearest window. It was still a reasonable hour of the evening, the sky going pink-ish with the first whispers of twilight. Maybe he could catch a bus into town and find somewhere to study where his school friends wouldn’t be likely to interrupt him. Maybe stop by the record shop and see if they had the new Chem Sisters album yet.

He was still developing his plan for his excursion into town when he caught sight of Vander through one of the study room windows. He was with Benzo and a couple girls Silco didn’t recognise. After not seeing Vander in days, it felt right that their paths finally crossed again. Vander looked unfairly good with his hair swept back and wearing an oversized hoodie. Without his permission, his mind conjured the memory of how Vander’s arm had felt around his shoulders, the genuine concern for Silco that filled his blue-grey eyes.

Since when did he know the color of Vander’s eyes?  

He shoved his hand in his pocket for his cigarettes, shaking one out of the pack. He was lighting it as he shouldered his way through the door, sucking in smoke and fresh air as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Maybe he would go to the party after all. It would do him some good to find some random tumble and vent the pent up energy simmering beneath his skin.

Chapter Text

Despite his insistence to Sevika that he would not be attending the Nu Nu Theta party, Silco found himself approaching the frat house with growing trepidation when Friday evening descended. The party was already in full swing. He could hear the music from two blocks away and getting closer only made it worse. There were people everywhere, students spilling out onto the front lawn in various states of inebriation, and the bass was already thumping under Silco’s shoes. 

He made his way towards the door, already regretting his decision to come. He didn’t see anyone that he recognized as he squeezed his way through the crush of bodies just to get inside the house. That in itself wasn’t particularly unexpected, but a man was allowed to hope. The music was blaring so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. The bass was even worse inside, making his ribs feel like they were vibrating in his chest. 

There were so many people jammed inside the house, Silco wasn’t sure he’d ever find Sevika, if she was there at all. If he’d thought this through, he would have texted her, but he didn’t really feel like dealing with her smugness over text. Better to just show up and hope that she was crossfaded enough that she skipped smug and went straight to being happy to see him.

The Nu Nu Theta house was just about what one could expect from a frat house—an actual old home converted into a living space for a couple dozen guys. The foyer led to a large staircase, also somehow jammed with people. The music was blasting from a room towards the front of the house, so Silco headed in the opposite direction, sticking close to the walls to avoid the worst of the crowd. He found his way to the drink table in the generously sized kitchen and looked over his options. A keg sat in a bucket of ice and a myriad of bottles—mostly cheap vodka, rum and whisky, in various states of consumption—were scattered next to a stack of plastic cups. There was a punch bowl that had some dubious looking purple concoction that Silco resolved to avoid. No one was manning the table, so who knew what might be in it. 

Obviously, the only course forward was going to be getting as fucked up as humanly possible while still remember most of the night tomorrow morning. Fortunately, he’d been continuing his streak of poor choices and hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He poured himself a shot of rum and knocked it back quickly, using the resulting burn down his throat to focus on something other than the writhing crowd and thundering bass. The focus was short lived, so he immediately poured another shot. Someone to his right whooped, interrupting him before he could throw back the second shot. It went down even more roughly than the first, and suddenly getting inhumanly drunk as quickly as possible was no longer appealing. He poured a generous helping into one of the supplied cups and filled the rest with ice and a nearby can of soda without looking at the label before he headed back into the fray, eyes scanning over those in attendance for any familiar faces. 

There were people he vaguely recognized from his classes or the library, but no one he knew well enough to speak to. 

Just when he was considering cutting his losses, a familiar voice called his name as the songs transitioned. He spun in time to see Sevika shouldering her way towards him from across the room.

“You came!” Sevika said, slinging an arm around Silco’s shoulders. He winced as her arm pulled at his hair, which he had worn down for the occasion. He had some regrets on that front. It was evident she’d already had a few drinks, breath heavy with alcohol, her usual scowl absent and her demeanor significantly relaxed. A joint that Silco hadn’t noticed appeared in her other hand, which she extended, offering it for Silco to take.

“Against my better judgement,” he answered, taking the joint from her and bringing it to his lips. He let the smoke fill him, holding it in for an extra second before turning his head away from Sevika to exhale. He quickly took another hit, ashing the joint before he could reconsider it; there had to be an ashtray around somewhere, though the floors were already sticky enough that Silco didn’t truly think anyone would notice the next morning. 

“At least you aren’t rotting away in your dorm,” she replied with a grin, giving his shoulder a well-meaning shake. 

Silco resented the idea that staying in his dorm room was “rotting away” but he kept his thoughts to himself, handing the joint back to Sevika. She took a hit of her own, much bigger than either of Silco’s, and wasn’t so careful about not blowing smoke in Silco’s face. “Vander’s here,” she said, smoke still billowing out of her mouth, making her smile seem almost sinister. 

It took a second for him to figure out what she said exactly over the music and the slight haze of marijuana that was beginning to cloud over his senses, but when he put it together, the words felt like a punch to the solar plexus. Silco had expressly come to this party to get away from Vander, to get himself some strange and fuck out the restless energy that had been trapped under his skin for the past week. What happened to the rugby team turning down Sevika’s invitation? He tried to keep his demeanor relaxed, because there was no reason Vander being here should be an issue, right? Right. Exactly. It was fine.

“Good for him,” Silco said weakly. He scanned the room again, this time looking for one face in particular. 

Was this a set up? Had Sevika invited him here specifically to force him and Vander together? What had Silco done in a past life to deserve this? Did he give off some kind of desperate, specific kind of horny vibe somehow? Like he wanted some six foot too-many-inches meathead to break him in half?

“What’s the deal with the two of you?” she asked, arm still heavy around Silco’s shoulders. It was a different heaviness than he remembered Vander’s being, weighed down with alcohol and weed. 

He shrugged. “There’s no deal.”

Sevika rolled her eyes and offered the joint again. “Anyone with two eyes can see there’s something going on between the two of you.” Why were people looking for something?

Silco rolled his eyes right back at her, taking his sweet time inhaling to make sure that his voice was steady when he said, “He just thinks we should be friends because we have the same mutual friend.”

“Felicia,” Sevika offered. 

Silco coughed a bit and relinquished the joint once more. “Yeah, Felicia. Apparently Vander’s never grown out of the mindset that all his friends need to be besties with each other.”

“And what, you don’t want to be Vander’s friend? He’s a good guy.” 

Silco slipped from beneath Sevika’s arm at that and peered up at her. “Alright, what’s going on?”

Sevika’s brows knit together briefly. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean ,” Silco said, “you invite me to this party out of the blue, even when you know it’s not my kind of thing. Then, you tell me Vander’s here the moment you see me. And then you start talking him up like you’re his wingman or something. What are you doing?” Silco was aware of how paranoid he sounded, but he wasn’t about to walk straight into a fucking trap.

“I’m not doing anything,” Sevika said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “I stated a fact and then I asked you a related question because I’ve seen the two of you together and I’m curious.” Curious about what?

“Does Vander know I’m here?”

Sevika snorted. “No.”

The weed was making it hard to think clearly, but Silco had to admit that she was probably telling the truth. Fine, she’d only just found Silco herself after all. “Did he know that I might be coming?”

“What’s with the interrogation?” Sevika asked, taking another drag from the joint, blowing the fragrant smoke into Silco’s face when she exhaled. He noted the way she sidestepped the question and felt all-the-more sure that something was up.

Silco pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache forming. Next time he would learn his lesson. “I’m just trying to figure out if this is some kind of set up. Everyone else seems so fucking interested in what, if anything—which is nothing, by the way—is going on between me and Vander. Why can’t people just stay out of our business?” Silco ran his fingers through his hair, raking it back and tying it into its usual low bun. “Fuck, I need a cigarette.”

“The way your mind works is wild,” Sevika said with a chuckle. She offered him the joint again, but Silco brushed her hand away. He already felt paranoid enough, and his head was uncomfortably fuzzy. Smoking more pot wasn’t going to change that. What he needed was the familiar mechanics of smoking his own cigarettes. And despite how brief a time he’d been at the party, he needed some fresh air.

“I’m going outside,” he announced, pushing past Sevika. She stepped aside and held her hands up in surrender. He fished his cigarettes from his pocket as he went. 

Just putting a wall between himself and the music helped Silco think more clearly. He grabbed a cigarette as he descended the front porch steps, no longer caring that he was being that dick shoving his way through the crowd. The more distance between him and the music, the better. The soothing familiarity of smoking his own cigarettes felt good, soothing some of the paranoid itch. Soon enough, the nicotine would hit his system and help to settle his anxious mind. 

Sevika could say whatever the fuck she wanted about him rotting away in his dorm, but at least there he didn’t feel like he was playing mental gymnastics in quicksand.

Without a destination in mind, he quickly made his way through the yard, unconsciously veering back in the direction of his dorm building. When he realised where he was headed, he slowed his pace, unsure if what he really wanted was to leave. He’d come to the party to hook up, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t stick around for a bit. At the same time, the idea of finding someone when his head was suddenly so full of Vander wasn’t particularly appealing.

He was being cockblocked by Vander and the other man had no idea .

If he left now, though, he could pretend that he’d never shown up in the first place. Sevika might not even remember him—or his paranoia. The further he made it from the front door the more he was sure that it was a good plan.

He went around the side of the house with the intention of cutting through the backyard. That was until he reached the darkest area in the side yard, where none of the exterior lights penetrated, and stumbled across a couple tucked away in a nearby alcove. In the dark it was hard to see, but as his eyes adjusted, he was able to discern that it was two men. For a second he was simply caught off guard, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. But then he recognised one of the men’s broad shoulders, the bulge of a henley around a bicep that was unmistakably Vander’s. Once he realized just what— who —he was seeing, he was rooted to the spot, breath caught in his throat. 

Vander was pressing the other man against the side of the house, practically holding the other man up against the siding. One of his thick thighs was tucked between the other man’s legs, their hips slowly grinding together as they kissed. Vander had his companion’s narrow face cupped in one of his large hands as he licked into his mouth, and the other man had the fingers of one hand buried in Vander’s hair, his other hand shoved up beneath the back of Vander’s shirt, fingers digging into the muscle there. Silco couldn’t hear them over the pounding music, but his imagination was creative enough that he didn’t feel like he was missing anything. His mouth went dry as he watched Vander wrap his hand around his partner’s slim thigh and lift him higher, as if seeking a better angle to grind against him.

Silco shivered as he tore his attention away from Vander to his paramour. He didn’t recognize who Vander was kissing, but he couldn’t help but notice a striking number of similarities to himself. Vander’s companion was slim, although maybe not quite as weedy as Silco, and they were probably about the same height. Even still, the stranger seemed small pressed up against Vander’s body. Would Vander tower over Silco like that? Silco wasn’t a short man, a couple inches taller than the average, especially when he stood straight, but Vander was almost a mountain of a man, standing well above six feet. He was just on the right side of bulky, his stature and musculature making him the perfect type of player for the back line. 

It appeared that Vander’s type was much more similar to Silco than he’d led Silco to believe. Or maybe Silco was projecting because he suddenly wanted to be in the place his not-quite doppelganger was at that very moment. 

The cigarette he’d come outside to smoke hung forgotten between his fingers as he stared. His heart was hammering against his ribcage, loud enough in his own ears that he was sure it could be heard above the booming bass inside. Vander’s partner— companion— scratched his fingers up Vander’s back, rucking the shirt farther up, exposing skin that seemed to glow in the low light, shadows casting the shifting muscle in stark relief. Silco’s mouth was bone dry as he stood there, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He blamed the weed as he tried to swallow, but he had to admit that the cause might not be a singular source.

He should go. Give Vander and his companion their privacy. Didn’t want to get caught watching like some kind of pervert. But couldn’t make himself move.

In the end, it was his phone buzzing in his pocket and the unexpected heat of his cigarette as it singed his fingers, now burned down to the filter, that broke the spell on him. He lurched forward, tripping over his feet in his hurry to leave Vander’s sordid tableau behind. He caught himself on the back fence and tumbled over it, disoriented from the weed. He scrambled to get up and run home, barely catching when someone laughed, possibly at him, possibly at something else altogether. 

When he got back to his dorm he kicked off his shoes, falling into bed fully clothed. His face felt hot and his skin prickled all over. He pressed his face into the cool pillow, taking slow, even breaths willing his racing heart to slow. Stupid Vander. Stupid Sevika. Stupid, idiotic, foolish Silco. He’d known going to the party was a bad idea. He’d fucking known he would regret it. And now where was he?

Arguably more sexually frustrated with no one to help relieve it. 

He could text Marcus, but then…Well, Marcus wasn’t good enough in bed for Silco to be able to stand him at the best of times, nevermind when he was still crossfaded and angry at everything. And Silco was already too keyed up to wait around for mediocre sex. Besides, Marcus was definitely not going to be able to scratch this particular itch. He didn’t have hands big enough to completely wrap around one of Silco’s thighs, wasn’t strong enough to lift him, press him against a wall, and have his way with Silco. Just the thought of Vander doing any of that had Silco’s hips rocking forward into his mattress. He hissed at the friction it caused against his cock, already so hard just from thinking about Vander’s big shoulders making him feel small. His big bear-paw hands holding Silco down and making him take whatever Vander was willing to give him.

“Fuck.” Silco pressed his cheek into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut in a poor attempt to better remember the look of bliss on his look-a-like’s face. Silco couldn’t remember the last time he had been so wrapped up in a partner, completely thoughtless and unaware of his surroundings. Holy shit, how Silco wished he could feel like that. 

His body burned as he thrust against his mattress, fully caught up in his own fantasy. He knew what Vander’s arm felt like across his shoulders, how his broad, barrel chest supported him on the trolley, what the heat of his body felt like pressed up against him, but he longed for more. He wanted to feel those large hands hold his jaw, his teeth against his throat, leaving a hickey in the same spot Marcus had all those weeks ago. He tried to pretend that his hands belonged to someone else as he worked desperately at his jeans, all but tearing them open in a mad rush to get his cock free. 

But here, Silco couldn’t pretend. His hands were narrow; long, knobby fingers with writing calluses where Vander’s were probably rough from long practices on the pitch. There was no way for him to forget that he was alone when he wrapped his fingers around himself and started working his shaft in earnest. He was already wet with precum, just from seeing Vander making out with someone, from imagining it had been him. Pathetic. He was rocketing his way towards the edge, furiously stroking himself until his body seized and he came, muffling any sound he might have made into his pillow.

When he came back to himself, he groaned quietly at the sticky, wet spot on the bed beneath him. “Well done, Silco,” he muttered, pushing himself up and forcing himself to go through the motions of cleaning himself and tossing his bedsheet in his hamper. By the time he was finished with that and had changed into his sleep clothes, he had no interest in putting a new sheet on the bed. He knew it would only take an extra minute, but he just couldn’t gather any fucks to give. He pressed himself close to the wall, avoiding any remaining wet spot, and was asleep in seconds, for once.

+++

Midterm season was particularly brutal for Zaun U’s student athletes; between grueling game and practice schedules, classes, and sleep, Vander barely had time to think, much less do anything fun. Even the post-game clubhouse parties had become smaller, most of his peers choosing to spend the extra time studying or catching up on their rest while they could. One such noticeable absence from the clubhouse was Silco. 

Vander hadn’t seen Silco socially since the bar incident, save for the morning after when he’d stopped by the library to check in on him. It felt strange not seeing him all the time; Vander had finally started to get used to his near constant presence since that first rugby match. If he was being honest, he missed him, even if he only ever saw him in passing. Just those brief moments had been enough for Vander to confirm that Felicia’s friend was okay.

Not that he had any reason to care. 

Lately, the only time he saw Silco was in their sociology lecture. It was one of the larger classes on campus, the auditorium easily holding one hundred and fifty students. Large enough that Vander was certain Silco didn’t even realise they had the class together. Vander had spotted him after the first rugby game sitting in the third row—close enough to the front to avoid most distractions, but not quite gunning for teacher’s pet status like the kids that sat in the first row. Meanwhile, Vander sat as close to the back as he could. 

His seating choice wasn’t entirely dependent on Silco’s. Vander preferred the back mostly because if he dozed off in class the professor wasn’t likely to notice. Their professor was one of the types that uploaded videos of her lectures on the student portal, so Vander didn’t really feel the desperate need to pay super close attention at all times. With the back rows of seating having their own appeal already, and given that Silco was so hostile to Vander at the clubhouse, Vander hadn’t seen a point in going out of his way to try his luck with Silco elsewhere.

Even still, his gaze was often drawn to the other student’s dark hair in class, and today was no different. He didn’t have the best view in class, but even with the significant distance between them, something about the way that Silco had been hunched forward over his little desk had alarm bells ringing in Vander’s mind. He was tired, too, especially after the frat party Sevika had dragged him to over the weekend, but there was something about the way Silco was propping his head on his hand, like he was holding himself up, that made Vander’s stomach drop.

”Alright, midterms are coming up, and finals will be here before you know it. No doubt you have heard rumors about my final project of the semester from upper classmen or friends who took this class last year,” the professor said, voice ringing through the auditorium. Vander groaned with the majority of the class, not that their professor seemed to care. She nodded, gesturing for them to continue. “That’s right, get it out of your system now.” She used a small remote to click through to the next slide of her presentation.

“In place of a final exam, you’ll be assigned a partner to write a research paper that examines various methodologies for addressing sociological challenges prevalent in contemporary society. I’ve uploaded a document on your student portal that covers the assignment in detail, so go ahead and open that up.” 

Vander slid down in his chair and opened the document. Doing a research paper was going to be a pain in the ass already, but working with a partner? Not many people were going to be sympathetic about his rugby schedule, unless they were also student athletes, or in one of the many other extracurriculars Zaun U offered.

He cast a quick glance around the room and wondered how lucky he’d be to be assigned to someone who fell into that very narrow criteria.

Vander opened his calendar, reviewing his practice and game schedules compared to how long they had to work on this paper. He wasn’t confident that they were going to make it to the finals this year, but he didn’t want to be a defeatist about it. The rugby finals would happen right around the semester’s academic finals. If the Trenchers made it that far, Vander would barely have time to prepare for his final exams, much less hold up his end of this project. 

He ended up tuning out the professor’s review of the project, instead trying to figure out how he could possibly make this schedule work, carving time out of his calendar to dedicate to the project ahead of time. There was a saying about best laid plans, but at least he felt like he was doing something, instead of just worrying about the problem.

”So, that’s the project. I hope that you all can see that the rumors you’ve heard about this assignment are over exaggerated.” Vander snorted; they absolutely were not over exaggerated. A twelve page paper was bad enough, but a group project was cruel. “Now, this slide has your partner assignments. And before anyone asks: no, you may not switch partners, no , you may not work on your own, yes, this will deeply affect your final grade, and yes, I do enjoy looking at your disappointed faces. If you have any other questions, email me.”

Vander sighed and leaned forward, squinting for his name.

Jakki Brewer and Jeremiah Mindottir. No. No. Lennie Fletcher and Movod Shackleton . No. There. Vander Oreson and Silco Leach .

Vander Oreson and…

Vander grimaced, eyes immediately searching for Silco in the third row back. Silco, who was looking at the names, searching for his own. He saw the moment when Silco found it, the way his shoulders shot up to his ears and he looked around, no doubt searching for Vander in the auditorium. Vander jerked back, slumping down into his chair again. It wasn’t that he was hiding from Silco, but.

He was absolutely hiding from Silco. 

Silco froze when his eyes eventually settled on Vander. He sat staring up across the auditorium where Vander was sitting for almost a full minute. While Vander couldn’t see the exact look on Silco’s face, he could tell he wasn’t smiling. Eventually Silco’s posture relaxed and he turned back towards the front and began to pack his things.

Time to face the music, Vander thought as he gathered his own things, dumping them unceremoniously into his bag and jogging down the steps towards where Silco was just beginning to stand.

”Silco, hey,” Vander said, grabbing the straps of his backpack for moral support. Silco flinched, glaring up at Vander.

”How the fuck are you even here? ” he hissed, zipping his bag shut. Vander felt himself flush hot at the accusatory tone.

”I’ve been in this class all semester, Silco. It’s not my fault that you didn’t notice.” He wished that he didn’t sound so disappointed by that. It was a big class, after all, and they weren’t friends, a fact Silco had repeatedly made clear. 

“No, you’re right,” Silco snapped. “I should have expected this. You’re everywhere else, why not here too?” Vander had to step back to keep Silco from shoving him as he made his way towards the auditorium doors. “I’m not about to do this entire project alone, Vander. I might not be an all-star scrummer or whatever position you play, but I have my own shit going on.” 

Vander felt his temper flare. “Hey, I know you think I’m just some meathead jock, alright, but I’m not a fucking simpleton.” He reached out and grabbed Silco’s bicep, stopping Silco in his tracks. He could feel just how rigid Silco went under his grip, but he didn’t shrug off Vander’s hand, rather turning to glare at Vander, jaw set. “I’m more than capable of pulling my own weight on this assignment.”

The auditorium was still full of students who were talking with their own assigned partners, and Vander was keenly aware of the way people were watching them argue, but Silco started this conversation in attack mode. If he wanted to have it out in public, Vander was happy to let him.

Silco scoffed and sneered up at Vander, his bangs sweeping to cover part of his face. “I’m sure whatever you contribute I’ll have to work just as hard to bring it up to my standards.”

“You know what?” Vander said, letting go of Silco’s arm. He felt a sick sense of satisfaction at the way Silco stumbled back a few steps. “Fuck you.” He was finally at his limit. “It’s easy for you to act so high and mighty because you don’t know a damn thing about me, but don’t stand there and act like that’s my fault. I’ve tried to get to know you. Hell, I asked you about classes, your major, anything. If you’d answered a single question over the last three months maybe you’d have known we were in this class together and wouldn’t feel so blindsided.”

Silco’s jaw worked and he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Fine,” he said tightly. “I suppose I can give you the opportunity to prove me wrong about something.”

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong about a lot of things,” Vander replied, anger still buzzing beneath the surface. How did this man manage to make him feel so angry, so wild? 

Silco sighed, running his long fingers through his hair as the fight appeared to drain out of him. Good. “Are you free now, then? We can go to the library and figure out what we want to do. Divvy up the work.” 

“I can meet you there in, say, fifteen minutes?” It would make more sense for them to go together since they were both there, but Vander needed a minute to calm down the angry fluttering in his stomach before he would be able to contribute to their assignment. Silco raised a brow, but didn’t comment on the obvious delay tactic. 

“Fine,” Silco agreed. “There’s a table on the second floor in the stacks near the heaters.”

“Sure, good.”

Silco adjusted his bag on his shoulder and continued towards the exit. 

Vander could feel eyes on him as he stood there following Silco’s departure, could hear whispers that he tried to ignore. More fuel for the rumor mill that something was going on between the two of them. Trouble in paradise.

Taking a deep breath, he counted backward from ten before letting it out slowly. Even that simple exercise helped to calm him significantly, but he had every intention of using all fifteen minutes to get his head on straight. He headed for the nearest bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face.

The worst thing about the way Silco so easily got under his skin is that it made Vander want to grab his stupid, pointy face and kiss him stupid rather than do the reasonable thing and punch him. He’d already tried to work out his increasingly complicated feelings about Silco with a poor facsimile, but all it had really accomplished was increase his need for the real thing.

Ever since the Piltover incident, Vander couldn’t help but wonder what else was hidden behind Silco’s well constructed walls. There was no reason for him to feel so drawn to the other man, but here he was, trying to calm his racing heart and feeling like Boo Boo the Fool.

+++

Silco lit a cigarette as he walked towards the library, desperate for the nicotine to soothe his frazzled nerves and calm his shaking hands. The universe really was conspiring against him. He didn’t believe in fate, but the consistent way that Vander kept popping up was beyond what could reasonably be considered a coincidence. Any attempt at trying to create some distance between them only seemed to work at forcing them more closely together. Most recently it was seeing Vander at that stupid party, which he’d only attended with the sole goal of getting Vander off his mind, now finding out that Vander had been in this class the whole time and he didn’t know? 

In the week since the party at Nu Nu Theta, Silco hadn’t been able to get the image of Vander’s large hands cupping that other man’s narrow jaw out of his head. He hated how badly he wanted it. Hated how badly Vander had infected his brain. 

And now, the cherry on top of this rotten sundae: they were paired together on an assignment that would affect their final grade.

While Vander might have been right in saying that if Silco had answered any of his stupid questions he might have learned about their shared class earlier, that didn’t change the fact that Silco was certain he would be carrying this assignment on his own. If Vander was anything like Connol, nice enough but by no means a dedicated student, Silco was fucked. He would just have to plan to write the damn thing himself, but the thought of Vander skating by on Silco’s coattails made him want to punch something.

He reached the library in record time, no closer to feeling calm and collected enough to review an assignment and figure out how to equally distribute the work between them. He finished his cigarette with a hard inhale, crushing the butt against the small outdoor ashtray by the front entrance to the library and going inside. He was distracted enough that he nearly ran into someone on their way out.

”Shit, sorry—“ he started, barely avoiding knocking books out of the other student’s hands. “Oh, Felicia. Hey.”

“Hey, Silco,” she said, offering him a tired smile, shifting her load. She had a stack of books in her arms and looked just as harried as everyone on campus these days. Her violet hair hung loose in a curtain across her face. 

Silco reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, and scanned the books in her arms. “Quite the haul you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, midterms, am I right? You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” he replied. He longed for his problems to just be about midterms. “If that wasn’t bad enough, I just got my final assignment for my sociology lecture.” Felicia hissed in sympathy; she’d taken the class last semester. “You’ll never guess who I got paired with.”

“Vander?” Felicia guessed immediately. Silco scowled, hot betrayal flooding his face.

“You knew he was in that class?”

Felicia rolled her eyes at him. “Of course. He's my friend, remember? How did you not know?”

“It’s a big class!” Silco said, crossing his arms defensively in front of himself. Felicia smirked. Why was he friends with her again?

“Yeah, well, he’s a big guy.” Oh, Silco knew just how big Vander was, how his back looked when someone else was trying to undress him in the side yard of a frat house. “What’s your problem with him, anyway?” she asked helping to rein in his wandering thoughts. “He’s been trying to get to know you all semester and you’ve just been stone walling him. He’s a nice guy.” Not her, too.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Like it’s reason enough for me to want to be friends with him? I’m not interested in being his friend.” He was far past growing tired of repeating himself.

Felicia did her best approximation of surrendering while her arms were full. “Ok, fine. No one is saying you have to be his friend. But you can at least be friend- ly . I know you’re capable of at least that much.”

Silco rolled his eyes, to cover the sinking feeling that she was right. Vander had been making an effort because of their shared friend. But he was just so stubborn! Why did Silco have to play nice just because Vander couldn’t take no for an answer? “ Fine . I’m meeting him to talk about our assignment, so I’ll try and play nice.”

Felicia beamed at him. “Good! Maybe you’ll realize that you actually like him . Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go now because I think my arms are going to fall off from the weight of all this. Say hi to Vander for me.”

He held the door for her as she passed and then made his way upstairs to the stacks to the table where he said he’d meet Vander. He made sure to take his preferred seat, setting up his laptop and sending the assignment outline to print. Printed version in hand, he set about making notes in the margin, jotting down ideas for what they could research.

It was only a few minutes before Vander made his appearance, taking the seat opposite Silco and quickly pulling out his computer and notebook. Silco made sure to keep his eyes on his notes and not how big Vander’s hands were up close. He likewise didn't notice the way he looked at Silco, sending a shiver through him. How long was he prepared to wait? Was he waiting for Silco to take the lead? 

Fine then. 

“Do you have any ideas about what topic you think we should cover?” Silco had already scribbled a few ideas down on his paper, not that Vander would be able to read them upside down from across the table. Their professor had included a list of potential topics, but they were vague and clearly there for inspiration. Silco didn’t know what kind of grades Vander had so far for the class, but he wasn’t expecting much.

Vander thought for a moment, his blue-grey eyes tracking over his laptop screen as he scanned the assignment again. “It’s just a rough idea, but I was thinking about something related to child equity outcomes. Early child education, free lunch programs, that kind of thing.”

Silco’s brows went up as he failed to hide his surprise at the suggestion. Only the wealthiest Zaunites were strangers to the welfare system. His grandmother wouldn’t have been able to raise him if not for food vouchers, never mind the opportunity to go to Zaun U. Most people preferred to not think about the help they received from the government, while some flat out villainized those who had no other options. The fact that Vander was even thinking about writing their paper on them…He tried to school his expression, clearing his throat. “That’s a great idea,” he said. 

“Yeah?” Vander seemed surprised at Silco’s easy agreement.

“Well, it’s a start.” Silco made a note on his assignment sheet,  scribbling a star next to “welfare programs”. He could feel Vander watching him, could imagine the small, satisfied smirk playing around his mouth. “So how should we break up the work on this?”

Vander grimaced and spun his laptop to show Silco a very full looking calendar. They spent half an hour going through the assignment and agreeing on which parts they would each take. “It’ll be a challenge for me, but I promise I won’t let you down.” He looked so earnest as he said it, like he really believed that. After discussing their game plan, Silco thought it would be nice to believe it, too.

“We should exchange numbers just so I can let you know if I’m running late or something.”

Silco hesitated. Something about Vander having his number, being available to the other man, made his stomach flip. Not that he expected Vander to abuse the privilege. Even still, it felt like another way that Vander was finding a way past his walls. But for the sake of their assignment, it made sense. “Okay,” Silco agreed.

Vander handed his phone across the table to Silco who entered his number. A moment later his phone buzzed with a text from Vander, and he added the number to his own contacts. Something about seeing Vander’s name in his phone made his stomach twist, but he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Or maybe it was just a guilty conscience, as if Vander having his number meant that he would discover just how much he’d been on Silco’s mind lately.

This was such a mess.

“So, meet again in two weeks?” Vander asked, gathering his laptop and notebook. Silco was slower to collect his things, still feeling bowled over by how thoroughly his preconceived ideas about Vander had been shattered in such a short time. He was usually a good judge of character, but his gut instinct about someone had never been so far off before. What was it about Vander that threw him so much? “Silco?”

”Hm? Oh—yes. Two weeks.” Vander stood next to his chair for an extra second, looking like he wanted to say something else, so Silco kept his eyes firmly on his paper and thought go away as strongly as he could manage. Finally, finally , Vander walked away from the table with a huff and Silco was able to press his face into his hands. 

Two weeks was plenty of time to get over himself, right?

Chapter Text

The next two weeks were a special kind of hell for Silco. Even while he was busy with classes, working on other assignments coming due, or doing research for his part of their project, his upcoming meeting with Vander was never far from his thoughts. As much as he didn’t want to be so pessimistic, he was anticipating having to carry the weight of their assignment. 

To make matters worse, as if he didn’t see Vander enough around campus during the day, he’d started having dreams about him. It felt like every time he closed his eyes his mind conjured visions of Vander, those big bands grabbing at his thighs, holding him against the nearest vertical surface, and kissing him like he’d kissed that other student at the party. Silco could still recall the comfortable weight of Vander’s arm around him during that trolley ride. He imagined Vander holding him close while he shook apart, whispering nonsense into his ear until he stopped shivering with aftershocks. 

He’d only woken up from a nap in the library with a semi once, but that was more than enough. It was becoming a problem. 

Winter break couldn’t come soon enough. He wasn’t going home like so many of his peers; he was one of just a few to stay on campus, which meant he would have some peace and quiet. No classes, no dorm neighbors, no seeing Vander everywhere. Once classes were over, he would finally have an opportunity to work out all his pent up sexual energy. It was that, or something had to give. He wasn’t sure what, but it felt like every day the thread of his resolve frayed thinner and thinner. He wasn’t sure what he would do when (and with the way things were going, it was definitely a matter of when ) it eventually snapped. 

So needless to say, the idea of spending dedicated time alone with Vander, even somewhere as public as the library, was giving him heart palpitations.

He told himself that his sudden heart fluttering was due to the fact that he was barely sleeping, just to stay sane about it. It wasn’t even so far-fetched given his penchant for late nights spent hunched over his textbooks as he studied, catching handfuls of fitful sleep, and surviving on a steady stream of strong coffee and cigarettes. Silco had always been a night owl, but something about the encroaching end of semester and the looming meeting with Vander made him sure that, if he put off sleeping long enough, then time would go slower and he’d have more time to prepare for the inevitable. 

Unfortunately, his logic seemed to work against him, time instead moving inconsistently, with long moments of class that dragged followed by nights passing in a blink. 

In spite of his best efforts to stop time by simply refusing to sleep, the day of their meeting arrived. Silco was a ball of restless energy. He couldn’t focus on anything, floundering in his Introduction to Ethics class as he realised that he hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t know the answer to a question his professor asked . After so many days running himself ragged, he barely knew what class he was in, floating from room to room like an untethered balloon, hoping he eventually reached the correct destination. The second time he was caught unprepared, Silco sunk into his seat, face hot with embarrassment. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before and he didn’t understand why it was happening now. 

Except he did understand, he just wasn’t willing to accept that Vander was having this significant of an impact on his mental state. 

“What is wrong with you?” Felicia asked over lunch as Silco emptied a mountain of sugar packets into the largest coffee the cafeteria served. Maybe it would be worth it to get one of those big fuck-off tumblers, then he could carry around forty ounces of coffee with him at all times. Maybe then he could defeat sleep.

“What do you mean?” Silco asked, raising the cup to his lips to take a sip of his drink. For the briefest second, he felt at peace in his skin again, free of the jitters from too much caffeine and not enough sleep. Then, the feeling was gone and Silco was left feeling like he could hear his blood flowing through his veins. It was wholly unpleasant.

“Well, you didn’t grab any actual food, and you look like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin. How many cups of coffee have you had today?” Huh, Silco hadn’t noticed the food thing, but now that she mentioned it, he was hungry. He’d been completely focused on mainlining coffee into his bloodstream.

Silco did some quick math on his fingers. “I think this is number six?” It was hard to keep track ever since the days started to blur together a bit.

“Again, I ask: what is wrong with you? Are you even sleeping?” She passed him her portion of whatever they were serving in the dining hall, something with noodles, instead grabbing a protein bar out of her bag.

The dark circles under Silco’s eyes spoke volumes to his lack of sleep, and they both knew it. He shrugged off Felicia’s concern as he started in on the noodles. “Just midterms. You know what it’s like.” Holy shit, food was amazing. Had food always been this amazing?

She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him for a moment, but let him eat his stolen lunch for all of five seconds before blindsiding him with, “How’s the project going with Vander?” 

Silco choked on his next bite, breaking out into a coughing fit. Felicia leaned over the table to pound on his back, trying to help but not quite able to hide her amusement. Silco took another long pull of his coffee which did little to help how his throat now ached. “We’re meeting tonight to go over our research and see where we’re at,” he told her when he was able to breathe again. 

“That’s good,” Felicia said with a smile. She sat back and took another bite of her protein bar. Something in her expression made alarm bells go off in Silco’s head, like he was playing right into her hands and had no way to stop it. “I’m glad the two of you are finally getting along.”

“I’m so happy you’re happy,” Silco muttered around a mouthful of noodles. Getting along might have been a bit generous, but Silco was trying to be friendlier, so he withheld complaints about his concerns over Vander’s academic performance. He had a suspicion that if he shared his anxieties she would take offense on Vander’s behalf, and he didn’t think that he could handle a monologue about how great he was right now.

+ + +

The day they’d chosen to meet wasn’t optimal given Vander’s overloaded schedule. He had afternoon classes followed immediately by practice, but they had both decided that neither wanted to delay the meeting. After all, there was only so much time available to do the work, and they both had full schedules to work around. Right now, though, Silco wished they’d just postponed. 

They’d agreed to meet at the library at seven o’clock to give Vander enough time to shower and eat beforehand. Silco, of course, arrived earlier than he needed to, armed with yet another cup of coffee. He didn’t have anywhere else to be, but he knew that if he’d gone to his dorm, he would have slept through their meeting time. At least if he was already at the library, he could at least kill the time he waited for Vander working on some of his other assignments. His body dragged as he settled at his usual table, the caffeine no longer providing any benefits. He went through the motions of laying out his textbooks and notes, rubbing sleep out of his eyes when the words started to blur on the page.

He kept an anxious eye on the time, switching from his literature notes to the research he’d prepared about thirty minutes before he expected Vander to arrive. 

Except seven came and went, and Silco tapped his pen against his notes, scratching out one idea and writing down a thought to replace it. He checked his phone and sighed, trying to give Vander a modicum of grace. He could be patient, but it would be nice if Vander had at least sent him a message to let him know he was on his way. By seven thirty Silco was starting to flag, his last dose of caffeine wearing off inconveniently. He didn’t want to leave to get another coffee in case Vander arrived while he was gone and assumed that Silco had left, although at this point, Silco was tempted to pack his things and leave out of spite. Instead at the table he stayed, pulling out his history book and flipping to the current reading. He stared at the open textbook for a long minute, willing the words to stop swimming across the page. 

He should just leave. Obviously he needed to sleep, except he was too tired to think about walking home right now, and if Vander did show up, he would get a second wind. He just had to focus on Zaun’s Rebellion and its impacts on the region’s recent history until Vander got there. 

Easy peasy.

— — —

Vander was not having a good day by any definition, and he kind of had to wonder who the fuck he had pissed off in a past life to deserve it. Honestly it would be more accurate to say that the past forty-eight hours had been rough. He was well aware that Silco expected him to drop the ball for this project and try to skate by on Silco’s work, but he refused to let that happen. Actually finding the time to work on his research had been easier said than done, however; their coach was pushing hard for the team to make it to finals, which meant practices were running longer, thus it took Vander longer to cool down afterwards. If they wanted a run at finals, the last thing he needed right now was to get injured. But a longer cooldown meant that Vander had stayed up into the early morning finishing his annotated bibliography. 

Making it through his classes was a struggle, but fortunately he didn’t have a lunch class, so he was able to find a relatively comfortable chair in the student lounge to grab a quick power nap. 

If the exhaustion and stress didn’t kill him, seeing Silco honestly might. 

That was probably dramatic, but it was getting harder for him to avoid the fact that he wanted Silco to like him. It wasn’t just trying to be nice anymore because Silco was Felicia’s friend, or just trying to get to know Silco for the sake of it. For some inexplicable reason, Vander wanted Silco to like him, to see him as more than just Felicia’s dumb jock friend. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Silco had fit perfectly against him on the trolley back from Piltover or the random guy he’d made out with at the Nu Nu Theta party; a lackluster replacement for the real thing. He hadn’t consciously been seeking out anyone who looked like Silco, but when someone tall and wiry with dark hark and pointed features had approached him, he’d felt weak. He couldn’t remember if he’d even asked the guy’s name, not that it mattered. And while it felt good to have someone approximating Silco to work some of his frustration out with, he just knew that Silco wouldn't have let him have the upper hand the entire time. It was like Silco with all his sharp edges rubbed off, except the sharp edges were the thing that made Silco Silco .

It was becoming a real problem.

He’d done his best to get out of practice early, convincing Benzo to cover for him so that he could skip out on helping clean up, but before they were released their coach launched into a rambling speech about their season and what they needed to do if they wanted a chance at finals. Vander was stuck, bouncing his knee as he sat on the bleachers, listening to what their coach obviously thought was a rousing call to arms. 

By the time he was finished Vander was already late. He’d run off the pitch towards the showers as soon as he could break away, sending Silco a text message letting him know he was running behind but was on his way. Unfortunately, the area around the rugby pitch was something of a deadzone—full bars but still no service. All he could hope was that Silco received it.

What followed was a fast, cold rinse and a stop at the vending machines near the dining hall. He loaded up on snacks, shoving them into his bag and ripping into a protein bar as he rushed to the library.

When he reached the table where they’d met last time, he slowed his pace as he took in the sight in front of him. Silco was slumped forward over the table using his arms and open textbook as a pillow, fast asleep. Vander almost felt like a voyeur, witnessing Silco in such a vulnerable state. He was struck again by just how pretty Silco was, his usually sharp features relaxed and his hair starting to come loose from its tie as he dozed. As he got closer, he could see that a few strands of Silco’s hair had caught on his lashes and Vander felt the strong impulse to reach out and tuck some of the hair behind Silco’s ear. To brush his fingertips against Silco’s smooth, angular cheekbone. 

He waited a few more seconds, taking in the steady rise and fall of Silco’s shoulders as he breathed, before reaching out a hand to give Silco a gentle shake. “Silco? Silco, wake up,” he said quietly.

Silco sat up abruptly, and Vander took a quick step back to avoid the wide arc of his flailing arm. He watched as Silco squinted against the bright light, looking around quickly to take in his surroundings, before his eyes finally settled on Vander standing over him.

“You’re late,” Silco croaked. The sleep clinging to his words made the accusation sound horridly endearing, as did the way his thin nose scrunched as he yawned.

“Sorry,” Vander said as he finally sat down. His bag jostled the table, sending Silco’s pen rolling across his open notebook and onto the floor. Vander bent to pick it up, setting it onto Silco’s open textbook so it wouldn’t run away again. “It’s been a crazy day. I sent you a text telling you I was running late, but the pitch is kind of a deadzone so I don’t know if you got it.”

Silco let out a sigh, pushing his long fingers through his hair to straighten the strands that had come loose before giving up and redoing his low bun altogether. Vander wondered if his hair felt as silky as it looked. “What time is it?” Silco asked.

“A little after eight,” Vander said apologetically. 

Silco scrubbed at his eyes. He looked exhausted, his under eyes almost looking bruised from lack of sleep. He didn’t look at Vander, instead reaching for his computer and straightening his notes. “Well, as I’ve been here for over an hour, why don’t we just get into it.”

Vander winced. So much for proving that he could carry his own weight. “I really am sorry, Silco.” He emptied his own bag, save for his vending machine haul, setting out his laptop and notebook. He wanted to explain, tell Silco about all the things that had kept him, but he didn’t think Silco was interested in hearing his excuses. 

“You’re lucky I had other things to work on so it wasn’t a complete waste of my time.” He flicked his eyes to Vander and away. Vander had a sinking feeling that Silco was purposefully avoiding looking at him, that all his hard won progress had been ruined thanks to a less than inspiring speech about how they could still make it to finals when the entire team knew that their chances were slim. “So, what were you able to find out?”

As Vander’s computer finished booting, he reached for his notebook, grabbing the annotated bibliography he’d prepared. He handed a copy to Silco, keeping the one that was flagged and highlighted for his own use. “Okay, so this is where I’m at…”

As he explained his logic behind his research, Vander watched as Silco’s eyes scanned the pages, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead the longer he read. “This is…very thorough,” Silco admitted, his surprise evident in his voice. Vander smiled. He felt a smug sense of pride at subverting Silco’s expectations. He may have lost a little sleep working on it, but seeing Silco’s face made the effort worth it.

“Thank you. I know rugby takes up a lot of my time, but I really am a good student. My scholarship kind of depends on it. I don’t want you to think that I can’t carry my half of the project.” He pointed at a particular source on the third page of the bibliography. “I think this would be a great option to use as our primary reference. It goes into a lot of detail about child welfare outcomes based on a wide range of variables and provides detailed tables that show how they measure up against each other and overlap. That information will be really relevant in developing a proposal for services that can address the variables that have the highest success outcomes.”

When Silco didn’t interject, he kept going, reviewing a couple of Noxian sources that he thought would be an interesting source for a contrasting opinion. After a couple minutes of uninterrupted rambling, Vander realized that Silco wasn’t listening anymore. He was staring down at the paper, completely zoned out. 

“Silco?” Vander waved a hand in front of Silco’s face. “Silco? Hello?” 

— — —

It was a second before Silco registered that Vander had stopped talking and was, in fact, looking at him with concern. “--ilco?” Vander said. He didn’t look annoyed that Silco wasn’t listening, just worried. It was a look Silco was becoming annoyingly familiar with. Vander was just so damn earnest .

Obviously, he had misjudged Vander, given how detailed his research was, clearly showing a level of analytical thought on par with Silco’s own. Normally Silco was a good judge of character, able to trust his gut and follow his instincts, but Vander had him second guessing everything he’d assumed. He cared about Silco enjoying himself, he wanted to make sure that Silco knew he could carry his half of their final project, his notes were color coded .

Before Silco could think about what he was doing, he reached across the space between them and pulled Vander into a desperate kiss. He felt Vander go rigid beneath his hands, and he realized that he could have completely read the situation incorrectly. Mortified, he started to pull away, prepared to beat a hasty retreat and find a hole to die in from embarrassment. But then Vander’s hands were cupping Silco’s jaw the way he’d imagined them doing a hundred times by now, one hand sliding around the back of his neck to keep Silco from pulling away, while the other went to his waist and tugged him out of his chair and into Vander’s lap.

Kissing Vander was like a drug, better than he could have possibly imagined after watching him with that guy outside the frat house. Even still, Silco couldn’t stop from remembering the way Vander had held the other man, his control over the kiss itself. Right now, Vander seemed content to let Silco be in charge, responding to Silco easily, like he was already intimately familiar with how Silco kissed and liked to be kissed in return. It was heady, feeling this kind of power over someone as large and imposing as Vander.

When Silco pressed his tongue along the seam of Vander’s lips, he opened them willingly before abruptly pulling back to stare up at Silco, eyes caught on Silco’s mouth, wide with surprise.

“Is that a–?”

Silco stuck his tongue out, catching the bar that went through it against his front teeth and sliding it across them with a little clicking sound.

“Holy shit,” Vander breathed. Silco had a brief moment to feel smug before Vander was pulling him back down and licking eagerly into his mouth the way he had with the man at the party. Seeing Vander kiss someone had been overwhelming enough; the real thing might just kill him.

Vander’s hands were everywhere, in Silco’s hair, catching on Silco’s bun, sliding along his back, grabbing his ass and thighs as he pulled Silco more firmly against his body. It had been a while since Silco had been kissed so thoroughly, if he ever had been. Silco was no stranger to sex, although this semester had been a bit of a dry spell for him. His regular hookup had been more interested in leaving the conspicuous hickey on Silco’s throat than giving a good performance the last time they had slept together, all those weeks ago. It had been fine, a decent enough way to pass the time, or so Silco had thought. Comparing the two experiences felt impossible. Vander was spectacular. 

Silco’s own hands wandered, travelling across the broad, muscled planes of Vander’s chest, up the curve of his arms to his shoulders and into the thick strands of hair that begged to be pulled. Silco allowed himself that, using his hold on Vander’s hair to move him where he wanted him to go, to keep him still while Silco took his time learning every inch of his mouth. Vander just let him, causing more heat to zing along Silco’s nerves. He could hardly believe how pliable Vander was, how eager he was to meet Silco beat for beat without question or hesitation.

The longer they carried on, the more aware Silco was that the library was not the place for them to be doing this at the best of times, even more so during midterms. Someone could catch them, one of the other library assistants, or some random student. He thought vaguely about Vander asking if he’d ever caught anyone making out in the stacks, how Silco had wondered if it was an invitation. To think that he’d been so stubborn at the time to deny himself this. His mind made a valiant effort to remember where he was and what they should be doing, but then Vander bit his lower lip gently, soothing the bite with his tongue, and all further thoughts flew out of his head for the next few minutes. 

With his fingers still buried in Vander’s hair, he finally drew away, breathing hard. Vander looked positively debauched, lips red and beginning to swell, eyes half closed as he panted under Silco. 

They weren’t doing any more work on their project tonight. 

“Grab your stuff,” Silco said, voice husky from their kiss as he slipped from Vander’s lap. His body felt cold in the absence of Vander’s heat. He busied himself with flipping the lid of his laptop closed and sliding everything into his bag. The bag would be a mess the next time he opened it, but that was a problem for his future self to deal with. Thankfully, Vander was quick on the uptake now that Silco wasn’t in his lap and he followed Silco’s lead, collecting his things as quickly as he could before Silco was dragging him from the library.

“Where are we headed?” Vander asked, like he was breathlessly asking about the weather. Silco decided against the elevator and led them down the stairs. He probably looked deranged.

“My dorm. It’s in the Baron building.”

“Oh, mine’s closer.” Silco wasn’t sure if Vander was asking, telling, or offering, but it didn’t matter.

“I don’t have a roommate. Do you?” Silco asked, smirking at Vander’s sharp inhale and the way his eyes went a bit unfocused.

“Yep, yours is good.”

The Baron building wasn’t far, just a ten minute walk, although at their pace they were likely to reach it in half that time. Even still, the few minutes it took to get across campus felt like an age. Vander’s palm was hot against his as Silco marched them towards his room, Vander stumbling a bit in his haste to keep up despite his longer stride. The cool late-fall air felt good against his skin, but did little to ease the heat that he felt knowing what was going to happen when they got back to his room. 

Well, what he hoped was going to happen. 

What he was reasonably confident was going to happen.

Once again, Silco ignored the elevators and headed up the stairs to the third floor of the dormitory. His hands were shaking as he tried to get his key and unlock the door when he caught Vander looking at him again, that same, soft look of concern on his face. It felt like a trap, an alarm blaring in Silco’s mind, telling him to stop, to run. But Silco was too tired to resist his body’s demands to get Vander on top of him, against him, under him, inside him. He finally managed to get the door open and was quick to toss his bag on the other bed.

”Wow, when you said you didn’t have a roo—“ Nope, no talking. 

Silco pushed Vander up against his door, their bodies shutting it with a resounding slam. His neighbor banged on the wall, but Silco couldn’t give less of a damn right then. Not when he was pulling Vander into another kiss, standing on his tiptoes to manage it. Fortunately, Vander wrapped his arms around Silco’s waist and lifted him , grabbing under Silco’s thighs and Silco needed little encouragement before he was wrapping them around Vander’s waist.

”Holy shit,” Silco gasped, burying his fingers in Vander’s hair for the second time that evening. 

“Yeah, I—“ 

Silco pulled him into another kiss. When would this man recognize when Silco didn’t want to talk to him? He did his best to grind forward against Vander’s stomach, breath stuttering whenever he managed to cause enough tantalizing friction between them. Vander’s hands gripped his hips like a vice, effectively holding Silco still.

”What—“

”Just, take a second , Silco,” Vander said, breathing hard. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Fucking—that’s what Silco was afraid of! Vander pressed a quick kiss against Silco’s pouting lips, then another. “How about we get more comfortable?” He shifted to support more of Silco’s weight with one arm, the other skating up his back. Silco huffed but relented, unlocking his legs from around Vander’s waist.

”Fine,” Silco said, sliding off his jacket and tossing it on the other bed with his backpack. He whipped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, all before realizing that Vander wasn’t also getting naked. “What are you waiting for?”

”Hell, are you this impatient with everyone you take to bed?” Vander scoffed. Silco stared at him, hands frozen on his belt buckle, trying to figure out why this man was so stupid when he was clearly intelligent enough to set off Silco’s competency kink.

”Are you saying that you don’t want to sleep with me?” Silco asked dryly. He felt slightly vindicated when Vander went pink.

”No,” Vander started, drawing out the “oh” sound. He stepped into Silco’s space, hovering his hands over Silco’s waist and just barely letting his fingertips brush against his skin. “I’m saying that I don’t see the need to rush. Maybe I want to take my time with you.” Silco closed his eyes against the tremor that went through him at the way Vander’s voice went rumbly at the end. Vander finally let his fingers land, pulling Silco’s hands away from his belt and guiding them to grab onto his hips. 

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” Silco said breathlessly. Silco was what a lot of people referred to as “wiry”. He didn’t have much in the way of muscle, no time or desire to keep up any kind of exercise routine. Some of his previous trysts had commented on how thin he was, joking about his need to “just eat more”. In comparison, Vander felt like a brick wall, muscle firm under a healthy layer of fat. Silco let his fingers drag upwards, catching on Vander’s shirt but making no other move to take it off. 

“I was lying ,” Vander growled as he rewarded Silco’s patience handsomely by taking a firm hold of his chin and kissing him. 

There was the control that Silco had witnessed outside the frat house.

Vander slid one arm around Silco’s back, wrapping his fingers under Silco’s belt and pulling him closer. Silco gasped, digging his fingers into Vander’s side. Now that they were going slower, he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin, every movement causing heat to pool in his belly. 

“This needs to be off,” Silco said weakly when Vander started to kiss his neck, small bites followed by a gracious tongue to soothe the skin. He pulled at Vander’s shirt in earnest, tugging it up at the back. “ Vander.” The bigger man sighed, as if Silco was asking the world of him, and stopped sucking a mark into the skin where Silco’s shoulder met his neck long enough to remove his shirt and toss it towards the bed without checking to see where it landed.

Things got a little fuzzy after that. Silco’s sleep deprived mind was struggling to keep up with everything he wanted to do, everywhere he wanted to touch. He was quickly losing that second wind, melting under Vander as he pressed Silco down into his sheets. One of those firm legs slotted between Silco’s, and how was he supposed to resist that kind of temptation.

”That’s right, c’mon.” Someone made a keening sound and Silco froze, blinking up at Vander while he pieced together that it had come from him . Silco had never made a sound like that in his life. He burned with embarrassment, covering his face, but Vander just chuckled, nosing his way between Silco’s hands until Silco was forced to kiss him again. He moved against Vander’s thigh weakly, shaking with restraint until Vander grabbed his hip and encouraged him, setting up a heady rhythm. 

After weeks of not being able to stop thinking about Vander, having him here felt like a dream. If this was a dream, Silco had every intention of enjoying it to the fullest. He reached down and pressed the heel of his palm against Vander’s crotch, hips and breath stuttering as Vander moaned and his hips humped forward, chasing the relief Silco was offering. Silco felt his orgasm racing up his spine, his abdomen seizing as he shuddered apart, biting Vander’s shoulder to muffle his choked off moan.

He was vaguely aware of Vander shifting, a sudden rush of air against his front the only way he could tell that Vander had sat back on his heels. He wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but opening them again seemed impossible. He could feel Vander fumbling with something, hear a belt buckle clink against itself, and then the familiar rhythmic shaking of someone desperately bringing themselves over the edge into oblivion. Vander grunted as he came, and Silco could imagine him biting his lower lip to keep from shouting. He was almost sorry that he’d missed seeing it.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Vander got out of bed, which had to be against some kind of law. Silco was pre-law, so he should know. 

“Funny kind of pillow talk you have, Silco,” Vander said. Silco grunted and waved his hand in the direction he thought he heard Vander’s voice coming from. The acoustics in the dorms were bullshit though. “Where’s a washcloth? I’ll run to the bathroom real quick.” The question had Silco finally opening his eyes, squinting at Vander’s fuzzy outline across the room.

”What? What are you talking about?” Fuck, it was bright. 

“I’m going to wet a washcloth so that I can clean us up,” Vander said slowly. Fuck him. Sure it helped Silco process what he was saying, but fuck him all the same.

Silco let his head drop back onto his pillow and his eyes shut again. “That’s stupid. Just—turn off the light.” 

“You don’t seriously want to fall asleep still wearing the pants you just came in.” Vander shuffled through what sounded like a drawer.

”You don’t know my life,” Silco muttered. He heard Vander mutter something that sounded like “And whose fault is that?” If he had more energy, he would throw something. “Other dresser, second drawer.” 

Silco didn’t have much in the way of belongings. Everything he owned was here in his dorm room. He’d sorted through them before he’d moved in, wanting to ensure that he didn’t bring anything that would result in him taking up more than his allotted half of the room. But when his roommate never showed up, it felt like a small luxury to have a second dresser specifically for linens. At some point, the door opened and closed again, but Silco was quickly slipping into sleep.

Some time later—it could have been a few minutes or hours, Silco couldn’t be sure—there was the sound of the door opening and closing again, and the soft shuffle of footsteps across the thin carpet that Silco had picked up at a yard sale right after term had started. He grumbled something, his half-asleep mind struggling to remember who he would have invited back. Marcus would have just left him there.

”Shh, it’s just me,” a voice said through the fog of sleep trying valiantly to pull Silco under as the bed dipped beneath the added weight. Silco wasn’t sure who “Me” was, but he liked the gentle way they were lifting his hips to slide off his pants that had gone very sticky and gross against his skin. He jerked and tried to roll away from a very sudden, very cold washcloth wiping against his pelvis, but Me held him down, murmuring something that sounded apologetic. He pushed Me away when he started moving Silco’s legs, but they were clearly stronger, bullying him into wearing shorts.

The room went dark and a moment later the bed dipped as Me joined Silco on it, tugging the covers up over their bodies. Silco felt strong arms wrap around him, pulling him back against a firm chest. He sighed, relaxing back into the warm embrace. Soft breath tickled the shell of his ear, and he felt the brush of lips against his cheek.

— — —

Silco was alone when he woke the next morning. For one hysterical moment, he wondered if he’d dreamt the whole thing, except there was a note on the pillow next to him written on a piece of notebook paper torn in half and tented so he’d see it. 

Hate to leave before you’re awake. We should do that again sometime. Soon. - V

Silco groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow while he groped around his bedside table for his phone. He had no idea what time it was, but he hoped it was early enough that he could curl up in a ball and have a brief existential crisis over the fact that he’d slept well for the first time in days. Given his overconsumption of caffeine, he couldn’t even say it was just a coincidence that he had slept better after Vander had made him cum in his pants hard enough that he was pretty sure his brain just shut down. After another minute, he had to admit to himself that he was unable to find his damn phone. He sat up with a soft groan and looked around the room.

Right. He’d dumped his stuff when they’d gotten back in his haste to get his hands–and lips–back on Vander.

Crawling out of bed felt like hell, as did crossing the room and digging through his bag. He found his phone buried somewhere near the bottom. Waking up the screen he was greeted with a text message from Vander received some time after eleven.

Vander Oreson: Sorry! Running super late. On my way!

So earnest . It wasn’t that he really thought Vander had lied to him about sending the text message, but he still felt comforted to see it. Clearing the message notification he finally registered the time: nine thirty. Shit . He was late for his morning class. Late enough that even if he rushed he’d miss most of it. 

He chewed his lip for a moment, mentally tallying the pros and cons of going anyway, before choosing to crawl back into bed with his phone in hand and burrow under the covers. As the fabric shifted he was struck by the scent of sandalwood and bergamot and something musky and earthy with an edge of salt that he knew for certain now was uniquely Vander .

His heart beat fast in his chest. This was bad. They’d barely done anything but it was still better than anything Silco had imagined, and made all of his past hook-ups pale in comparison. Vander was capable of throwing Silco around like a damn ragdoll, and frankly that’s what Silco had been expecting; but instead, he’d bullied Silco into accepting something slow, something almost tender. 

As he turned over their tryst over in his mind, a realisation crashed into him: they’d never actually talked about their assignment. 

“ Shit .” Unlocking his phone once more, he brought up his conversation with Vander. He knew that he should ask if Vander was available today to talk about it, but hesitated. What if Vander read that as him being over eager to see him again? Did he care? Could waiting until this evening really hurt? Was it pathetic that he was thinking this deeply about sending a text message? Silco pinched the bridge of his nose. Regardless of what Vander thought about or read into his message, Silco fired it off anyway.

S: So we actually never did talk about our assignment. Are you free at any time today?

Chapter Text

Even with his decent night’s sleep, Vander felt his mind dragging through his lab and the class after. He kept thinking about Silco, his frenzied touches and eager lips. After imagining such a rendezvous for what felt like eons, having the real thing almost felt like a dream. He could feel his phone burning in his pocket with the knowledge that he could just reach out, instead of hoping to see Silco at a club house party just for the chance to learn something about him. 

Maybe it was foolish to hope that some kind of wall had been torn down between them, but Vander had been called far worse in his time. Even still, it was probably better to let Silco reach out to him. No, instead of texting the man that had been plaguing his dreams—day and night alike—he stabbed at his late breakfast and shoved a too-large bite in his mouth.

“Hey, where’d you go last night?” Benzo asked, taking the seat across from Vander in the dining hall. Fortunately, his mouth was full, so he had some time to delay answering. Benzo wouldn’t believe that he’d stayed at Connol’s or another teammate’s dorm, but he didn’t really want to tell Benzo about hooking up with Silco. He hadn’t forgotten Benzo’s comment about being able to do better than “that reedy little bookworm”. The food he was chewing took on a distinctly unpleasant texture, but he still hadn’t thought of what to say yet. 

Benzo’s expression got slightly uncomfortable while he waited.

”I know that face!” Connol crowed as he grabbed the seat next to Benzo. “That’s his ‘I got laid but I’m ashamed of it because I was a coward and didn’t hook up with Silco’ face. Remember, he had the same expression after the frat party Sevika dragged him off to?” 

“Y’know what, I think I do. It’s kinda like…constipation mixed with religious guilt,” Benzo snorted.

“Oh fuck off.” Vander swallowed and tossed his napkin at Connol, who batted it away with a laugh.

”Well, maybe it’ll have been enough to get that out of your system. You’ve been hung up on that guy for way too long,” Benzo said, shaking his protein shake and shrugging.  

Vander felt his face get hot. “I haven’t been hung up on anybody!” he protested. Benzo rolled his eyes and took a long swig of his protein shake, gesturing for Connol to speak for them both.

”Right, right. We have a team-wide betting pool about when it will finally happen for no reason. If you could make your move by the end of midterms, that would be great. I have a good amount of money riding on this.” What?

“Nah, I don’t think he’s going to make that happen until finals, at least,” Benzo said, nudging Connol with his elbow. Vander blinked at them, waiting for the punchline to hit. This had to be a fucking joke. “He’s got the rest of the season to think about.” They both laughed again.

”Are you two done?” Vander asked, stabbing his eggs a little harder than strictly necessary. “A betting pool, seriously?” Benzo gave him a look like Vander was the one being unreasonable.

”Jeez, it’s just some fun, Vander.”

”Seriously, what’s crawled up your ass and died lately?”

”Nothing’s crawled up my ass. Maybe I’m just not thrilled that my friends are taking bets about my sex life.” Why was that so unreasonable? 

“It’s like Benzo said, it’s just a bit of fun,” Connol said, still nonchalant. 

“So you’d be fine if we’d had a bet going about you and Felicia when you were still doing your weird flirting with no follow through routine?” Vander picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and grabbing his tray as he stood up.

“Honestly, I’m more surprised to know that you didn’t,” Connol answered. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“Lost my appetite!” Vander barked over his shoulder. He dumped his tray on one of the nearby racks and stormed out of the cafeteria.  

He probably shouldn’t have lost his shit like that, if for no other reason than because it drew unnecessary attention to himself. He just didn’t see how any of this was anyone’s business. Sure, he knew all about Felicia and Connol because they were both his friends and they’d both come to him separately for advice; he hadn’t gone to seek the information out for kicks. Or made a fucking bet. It was bad enough that they weren’t doing this, and lashing out at their “good-natured” teasing only added fuel to the fire.

Like they were still in primary school.

It wasn’t like he thought they would really care if he hooked up with Silco. Sure they would tease him for a bit, but that wasn’t anything truly new to him. Maybe…maybe he just wanted to keep last night to himself for a little longer. Not to mention the fact that Silco probably wouldn’t appreciate it if Vander started gossiping about them. Hell, he’d probably never give Vander the time of day again, and he wasn’t ready to lose this new…whatever this was. He tried to calm down as he walked, no particular direction in mind, letting his mind wander back to that morning.

He wished he hadn’t had to leave before Silco woke up, but it wasn’t as if he’d planned for their library rendezvous to end with them in Silco’s bed. His internal clock had woken him at six, plenty of time to go back to his dorm and get ready for the day, as long as he skipped his morning workout. What coach didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

He’d just laid there and watched Silco for a few minutes, studying his face again while the other man couldn’t hide himself behind a scowl. His hair had been a wild mess on his pillow, and he snored a bit, soft, almost snuffling, but snores all the same. Vander had just barely managed to muffle a laugh into his own bicep; Silco–dangerously beautiful, always put together, severe Silco–snored charmingly. 

As much as he’d wanted to linger in bed listening to Silco, to see those blue eyes blink open with sleep instead of slipping closed with the weight of it, and, perhaps wishfully, to see Silco shake apart again beneath him, Vander had needed to get back to his room to change for his morning lab. 

It had been a funny thing, being in Silco’s room practically unattended. Almost half of a semester spent trying to get even a scrap of information from him and suddenly he was surrounded by his things, so much revealed and yet so many more questions raised. Vander hadn’t actually poked around in anything, but he’d looked around as he’d dressed and gathered his things. He wasn’t interested in violating Silco’s privacy, but he was only human and couldn’t completely ignore his curiosity.

The room had been pretty tidy. Silco largely kept his things to one side of the room despite the fact he had the full space available for his use. Vander would have pushed the beds together if he had a double to himself. There had been a stack of books on his bedside table, a mix of what looked like fiction and not–Vander didn’t recognise many of the titles, so he couldn’t be certain. On the top of the stack was a leather bound journal with a pen tucked inside it. Interesting. 

One area Silco had taken full advantage of his extra space was the wall next to the door. A cork board dominated the space, covered with a large desk calendar, heavily notated with a mix of handwriting and sticky notes plastered all over it. The rest of the cork board was filled with concert flyers and ticket stubs for bands Vander had never heard of.

Maestro. The Chem Sisters. Timebomb and the Firelights.

Vander didn’t recognize any of the names right off, but that wasn’t very surprising. Benzo called his musical inclinations “old man music”. Vander couldn’t even deny it; most of what he listened to was what had played at his parent’s bar, and they weren’t exactly serving the young, hip crowd.

The last thing that had caught his eye had been a bookshelf packed full of well thumbed books and various knicknacks mixed amongst them, including what looked like a sewing kit? Then he spotted the small sewing machine on the bottom shelf. Vander didn’t see a record player, but Silco had to have one considering the two crates of records sitting on top of the bookshelf. 

It was no surprise to learn that Silco was a voracious reader; Felicia had mentioned that he’d recommended books to her before. But the music collection and sewing paraphernalia were intriguing. Vander would have to ask him about it the next time they saw each other and hope that Silco didn’t brush him off again.

As if thinking about Silco’s room had opened a floodgate, Vander realized that they hadn’t even talked about their assignment last night. That was mostly his fault, considering how late he’d been. Then maybe…he had a legitimate reason to text Silco, other than “I want to see you again and maybe kiss you stupid”.

Almost on cue, Vander’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He stopped in the middle of the path that cut through the quad to check it. A few students bumped him as they passed, grumbling about his lack of consideration and paying attention to his surroundings. He didn’t care. They could cope; there was a message waiting from Silco. His heart beat a little faster seeing his name on the screen, even if the message was only asking if Vander happened to be free any time that day to discuss the very project Vander had just been thinking about. 

He had one more class this afternoon, right before practice. His original plan had been to go back to his room, shower, maybe take a nap, then head to class, but he could make it work. He weighed the options of saying he could meet immediately to allow for more time to work, versus at least showering. Maybe shaving. After dallying in Silco’s room this morning, he barely had time to go to his room and change. He didn’t need Silco thinking that he was some kind of slob. 

V: I’ll be free in about an hour, then I have class and practice right after. 

Technically, his day was relatively light, with a nice break in the middle. Unfortunately, Silco’s free time tended to be in the evening, so they had decided on yesterday, since Vander had the option of a nice, midday nap. Vander wondered vaguely what had changed.

S: That works, actually. Meet in about an hour then?

V: Same place as last time?

S: Perfect.

At least they had managed to review his research last night, but they still needed to see what Silco had found and what was left to do. Not to mention figure out how to go about the actual writing of the paper. That just meant that he couldn’t let himself get distracted thinking about Silco’s tongue piercing, or the way he'd turned to putty in Vander’s hands, or how, even post orgasm and clearly sleep deprived, he still had an edge. 

The chances of him being able to fully focus were looking slimmer by the second; the idea of seeing Silco again so soon was already sending a thrill through Vander. Not just seeing him, but being near him, actually talking to him. The memory of the night before was still fresh. It was too bad that Silco had succumbed to his obvious exhaustion so quickly after he’d gotten off, but Vander was willing to take what he could get after weeks of trying to get the other man out of his system with other people. Was that the healthiest mindset? Maybe not. 

He couldn’t help but scoff at what Benzo had said about getting Silco “out of his system”. If anything, last night had stoked his interest, throwing a proverbial log on the fire that was his desire for Silco.

+ + +

After confirming with Vander that he was available, Silco hauled himself out of bed once more. His poor attendance aside, he probably really needed the time to stay in bed, dozing in a consistent twilight. He threw on his robe and collected his shower caddy, making his way down the hall to the bathroom. He hadn’t gotten far before there was a low whistle and someone shouted “Nice hickey, Silco!”

What!?

His face flushed hot and he pulled the collar of his robe tight around his throat, hurrying down the hall and into the bathroom. This late in the morning there weren’t many people around, so thankfully he more or less had the room to himself. He approached the sinks and loosened his hold on his robe to inspect his throat. There was, in fact, a dark purple mark on the side of his neck just above his shoulder.

Heat rushed through him as memories of last night filtered into his mind’s eye. Vander’s hands all over him, mouth hot on his neck, his low tone when he’d said he wanted to take his time with Silco, and the admission that he’d been lying when he’d said Silco wasn’t his type.

Now that the dam had broken, he still wasn’t sure if the way he’d felt about Vander had changed—a mix of exasperation, amusement, and irritation—but he knew that the taste he’d had only made him want more. He’d have to behave himself when they met at the library later.

After he’d showered, he texted Felicia to see if she was available for a late breakfast. Normally, he’d be on his second coffee with an extra shot, but since his morning had suddenly opened in the absence of a class to attend, he figured he might as well spoil himself. He was pulling up his pants when his phone rang a moment later and he answered it with a sigh.

“I slept in,” he said, answering Felicia’s question before she’d asked it despite knowing that that would do nothing but further pique her curiosity.

“You never sleep in,” Felicia replied. 

No, he didn’t. He was neurotic about his attendance, and today should have been no different. He should be running exclusively on coffee and cigarettes, except a certain tall rugby player had given him an unreasonably superb orgasm and then took care of him before spending the night. Silco was only human.

“There’s a first time for everything.” 

He put his phone on speaker and went about grabbing a shirt to wear. It would have to be something with a high collar. Fortunately, it was cold enough that Felicia wouldn’t suspect anything if he showed up wearing a scarf or a turtleneck. If Felicia saw the hickey on his neck she would know immediately what had happened and he wasn’t prepared to reveal what he and Vander had done just yet.

“Didn’t you have a class this morning?” Felicia continued in her quest for information.

“Yes.”

“So not only did you sleep in, but you missed a class? Are you sick?”

Silco rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling begging for strength. “No.”

There was a moment of blissful quiet before Silco heard a door slam on the other end of the line. “I’ll be in the cafeteria in twenty minutes and you better have an explanation when you get there.”

“See you soon,” Silco said with a resigned sigh and slipped his phone into his pocket. 

He had twenty minutes to think up some explanation for the one person he couldn’t bullshit, and then he had to face Vander again. He grabbed his large thermos on the way out of his room; he was going to need so much caffeine for this.

— — —

It was ten thirty when he got to the cafeteria. This late there weren’t a lot of hot options available and instead he grabbed a bowl of cereal and a coffee before he joined Felicia at the table where she was already waiting for him. 

He barely even had a chance to sit down before she was peering at him, scrutinizing him. He ignored her probing look as he lifted a spoonful of his breakfast to his mouth.

“Was your class cancelled?” she asked, leaning forward to stare harder at him. He chewed back at her and shook his head.

“So you slept late and missed a class because of that and not because your class was cancelled. And you claim that you’re not sick.” She peered at him again, eyes narrowing. Silco resolutely kept his eyes on his food. “How did your meeting with Vander go last night?” Silco flicked his eyes up to look at her and she had a knowing look on her face. He swallowed his mouthful, but when he still didn’t answer she laughed, clapping her hands together in delight. “Finally!” she crowed. “God, after Piltover Connol and I have just been waiting for something to happen. We were sure that something had happened while we were there, but Connol said Vander shut that down pretty quick when he brought it up, and you still won’t tell me what happened, so we’ve just been wondering.”

Silco sighed. He still didn’t understand what everyone’s obsession was with him and Vander. Did they not have enough going on in their own lives that they had to speculate about what was going on in his? Despite his annoyance at Felicia’s persistent curiosity about his personal life, he knew it came from a place of care, and he also knew that he could only resist her for so long. That night in Piltover no longer felt like a crushing weight on his chest when he thought about it, so he could at least tell Felicia the high points of what had happened. “Nothing happened between Vander and me in Piltover. Some Pilty propositioned me outside the bar. Vander intervened.”

“Wait, what?” Felicia asked, all mirth evaporating from her. “That guy you two came back inside with?”

Silco nodded.

She whistled. “Holy shit, S.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Silco muttered. He was granted a full two second’s peace before she leaned forward over the table. 

She kept her tone low, but Silco could still feel his face going red as she asked, “But last night? Did you guys…?”

It wasn’t worth the energy to deny it, since it was evident that Felicia had put the pieces together on her own, and once she latched onto something she was like a dog with a bone. “Yes,” he confirmed simply.

Felicia made a high pitched squealing sound and drummed her hands on the table in front of her. Silco scowled and gave her a kick under the table, not that she seemed to notice. “Connol is going to lose his mind!”

“Don’t…tell him,” Silco said, a flash of panic going through him at the thought of the entire rugby team knowing his business. He forced himself to spoon another mouthful of cereal into his mouth, although his appetite was quickly leaving him. 

Felicia sobered immediately. “What? Why not?” 

Silco used his mouthful to think of a good reason why not, but as he swallowed he still didn’t have one to offer. “Because it’s none of his business, for one,” Silco decided. That at least was a clear, black and white reason not to share his personal life with anyone else. That was perhaps the only part of this that felt clear-cut. “And because it’s not what you think. We’re not dating.”

“I never asked if you were dating,” Felicia said, rolling her eyes like Silco was being unreasonable. She leaned forward; it was a shock that she wasn’t lying on top of the dining hall table at this point. “Was it good? I’ve seen Vander with people at parties and he seems like he’d be good.” Her expression and tone were conspiratorial, and a sudden, horrid thought occurred to Silco.

“Have you and Vander ever–”

She pulled a face like Silco had asked her to kiss a toad. “Oh. No. God no. I mean, I’ve definitely thought about it before, but no.”

Silco didn’t know how he felt about Felicia’s easy disclosure that she’d considered hooking up with Vander herself. It made him feel oddly possessive of the other man. “Just don’t say anything, okay? Please?”

Felicia huffed and sat back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Fine.” 

“Thank you.” He finished his cereal and turned his attention to his cooling cup of coffee. He’d already added a pump of vanilla to it, but he ripped open a couple of sugar packets to make it perfect. “Don’t you also usually have a class this morning?”

Felicia shrugged, zoning out just a bit as she watched the sugar disappear into the coffee. “TA is sick and prof had something else on so it got cancelled.”

Silco tasted his coffee and grimaced—the dining hall coffee was truly the most bitter option made available to students. He ripped open another sugar packet before he noticed that Felicia was still staring off into space a bit. “Are you really that upset that I asked you not to tell Connol?” Felicia blinked at him, took a moment to process his words, and then snorted.

”No, no. I’m trying to remember who won the betting pool.” Silco nearly aspirated on his next sip.

”The what?” 

Felicia grabbed a napkin, unbothered by his clear and sudden anger. ”It’s nothing, stupid really. I’m pretty sure the team had one for me and Connol. Vander doesn’t know about it.” Silco wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure it’s Sevika.”

”Well…at least it was someone decent.”

— — —

Silco still had plenty of time after hanging out with Felicia, so he made his way to the library. He figured with his newly opened schedule he might as well use the time before Vander arrived to get organized. He wanted to make sure they used their time as efficiently as possible.

Making a beeline for his usual table, he pulled out his and Vander’s annotated bibliographies and a few pens. With another sip of his coffee from his thermos, he cross referenced the sources Vander had collected against his own. There was a lot of overlap, which was good. Some of the shock at Vander’s work returned, or maybe it was really shocking that Silco had apparently been so wrong about it. The research itself was a major task, so both of them having done that piece meant that the rest of the assignment should fall together with relative ease. The big issue would be merging the two halves in a way that felt cohesive.

He heard Vander before he saw him, large puffing breaths from taking the stairs. He appeared a moment later, his cheeks pink and his hair damp. Silco noticed that the ends were starting to curl a bit, but resolutely decided not to find that inexplicably charming. Vander smiled as he approached the table and caught sight of Silco waiting there. 

Silco ducked his own head and let out a breath. He needed to get it together; they didn’t have time for distractions.

”Hey,” Vander said simply as he took the seat next to Silco and unloaded his things from his bag. He made no mention of the night before, didn’t ask Silco how he was doing, didn’t bring up the proverbial elephant in the room. “I guess, let’s get down to it?”

”Yeah, yeah, sure.” Silco grabbed his thermos, mouth suddenly dry.

As they talked, Vander moved his seat closer to Silco as he turned the screen so they could both see. The position had their thighs pressed together beneath the table almost from hip to knee, and Vander slung his arm across the back of Silco’s chair, leaning in close. The sudden proximity and heat of Vander’s arm around him had Silco’s words sputtering and dying in his throat. When he turned to look at Vander their faces were only a few inches apart. Vander’s lips, so perfectly soft and kissable, were right there. It would be easy to just lean in and–

He coughed and looked away.

Focus. 

Vander shifted and gave Silco a bit of space, their thighs no longer touching, as if Silco didn’t still feel his leg burning from the contact, but he kept his arm on the back of Silco’s chair. Silco swallowed and continued.

In under an hour they’d determined they were on track and agreed to meet again in two weeks to compile their halves into a single document. 

Vander took his time putting away his laptop and other assorted papers, despite his allegedly packed schedule. Silco tried not to think about it too hard when Vander stood up, only to perch on the edge of the table watching as Silco methodically packed up his own things. His gaze felt like a physical touch, like being savored.

“Have any plans this weekend?” Vander asked suddenly and Silco cast him a confused look at the non sequitur. He’d been expecting a comment about last night for almost the entire hour, only for Vander to stick around and make small talk?

“What?”

“I said,” Vander repeated, “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“Why?”

Vander rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Silco shamelessly took an opportunity to admire the way his shirt stretched around his arms, remembering the way the muscle had felt beneath his palms. His fingers twitched with the desire to touch. “It’s just a question, Silco.”

Silco raised his brows and focused on putting his pens back in the proper pocket. “You’re still pursuing that are you?”

Vander let out a long suffering sigh, and Silco did not find it charming. “I just want to get to know you, Silco, so sue me. I’m not asking you for your life story.” He dropped his arms and leaned in close, giving Silco a slow smile. “Come on, Silco,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve seen what your face looks like when you cum, the least you can do is tell me what you’re up to this weekend.”

Silco’s face went hot. He couldn’t—he didn’t—he! “Keep your voice down,” he hissed, pressing a hand over Vander’s mouth. That same mouth that he now knew was soft and relenting, but managed to kiss Silco so well he felt starved for more. “We’re in the fucking library.”

Vander’s comment had been barely more than a whisper, but it had the desired effect. He could feel Vander’s lips curl into a smile against his palm. He gave Silco a look that said you know I’m right that made Silco want to punch him and kiss him in equal turn. 

“There’s a thrift store in town that I need to go to,” Silco offered. It was vague enough to barely be informative, but Vander seemed pleased nonetheless.

“See? Was that so hard?” Vander teased. 

He was still bent close to Silco and his breath ghosted over the side of Silco’s neck making him shiver. Then Vander’s fingers were tugging at the neck of his shirt, pulling the fabric down to reveal the hickey he’d left on Silco’s throat. Silco jerked away, pulling the fabric back up and turned to glare at Vander, but the dark look in his eye instead turned his mouth dry. The other man looked two steps away from devouring Silco and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist if he tried.

Vander’s phone buzzed then, and the moment was broken.

“Gotta go,” Vander said regretfully. “Maybe I’ll see you this weekend,” he added casually as he adjusted his bag over his shoulder. 

Silco didn’t say anything, lips flattening into a line as he watched Vander turn and disappear between the stacks.

— — —

Vander’s parting words in the library echoed in Silco’s head over the next few days. What did he mean ‘maybe I’ll see you this weekend’? There wasn’t a home-match this weekend, so no party at the clubhouse, as far as Silco was aware, and Silco hadn’t made any plans with Felicia. That only left seeing Silco in town, which had never happened before. 

And even then, Silco had only mentioned going to a thrift store. That was hardly a guarantee that he would go. And it wasn’t as if there was only one thrift store in all of Zaun. What was Vander going to do? Visit each of them one by one and hope that he ran into Silco in the process? 

Although, when he considered Vander’s history of persistence, the idea didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility. But Vander had to realize that it would seem like borderline stalker behaviour, and Silco had a hard time imagining that Vander would be that kind of guy. He considered asking Felicia about it by the end of the week, when they were body doubling each other on a video call. 

“Hey, Fel,” Silco said, poking his sewing needle through his current project—sewing a patch to the knee area of a pair of jeans. She grunted to let him know he had her attention without looking at the screen. “Does Vander go into town often?” Not looking at the screen also gave him plausible deniability that she was not giving him a look. 

“Oh? Why do you ask?” Her tone was overtly teasing and he could hear that she was suppressing a fucking giggle.

”Nevermind.” Silco kept his eyes on the needle, carefully joining the patch with his pants. Before she could really get momentum, Silco could hear her door open and he sighed. At least with Connol there she wouldn’t give him endless shit about his asking that particular question. “Hey, Connol.”

“What? Oh! Hey, baby! Silco, how did you know he was here?” He glanced up in time to see the ceiling, Felicia having tossed her phone to the side in her haste to greet her lover boy. 

“Who else would it possibly be?” Silco muttered. He picked up on the faint sound of kissing, so he stuck his needle into his jeans temporarily and quickly tapped his phone to end the call.

He could ask Sevika, but he quickly decided against it when he remembered that she may have won the rugby team’s betting pool.

Even though the rational part of his brain was certain he wouldn’t be seeing Vander this weekend, he had a feeling he would be checking over his shoulder the entire time anyway.

Chapter Text

Silco let himself sleep in on Saturday morning, although he was pretty sure his body hadn’t let him wake up for a few extra hours. After days of late nights and being fuelled by nothing more than coffee and cigarettes, his exhaustion had more than caught up with him. Vander’s unexpected stay over and how well he’d slept then was a testament to that fact. His erratic sleep schedule and consistent flirting with insomnia already had him by the neck. Sometimes he pushed through, studying into the wee hours of the night, but not when he had a full day of nothing scheduled the next day. Best to save those all nighters for when they really mattered. 

Finals were going to kill him.

He was still lounging in bed after a quick visit to the small common area on his floor for the weakest cup of coffee in all of Runeterra. Even though it had been a few days, Vander’s sandalwood and bergamot scent clung faintly to his bed sheets, and as he lay there in the late morning sunlight that was cutting through his half-closed blinds, he pressed his nose into the fabric and breathed deeply. 

It was the perfect combination of sensations to lull him into a light doze. It was infuriating how comforting the smell was, how it instantly relaxed him. If only Vander could just stand there and look pretty, keep his mouth shut, and smell nice, then maybe Silco could feel like this when he actually saw the man in person. But then, he hadn’t been as annoying lately—for a while, really. Since Piltover maybe. He just couldn’t get his head around it all, why Vander insisted on being so—so Vander! All tall and handsome and not a complete meathead jock. And he seemed to care about Silco’s wellbeing, and people didn’t just do that kind of thing. There had to be some kind of ulterior motive, or a shoe dangling above Silco’s head, ready to drop at a moment's notice.

It was also possible that Vander was just a decent person, but Silco couldn’t wrap his head around that. The fact was, Vander’s persistent interest in giving a shit about Silco was wearing Silco’s defenses thin, and he hated that. He hated that it was so hard to actually hate Vander more.

As he breathed in Vander’s scent again, lying in that warm sunbeam, curled up under his blankets, he closed his eyes, remembering the way it felt having Vander on top of him, his weight pressing Silco into the mattress, the way his stubble had scratched against Silco’s skin. He shivered. It was almost embarrassing how much he wanted to kiss Vander again.

Would it actually be so bad if Vander happened to show up while he was in town? Felicia had to see something in him, right? She was a social person and could get along with most anyone, but she was discerning enough about the people she chose to actually spend her time with. She might be more outgoing than Silco, but they both didn’t take bullshit. Maybe he should try and see what all the fuss was about. Maybe restricting himself was just making Vander seem all the more appealing. If Vander was just as Silco suspected, underneath a shiny, cheap veneer, he should give himself a chance to be sure. 

At the very least, being friendly towards Vander lately hadn’t bitten him the ass.

Yet.

Eventually, he decided to drag himself out of bed and away from his thoughts, slowly getting ready for the day. Lest had texted him the other day to let him know she had some new stock that she thought he’d love. He’d been grinding himself to the bone working on assignments lately. He deserved a break and to visit with a friend.

— — —

Lest and Found was located in the Bridgewaltz District, one of the more affluent areas of Zaun. It was, essentially, the cultural mecca of the city, crammed into a four-block radius. There was no shortage of fashion boutiques, galleries, clubs, bars, and restaurants, all stacked upon one another and fighting for attention. It wasn’t typically a part of town Silco went to, much preferring the smaller, quieter second-hand shops a few streets away, but something had taken over his senses one day in freshman year. He had been walking along, sipping an overpriced coffee that he really shouldn’t have wasted his money on, before stumbling upon an understated window featuring his now well-loved leather jacket. Lest had caught him practically slack-jawed on the sidewalk and all but dragged him inside. 

In the time since, the two had actually become decently close friends. Amongst her immaculate taste, she had a sharp wit that matched Silco’s jagged edges. It quickly became a habit for her to keep an eye out for items she thought Silco might like, often selling them to him at a steep discount. Friends and family, she’d always tell him with a wink.

Catching the bus into town was routine at this point. He stood in the aisle, all of the seats already taken. Without meaning to, he kept an eye out for Vander throughout, walking to the bus stop, waiting for said bus, and now standing amongst his fellow Zaunites in case the rugby player happened to be nearby–as though the man was possible to miss with the way he towered over most everybody. Worrying about Vander made what would be a normal outing for Silco feel like some illicit adventure, like sneaking out of the house without your parents catching you. As the bus pulled away from the curb, he put in his ear buds and put on some Fish Bat to listen to for the duration of the ride. 

He took the bus one stop beyond the Bridgewaltz District, getting off to visit his preferred record shop and then deciding to make his way to Lest and Found on foot. It was normally cool this late in the year, but today was unseasonably warm. He had a jacket with him in case it got cold later, but for the time being it was slung over his shoulder as he walked the few blocks to Lest and Found, the bell above the door jingling lightly as he stepped inside.

Entering the shop felt like a breath of fresh air after so many weeks in stifling libraries. Lest kept the shop eclectic without feeling cluttered; various displays and racks featuring second hand clothes and other items from around Runeterra. A moment later, Lest appeared from the back room. She looked good as always, her head wrapped in a silk scarf, carefully woven between her large fox-like ears. Today she wore a sapphire monochrome outfit, her blouse hanging artfully, showing off her spotted shoulders and chest. The colour made her amber eyes seem almost like they were glowing. 

“Silco!” She was always so glad to see him. It used to be overwhelming when he first started frequenting the shop, but he’d grown a resistance to it over time. He allowed her to wrap him in a tight hug that he returned briefly before she let him go. “How is school going?”

Silco let out a quick huff of breath. “Busy. How is it that midterms just ended and it feels like we’re heading into finals season? My professors are sadists for making everything due around the same time.” She rolled her eyes at his dramatics and led him over to the counter, the tip of her tail swishing elegantly behind her. He followed behind with a small smile. “But I thought I deserved a break, and your message seemed like a good excuse to get away.”

“I’m delighted that you let me distract you from your woes,” she replied. “Come, let me show you what I’ve put aside for you.”

Lest stepped behind the counter and placed a small pile of items on top. “Tell me more about what’s going on at school,” she prompted as she sorted through them. Silco set his bags aside and leaned on the counter as well, watching her process. 

“I don’t know why you’re so interested,” Silco mused. She had to have better things to worry about that Silco’s school life. 

She snorted but managed to make the sound delicate. “I haven’t seen you since the semester started, and unlike so many of your peers, you are interesting. So, spill. Are you seeing anyone? You’re not still hooking up with Marcus are you?”

Silco rubbed at his throat remembering the hickey that Marcus had left a couple months back, the way Vander’s face had gone a bit surprised and then blank when he’d seen it at the clubhouse. “No, not Marcus. Not recently,” he admitted. 

Lest hummed, but let it drop for now, instead shifting focus to the items she had set aside for Silco. “I just got these in and immediately thought of you. There are some really lovely investment pieces, mostly basics that are made very well, and then this.” She pulled out a jacket from the pile, holding it up to show it off to him. 

“Oh,” Silco sighed, reaching out to touch the fabric. It looked as though someone had taken the various parts of a trench coat and peacoat and mashed them into a singular garment. The wide lapels featured small brass buttons, and epaulets adorned the shoulders. 

“Right?” The material felt heavy, suitable for keeping warm in the winter,  with leather panels reinforcing the shoulders and sides. It wasn’t black, but grey didn’t feel like the right color either. It was the color of shadows, the vast depths of the mines that stretched under Zaun.

”Lest, this is phenomenal.”

”I know! Go try it on.” She filled his arms and shooed him towards the small dressing room, little more than three walls with a thick, heavy curtain suspended across the front. He slipped behind the fabric and started changing, considering his options.

“So if you’re not seeing Marcus, is there someone else?”

He should really stop forgetting just how devious Lest could be. It was one of his favorite things about her. Distract him with lovely, shiny things, lower his defenses, and then—bam!—hit him with the hard questions. “Nicely played, Lest.”

Silco hesitated in telling Lest about Vander. He didn’t want the other man to dominate his free day any more than he already had, but Lest was a (relatively) neutral third party he could vent to, so he launched into the story of Vander’s persistent attempts to befriend him, the incident in Piltover, and their recent hook up.

“He sounds nice,” Lest said through the curtain of the dressing room as Silco tried on a pair of slacks, cut slim against his legs. They looked amazing. “What’s the issue?”

“He’s just…presumptuous, I guess? Did I tell you that when we were in Piltover he bought me a drink without asking and then just took the drink I had?”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I panicked and ordered something I didn’t like, and Felicia, traitor that she is, told him.”

Silco could hear the frown in Lest’s voice. “I think I’m missing something.”

Silco made a frustrated noise as he pushed the curtain open and stepped out. “I didn’t ask him to do that—he didn’t even offer, he just showed up and decided to interfere when he didn’t have the right.” He looked at himself in the wall length mirror, smoothing the clothes with gentle hands.

“He didn’t have the right to what? Notice that you didn’t like what you were drinking, buy you something he thought you would like based on information he had about your tastes, and drink the drink you weren’t enjoying anyway?” She laughed and stepped behind him and shook him gently by the shoulders. “If you don’t want him, I’ll have him—as long as he’s interested in trans girls that will outlive him.”

Silco frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror. He knew he was being stupid—telling Lest may have been a last ditch effort to get someone to support his side of things—but it didn’t make accepting the fact of it any easier. 

“I don’t think I get it, Silco,” she said. “After hearing you bitch about Marcus being a piss poor hookup that doesn’t give a shit about what might make you happy—You make this guy sound like some boogeyman when it seems like he just wants to get to know you. Horrid thing for him to do, I know.” She stepped in front of the mirror and patted Silco affectionately on the cheek.

Silco scowled at her. “He’s practically a monster.” 

She shrugged and swiftly changed the topic to his clothes. “Well, these look amazing on you. The pants make your legs look like they go on forever. The shirt is fine. A good basic, but it needs to be styled.” She reached for an item on the counter and pressed it into Silco’s hands. “Try this, but on its own.”

It was a sleeveless vest. Leather with hand-painted details. There were studded spikes on the shoulders. It was just  far enough outside his comfort zone that he raised an eyebrow at her, rather than taking the garment. “Really?”

Lest gave him a look. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Silco scowled deeper. He did, completely, unfortunately. “Of course.”

“So try it on!”

Silco rolled his eyes but obediently stepped back into the dressing room, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He hung the vest on the small hook available and considered it. It was the missing sleeves that threw him, honestly. It wasn’t as if his arms were anything impressive, so he didn’t usually dress with them as the focus of his wardrobe. But Lest was rarely wrong…

The bell jingled over the door as Silco slipped out of the shirt he was wearing, replacing it with the vest and stepping back to consider his reflection in the dressing room mirror now that Lest had another customer. It fit perfectly, butter soft and conforming perfectly to his torso. Almost like it was made for him.

The shoulders were only a touch wider than his own, making his slim frame seem to have more of a taper down to his waist. He could wear it over a shirt, or even a hoodie. He found that he actually liked the spikes as well; they didn’t look cartoonish like he’d expected. At least he could be fairly confident that Lest wouldn’t say “I told you so”.

+ + +

If Vander was being completely honest with himself, he felt a bit like a stalker as he walked around the Bridgewaltz District. He didn’t come into town very often, too busy between classes and rugby, and it had become a bit too gentrified for his taste. He grew up not too far from there in the Entresol District, and he couldn’t help but feel Bridewaltz had lost a bit of its personality for the sake of looking more appealing to outsiders. He couldn’t really imagine Silco frequenting the shops there either, but that just highlighted how little he knew about the other man.

He walked around, keeping an eye out for the store Sevika had mentioned when he had caved and approached her after practice the day before to ask if she happened to know about anywhere in town Silco might frequent. The look she had given him had been exceedingly smug, and she didn’t offer the information freely. To his mild horror, she’d asked him outright if the two of them had finally hooked up, and when Vander hadn’t answered she’d crossed her arms over her chest with a knowing smile.

“I take it no one else knows, then.” Vander had only been able to nod, confirming Sevika’s read of the situation. “I can collect on the betting pool when you two finally make it public.” That was something Vander appreciated about Sevika; she wasn’t a gossip, at least not the way the rest of their teammates were. She knew how to be tactful and played her cards close to the vest. While he still wasn’t exactly thrilled about the betting pool, out of everyone who could have won, he felt oddly relieved that it had been her. “There’s a place in Bridgewaltz,” Sevika had told him. “Lest and Found. If he goes anywhere, it’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Vander had said with palpable relief.

“Don’t think you don’t owe me something for this.” 

Vander wasn’t sure if she meant for the information, her silence, or both, but he was willing to give Sevika whatever she wanted if it saved him hours of wandering aimlessly around town. It didn’t help him feel any less like a creep as he looked at sign after sign, traversing block after block until he finally caught sight of the store in question.

Chewing his lip, he glanced around at what was nearby. There was a coffee shop half a block down. He wasn’t stalling, it was just…maybe his unannounced arrival would be softened by not showing up empty handed. 

As he entered the busy shop, Vander realised that he didn’t know how Silco took his coffee, only that he drank it–a lot of it. The line ahead of him gave him time to consider the possibilities. At least at the speakeasy in Piltover he had at least an idea of what Silco liked enough to order confidently, but here he felt like he was flying blind. 

He looked up at the menu, immediately scratching anything with excessive syrups, sweetness, or whipped cream; he just couldn’t imagine Silco liking sugary things. A drip coffee felt like a decent option, something akin to what Vander would order himself, but did Silco like any add-ins, like cream, or cinnamon? He could see Silco nursing something like a chai, spiced and warming, but maybe not a chai latte, unless it was a dirty chai latte? He could also go with something like a flat white. Before he knew it, he was standing at the register, still at a loss.

“Hi, what can I get you?” The girl standing behind the counter was chipper, giving Vander a friendly smile. Shit. He still didn’t know!

“Uh, I’ll get a dark roast—medium, and a mediummm…” he drew out the last sound, bouncing a bit when he looked at the menu again. “You know what, two medium dark roasts.” That was probably the safest bet; if Silco hated it, Vander would just drink it. He gave his name, quickly paid and stepped to the side to wait for his drinks. 

The extra time gave him the space to start to worry again. What if Silco hadn’t gone to the thrift store at all? Or what if he went tomorrow? Vander really hadn’t had a plan here besides “see Silco as soon as humanly possible”, and he was really beginning to see the flaws in his thinking.

“Two medium dark roasts for Vander!” one of the baristas called. Vander grabbed the coffees and one of the cardboard carriers before stopping by the small station with cream and such. He doctored his coffee to his liking—bit of cream, one sugar—and ended up grabbing a handful of creamers and sugar packets in a fit of panic.

There really was no more stalling once he left the coffee shop. It was either go into Lest and Found, or chicken out and go back to campus. “C’mon Oreson, get it together,” he muttered to himself, heading back down the block towards Lest and Found.

From the outside, Vander could already tell why Sevika had recommended it to him; the aesthetic was a mix of styles he could easily see Silco liking, rough and tumble, but with an underlying elegance. The window display was artfully curated, a couple of styled mannequins showing outfits that were a mix of masculine and feminine, bold elements balanced by understated options. 

Holding the tray of coffees in one hand, he opened the door and stepped inside, a small bell overhead ringing to signal his entrance. As his eyes scanned over the small storefront he became exceedingly aware of how much he was not the desired clientele. Dressed in a worn plain t-shirt, with his letterman jacket and a pair of jeans, he was about as basic as a person could be, and the items in the store were for people who knew about fashion and how to style themselves.

A feminine looking Vastaya with large ears approached, a small, friendly smile on her face. “Hello,” she said, tone low and smoky. “Welcome to Lest and Found. Is there anything I can help you find today?”

Vander did not say “I’m looking for Silco,” but it was a near thing. Fortunately, he was saved from asking or coming up with a bullshit cover story when a curtain opened near the far wall and the man himself stepped out. 

Silco was still looking at something in the dressing room, a mirror perhaps. He was dressed in a pair of slim fitting pants that made his long legs look even longer, like some kind of dancer, and his upper body was wrapped in a sleeveless leather vest that fit Silco’s thin frame like a glove. He couldn’t help but stare, mouth falling open as he took in the lightly muscled shape of Silco’s arms and small waist. Vander was pretty sure that he’d be able to fit both his hands around that waist. The only word he could bring to mind as he took in the sight of him was, “Wow.”

The Vastaya followed his gaze and chuckled softly. “You must be Vander,” she said, just for Vander to hear.

Vander blinked, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from Silco. “Huh? Yeah. How did you–”

Silco spun at the sound of his voice. “Vander?” he said, tone a mix of surprise and incredulity. The front lapels of the vest created a tantalizing “v” at Silco’s collarbones. Vander wanted to run his hands over the decorative stitching down the front of the vest, following it like a breadcrumb trail to his hips. “What are you doing here?”

Vander forced himself to blink, shaking his head a bit like a dog. “Said I might see you this weekend, didn’t I?” He held up the coffee tray in his hand. “I brought you a coffee.”

Silco didn’t move, staring with wide eyes at Vander across the store like he didn’t truly believe what he was seeing. Vander thought he could just maybe see his face and neck taking on a pink tinge. 

“How did you find me?”

“Uh…” Vander grimaced. He didn’t exactly want to throw Sevika under the bus for spilling the beans when asked, so he offered a weak, “Lucky guess?” Silco shifted, crossing his arms and giving Vander a look that clearly said he was not buying his bullshit.

Vander could feel the Vestaya watching them, his hair prickling at the back of his neck. He suppressed a shiver. “Does it really matter? I’m here now.”

“Yes, you are,” Silco replied.

“I’m Lest, by the way,” the Vastaya said, gently touching Vander’s arm. Her cat-like eyes were mischievous. Vander had the distinct feeling that she was enjoying their awkward interaction. “Silco’s told me quite a lot about you.” Silco shot her a venomous look, but didn’t say anything in defense of himself. He was getting redder by the second.

“Vander. Nice to meet you.” He tilted his head in her direction in place of shaking her hand and offered his most winning smile.

“The pleasure is mine. So thoughtful of you to bring Silco a coffee.” Lest gave Silco a pointed look. “Here, you can put them on the counter.” She gestured toward the register, a narrow counter that already had a small pile of merchandise and a bag. Vander shrugged and followed her lead, giving Silco a grin.

Finally Silco seemed spurred into motion and he marched over to them. Vander nudged over the second coffee for Silco, who looked at it for a moment before taking it. He didn’t immediately throw it in Vander’s face, which felt like a win. “Sorry, I, uh, I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I just got it black.” He gestured to the handful of creamers and sugar packets he’d panic-grabbed on his way out of the coffee shop piled in the middle of the carry tray. “But I grabbed these, just in case.”

“I’m amazed that you didn’t just guess the way you usually do,” Silco snarked even as he took several sugar packets from the pile and proceeded to rip them open to dump into the coffee. Lest rolled her eyes.

That was…so much sugar. He mentally kicked himself for immediately scratching off anything sweet as a possibility. But Silco did seem like a black coffee kind of guy. It went with his whole vibe. At least Silco had only taken sugar from the tray, so he’d been half right. He kept a mental tally of the number of sugars Silco added to his cup. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Vander said. 

“Bold of you to assume there will be a next time,” Silco muttered before taking a sip from his cup. He grimaced, just slightly, but Vander hoped it was because the coffee was still hot. If it was still too bitter after the sugar Silco had added, Vander might have to worry about Silco’s blood sugar.

”So, Vander, are you looking for something specific,” Lest said suggestively, eyes sliding towards Silco as she leaned forward onto the counter, ”or just window shopping?”

+ + +

Silco was going to kill Lest. He tried to shoot her a glare, but her attention was firmly on Vander as she asked him about what he was shopping for. He couldn’t fathom why she seemed so ready to continue his little ruse of “just happening to run into Silco”. 

“Oh, no, I’m not really fashion conscious,” Vander said. Silco tried to recall if he had ever seen Vander in anything besides jeans, t-shirts, or his rugby uniform. Even today he was dressed simply in an aging white, waffle textured henley over jeans. Apparently he had also succumbed to the unusually high temperature, based on the fact that he wasn’t currently wearing his jacket. Silco hated that he looked so good with his lightly windswept hair and a soft flush on his cheeks. “I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Nonsense,” Lest said, looking Vander over with a sharper eye this time. At least Vander had the good sense to be nervous, glancing over towards Silco with an expression that said “help”. Lest circled him as she considered. “You are a bit larger than most of my customers, so it might take me a minute to find something that will fit you, but I’m certain I’ve got something around.” 

“Wait, what—“

“You two talk amongst yourselves for a bit while I take a look.” She winked at Silco as she disappeared into the back. Despite her insistence on entertaining the façade, thus prolonging his torture, Silco wished she hadn’t left as soon as she was gone. Vander stared after her before he turned his attention back on Silco. 

Vander took a sip from his coffee cup and offered Silco a smile. “You really look…Wow,” he said again, repeating the sentiment he’d had when he first entered the store. His eyes went a bit dark as they trailed down Silco’s body, tracing over him like a physical touch. Silco felt his arms break out in goosebumps. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. He had enough ego to know he looked good, but the way Vander’s eyes lingered on him made his stomach flip.

“I don’t know,” Silco replied slowly, returning to the mirror. He turned this way and that, assessing himself, adjusting the vest and smoothing his fingers over the stitching. “I’m not sure it really suits me.”

“It suits you,” Vander said, quick to assure him. Silco opened his stance just slightly to angle himself so he could see Vander in the mirror behind him. He felt a thrill at the way the other man’s eyes were unwaveringly fixed on him. It was almost intoxicating, having such singular attention on him, stoking a low warmth below his navel. 

“Yeah?” Silco asked again. He was fishing for compliments at this point, and Vander was quick to take the bait. He set his coffee down on the counter and approached, stepping close behind Silco at the mirror. He could feel how warm Vander was even through the vest and it practically burned him along his bare arms. 

Vander held Silco’s eyes in the mirror. He saw hunger there, similar to the library, and Silco wondered if Vander was remembering the same thing. If Vander was thinking about the marks he’d left the last time as his eyes studied Silco’s collarbones in the mirror.

Silco raised a curious eyebrow at Vander in the mirror—a question, or a challenge. Maybe even an invitation. Vander raised his hands and slid them under Silco’s arms, letting his fingertips skim over the embroidered front of the vest. His touch was light enough that Silco could barely feel it through the leather, but he still couldn’t help his quiet inhale. Down and down those fingers went until Vander’s hands were at his waist, delicate in spite of their size. Silco had a half hysterical thought that maybe Vander would be able to circle his waist with just his fingers and felt his breath stutter out of him. He watched as Vander’s hands moved, attempting to do just that.

“Not quite,” Silco muttered, attention laser focused on the scant inch of material between Vander’s middle fingers. He leaned back to steady himself against Vander’s broad chest, and had the distinct pleasure of watching as Vander’s eyes went dark and he licked his lips. 

“You’re in luck, Vander.” That was the only warning they got as Lest stepped back into the main shop. Silco lurched forward out of Vander’s hands as they sprang apart like scalded cats. “I’ve found a few things that I think just might work.” Vander immediately returned to the counter. He smoothed a hand through his hair quickly before taking a long drink of coffee that was probably on just the wrong side of tepid. Lest cast a knowing look between the two of them as she approached the counter. 

“Oh, cool. Thanks,” Vander said a bit breathlessly. There was a spot of pink visible high on his cheeks. Silco smoothed his hand down the front of the vest, trying to control his own suddenly-heavy breathing. He felt like he was on fire as he disappeared back into the dressing room, pulling the curtain closed tightly behind him. 

He used the privacy to take several grounding breaths, purposefully ignoring his reflection. He could feel how red his face was—he didn’t need to see it. 

Silco was skinny, sure, but he wasn’t a small guy. He was taller than average, especially considering how close to the Sump he had grown up. Vander was just that big. Silco felt dwarfed in his arms, like a strong breeze would knock him over if Vander stepped away. His back felt frigid without Vander’s warmth against him. 

Nothing had happened, not really, and yet Silco’s fingers shook as he changed out of the clothes he was wearing and back into his original outfit. He busied himself with looking over the items Lest had given him to try on. He would take the trousers, the jacket, and—fuck, the vest. Hopefully Lest would be generous with her kindness today; he really didn’t have that kind of money to be throwing around. The pants were a good option if he needed to be slightly more formal, and the coat would be good to have over the winter. It would save him time with layering up to keep warm. And the vest…

Well, that was proving to be a little more difficult to rationalize, but he sure as shit wouldn’t be leaving it behind.

Silco was feeling slightly more put-together when he emerged from the dressing room. Unfortunately for his blood pressure, he got to watch Lest helping Vander into a brown jacket—leather, maybe. It looked well-worn, a certain softness in the sleeves, but sturdy, like it had a few years left in it yet. As he got closer, he could see that it was more likely a duck cloth. The coat’s storm flaps on the shoulders made Vander look even more broad than he already was. Those same hands that had skated across Silco’s body fiddled with the coat’s brass buttons. It was well constructed and fit beautifully, hugging Vander’s arms as he twisted to check the mobility. Silco’s fingers itched to touch it.

“What do you think, Silco?” Lest asked, her knowing smile sharp. Vander finally looked over and held out his arms, opening himself for assessment.

Silco swallowed. “No need to fish for compliments, Lest. Your eye is perfect, as usual,” he replied. Vander looked surprised, as if he wasn’t expecting Silco to like it. As much as admitting it made Silco burn, there was no use denying the fact that the jacket was made for Vander.

“High praise,” Lest purred. Silco could see the tip of her tail flicking, just as smug as the rest of her. “Here, Vander,” she said, helping him out of the jacket before handing him another couple items. “Go try these on for us.” Vander looked like he was going to object, but then he quietly accepted his fate and shuffled behind the curtain.

“You’re an idiot, Silco,” Lest said quietly, no doubt waiting for Vander to change so that he was less likely to hear her. Silco swallowed hard, unable to think of a single reason why she was wrong.

A moment later the curtain opened again and Vander emerged wearing a blue shirt. It was an asymmetrical design, the front stretching across his chest and closing at his left shoulder. It was longer than the average shirt, hanging just below the hip, and with the right outfit, it would look amazing. But Silco could see how stiffly Vander was holding himself. The collar was snug against his throat since he’d closed all the snaps, clearly not knowing how to pull off something other than a t-shirt. 

“I don’t know that I did this right,” Vander said with a grimace. Lest made a considering sound and stepped forward, undoing the shoulder snaps and adjusting how the fabric hung on his shoulder. She stepped back and smiled. What had been closed off and stiff was now softer and just the right amount of loose on Vander. Even over plain jeans, the shirt was great. It emphasized the slope of his shoulders, the open neckline allowing a tantalizing glimpse of chest hair. Silco felt his mouth go dry.

“There. You look wonderful,” Lest said. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders again to help settle the fabric, and as Vander relaxed, it almost looked like she was brushing the tension off of him. He shifted a bit, getting more confident as he slid his hands into his pockets. Silco could see Lest coaching Vander on how to stand, but he couldn’t hear anything over the way his heartbeat was pounding in his ears at the casual way Lest touched Vander’s arms, jealous that she could. “What do you think?”

Vander considered himself in the mirror. “It’s nice. I’d never pick something like this out for myself.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Lest said. 

Vander chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. What do you think, Silco?”

Silco jerked as Vander and Lest both turned to look at him. He was hyper aware of just how warm he felt, how he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of the skin at the base of Vander’s throat. “It looks good,” Silco croaked out, offering a small thumbs up before he reached for his coffee cup and took a long drink.

“Let’s see the other one,” Lest said and ushered Vander back behind the curtain. She was smirking when she turned back to Silco, fully aware of what she was doing to him. He hated that she knew him so well. 

Another moment passed and Vander re-emerged, this time in an off-white fitted shirt. The body of the shirt was embellished with blue stitching in widely spaced vertical lines that served to make his torso look longer and matched a wide, scooped neckline. It brought out the blue in Vander’s eyes. The long sleeves clung to the muscles of Vander’s arms, the hem stretching as he pulled up the sleeves unconsciously. 

Surely Lest was trying to kill him, putting Vander in this.

“This one looks wonderful, too!” Lest proclaimed. “What do you think?”

“I think I like this one more than the other one,” Vander said. Silco wasn’t surprised. This shirt was a bit more on the safe side, but it didn’t look any less good than the tunic had. 

“It brings out your eyes,” Silco said without meaning to, and two sets of eyes, one blue-grey, one amber, swung in his direction, pinning him in place. Maybe the ground would open up and swallow Silco whole, into the bowels of Zaun. 

“He’s right,” Lest agreed, giving Silco another knowing smile. “It’s definitely a ‘yes’.” 

“I don’t know,” Vander hedged. “I don’t have a lot of money to spend on something this nice. And the jacket…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lest said. “You get the friend of a friend discount. What about you, Silco? Did you decide what you liked?” Vander ducked behind the curtain as soon as her attention left him, and Silco sent up a small prayer of thanks to whoever was listening.

The price Lest charged the two of them was a pittance of what the items were worth. Even knowing that she wouldn’t charge him full price, it was a level of charity that made Silco’s skin itch. He tried to argue for a higher price, but Lest flatly refused to take a single cent more than what she asked for.

”How do you make any money?” Silco grumbled, pulling out his cash. Lest snorted.

“I don’t offer the friends and family discount to just anyone, Silco,” she replied and the affection in her voice made Silco’s lungs squirm at the thought of which of the two categories he fell into. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Vander,” Lest said as they collected their things. “Please come and visit me again sometime. Don’t be a stranger, Silco.”

Once they were out of the store, Silco felt like he could breathe again, although he was keenly aware of Vander's presence next to him, that same warmth radiating from him while they stood side-by-side. Silco sighed, hefting his bags. He should just go. Somewhere else. Somewhere to get a moment to breathe away from Vander’s sandalwood and bergamot scent, to clear his head and get himself together. Yes, that was the right course of action. He would simply bid Vander a good afternoon and go about his business.

“So, where to next?” Vander asked, just as Silco was about to execute his brilliantly smooth exit.

Silco stared up at Vander, his brain struggling to process Vander’s question. “What?”

“I said, ‘where to next?’,” Vander repeated as though the issue was that Silco hadn’t heard the question. At least he had the decency to merely look amused at Silco’s reaction instead of calling attention to it. Like it was already a foregone conclusion that Vander would be going somewhere else with him. But that would imply that Vander didn’t have anything else planned, and Silco was not currently in the headspace to examine what that could possibly mean.

“You’re not coming with me,” Silco said, with far less confidence than he would have liked or intended. 

“Of course I am,” Vander said, shrugging, oblivious to Silco’s internal torment. Because Vander had deliberately come into town to see Silco, after all. He obviously intended to follow Silco around like a lost puppy. A huge, presumptuous puppy, or a giant duckling that had imprinted on him despite Silco’s best efforts to chase him off. 

“You seriously don’t have anything better to do?” Silco asked, turning on his heel and starting off without checking the direction. The direction wasn’t important; he just needed to distance himself from this nonsense. Heated stares and lingering hands, shared memories of a splendid hookup, were all one thing, but spending time together just because. They weren’t even friends.

But you could be a voice that sounded an awful lot like Felicia said in the back of his mind.

Vander grinned, quickly falling into step with Silco. “Nope. Completely open schedule. And I’m having a great time. Who knew you had friends,” he teased. He just kept coming back, wearing down Silco’s resolve until he was spending his free Saturday morning wondering if it would be so bad if Vander did appear? With his easy smiles, the way he looked like this was a game to him, like he knew that he’d managed to worm his way under Silco’s skin and was just making himself comfortable there. 

“Fine. It’s not my business if you want to waste your time,” Silco huffed, trying to sound annoyed and falling just a bit short of the mark. Vander gave him a blinding grin and slung his arm around Silco’s shoulders. Like that was something they did, like they were a couple of friends—or maybe just a couple. Just the thought of what other people would assume by looking at them had Silco breaking out in goosebumps. 

He could practically taste Vander's smug triumph, cloyingly sweet and tempting him to do something very unwise. Like shoving him against a wall and kissing him. Or punching him. Right now it felt like a sixty-forty split, but he couldn’t tell in whose favor. He wasn’t too delusional to admit to himself that punching Vander wasn’t really what he wanted, but rather an attempt to create some distance between himself and these unruly feelings. 

Instead of following that impulse, he busied himself with digging into his pockets for his cigarettes and a lighter. The nicotine would probably ease his desperation, or so he told himself, shoving the filter between his lips and flicking the flint wheel to light it. Nothing. He tried again, then again, the lighter sparking uselessly each time. Seriously, what had he fucking done to deserve this? 

“Need some help?” Vander asked, turning so that Silco was almost tucked against him, creating a shield against an almost nonexistent breeze. 

“I can light my own cigarette. Besides, it’s not because of the wind,” Silco muttered stubbornly, refusing to give Vander the satisfaction of helping him. He was ready to just give up after three attempts—he probably just needed a new lighter—but before he could sigh in reluctant defeat, Vander plucked the lighter from between his fingers, ignoring Silco’s sound of protest and flicking the flint. The lighter caught immediately, allowing Vander to hold up the flame for Silco, who glared first at the traitorous bit of plastic and then up at Vander as he set the cigarette within it, cheeks hollowing as he inhaled.

Vander looked far too pleased with himself, so Silco blew out the first puff of smoke directly into his face, stepping out from the cage of Vander’s body and continued walking without waiting for Vander. He felt a petty thrill of smugness as he heard Vander coughing behind him, but it didn’t take long for Vander to catch up, easily falling into stride beside him. 

Silco was really starting to get tired of this song and dance. Vander wasn’t even doing anything. “Honestly, why the fuck—“ Silco was cut off by Vander abruptly steering him into the alley they were passing. Before Silco could protest, Vander was pressing him against the alley wall, brick rough against his back. Vander plucked the cigarette from Silco’s fingers, putting it between his own lips to take a drag. Silco could only gape at him, watching Vander staring at his lips, staring back at the way the smoke seemed to sit suspended in Vander’s mouth as he bent down and kissed him. It was barely anything, a soft press of lips, a gentle gasp, a moment of the same smoke filling their lungs, and then Vander stepped away, exiting the alley, and leaving Silco reeling.

It took Silco a few seconds for his brain to get back online before he was charging after Vander, racing to catch up. Vander still had his fucking cigarette, the asshole. “Hey! Hey!” he shouted, drawing looks from a couple passersby. “Hey!”

Vander slowed his pace to allow Silco to catch up to him. Silco came around in front of him, jabbing his finger into Vander’s chest. “You can’t just do that!” Silco said. He could feel his face burning.

“Do what?” Vander asked as though he was asking about the weather. The upward tilt of the corners of his mouth showed he knew exactly what he’d done. He took another drag from Silco’s stolen cigarette, and Silco was momentarily distracted by the way those soft pink lips wrapped around the filter, the way the smoke curled as he pushed his mouth to the side to avoid blowing smoke in Silco’s face. 

Focus, damnit! “You can’t just—just kiss me like that!”

“Oh?” Vander said with a smirk. “Funny. Seems like I just did.” He moved to continue walking, but Silco was having none of it. He scrambled to grab Vander’s arm, his fingers barely wrapping halfway around his bicep. 

“You can’t just kiss me like that and not follow through,” Silco continued, and that had Vander stopping completely, turning to look at Silco with lidded eyes. He licked his lips slowly, flicking the slowly smoldering cigarette onto the sidewalk. 

“Let’s go,” Vander said, and he was wrapping his hand around Silco’s shoulders again, guiding him with a sense of urgency.

“Where are we going?” Silco demanded.

“Bus stop,” Vander replied. Silco looked up and realized that they were indeed headed that direction. His skin was burning at every point of contact with Vander’s body, and he was sure that everyone already congregated at the bus stop could tell as they joined the ranks. Vander bent to speak low against Silco’s ear. “And then back to campus. Somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”

The promise in Vander’s words had a shiver racing down his spine he was sure Vander could feel and he could only nod dumbly in agreement. 

Chapter Text

The ride back to campus felt impossibly long. The bus wasn’t particularly full, but it seemed like they stopped at every stop, hit every red light, dragging the anticipation out longer and longer. Vander had crowded Silco into a seat by the window, their thighs pressed tightly together, Vander’s arm stretched along the back of the seat the way he’d wanted to when they’d come back from Piltover. Every point of contact between them was electric. Silco had his hands folded in his lap, eyes focused out the window. To a casual observer he probably looked relaxed, but Vander could feel how tense he was against him. In all honesty, he kind of looked like an agitated cat. It was only the way that he was pressing himself back into Vander’s side just as firmly that let Vander know that he was on board with this. 

His decision to try and coordinate a run-in with Silco had paid off spectacularly, insofar as he’d learned more about Silco in the span of a couple of hours than he had since they’d met at the start of the semester. It only served to pique his interest in the other man and stoke his desire to knock down some of his walls with his bare hands. But now they were on their way back to campus, Vander was not going to waste this opportunity by pestering Silco with questions.

He lost track of how long they were trapped in this purgatory, barely containing his frustration when he saw people at nearly every approaching bus stop along the route. It felt like an eternity before Silco nudged his side.

”Don’t get off at the main campus stop,” Silco said, keeping his voice low. Vander felt a shiver go through him. “There’s one closer to my building.” Vander nodded, not trusting himself fully to speak. He saw the campus gates and stared with no small amount of longing as some of their peers exited the bus, oblivious to his suffering.

”How many more stops?” he asked, dipping close to speak directly in Silco’s ear. Close enough to hear the way Silco’s breath shook.

”Three.” Vander swallowed down a frustrated groan, pressing his leg harder against Silco’s. “What ever happened to patience?” Silco asked, his tone smug. Vander slid the hand on the back of the seat forward to grip Silco’s shoulder.

”What I said was that I wanted to take my time with you,” he said, voice rough enough to sound like a growl. “That doesn’t mean I have any intention of being patient. ” Vander felt Silco shudder under his arm and he grit his teeth, willing the bus to go faster, damnit.

Silco felt like a tightly coiled spring next to him, ready to jump from his seat as the bus finally approached their stop. Vander felt similarly tense, and the pair were up and moving towards the exit before the bus had fully come to a stop. 

Taking Silco's hand in his own, they made the (thankfully) short trip to Silco's building at a clip. Like before, they went straight for the stairs, pushing past students coming in the opposite direction without apology, single mindedly focused on their final destination. 

Silco fished his keys out before they reached the door, and Vander took them, remembering the way Silco's fingers had shaken the last time and wanting to avoid any further delay. He slipped the key confidently into the lock, and the door clicked open.

This time, it was Vander that rushed to kiss Silco, to grab at his back, his hips, until his fingers wrapped around his slim thighs and hefted him up. Silco made a small sound against his mouth, surprised, maybe delighted, at this new development. All at once, Vander was so fucking grateful for the physical shape he needed to maintain for rugby.

”Bed,” Silco gasped against Vander’s mouth, biting his lower lip and smoothing that fucking tongue piercing against the sting. “Right fucking now.” Vander made for the bed without argument. He paused long enough to kick his shoes off and crossed the room in three big strides, all but dumping Silco onto his bed and ignoring his indignant squawk in favor of pulling off his shoes and kicking them out of the way. For a moment, they stared at one another, and then Silco was scrambling to get his belt undone.

The next few moments were spent battling with clothing, neither of them speaking in their haste. Vander grabbed the bottom hem of Silco’s pant legs, dragging them down, down—holy shit his legs were so long— and tossing them somewhere behind him. Maneuvering two grown men in a twin sized bed was almost maddening, a puzzle that Vander didn’t have the capacity to figure out when Silco was so close. At least he didn’t have to worry about squeezing under a top bunk.

In their mad dash to get naked, they ended up at opposite ends of the bed, which just would not do. Not when Silco’s mouth was red from kissing and the way Silco bit his bottom lip. After another second, Vander skated his hands up Silco’s legs, briefly wrapping his fingers around the backs of Silco’s knees to pull him down towards the foot of the bed.

Silco made an indignant noise. ”I’m not a piece of meat , Vander,” he hissed, but Vander was already busying himself with letting his fingers trail up Silco’s thighs, teasing under the bottoms of his boxer briefs. 

“Sure, whatever you say.” Vander couldn’t be bothered with arguing at this point. He’d say whatever Silco wanted if he just got naked already. He bent forward, licking his way into Silco’s mouth again, groaning at the way Silco’s fingers felt when they grabbed at Vander’s hair, pulling him in whichever direction suited him best. Silco’s own hair had come loose from its tie, the long strands creating a chaotic halo on the pillow beneath him. Fuck, he was beautiful.

They got sidetracked, trading hungry kisses that had Vander filling out against the zipper of his jeans. He wrapped his hands around Silco’s waist again, but this time he squeezed as he pulled Silco more firmly against himself, closing that last inch of space for a blistering moment. 

”Oh, fuck me,” Silco gasped, rutting up against Vander’s stomach. He was hard in his underwear. Vander let his hands slip down and around, groping at Silco’s ass to encourage him to keep moving against him.

”Yeah, yup, I can do that.” Sure, he’d fooled around with guys before, but he’d never gone this far with any of them. But he could figure it out. He was a smart guy. And right here, right now, with Silco underneath him asking for it, Vander wanted to promise Silco the fucking moon, whatever he wanted, as long as he kept scraping his teeth against Vander’s jaw. “Whatever you want, Silco.” 

Long, dexterous fingers grabbed at his shirt, dragging the back of it up until Vander had no choice but to pull himself away and nearly tear off the offending garment. Silco used the brief freedom to squirm further up the bed and grab at his nightstand drawer. Vander hoped he was grabbing some lube, but he had some specific plans to see through first.

He let Silco be for as long as it took to strip down to his underwear, and then he was crawling over him, caging his arms on either side of Silco’s head and drawing him into another scorching kiss. He vaguely felt something land on the bed near his leg, but he couldn’t be fucked to care at the moment, not when he rocked his hips down to graze their cocks together.

Silco cursed, arching up against him while also trying to pull him down, his hands reaching around to grab at Vander’s ass to try and find a better angle. “I swear to fuck, Vander if you don’t—“ Nope. Vander swallowed the rest of that sentence, hooking his fingers in Silco’s waistband and dragging his underwear down. 

He worked his way down, biting at Silco’s neck, pulling his shirt aside to suck a dark smudge on his collarbone, only to work his fingers underneath and ruck the fabric up until it was stuck under Silco’s armpits and his chest and stomach were available to Vander’s attentions. He took his time, just like he’d wanted to last time, grazing his teeth against Silco’s nipple before licking over the nub, practically making out with Silco’s chest until he could feel his moaning more than he could hear it.

Touching Silco like this, feeling the way his skin moved over muscle and bone, tasting him as Silco invoked the names of deities above him, had Vander throbbing in his underwear. He reached down to press the heel of his palm against his cock, seeking some kind of relief before he had to shift again, making room for himself to get a good look at Silco’s cock. 

“Vander—“ He glanced up through his lashes, mouth open and ready to kiss the head of Silco’s cock where it was pushing past his foreskin. Silco had propped himself on his elbows to watch, and his pretty eyes were nearly black, just a thin ring of blue-green iris around blown out pupils. His chest was heaving, already taking on color from Vander’s previous journey downwards. “Take your time a little faster, yeah?” 

A smirk pulled at Vander’s mouth. Holding Silco’s gaze, he gently steadied the cock in his hand, opening his mouth to press his tongue against Silco’s slit, tasting him. Silco made a strangled sound high in his throat, his fingers clenched in the bed spread as his head fell back between his shoulders. Vander teased his tongue beneath the foreskin, sucking languid, lazy kisses against the head until Silco’s arms gave out and he flopped down against the bed. Vander’s own hips slowly humped down, cock dragging against his underwear and not much else—there were cons to having muscular legs, and he couldn’t quite reach the bed in this position. It was the most delicious torture.

Wrapping his hand around the shaft, Vander took Silco into his mouth slowly. Vander hadn’t sucked a lot of cocks in his short life, but he was determined to make Silco feel good, so what he lacked in finesse he had every intention in making up for in enthusiasm. He fisted the length that he couldn’t fit into his mouth while he used the other to tease at Silco’s balls before sliding his fingers farther back to press against his taint. Silco was making these small cut-off sounds, gasps and whimpers and the occasional moan when Vander did something particularly right. His long, thin legs jerked like they wanted to close, and Vander thought he wouldn’t actually mind if Silco tried to suffocate him with those thighs. 

“Pl—ah!—Vander, come on .” Silco shook under his hands, his hips jerking up to try and get deeper into Vander’s mouth. It was easy enough to hold him down, pressing his hips to the mattress with one arm while the other scrambled to find where the lube had rolled to on the bed without taking his eyes off of Silco’s face. 

Silco’s Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his breathing coming in quick pants. His cheeks were flushed a mottled, vivid red that Vander wanted to taste. Vander tried to commit the image to memory in case this was the last time he had a chance to see it. 

He hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t think it was, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. 

He drew off Silco’s cock briefly, pressing a gentle kiss to Silco’s knee when he whined at the loss. “I know, just a sec,” Vander promised as he squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. He caught Silco’s expression shift from frustrated disappointment to outright desperation, his pretty eyes practically glued to where Vander was warming the lube. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.” Silco blinked, eyes refocusing on Vander’s face. He hadn’t meant to admit that, but there was something so painfully vulnerable on Silco’s face for a second, the kind of expression that made Vander’s heart squeeze in his chest. Then he stooped back down to take him back into his mouth again, greedily lapping at the precum that had started to gather in his absence, slicked fingers dipping behind to stroke over Silco’s hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Silco gasped. Vander felt a brief flash of alarm, that he'd hurt Silco somehow, until Silco grabbed at his knees and drew them up to give Vander more room. The sight of him holding himself open, chest heaving, face red, all while Vander swallowed around his cock and pressed a finger inside him almost had Vander teetering on the edge. Maybe this is what enlightenment felt like.

He tried to go slow while working Silco open, his own inexperience making him fumble, but if Silco noticed, it sure didn’t seem like he minded. Vander eased one finger inside and waited until Silco was clenching around him, silently demanding more. Even without speaking, he was unbelievably bossy. 

He wanted to take his time, wanted to spend the rest of the evening taking this man apart, over and over again, until neither of them could think clearly, but his cock ached between his thighs, and Silco was becoming more demanding, tugging at Vander, begging for him to hurry the fuck up already, and Vander was pretty sure he would move heaven and earth if Silco asked for it.

“I can take another,” Silco said, burying his fingers into Vander’s hair and pulling insistently. Vander groaned around him, pulling out just far enough that he could press a second finger against Silco’s hole. As much as he would love to keep sucking Silco’s cock, he leaned back to be able to see his face, looking for any signs of discomfort as he caressed his fingers against him. Seeing nothing but abject desire on Silco’s face, he pressed his fingers inside slowly, maintaining gentle pressure as he worked up to the second knuckle. 

Vander was familiar with fingering women, but he had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling for right now. He tried crooking his fingers up and Silco’s hands abruptly grabbed at the sheets, his own knuckles turning white as he sucked in a sharp gasp, eyes squeezing shut.

Vander froze. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Silco let out an uneven breath as his eyes fluttered open again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Keep going.” 

“Maybe it’s a little late to mention, but I haven’t actually done this before,” Vander admitted, feeling his cheeks burn. That grabbed Silco’s attention fully, his eyes becoming a bit clearer as he processed what Vander had said.

“Done what? Had sex?” Silco asked incredulously, chest still heaving from whatever Vander had done just a moment before.

Vander resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes, “Not with another guy…” He really should have mentioned something earlier, but getting Silco in bed again had been more important than discussing the minutiae of his own inexperience.

“Well, you seem to be doing alright,” he assured Vander, awkwardly patting his shoulder. “The mechanics are more or less the same. I’ll just—I’ll tell you if anything hurts, or whatever.” 

Vander hesitated for another moment before he continued to press his fingers inside, watching the way Silco bit his lip. Slowly, Vander started moving with more confidence as Silco melted back into the sheets, offering bits of encouragement between gasps for breath. 

Feeling particularly bold, Vander curled his fingers again, feeling for the same spot as before. It took a second, but then Silco’s hips bucked so aggressively that Vander would have choked if he had still been sucking his cock, and suddenly that was all he wanted to happen. He swallowed Silco down again, teasing his fingers against that spot again and groaning when he felt the head of Silco’s cock bump against the back of his throat.

“Shit, sorry,” Silco said, petting soothing fingers through Vander’s hair, his soft touch making Vander shiver. He curled his fingers again in some kind of pornographic parody of a “bring it on” gesture, eyes fluttering closed when Silco’s hips jerked again. His eyes watered, but he didn’t stop, teasing at Silco’s prostate until that bitter-salt dribble of pre-cum became a steady stream. It wasn’t long before Silco was scrambling for purchase, gripping the sheets, the pillow, the headboard, brokenly moaning Vander’s name as he came. Again, his legs tried to close, his heels digging into Vander’s shoulder blades, keeping him close until he sagged back, boneless.

Vander kept still until Silco started to whine, pushing at his face with a shaking hand. Standing from the bed, Vander grabbed a tissue from Silco’s side table and spat into it, tossing the used tissue into the nearby trash can. He turned back towards Silco to catch him watching Vander through half-lidded eyes, looking like the very definition of debauched.

”I thought you said whatever I wanted.” Silco’s voice was a rasp that sent shockwaves down Vander’s spine. “I said ‘fuck me’, after all.” 

“You’re awfully bossy, you know that?” Vander replied, a tease more than a rebuke. He slipped his underwear off and crawled back onto the bed, glancing around for the lube when it didn’t immediately jump to attention. He patted at the sheets, then the comforter behind him, with growing desperation until he felt wet fingers close around him, just barely warm enough to keep him from flinching back. Silco looked entirely too pleased with himself as he fisted Vander’s cock, doing a messy job of getting it slick.

Vander reached for Silco’s hips again to pull him down the bed, and pressed the head of his cock against Silco’s entrance. Holy shit, this was really happening. After months of imagining this moment, of having Silco beneath him, warm and pliant, here he was, gently nudging his hips forward.

+ + +

For a second, Silco was worried that even with the orgasm and Vander’s thorough preparation, his cock still wouldn’t fit. He felt impossibly huge against him, a steady pressure that forced Silco to relax, shivering through aftershocks that felt dangerously—deliciously—close to overstimulation. 

Normally, Silco was the more active participant when hooking up with someone, and while he hadn’t exactly been playing the role of pillow princess, receiving this much felt kind of overwhelmingly wonderful. Marcus would have been complaining by now, accusing him of behaving like a dead fish for just laying there after he’d so graciously deigned to suck his cock, but Vander seemed more than happy to let him catch his breath after throwing him around like some kind of rag doll. Silco had really liked that part, too. It felt kind of dangerous actually, to like what Vander was doing to him, instead of tolerating a shitty lay with worse company. How was he ever supposed to go back?

He tried not to hold his breath as Vander slowly pressed his cock forward, his body adjusting to the size nicely. “Fucking—“ Vander quite literally bit off whatever he was going to say, latching his teeth into his bottom lip as Silco felt his hole clench around Vander’s shaft. They both held still, but Silco could tell just how much Vander was controlling his breathing, could see the way that shivers wracked through him. Vander’s admission that he hadn’t ever done this with another guy had been surprising, to say the least. Right now it looked like he was going to pop a vein in his forehead.

“Vander,” Silco sighed, reaching to brush some of his hair out of those big blue-grey eyes. Vander stared at him, looking for something Silco wasn’t sure he had to offer, but damn it all if he didn’t want to try. “Kiss me.” His arms broke out in goosebumps as Vander did just that, kissing him like Silco was a source of oxygen. His hips twitched forward, and Silco did his best to press back into him, to take more of him. Vander’s responding moan was quiet, a desperate little thing that did horrible things to Silco’s insides. Warm, fluttering things that he couldn’t remember feeling before.

”K-keep doing that and I’m not gonna last long.” Vander already sounded wrecked, as if Silco had ripped him open to see his beating heart behind his ribs. Or maybe that’s how Silco felt. It was hard to keep track right now as Vander slowly pushed the air out of him.

”I don’t fucking care. Move, Vander,” Silco said, and it was like a switch had been thrown. Vander thrust forward, sinking to the hilt in a single, delicious thrust. It punched a gasp out of Silco’s chest, and his fingers tangled into Vander’s hair as he was kissed again. He did his best to wrap his legs around Vander’s hips, determined to keep him close, to have this just a little longer.

The room was soon filled with the slap of skin on skin, of Silco trying to hold on for dear life as Vander fucked into him at a relentless pace, pushing him through overstimulation and back around to rock hard. His cock was trapped between them, each thrust of Vander’s hips sending zings of electric pleasure through him.

He could feel his second orgasm thundering towards its peak when Vander paused. Silco had never in his life made a sound like the whine that ripped out of him, but here they were. “Sorry, sorry, one sec,” Vander gasped, dropping one leg over the side of the bed for better leverage before he was fucking back into Silco again. Silco hid his face in Vander’s shoulder, panting his pleasure against sweat-slick skin before sucking a mark of his own into the muscle, effectively muffling himself. 

He was close, so close, and Vander’s thrusts became erratic as he barreled towards his own finish. That alone was enough to have Silco wrapping his fingers around his cock to come for a second time. Vander groaned as he came, each muscle that Silco could feel bunched and spasming before he finally rolled off Silco to settle on the bed next to him. If he still had his wits about him, Silco might have found the way his large body was scrunched between him and wall funny, but fortunately for Vander, he’d done a splendid job of fucking Silco stupid.

Silco’s eyes slid closed as he breathed, shivering with the come down and how his skin chilled when the air made contact after being underneath Vander’s heat for so long. 

Neither of them spoke for a minute. Maybe Vander’s brains were also scrambled. Silco turned his head to examine Vander’s face, the furrow between his brows, the way his chest moved as he panted. He didn’t flinch when Vander opened his eyes and caught him staring, but it was a near thing. Instead of calling him out, Vander shifted until he could lean over and kiss him, slowly this time, indulgent. The urgency and tension they had stoked in one another earlier had finally waned, allowing them to linger and touch without any intentions of more. At least for now. 

Vander muttered something against Silco’s lips, the words slurred and honestly unimportant right now. Silco was busy. 

They laid there, naked and sticky with cum and sweat, making out for who knows how long before Silco drew back slowly, licking his lips, which were swollen. They were probably red too, if Vander’s lips were any indication. Seeing that made a possessive thrill run through him. “Remind me to start storing wet wipes in my room,” he finally said, stretching his arms over his head. There was a soft ache in his hips as he stretched his legs out, one slipping off the side of his narrow bed.

When he finally settled, Vander ran his hand up Silco’s thigh, up, up and up until his fingers brushed the shirt that Silco had forgotten he was still wearing. He grimaced, suddenly aware that he could feel how the sweat-soaked fabric clung to his skin, which only led to him remembering that he was a sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back,” Vander said, crawling across Silco and out of the bed. 

“Where—“

”Just getting a washcloth. I’ll just be a second,” Vander explained, pulling on his jeans. It was very apparent that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, and the idea of someone seeing him exit Silco’s room looking like that made his stomach twist and his dick twitch.

”You don’t have to,” Silco started, forcing his arms to push him up and then hold his weight. It was a big ask at the moment, but Vander had gone last time, and it was Silco’s room after all. 

“I know.” Vander winked as he grabbed a face cloth from the same drawer he had last time and slipped out into the hall. What a fucking dork.

Silco sat up fully and took off his shirt, tossing it towards his small hamper. He needed to do laundry. He looked around his room, lost for what to do next until his eyes caught on his bag from the record shop. Had that only been this afternoon ? It probably wasn’t a good sign that Silco felt like hours must have passed, that feeling like he did right now couldn’t have been from a thorough fucking. He didn’t want to get up while he was still covered in cum, but he needed to move, needed something to focus on besides the alarms that had started blaring in his head.

Did Silco really have such a lackluster sex life that one time getting fucked by Vander had effected him so monumentally? Sure, Marcus was…well, an hour ago Silco would have said Marcus was fine, was decent enough for a distraction from homework, but now…He couldn’t remember the last time Marcus had gone down on him. Not that Silco didn’t like giving blowjobs—he actually quite enjoyed it—but a half-ass hand job in return got old real quick. He hadn’t even had to ask , for fuck’s sake! Vander had just gone for it, not a care in the world. The fact that that extended beyond drinks into their sex life was—

Wait. They didn’t have a sex life . They had a sex instance. A sex moment. A blip in the extensive universe that surrounded them.

This was bad. 

This was so, so bad. Silco always wanted more than he had; there was no way he was going to be able to give this up now that he’d had a taste. What was he supposed to do? Crawl back to Marcus? The guy was an asshole. It had seemed practical to keep his number after their drunken hookup last year, and it was, except Silco didn’t think that he would be able to tolerate the fact that he was a dickhead now that he’d realized just how bad in bed he really was.

What was he going to do?

+ + +

Exiting Silco’s room felt riskier this time, even though the bathroom was right across the hall. It was the time of day that most people would be transitioning from their afternoon activities, coming back to their dorm rooms to chill. But a man could only lay in his own sweat and spunk for so long before he lost it. He successfully made it to the bathroom and wet Silco’s washcloth without being noticed. All he had to do was cross the hall again. 

Easy peasy.

“Vander?” 

Vander winced as he turned to see Felicia coming down the hallway. What the fuck? She didn’t even live in this building. “Oh. Hey, Fel,” he said after a long moment, hiding the washcloth behind his back and trying to forget the fact that he was commando and very obviously headed back towards what they both knew was Silco’s room.

Her eyes darted to the bathroom, then towards Silco’s room before finally landing on him, dressed in only his jeans, his chest and feet bare. He could feel the washcloth in his hand rapidly cooling, but he couldn’t just go back to Silco’s room with Felicia right there.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, and Vander wished the ground would open and swallow him whole. It couldn’t be more obvious what he was doing there, and he couldn’t decide if he appreciated that Felicia wasn’t coming right out with it. 

Had Silco told her about the last time? Had he told her about anything? Vander sure as shit hadn’t; between classes, practice, and his project, he felt like he’d barely seen Felicia that semester. Her dating Connol certainly hadn’t helped things. It wasn’t like he would have talked about Silco to her, that wouldn’t be fair to put her in the middle of whatever they were doing, but she had a way of just knowing things. Vander wouldn’t have had to say a word about it; she would have seen right through him.

“Uh, Silco and I are working on our sociology assignment,” he said. That was a logical reason for him to be at Silco’s room, though it didn’t answer anything about his current state of dress. There was no cover for that or how he could feel his skin prickling as it flushed dark red.

“Right,” Felicia replied slowly. She looked at Silco’s door again before focusing back on Vander. There was something slightly devious in her expression that was making Vander sweat. “How’s that going?”

“No, yeah, good. Good, good. Great.” Just shut up!

“Good,” Felicia said. A smile formed on her lips the longer they stood there.

“Well, I should…get back to it,” Vander said, reaching for the door behind him.

“Yeah, you wouldn't want to keep him waiting,” Felicia answered, her smile growing wider. 

“Yeah, right. See you, Fel.” He grabbed the door handle and pushed, thanking every lucky star that it hadn’t locked automatically when he’d left, and slipped back inside, leaning against it.

“Everything okay?” Silco asked. Vander looked over at him sitting on the bed with a grimace. He still looked beautiful, his flush lingering on his cheekbones. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in the back. Fuck.

”Uh, yeah. Just saying hi to someone.” Maybe Silco would leave it.

“Who?” Silco asked. Of course, he’d probably been able to hear voices on the other side of the door.

“Felicia,” Vander answered miserably.

“ Oh .” He watched as Silco blanched, one hand picking at the stitching on his quilt. It looked hand-made.

“Yeah.”

“Did she say any—”

“No.” That, at least, was a relief to share. He remembered the washcloth in his hand and made quick work of crossing the room and sitting on the bed next to Silco. He offered the washcloth, even though he’d wanted to clean Silco up himself, to take care of him. Silco took the cloth and hissed at its temperature, but didn’t mention it.

“Oh. Good. Did you know they have a bet about us?” Silco asked as he wiped himself down. Shit, he knew about that?

“Yeah. I only just found out—the guys assumed that I had already known, I guess, but I didn’t. But I think, uh, Sevika won.” Vander winced slightly at the mention of her name. “I asked her if she knew where you hung out in town,” he admitted, “and she flat out asked me. She said that the others didn’t know, and that she’d wait to collect until we made it—well, until people found out.” Silco’s hand slowed as he wiped the back of his neck, mulling over this new information. Vander felt his stomach sink.

“Patient woman,” Silco muttered, handing the washcloth back to him. “Felicia knows. Well, obviously she knows, but she knew. Before. I had to basically beg her not to tell Connol.”

Vander was quiet for a moment, giving himself a quick wipe down with the frigid washcloth. It didn’t feel great knowing that Silco had begged Felicia to keep it quiet, but he swallowed it down for now. Silco was just a private person. “Well, he’s gonna find out one way or another, now. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to think about them right now,” Silco said, standing and turning to face Vander. He grabbed the washcloth and tossed it towards his hamper without checking to see where it landed.

“Yeah, okay,” Vander agreed, going easily as Silco pushed him back down onto the bed and straddled his lap, drawing him into another heated kiss.

+ + +

For the first time in a long time, Silco hadn’t been alone when he woke up. Unlike last time when he’d woken to an empty bed and quickly scribbled apology, he got to experience waking up first, blinking into awareness and realizing that Vander’s massive body had hogged the covers through the night. Not that Silco was cold—the other man was like a damned furnace. He tried not to feel anything particular about waking up curled into Vander’s chest, his bed head pillowed on Vander’s bicep.

Silco was used to surviving without. He was used to making do with what was available to him, which was never much, much less enough . And that was okay. It had to be okay, because it wasn’t like he had a host of alternatives from which to choose. He just kept telling himself that one day, it would be different. He would have enough, he would be able to relax, he would have time to do shit like sleep in late while wrapped up in someone else’s arms. One day, someday…once he’d earned it.

He didn’t feel like he’d earned this. He still had too much to do, too much to accomplish. He didn’t have time to get lost in whatever this was—whatever he wanted it to really be. If he was smart, he would wake Vander up and shove him out the door. If he was smart, he would have never let any of this happen in the first place.

With a grim resolve, he slowly twisted his way out of Vander’s hold, getting out of bed once he was free. He needed to shower, and eat something, and probably schedule himself for a lobotomy, because all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed.

“Silco?” Vander’s sleep rough voice sent a shiver of want up his spine. “What time is it?” Silco made himself busy with gathering his shower stuff.

“Just after ten.” 

“Oh, shit. Well, I guess we were up late,” Vander chuckled. This was bad. Vander was being charming, and Silco was nothing if not greedy by nature, but he could not have this .

“Yeah, I guess,” Silco muttered, as if he wasn’t intimately aware of the gentle ache in his hips and wouldn’t be furiously jerking off about it in the shower.

“Lucky for us that they serve breakfast late on the weekends.” 

“Depends on your definition of luck,” Silco quipped before he could stop himself. For fuck’s sake, flirting with Vander wasn’t going to help anything. Fortunately, Vander seemed oblivious to Silco’s inner turmoil.

“Maybe we could—“ No. This had to stop.

“I actually need to get ready, I have my work study this afternoon,” Silco said, spinning to face Vander while cutting him off. It wasn’t a complete lie, Silco didn’t need that much time to get ready, but Vander didn’t need to know that. He did his best to ignore the way that Vander blinked and failed to not look disappointed. 

Silco knew that this was right, that it would hurt less, in the long run, if he kept things simple, clean. Just because they’d hooked up a couple of times didn’t mean that they were friends. What were they supposed to do? Go to the dining hall together? Eat together and discuss their plans for the day? Sure, and then Benzo and Connol would join them, and Silco could discuss legal theory with them. 

“Oh, sure,” Vander finally said, scrubbing his hands over his face. Silco cleared his throat and turned back to focus on something, anything, else. “I guess, I’ll uh, see you later then. Let me get outta your hair.” It didn’t take Vander long to get dressed and gather his things from the day before. Silco did his best to not look awkward, but he was pretty clearly waiting for Vander to leave.

“We should—or, I guess—maybe we should meet up this week? Swap our portions of the paper for editing?” Vander asked, standing at the door. Silco crossed his arms over his chest, giving himself an additional barrier against Vander’s big, hurt puppy eyes. That stupid paper. 

“Sure. I can text you,” Silco agreed. They did need to finish the paper, and he wasn’t about to let his messy feelings get in the way of his academic record. 

“I have a, uh, a match, on Saturday . If you wanted to come.” Silco didn’t understand this. He was being such a dick, and still Vander persisted. Why? Why did he have to make this harder?

“I can’t. I have my work study.” That time he was lying. 

“Oh, sure. Okay. I guess I’ll text you then.”

“Okay.” Go, just fucking go. Vander cleared his throat like he wanted to say more, but then he finally left, leaving Silco cold in his wake. Silco took a breath, then another, rubbing his sweating palms against his bathrobe. This was for the best. It was the right decision.

He kept telling himself that as he gathered the last of his shower things and crossed the hall, vainly hoping that the more he thought it, the less chilled he would feel. He went through the motions of starting the shower in his preferred stall, setting up his towel and his caddy out of the spray’s reach, and only stepped under the water once he could see it steaming.

He stood there, willing the water to warm him through, for what felt like hours. He needed to wash his hair, remove the scent of Vander from his body so that he could move the fuck on with his day, but he couldn’t make his body cooperate with him. 

In the end, he pressed his forehead against the shower wall and let the water run until it went tepid.

This had to be the right choice.

Chapter Text

Vander was pretty thoroughly fucked. 

Even after Silco’s less-than-gracious conclusion to their night together, all Vander wanted to do was talk to him. He also kind of wanted to throttle him, but that urge was best worked out on the rugby pitch. Yesterday— last night —had been so good and Vander was sure that Silco had enjoyed himself. But then he’d just shut down. What had changed in the course of a few hours? Why couldn’t Vander just let this go? He wasn’t usually such a glutton for punishment.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Felicia said with a wry smile as she took the seat across from Vander in the cafeteria, derailing his train of thought. Vander gave her an unimpressed look but otherwise kept his mouth shut; Connol was right behind her, setting his tray down at the seat next to her. Silco had begged Felicia not to mention it to Connol for a reason. The question was if he’d done that because he just didn’t really like Connol, or if he was ashamed of sleeping with Vander. Besides, he didn’t feel like he was in a good mood after Silco gave him the brush off that morning.

“Oh? Did someone finally get some?” Connol asked with a smirk. “Hopefully with you-know-who. I really need to win that bet.” 

Sometimes Vander had to wonder if Connol was really stupid or just had a fetish for Vander beating the ever living shit out of him. He scowled and put a point towards the argument that Silco’s reservation about Connol knowing was because Connol was kind of a jackass. Instead of threatening bodily harm, Vander avoided Felicia’s knowing gaze, and lifted another forkful of eggs into his mouth. It would be rude to talk with his mouth full.

“Nah,” Sevika said as she set down her tray next to Vander and slid into the chair. “I don’t think Vander has the guts to close the deal on that one.” She elbowed Vander playfully. 

“Why don’t you guys bet on something other than my personal life, like whether or not the Sentinels are going to crash out in the finals?” Vander grunted.

“Why would we bet on something that’s a sure thing?” Connol replied. 

“They might surprise you,” Vander shot back.

Connol rolled his eyes. “Please. You’ve seen them this season, and their game record is abysmal. I’d be surprised if they even make it to finals at all.” Vander couldn’t argue; Connol was right. “You and Silco, though? Now that’s interesting. I figure it’s only a matter of time. But really, I didn’t think it would take you this long. From what I’ve heard about Silco, you’d think he’d be easy.” 

Vander went rigid while Felicia made a considering kind of sound into her coffee, and what the fuck did that mean?

“What you’ve heard?” Vander asked, trying to keep the blatant curiosity out of his voice. He didn’t really pay attention to the idle gossip that happened around campus, but if someone was talking shit about Silco, Vander wanted to know. He saw Felicia and Sevika exchange a heavy look but stayed focused on Connol as his teammate obliviously shoveled eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah, you know Marcus? From our math class?” Vander vaguely recognised the name. He seemed like a real dick, honestly. “I mentioned the way you two have been dancing around each other and he said he and Silco hook up all the time. Basically just a booty call, but y’know. It’s a wonder you’ve had such a hard time hitting that. I mean, you’re a much better option than Marcus, any day of the week.”

Vander wondered what the context was that Connol had any reason to bring him and Silco up in conversation with Marcus, but Felicia interjected before Vander had a chance to ask.

“Aw, Vander, are you trying to steal my man?” she teased, prodding his leg with her foot under the table and obviously trying to steer the conversation to less turbulent waters. 

“Please, baby, there’s no competition,” Connol said, pressing a kiss into her cheek. Sevika made a gagging sound.

Vander’s hand tightened around his fork. He knew that Silco had at least one other person around to give him hickies, not that Vander had seen any that he hadn’t left himself in the past fourteen hours. Not that Vander had any claim to Silco. Two impulsive hook ups, good as they were, did not a relationship make. But knowing this Marcus guy talked so cavalierly about Silco made Vander seethe. Everything he knew about Silco—which was admittedly not much—screamed that he would hate it if his partner, however casual, was airing his dirty laundry.

A moment later Benzo appeared and Vander groaned. Was there some special notice about team breakfast that he’d missed or something?

“What are we talking about?” Benzo asked as he took a seat.

“Vander and Silco!” Connol said, still not sensing any danger. “Vander’s still failed to seal the deal, although he apparently got some over the weekend.” Felicia elbowed Connol, but the damage was done. Benzo whistled low.

“I could have told you that. Someone didn’t come home last night.” Benzo elbowed Vander, inviting him to the joke, but he didn’t feel like playing along. Honestly, since when had his sex life become public interest? “Didn’t you say that guy Marcus said Silco was an easy lay though?” Benzo asked. Connol nodded, but thankfully had a mouthful of coffee and couldn’t answer properly. Benzo let out another low whistle. “Damn, Vander. What’s taking you so long?”

Vander was considering the merits of punching Benzo, of punching Connol, of finding this asshole Marcus and punching him, too. He knew violence wasn’t the answer, but if they wouldn’t listen to his plaintive requests to just let the situation go, then maybe that was the next best alternative. He tuned out the chatter of his friends around him, focusing on his breathing until his anger went from a near boil to a manageable simmer. 

It would be easier to just admit that he and Silco had hooked up already. Then they wouldn’t need to speculate anymore. Would probably stop talking about it altogether once the bubble of fascination had burst. He and Silco hadn’t decided on how to handle the whole bet thing, and Vander half-wished that he hadn’t let Silco distract him last night when he’d brought it up. Now faced with a situation where saying something would likely help them both, Vander didn’t know what to say, and so he said nothing.

“Earth to Vander? Dude, what is up with you lately?” Benzo said, nudging him again. Vander shook his head to clear it.

“You guys are such assholes,” Vander answered, stabbing at his plate. 

“Just repeating what I was told. Don’t shoot the messenger,” Connol said. Vander could feel Felicia watching him like a physical touch, some kind of accusation there, but it wasn’t like he could talk to her about this right now. Wasn’t Silco her friend?

“Why are you being so defensive?” Benzo asked. “You don’t actually like him, do you? Maybe they already hooked up and he’s just being precious about it and doesn’t want us to know.” He laughed. Because there was no way Vander could be interested in someone like Silco, right? Because they revolved in different orbits. Because Silco was quiet and didn’t like parties and didn’t bother making nice with people.

Vander could feel his face burning. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t need to air his personal business in front of his friends. He abruptly stood from the table, his chair screeching across the floor as he did.

“Hey, where are you going?” Benzo asked.

Without answering Vander picked up his tray and discarded his half-eaten breakfast in one of the nearby trash cans, slamming his used tray on the rack by the cafeteria exit. He could hear Benzo and Connol calling after him, teasing him. Fucking stupid. He shouldn’t be making such a big deal about this, not if he wanted to keep them out of his business.

“Vander, wait up.” Felicia called, coming up short as Vander stopped just outside the cafeteria doors. “You wanna tell me what’s up with you?” she asked.

He glanced through the glass doors to where their friends were still sitting and scowled. “How can you sit there and let them talk about him like that? He’s your friend, too.” He realized that his hands were clenched into fists and shoved them into his pockets.

“Marcus is an asshole,” Felicia said with a shrug, like that was an acceptable answer. “I don’t put any stock in what he says about anyone or anything.”

“That’s all the more reason for you to say something when your boyfriend is sitting there, ‘just repeating what he’d heard’ and basically saying Silco’s some kind of a slut.” 

“I mean, truthfully, Silco kind of is. Or he can be when he wants. More power to him, and all that, but…” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “That’s not really what’s bothering you, is it?”

Vander grit his teeth. Felicia had an uncanny knack for getting straight to the exact point he didn’t want her to find. What was he supposed to say? It felt shitty to just sit there listening to his teammates make jokes and bets about his sex life, especially when he was still trying to figure shit out for himself.

“You do like him, don’t you? Like, really like him.” Vander flinched when she touched his arm. Before he could try to think of something to say, someone made to exit the cafeteria, nearly opening the doors in his and Felicia’s faces. “Okay, this isn’t the spot to have this conversation. C’mon.” Felicia linked her arm through Vander’s and steered them away from the dining hall.

“For what it's worth, I think he likes you, too,” she said as they exited through one of the exterior doors and made for the direction of his dorm. Vander’s heart lurched; it felt too good to be true, or impossible, somehow. Especially after Silco had just dismissed him this morning. “Look, he hasn’t said as much, but…after midterms, he missed a class and so we met up in the cafeteria. It didn’t take much to figure out something had happened between the two of you.” So that was what Silco meant when he’d said Felicia had known, then. “He asked me not to tell Connol. Was pretty insistent about it, actually. Normally he doesn’t care about that, but he cared about this.”

Any of Vander’s residual anger rushed out of him, leaving him feeling deflated. 

“I don’t know how to handle this, Fel. At first I just wanted to know what you liked about him, but he was so resistant to any kind of conversation. And then the thing in Piltover happened, and…I don’t know. I still barely know anything about him, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Or maybe he already had. Even now, all he wanted to do was talk to Silco, to try and find some kind of even ground with whatever they were doing here.

Felicia gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze, and he pulled her into a proper hug. Despite her smaller stature, she hugged him back fiercely. This early in the morning there weren’t a lot of people out wandering campus, but Felicia navigated them a little off the path so they weren’t in anyone’s way. “Silco can be a difficult nut to crack. He has a way of getting under your skin.”

That was an understatement. Vander felt like Silco had managed to take up a permanent residence in his brain.

“What do I do, Fel? I just…really like him, but I feel like if I do anything too suddenly he’ll slam the walls back up and I’ll be back at square one.”

“I can talk to him, if you want. Test the waters?”

Vander let Felicia go and stepped off the path and sank onto a nearby bench. “I don’t know, Fel. That feels kind of grade school, like me giving you a note to pass on that says ‘do you like me, yes or no’.” He pushed his hand through his hair with a sigh. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you, V,” Felicia replied. She settled onto the bench next to him with one leg tucked beneath her. “I think the best way to approach it is to treat Silco like a street cat. Give him lots of space but let him get used to you and eventually he’ll warm up to you.”

Oddly the analogy fit Silco pretty perfectly. It was a tactic that had seemed to work well for Vander so far. But he was ready to get past the point of holding his hand out and hoping Silco would be receptive to his touch. He wanted Silco to roll over and show him his belly, to demonstrate that he trusted Vander. But trust with people, as it was with cats, was something that was earned. Maybe Vander hadn’t reached the threshold for that just yet, but he would.

+ + +

Even though Silco had stayed in the shower as long as possible after kicking Vander out that morning, he’d somehow still managed to almost bump into him outside the dining hall. He should have just gone to the cafe closer to the library, especially considering Vander had specifically mentioned the dining hall, but he didn’t have disposable income to throw around on overpriced caffeine. He’d only just managed to avoid being seen by Vander as he exited the cafeteria entrance, Felicia close on his heels. Even though he hadn’t been close enough to hear everything they were saying, he picked up enough to puzzle together that tey were talking about him, which was just—

Fine. Perfectly fine.

He did his best to push the feelings he definitely wasn’t having down, refocusing on his mission for coffee and then heading to the library for his shift. Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans. 

“Hey! Leach!” Silco jerked, grip tightening on the strap of his bag. He turned to find Connol, of all people, waving Silco over to where he was sitting with Sevika and Benzo. Silco paused, glancing at them, trying to figure out the trick. Bracing himself, he headed over to their table. He shouldn’t be outright hostile to Felicia’s boyfriend, no matter how much he didn’t really care for Connol. 

“Did you need something, Connol?” Silco asked, trying to keep his tone friendly. He glanced at Sevika but she just shrugged.

“Yeah, just—what’s going on with you and Vander?” Connol asked, somehow perfectly unaware of how that was a fucked up question, like it was any of his business. Silco felt himself burn, sure that his face was some kind of red verging on purple. He watched as Connol jerked back from the table hissing, Sevika having kicked him. What had Vander said to them? He’d been talking about Silco with Felicia, and now Connol—

“Ignore him, Silco, he was raised by fucking murk wolves.” Sevika looked borderline murderous.

“Hey!” Connol protested. 

“There’s nothing going on between Vander and me.” Silco couldn’t tell if he sounded convincing or just defensive. Unfortunately, neither Benzo or Connol looked convinced.

“Come on,” Connol weedled, leaning on the back of his chair like he and Silco were having a friendly chat. “I’ve seen the two of you together. There’s gotta be something going on. Vander gets so up in arms every time you come up in conversation. You can tell us. It’ll just be our little secret.”

Silco grit his teeth. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to win the bet the team has about us?” he snapped.

Connol had the good sense to look guilty. “You know about that?”

“Yeah, I know about that,” Silco said with a sneer, his earlier good will having disappeared completely. 

Connol glanced at Benzo and Sevika for help, but they seemed perfectly happy to let him keep digging this hole. “Well, hey, if you let us in on what’s going on, we can cut you in on the winnings.”

“That’s not something you can just decide unilaterally,” Sevika interjected. 

Silco felt his stomach drop when she cast a glance at him briefly. Silco wasn’t sure what the look was intended to mean, but the pang of hurt in his gut at her not—what, defending him?—was unexpected. Then he remembered that she had told Vander that she would keep her mouth shut about knowing until the rest of the team found out. That seemed to be the limit of their relationship, and even though it shouldn’t, it stung.

Silco huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Connol, has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a shit friend?” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed towards the exit. 

He shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee anyway.

He kept his head down as he marched to the library, seething. This is why fucking around with Vander was a horrible idea. This is why Silco didn’t date—sleep with—jocks. 

He was being ridiculous, just so, so stupid. What else should he have expected? Giving into temptation, opening himself up against his better judgement, only made him vulnerable to people like Connol. Like Vander. Hadn’t he been through this enough? 

He’d always been the weird kid, wearing patched clothes and keeping to himself, his nose tucked in a book. He’d been teased for the way he looked, the way he talked, the things he was interested in. He asked too many questions, he didn’t like to play during recess, the list went on. Growing up with limited means meant that he was good at fending for himself, making do with less, and that included friendships with his classmates. So he’d learned how to do what he could with what was available to him. That meant creating stories in his head, reading books, things that made it harder to relate to the kids who were better off than he was, who better understood the social dynamics that allowed you to make friends.

His unpopularity at school certainly didn’t help his dating prospects. Being a thinner, more waifish version of himself in his teens, Silco was often seen as effeminate and the boys in his class took an inordinate amount of glee in calling him a queer. If anything, their teasing had provided Silco with a label for himself that made sense of a lot of his experiences to that point. Silco had always known he was different, but it wasn’t until he’d started attending public school that he’d confirmed that he was more attracted to boys than he was to girls, which only served to further shrink his social circle.

He’d been an idiot back then, his heart doing backflips at the first sign of potential affection, so eager to be liked that he was willing to ignore that the boy his poor teenage heart had selected was from among his tormentors.

Lukas hadn’t been that bad, or so Silco had first thought. He’d never outright picked on him like his friends, instead almost always telling them to knock it off after a while like he was bored of the whole affair. He greeted Silco in the hallways sometimes, when they crossed paths between periods, offering a quick smile. He was the picture of teenage beauty, with a squared jaw and pretty dark eyes, always carrying around a football. They could not have run in more dissimilar circles, but still Silco’s stomach fluttered with riotous butterflies whenever Lukas threw him a crumb of attention. He was the first male classmate that Silco hadn’t felt threatened by since primary school. 

He was also the first boy Silco had ever kissed, cornered in the locker room after gym one day in the last period after all the other boys had cleared out. “I see the way you look at me, Leach,” he’d said, voice low, though it still echoed off the cinderblock walls and metal lockers. Looking back, Silco saw Lukas for the threat he was, but at the time he’d melted like putty as Lukas traced a finger along the curve of Silco’s jaw. “Bet I could pretend you were a girl if I keep my eyes closed,” he continued.

Silco had stayed frozen, caged in, both desperate to be close to him while simultaneously terrified that this was some kind of dream. The kiss he’d pressed to Silco’s lips had been feather light, barely more than a brush of lips, but it had sparked electricity along Silco’s nerves, and if he wasn’t sure about his preferences before then, it certainly helped to confirm what he’d suspected. The second kiss had been firmer, and Lukas hadn’t mentioned how Silco had been shaking after. He’d only offered a small smile and said, “Let’s keep this between us, yeah?”

Silco gripped the strap of his bag tighter at the memory of those two months he'd spent kissing Lukas Alvium in dark corners, always when Lukas’ friends were long gone and always on Lukas’ terms. Silco had just been so thrilled, over the moon and naive . That had been the first year he'd been dreading the end of school.

He still wasn’t sure what had happened over the summer break, but the start of his junior year of high school had seen Lukas pretending like Silco didn’t exist. He no longer said anything when his friends made Silco their source of malicious entertainment. He no longer approached Silco in dark, empty classrooms, instead choosing to spend all of his time with Verity Sumner, who was tall and thin, with sharp features that suited her narrow face, and a cascade of dark hair that fell around her shoulders in waves. Verity Sumner, who travelled in the same social circles as Lukas. Who Lukas kissed no matter who was around.

Vander kissed Silco much better than Lukas ever had, but the butterflies still tasted like panic in the back of his throat.

By the time he reached the library, he was still fuming.

“Hey, Silco,” someone said, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

Mariah was at the information desk, half tucked behind a pile of returned books. Mariah was working on her Masters of Library Science and worked part-time in the library when she wasn’t in class. Silco liked her fine enough. She was quiet in a similar way to him, although her edges weren’t as jagged as Silco’s. She was a petite woman with strawberry blonde hair cut into a blunt, chin length bob, and her blue eyes were magnified by the large, round framed glasses that sat on her nose. She reminded Silco of what a Yordle might look like in human form. 

“Hey, Mariah,” Silco said as he approached, offering a tight smile. Mariah wasn’t exactly Silco’s supervisor, but she did oversee the work that he did in the library on the days when his supervisor wasn’t there.

“Are you doing alright?” 

Her question stopped him short. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Mariah gave him a look that suggested he wasn’t hiding his emotions particularly well. “You look equal parts like someone pissed in your cereal and like you’re half-ready to kill someone. Need to talk about it?”

Silco considered it. He didn’t have a lot of friends other than Felicia, and maybe Sevika. He was closer with Felicia than he was Sevika, but he wouldn’t say either of them were people he felt comfortable being overly vulnerable with, even after being friends with Felicia for over a year. Then there was Lest, who was more of a neutral party than the other two, but it wasn’t as though he saw her regularly enough to debrief her on the drama that was his life these days. Mariah was a true outsider to the situation, and while the two of them had talked about classes and other things during their time working together in the library, Silco wasn’t sure how much he wanted to share with someone who was essentially a stranger.

“Just dealing with some personal stuff, that’s all,” he said vaguely. “People sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.” She didn’t look convinced.

“That sucks, I’m sorry.” She tapped her pen against the desk a couple of times, and Silco was ready to leave it when she asked, “Does it have anything to do with that cute tall guy you were in the stacks with a few weeks ago?”

Shit. Had someone seen them? Silco felt a fresh wave of embarrassed heat wash over him.

“Hmm?” Silco asked, playing dumb. “When was that?”

Mariah smiled. “Before midterms? I thought I saw the two of you talking in the stacks. He didn’t seem like he was bothering you, but I can keep an eye out, if he is.”

Silco let out a slow breath. So she hadn’t seen them making out at the study table at least. “Oh. No, yeah, he wasn’t bothering me.” It wasn’t really a lie. Vander hadn’t been bothering him in the way Mariah was probably insinuating. “His friends seem to think there’s something going on between us and won’t leave well enough alone.”

“Oh, got it. Is there?”

“What?”

“Something going on between you?”

Suddenly Silco didn’t feel like Mariah was a safe neutral party anymore, and he narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so curious?”

Mariah gave him a confused look. “You brought it up. I’m just asking you a follow up question. That’s how a conversation works.”

Silco relaxed slightly. “Sorry. I’m just a bit on edge about it.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you so on edge about it?” she asked.

Silco sighed. This was more information than he'd intended to spill. “His friends have a bet about us.”

Mariah wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, that's gross. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, it’s also not the worst thing I’ve heard. So what’s the issue? Is there something going on between you? Would it be a problem if there was?”

“Feels a bit like I’m being interrogated,” Silco said with a humorless laugh.

“Sorry,” Mariah said with a soft laugh of her own. “I promise I’m not a spy for the other side. You don’t have to tell me, obviously,” she replied. “Just…trying to understand the situation.” That still didn’t explain why she would care in the first place. 

“We’ve…hooked up. A couple times,” Silco finally said.

“And you don’t want his friends to know?”

“Some of them already do,” he said.

“So what’s the problem?”

Silco didn’t know what to say. Did he really care if Vander’s teammates found out they’d slept together? It stood to reason that their lives would be easier if his friends did know. Then at least they’d stop talking about them. 

Mariah’s eyes moved to look past Silco’s shoulder, and he glanced behind at a student who was approaching the desk. “I should go,” he said. 

Mariah looked like she wanted to stop him, but instead she gave him a sad smile as he shifted his bag and moved out of the way. “See you later, Silco.” 

He stored his bag and his jacket in the back room and made his way upstairs to the stacks where a cart loaded with books for reshelving was waiting for him. He put in his headphones and started the newest episode of his favourite podcast and got to work. Maybe he could manage to have a few hours of working where he wouldn’t have to think about Vander fucking Oreson.

– – –

Silco had managed to make it through his work study without incident, but the universe apparently hated him, so he really should have expected something like Felicia texting as soon as he opened the door to his room. Why couldn’t he just get a fucking break?

Fel: Hey, where are you right now?

Silco: I just got home. Why?

Fel: I’m coming to see you.

Silco briefly considered his options: go back to the library and hide out or stay here and face Felicia. Given the events of the morning, and her run-in with Vander in the hall the day before, he didn’t have to think hard about what it was she was coming to talk to him about. It was probably best to just get this over with. 

He decided to tidy up his space while he waited, which at least felt slightly productive. He’d only managed to clear up his side table of evidence from last night when there was a knock at the door. Janna, had she run there? Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and opened it for Felicia to barrel inside. Silco was well and truly cornered, a feeling that he was all together too familiar with for his relatively young age. Felicia could be scary when she wanted to be, and he had the sinking feeling that she was reaching the point of bullying him. She looked around his room like it was a crime scene, or like she expected someone to suddenly pop out of hiding.

”To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Silco asked.

Felicia gave him an unimpressed look and finally sat on the unused bed that he had pushed against the far wall and usually used for extra seating or as a spot to hold his laundry before he folded it. ”Cut the shit, Silco. Why are you being a dick to Vander?”

Silco felt himself bristle. “I’m not being a dick to anyone, Felicia. Honestly—“ What had they been saying at breakfast? What had Vander told them? It would be like Silco to actually like—no. He wasn’t about to spiral about this.

“Fine, you’re not being a dick to him,” Felicia conceded. Silco felt his shoulders lower an inch. “But you’re being cagey as fuck about him. You slept with him— twice, I might add—and you don’t want me telling Connol. That’s fine, it’s not his business, but you don’t normally care about that. So, what’s going on?” Felicia had this horrible talent for being genuinely caring to a degree that made Silco’s skin itch.

“Nothing is going on.” He crossed his arms over his chest. He felt pinned under her scrutinizing gaze.

“After the first time you were quick to say you weren’t dating—”

“We’re not,” Silco rushed to confirm. She didn’t look convinced. “Am I not allowed to keep my personal life personal?”

“Of course you are,” Felicia said, and she was up on her feet again, pacing around Silco’s room as she spoke. He’d barely moved since she arrived, standing next to his desk, and Felicia moved around the space as though it was her’s and not his. He watched as she crossed to the shelf with his crate of records, flipping through them before turning on her heel to face him. “This just feels different. You’ve never been public about you and Marcus hooking up but you’ve never been weird about people knowing, either.”

Sometimes Silco hated that Felicia was so perceptive. But he was good at piecing things together, too. He’d seen her following Vander out of the cafeteria. Had he said something to her? He wanted to ask, but he knew that if he did that would only encourage her doggedness about what was going on with them. 

And what was going on with them? They’d hooked up a couple of times. That’s all it was. 

Except, in spite of his admitted inexperience, sex with Vander was better than any partner that Silco had had before. And he felt an unexplainable possessiveness when he was with him. His thoughts drifted to the simple act of Lest brushing Vander’s shoulders to settle the fabric of a shirt and how jealous he’d been of that casual touch. And it’s not like Silco was kicking Vander out of bed after they had sex, either. He’d actually been more than happy to have Vander in bed with him, lingering, sharing lazy kisses that turned into more.

No, he just waited until the next morning after a rare night of decent sleep, when his lungs felt too big for his ribs to hold them and his heart was stuck in his throat. 

When his silence stretched longer than was reasonable, Felica crossed the room and gripped Silco’s shoulders tightly. “Silco Leach, you are a fucking idiot. Vander likes you. Capital ‘L’ likes you! And I know that’s hard to believe because of how difficult you make it for people, but he likes you. And you like him, even if you won’t actually admit it to me or to yourself. I know you think that because you grew up poor you can’t have nice things, or whatever, but you are allowed to be happy . You don’t always have to settle for second best.”

This was the second time in as many days that one of his friends had told him that he was an idiot, and just like with Lest, he knew he couldn’t disagree. The way his stomach twisted listening to Felicia talk was evidence enough of the fact.

“It’s easier to not be disappointed if I don’t know what I’m missing,” Silco said quietly. Admitting that felt like peeling his chest open to reveal something dark and greedy he tried to keep tucked away, like if he just starved it long enough, he wouldn’t want things he couldn’t have so desperately.

Felicia’s fingers tightened around his shoulders, nails biting into the muscle until he winced, finally looking her in the face. “I’m only going to say this once: you are already being disappointed by not having what you actually want . Vander isn’t going to wait around forever. If you wait too long to get your shit together, he’ll find someone else.”

Silco opened his mouth to respond, but Felicia cut him off. “If you tell me that Vander deserves better or some bullshit, I swear to every god that I will punch you in the face.”

His closed his mouth with a click and Felicia released him. His shoulders ached where her nails bit into him and he reached up to rub at the tender skin. “I love you, Sil, but I will not stand idly by and watch you miss out on a good thing. Use that big brain to get your shit together.” She gave him one more stern look before turning on her heel to leave.

The door closed behind Felicia with a soft click of the latch, and Silco stood in the middle of his room, feeling both dumbfounded and bowled over, and having no good god damned idea what he was supposed to do.

— — —

Somehow, even with his course load, work study, and the finals study groups he’d joined, Silco still managed to be fixated on Vander. After Felicia’s visit—or reality check, if he was feeling particularly honest with himself—Silco felt even more hyper aware of Vander than he had been before. He would see him around campus in passing, never long enough to interact with him, and yet his stomach filled with firelights every time he caught so much as a glimpse of the other man. It was maddening, and he had no time to deal with it. 

The end of the semester was rushing towards him, and any free time he had between classes was dedicated to his school work. He and Vander hadn’t arranged a time to meet to do the final work on their sociology assignment yet either, and that was a whole other kettle of fish that Silco wasn’t prepared to manage. The due date simply loomed over Silco, circled in red on his calendar like some kind of harbinger of doom.

According to Felicia, the rugby team was gearing up for the finals after a couple of key losses from other schools and they were having more intense practices than ever. If the jam packed schedule Vander had shown him all those weeks ago was any indication, it seemed like their regular training schedule was already pretty intense. He felt a bit guilty hoping that Vander had the ability to work on their assignment between everything else. Despite Vander’s various assurances that he wouldn’t let Silco down, he was trying to manage his expectations.

His earlier concern that he’d be carrying the weight of their assignment had lessened slightly after their first couple of meetings, but that worry began to rear its head once more knowing that Vander was bogged down with sports practices. 

He was reviewing his portion of the assignment, chewing on the end of his pen as he tried to concentrate. He’d been thinking about texting Vander for days but hadn’t been able to bring himself to open that particular floodgate. It was getting late, the words starting to smudge together on his laptop, and he was out of coffee. He should really just text Vander and ask. Texting about the assignment would be fine.

Instead, he opened a new tab on his laptop and searched for the rugby schedule, groaning when it loaded.

The week before the assignment was due, there was an away game against the Frejlord Vikings, which meant at least two days that Vander would be off campus travelling and for the game itself. He had been on similar trips for debate in high school, and he was intimately familiar with how difficult it was to get school work done on a bus or in a hotel room. And that was when he’d been traveling with a group of studious nerds; he could only imagine it would be worse with a rambunctious rugby team.

They’d have to find time in the middle of the week or meet in the days before the assignment was due, which was not even close to ideal.

He chewed his lip, trying to figure out the best course of action, before finally pulling out his phone and bringing up his message history with Vander. He did his best to ignore the way his heart fluttered as he typed out his message.

SL: The deadline on our sociology assignment is coming up. What’s your schedule like? We should try and find some time to get together.

He didn’t expect to get an answer right away, and he reminded himself that that was fine. Initiating the conversation was the important part. He turned his attention back to the assignment he was working on, but his focus was split. Now that he’d sent the text message, his eyes couldn’t help but stray every few seconds to his phone where it rested on the table to see if there was a response, as if he didn’t have his phone set to vibrate and would somehow miss an incoming text.

He tried to refocus on his work, opening his history textbook to review the material his professor had mentioned would be on the final exam, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Vander. He couldn’t help but think about what Felica had said. Vander likes you. Capital L likes you . It felt childish to think about it that way, but there wasn’t really a good way of qualifying the intensity of someone’s feelings unless you were talking about the other L word, which Silco was not going to consider. Silco still wasn’t sure how to categorize what he was feeling. Once he might have been able to tell himself he merely tolerated Vander, but that wasn’t true, was it?

He thought about the jealous pang he’d felt when Felicia had off-handedly admitted she would have hooked up with Vander, or when Lest had casually brushed her hands over Vander’s shoulders. In theory he liked the idea of being able to touch Vander openly like that, and yet…

Silco had never been in a relationship before. They terrified him. With all the unspoken rules and expectations, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to manage keeping up. Felicia believed he made things harder for himself because he didn’t think he deserved nice things, but really he’d never had a lot of close relationships, familial or otherwise. His parents had died when he was young, too young to remember them, and his grandmother did her best with what they had. She loved him, and they had been close, but then she had died, too. 

Silco had been used to fending for himself, but nothing could have prepared him for being truly on his own at sixteen, shuffled off to a group home until he aged out of the system. He’d kept to himself there, not interested in anything besides keeping his head down and making it to university. He had no model for what real relationships were meant to look like, how they worked, save for what he read in books or saw on television, and he knew those were an inaccurate depiction. A fantastical version of reality. Hooking up with people was comfortable, to a point, but Vander didn’t want to just hook up, did he? 

No, he wanted to go to breakfast after sleeping with Silco, wanted to take care of him, make sure that he was comfortable as he fell asleep. He did things like try to get to know Silco, find out his tastes, his preferences. Those were relationship things, and Silco had no idea what to do with them. Maybe it was the intensity of Vander’s desire that scared Silco the most.

The buzzing of his phone on the table drew him out of his reminiscing, and he frowned at what he saw. It was just as he expected.

Vander Oreson: Uhhhh….it doesn’t look good. I am so bogged down with classes and practice. I can spare some time on Wednesday, Saturday, or Monday.

Silco tapped his fingers on the table. Wednesday he had classes most of the day and a study group in the evening. Saturday he had his work study, although that wasn’t all day, so he could make it work. He could probably get out of it for the sake of classes if it was an emergency, but he wasn’t sure he could lose the money. That only left Monday.

Silco : Why don’t you send me what you have and I can compile both our parts so when we do meet we can be as efficient as possible.

VO: What? No. You don’t need to do that.

S: I know I don’t *need* to, I’m offering. 

VO: You’re not going to rewrite anything, are you?

S: Do I need to?

He grimaced at the message right after it was sent. He meant it in a joking way, but he didn’t think Vander would read his tone through his text message.

VO: No! No! What I’ve got is solid. 

Yeah, his question definitely didn’t read as a joke. He pressed the top edge of his phone against his forehead, considering if he should even try to explain himself. In the end, he decided against it; explaining would just be awkward and draw things out needlessly.

S: Send me your part and let’s meet on Monday.

— — —

In the end, Vander didn't send Silco his half of their paper until Saturday night. It was closer to Sunday than not when Silco got the alert on his laptop. Silco rolled his eyes at the late delivery. No one had to know though, and Vander had said that he was busy with everything. 

He took his time working their two halves of the project together, having an easier time than he would have expected. Vander’s work was good. Better than good. Vander’s ability to objectively quantify the facts and figures and interpret the data in the tables from their sources was impressive. Silco would never admit it, but he spent most of the hours before dawn adding to his sections, expanding on points that Vander had included that Silco had overlooked.

He didn’t think he was the smartest person alive or anything, but he could clearly imagine Vander’s smug grin if he found out that his portion was better than Silco’s. It looked like the same satisfied smirk he’d had after kissing Silco in Bridgewaltz, a look that made Silco burn. Familiar want trickled down his spine, pooling in his stomach. Vander Capital L liked Silco, and he was rapidly coming to realize that he liked being wanted by someone. 

“Fucking get it together, Leach,” Silco muttered, pressing his hands against his face. He said his own last name like a curse, like the kids back in the group home had, like it was a reminder that he would never be satisfied with what he had. He would never be able to satiate the desperate need he felt for more . His hands shook as he grabbed his pack of cigarettes, flicking his window open and turning on his fan to usher the smoke outside.

He still didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw Vander again. Winter break was so close. He just had to make it until then, and then he would have a few weeks to get over himself. 

His phone buzzed next to his elbow, jerking him out of his melodramatic pondering, and he scowled as he checked the screen.

Marcus: hey

Marcus: you up?

Shit. Silco squinted against the light, considering. Was he? Obviously, yes, but was he willing to let Marcus know that? He ashed his cigarette as he weighed his options. Usually Marcus was quick, so it wouldn’t be a huge commitment of Silco’s time. And he never stayed the night. Maybe Silco just needed a good, easy fuck to clear his head of all things Vander. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Silco: yeah

Marcus: swt be there in a few

Silco sighed. He should brush his teeth; Marcus hated kissing him after he smoked. Not that Marcus did a lot of kissing in the first place. But that was fine. Silco didn't need to be kissed a lot. He wasn’t some kind of fairy tale princess, and Marcus certainly wasn’t any kind of prince.

Instead, Silco stubbed out his nearly finished cigarette and grabbed another.

Chapter Text

Monday was a shit day for a multitude of reasons, but Vander hated it in particular because of his calculus lecture. Math was not even close to being Vander’s favourite class. He had a good head for most subjects, and he'd never struggled when he was a kid, but then the math got complicated and made less sense to him each year. He was only in this class to fulfill a credit. Then he would be free, able to live in a world where the most complicated arithmetic was helping to balance his parent’s books at the bar. As long as he passed this class. 

If it wasn’t for Connol, he would most definitely be struggling to pass. Even with Connol’s help, he was barely scraping by. 

At least this late in the semester they weren’t learning many new concepts, instead focusing on the things that would be on their final exam. One of the reasons Vander’s schedule was so full was because he had signed up for every available study group he could manage to ensure that he passed the class.

“Hey, man, how’re you feeling?” Connol asked as he rushed into the seat Vander had saved for him. Connol had obviously run from his previous seminar, his boyish face red from the chilled air outside.

“Still hurts,” Vander grunted, trying to make sense of a particular logarithm. His knee throbbed under his desk, wrapped up in a brace after he’d sprained it during the game against Freljord that weekend. It was a shit time to be injured with semifinals right around the corner. Against everyone’s expectations, the Trenchers were positioned to be in the running for finals, all they needed to do was win their next game. But with Vander sidelined for at least a couple of weeks, if not for the rest of the season, the possibility felt slim.

“That sucks, man. Did the doctor give you an idea of when you’d be back on the pitch?” Connol asked, unpacking his stuff for the class. Vander could only shrug. He had another appointment with the team physician tomorrow to check his progress, since the swelling had been so bad right after the injury. Vander hadn’t done himself any favors by continuing to play after he’d twisted it, hoping to walk it off. “Well, at least you don’t have to wake up early to work out.” Vander appreciated his friend’s attempt to cheer him up, but his spirits remained firmly pressed against the floor. This logarithm still wasn’t making sense.

On top of everything, Vander had a meeting with Silco to finalize their paper right after class. Between worrying about the rugby season and the curling anticipation of seeing Silco again, he wasn’t focused on numbers.

“What page are you working on?” Connol asked. Vander shifted his textbook to show him the page number, and Connol flipped to it easily. “Alright, my man, where’re you having trouble?” Vander felt another swell of gratitude and let Connol explain how to solve this stupid fucking problem.

Their professor had a pretty consistent habit of running late for class, so Vander used the time to have Connol try to make the formulas and solutions stick. 

Movement at the end of their row of seats caught Vander’s eye, and he glanced over to see Marcus strutting up the steps. He’d never really paid attention to Marcus before Connol had mentioned him hooking up with Silco, but now a pit of jealousy opened in his gut every time he saw the other man. He did his best to keep a lid on it because Silco wasn't his , but he hated knowing that Marcus also knew how Silco tasted, how he sounded when he came, how he felt when he shivered with ecstasy.

He stayed hyper aware of Marcus settling in the row behind him, listening to him unpack his bag and grumble about the class being so early.

“Feeling tired, Marcus?” Connol asked with a chuckle. Vander gave his friend a sharp look, not that Connol noticed. Connol was twisted in his seat, giving Marcus his full attention, though Vander couldn’t fathom why Marcus was so interesting.

Vander could hear the smirk in Marcus’ voice as he said, “Yeah. You know how it is. When the booty calls, it’s best to answer.” Vander twitched but kept his eyes glued to his page. He heard Connol snicker. “I figure it’s the least I can do, considering some people can’t seem to seal the deal.” Vander could feel Marcus’ looking at him; he knew when he was being baited, but that didn’t mean he had to stoop to Marcus Hii’s level. “Honestly, Oreson, I’m surprised that you’ve been having such a hard time chasing after Leach, considering he has no qualms about bending over for pretty much anyone else. What’s going on, man?”

“Woah, Marcus, there’s no need for all that,” Connol said. 

Vander shot Connol a glare. It was only because Connol couldn’t keep his mouth shut that Marcus knew about his business in the first place. He turned around to regard Marcus as he lounged back in his seat with a shit eating grin spread across his smarmy face. 

“It’s none of your business,” Vander said flatly, turning back towards the front. 

Marcus laughed meanly. “Hey, man, it’s ok. Even someone like Silco has to have standards, right?”

Vander’s fingers tightened around the pencil in his hand and he felt the faint crack of the wood against his palm. He wanted to stab the broken utensil into Marcus’ smug, laughing face. 

“You’re not missing out on much, honestly. Silco’s a decent lay, but he’s nothing to write home about,” he continued, blissfully unaware of Vander’s rising anger.

Bile rose in the back of Vander’s throat, a mix of jealousy and fury that Marcus had put his hands on Silco and had the audacity not to cherish the opportunity. 

“I could put a good word in for you, if you want,” he continued. “Y’know, talk you up next time he’s busy su—“ 

Vander was moving before his brain registered what he was doing. Pain sparkled along his knuckles as his fist connected with Marcus’ face, sending him flying backwards into his seat, the force of his fall pushing the chair back into the desks behind him with a crash. The people closest to them shouted, a chorus of confusion and shock that beckoned students from across the room to pay attention.

Vander loomed over Marcus, jaw set, eyes blazing, chest heaving. “Keep his fucking name out of your mouth,” he spat.

“What the fuck?!” Marcus cried with a pained howl. “I think you broke my fucking nose!” Hardly. Vander knew what a broken nose sounded like.

“Janna, Vander. What the fuck!?” Connol said. He grabbed Vander’s shoulder but Vander shook him off, sending a black look in his friend’s direction. He was still seething, eager for another outlet. 

“Hopefully next time you’ll think before you fucking speak,” Vander snarled at Marcus, feeling a sick amount of satisfaction when the asshole flinched away from him. He grabbed his bag, shoving his textbook and whatever else was on his desk into it without care, and stormed out of the lecture hall before he did more than merely punch Marcus. 

He vaguely heard Connol calling his name as he made his way down the hall and slammed open the door that led outside, pulling in the cool, late fall air into his lungs, trying to calm down before he did something else stupid. His knee throbbed from the sudden movement, the pain only serving to further ground him.

“Vander! Hold the fuck up, man.” Connol finally caught up with him, grabbing his shoulder again. This time Vander let him. “Vander, my guy, what the fuck was that all about?”

“I LIKE HIM, OKAY?” he shouted, throwing his hands into the air. “We slept together—not that it’s anyone’s fucking business —and I like him! Even if that wasn’t the fucking case, I’m not just going to sit there listening to Marcus spew shit about him.”

Connol held his hands up placatingly as he stepped back. “Woah. Ok. And we’re talking about Silco here?”

“ Yes ,” Vander said. How was that not obvious?

“Just making sure,” Connol said with a cautious smile. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Vander let out a frustrated huff, his breath fogging into a cloud in the cold. “Because there was that stupid fucking bet, and you and Benzo talk so much shit about Silco…I just–I don’t know. I didn’t feel like having my friends judge me.” 

Connol had the good sense to look chagrined, scratching the back of his head. “Okay, yeah, I can see that. We didn’t realize that you actually—I mean, if you like him, that’s cool. We wouldn’t actually care that you’re dating him.” 

“We’re not dating,” Vander said, heart squeezing painfully in his chest.

“Maybe not now,” Connol replied, “but you want to, right?”

At this point, Vander just wanted Silco, in whatever way Silco would have him, but he wasn’t ready to voice that kind of pathetic desperation to Connol. Not when Connol had said that Vander could do better. Not when he thought that Vander just needed to get this out of his system. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, defeated. “But I don’t think he wants to.” Vander sank down onto a nearby bench, dropping his head into his hands.

“Have you even told him you like him?” Connol pressed. Vander felt his friend settle on the bench next to him and he sighed.

“No.”

“Well, maybe you should.” Connol said it like telling Silco would be easy, like he was confident that Silco wouldn’t shut Vander down like he had after they’d slept together. He still didn’t understand what had changed, and he didn’t think Silco would appreciate him asking about it when they met up later.

“Is Marcus okay?” Vander asked, side-stepping the conversation. He didn’t really care if he was, but it felt appropriate to at least ask. Connol didn’t call him on his very obvious attempt to change the subject.

“He’ll be fine,” Connol said. “He’ll have one hell of a shiner, but he’ll live.” They sat together in comfortable silence for a moment, and then Connol opened his mouth once more and ruined it. “So…when you say you slept together…when did that happen, exactly?”

“Gods, are you fucking serious?” Vander said and let out an exasperated huff. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I know there’s that fucking bet, but I’m also just curious how long all this has been going on.”

Vander sighed. That was fair, he supposed. “The first time—”

“First time!?” Connol cried. “Sorry. Sorry,” he apologised, schooling his expression. “Not the point. Go on.”

“The first time,” Vander repeated, “was just before midterms, a little after we got our pairing for our sociology assignment.”

“Damn,” Connol whispered and Vander knew he was calculating who on the team had won the bet, but chose to ignore it.

“The second time was a couple weeks ago. You know that day I stormed out of the cafeteria?”

Connol chuckled. “It’s been happening so often, it’s almost hard to keep track,” he joked. Vander punched him in the shoulder and Connol sobered. “Ok, so you’ve hooked up a few times, and what? You’re catching feelings?”

“I can’t get him out of my head. I’m so fucking pathetic, Connol.”

There was the weight of an arm around Vander’s shoulders as Connol shifted closer. “It can’t be helped, I’m afraid. You remember before Fel and I started dating? I was absolutely sick about her, acting a damn fool.” Vander snorted; acting a damn fool was how Sevika had described him, and that was her putting it lightly. “I’m sure you guys were relieved when we finally got our shit together. Honestly, man, falling in love is like being a marionette with all your strings cut.”

Is that what was happening? Was Vander falling in love with Silco?

There was a soft look on Connol’s face and Vander realised that Connol was talking more about himself. It was no surprise to know he was in love with Felicia. It was good even—to know that his friends were so happy together. He swallowed hard against the bitter taste of jealousy on the back of his tongue.

+   +   +

Mondays weren’t the absolute worst day of Silco’s week, but this particular Monday was being entirely offensive. He was able to convince himself that staying up too late had been the reason why he was dragging throughout the morning, but now that his meeting with Vander was quickly approaching…

Sleeping with Marcus had been a mistake. He knew it was when he texted Marcus back, but something about the cold light of day made it all seem so much worse.

Marcus wasn’t bad in bed. Not technically. He was just selfish. Before, Silco was able to ignore that, was able to tell himself that he didn’t need more than what little Marcus could give him. Now, all he could think about was how different his experience with Vander had been. By comparison, it was clear that Marcus only texted him to fuck something other than his own hand. He barely kissed Silco, instead going straight for his neck or shoulder, staking a claim. Honestly, Marcus didn’t touch him more than necessary and didn’t really bother with prioritizing anything but his own pleasure.

How had that ever been enough?

Silco considered his textbook he was supposed to be studying with a scowl. He told himself he wasn’t hiding in the library, and he wasn’t. Not really. He just didn’t want to go back to his room right now. He didn’t want to smell Marcus on his sheets. And he'd have to come to the library anyway to meet up with Vander, so he wasn’t hiding; he was making practical decisions.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone to check the time; maybe he could run for coffee. Except instead of noticing the time, he took in the massive amount of notifications he had missed while his phone was on do not disturb, all from Marcus.

“What the fuck?” Silco muttered, swiping them open.

Missed call from Marcus H

Missed call from Marcus H

Marcus: pick up your fucking phone leach

Missed call from Marcus H

Marcus: fuck you 

Marcus: you too good to talk to me now?

Missed call from Marcus H

Missed call from Marcus H

Missed call from Marcus H

Marcus: you know what? 

Marcus: lose my number 

Marcus: a convenient piece of ass isn’t worth this trouble

Marcus: do me a favor and put your fucking mutt on a leash

Silco scrolled through the messages, trying to make any sense of what Marcus was saying. He tapped out a response after a few long minutes, ignoring how his hands were shaking.

Silco: my phone was on dnd

Silco: what are you talking about?

He didn’t have to wait long for a response, his phone screen lighting up with an incoming call. He bit his lip, giving the surrounding area a quick sweep to check for other students or library staff. Technically he shouldn’t be answering calls in the library, but it seemed he was alone. 

“Hey, Marcus, what the—“

“For someone you apparently won’t fuck, Vander sure will go to bat for you.” Vander? What? Marcus barreled on before Silco could even think about responding. “I’ve never seen someone simp so hard for a mediocre piece of ass.” Silco scowled; Marcus had texted him last night! He opened his mouth to say as much, but Marcus just kept going. “If you didn’t want to sleep with me anymore you could have just said so.”

Silco furrowed his brow, his head spinning as he tried to piece together whatever the fuck Marcus was talking about. He could feel his pulse thundering in his temples. “Could I buy some fucking context?” he asked, finally, trying to sound unfazed but sure that he was failing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Marcus laughed bitterly. It sounded like he was walking somewhere, snatches of background noise filtering through the receiver. “I was talking to your dog in our class this morning and he fucking punched me! For a big guy his has some thin fucking skin if he can’t even take a joke.”

“Wait, he hit you?” Silco slumped back in his chair like his strings had been cut. 

“Are you fucking deaf, Leach?” Marcus spat. “Yes. He fucking hit me. Broke my fucking nose protecting your honour or some shit.” Somewhere, freshly buried feelings clawed their way up his throat, making his heart squeeze. He did his best to shove them back down, to prioritize and not get swept up in the moment knowing that Vander had hit someone , all for Silco. Allegedly.

“What does that even mean? ” Silco snapped, quickly losing his patience with both Marcus and his own ridiculousness.

“It means that the giant bitch baby couldn’t handle the fact that you won’t fuck him!” Silco felt the pen in his hand creak with how hard he was holding it. Good to know that Marcus had no qualms about talking about him, to Vander of all people. The words in his textbook swam as his eyes started to get hot, but he refused to let this asshole get to him.

Through the haze of confusion and fury, Silco realized that he could hear footsteps and his eyes snapped up from his textbook to where Vander was approaching the table. In any other context, Silco might find the way Vander was failing to make himself look smaller funny, but Marcus was still yelling at him.

“In case my texts weren’t clear, lose my fucking number, and put your fucking mutt on a leash.” Marcus continued ranting, but Silco couldn’t hear him anymore, instead laser-focused as he watched the way Vander winced as he sat at the end of the table, clearly able to hear what Marcus was saying. The call ended just as abruptly as it had started, and Silco set his phone back on the table, still just as confused as he was reading Marcus’ texts.

“Was that Marcus?” Vander asked quietly. He looked almost shamefaced as he spoke, hunched forward over the table, his elbow braced on the edge. He was tapping his thumbs together. A nervous habit, maybe. Silco couldn’t recall ever seeing Vander nervous before, but then again he had never been paying that much attention.

“Yes.” Silco set his pen on the table, deliberately slow as he did his best to reel in everything he was feeling. “He said you hit him.”

“I did.” Silco sucked in a sharp breath, waiting for Vander to elaborate.

When Vander didn’t, he snapped, “Why? He said you were protecting my honor? What the hell does that mean?” Why did he care so much? 

Vander grimaced. “He was shit-talking you and I just…I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.”

“How does breaking his nose just happen? What did he say that was so bad, exactly?” Silco’s stomach twisted as his brain supplied a plethora of vitriol Marcus could have been spewing, each possibility worse than the last. Not to mention that Vander knew Silco had slept with Marcus. He shouldn’t care that Vander knew; they were nothing to each other, not even friends, but Silco couldn’t stop the sick feeling of shame churning where his heart should be.

Vander’s face turned dark and his jaw tightened. That shouldn’t look so attractive. Silco shouldn’t like this. Liking this was dangerous. “I’d rather not repeat it. But I didn’t break his nose.” 

So it had been really bad then. For Vander to behave like that, to hit someone over Silco. His stomach tightened into an anxious knot. No one had ever hit someone for him before. Sleeping with Marcus was supposed to make things easier, to make him not think about Vander and his easy smiles, his earnest insistence in getting under Silco’s skin. 

Later. He could freak out about this later. With a bottle of gin and a fresh pack of cigarettes. He closed his textbook and pushed it to the side before opening his laptop. Focus, get through this, and don’t feed the greedy beast inside his chest, gnashing it’s maw for more.

— — —

Vander wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was expecting when he heard Marcus yelling through Silco’s phone. Anger, probably. Embarrassment, maybe? He wouldn’t have been surprised if Silco decided to tear into him, verbally rip Vander to shreds for poking his nose in Silco’s business. 

Instead of all that, Vander watched the process of Silco composing himself, the anger and confusion smoothing into bland nothingness. He thought he could still see some of that seething in Silco’s eyes, but it was gone in a blink.

“Right, well,” Silco finally said, sitting up straighter. It was almost frightening to see Silco step behind neatly constructed walls. Vander’s stomach twisted. More than anything, he wanted to ask Silco not to shut him out; but he wasn’t really in the position to ask Silco for anything, was he? “I suppose I should thank you. For defending my honor, or whatever.” It felt almost like how he’d thanked him for saving him from the Pilty outside the bar all those months ago. He was no less surprised by this thanks, however sarcastic it sounded accompanied by a weak sneer, than he was the first time. 

The dread that had settled in Vander’s stomach as he'd been approaching the table spread, leaving him feeling cold. Looking at Silco now, no one would ever believe that he had looked…small, almost. Smaller than Vander had ever seen him. Hitting Marcus was so royally stupid, but looking at Silco now, he didn’t regret it; the guy deserved it for all the things he was saying. But he wasn’t proud that he’d let his anger get the better of him like that.

An awkward silence settled between them before Vander cleared his throat. “Should we go over our assignment?”

“Right.” Silco said, his voice clipped as he moved his laptop to give Vander a better vantage point of the screen, focusing on it instead of the still chagrined look on Vander’s face. “So, I’ve merged our two portions into a single document—decent work, by the way.” Vander felt himself preen slightly at the praise, teasing as it was. He couldn’t help but feel a bit smug, considering Silco had assumed he would fail to hold his own weight. “We just need to craft an introduction and conclusion, and we should be done.”

Vander took a few minutes to skim through the entire assignment. Silco managed to marry their individual parts really well. “It’s good,” Vander said. He leaned back a bit, offering Silco a small smile that felt like a peace offering of sorts.

“It is good,” Silco agreed. 

“I told you I wouldn’t disappoint you,” Vander added, and Silco rolled his eyes. Vander decided he was more exasperated rather than annoyed. 

“So you did,” Silco conceded. He shifted a bit, his long legs knocking with Vander’s under the table. Vander hissed as his knee twinged and he reached under it to press his hand against the brace. “Are you alright?”

Vander grimaced. “Yeah, I’m good. I, uh…sprained my knee during our game this weekend.” Silco frowned, his posture getting slightly softer.

“Does that mean you can’t play anymore?” Silco asked gently. Vander’s heart jumped at the concern in Silco’s voice. 

Vander nodded. “For a bit. I’ve got a meeting with the team doctor later this week to assess the damage.” Silco was fidgeting with his pen, rolling it between his thumb and first two fingers. He had really pretty fingers, long and elegant, with slightly knobby knuckles. Vander shrugged, trying to break some of the tension. “Honestly, chances are good that I’m out for the rest of the season, not that it’ll matter if we don’t make finals. And that’s if the whole thing with—well, the whole thing doesn’t bench me first.”

The renewed mention of Marcus hung in the air between them like a stinking cloud. Silco went rigid again, his brows furrowed.

“You really shouldn’t have hit him,” Silco muttered. Vander wanted to hold his hand. He kept them firmly on the table in front of him.

“I shouldn’t have let him talk about you in the first place. Just because you two—“ Vander stopped short as Silco flinched, a just barely there movement that Vander would have missed if he wasn’t staring so intently at him. “That doesn’t give him the right to say shit about you.” Silco finally looked up from his hands, the pen going still as he blinked at Vander. His big blue-green eyes were wide with an amount of surprise that made Vander ache. “It’s not a big deal,” he lied, finally giving into temptation and grabbing Silco’s hand. 

“It really is,” Silco said, voice barely above a hoarse whisper. For a moment, Vander felt like he could see all of Silco for the first time, the raw, vulnerable bits that he guarded so ferociously on display. Vander wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that he didn’t care about the consequences, rugby scholarship be damned. 

“Silco, I—“ 

They both jumped when Vander’s phone started buzzing on the table. He rushed to silence it, but Silco was already snatching his hand back. His face was scarlet as he started to pack up his things, and Vander mourned their lost moment.

“So, I’ll just write the intro and conclusion and then you can do a final pass. I’ll email it to you.” 

“Silco—“ 

“Good luck,” Silco said. 

Vander’s phone started up again and Silco took the opportunity to leave, speed-walking towards the stairs before Vander could do anything.

“Shit!” Grabbing his phone, he swiped angrily at his notifications. “Stupid, stupid , Vander.” He had an email from the Dean of Students, summoning him to a meeting with his coach. He still wanted to chase after Silco, but he would barely have time to make it to the meeting if he left directly from the library. “ Shit. ”

+   +   +

When Vander arrived at the Dean’s office fifteen minutes later, Marcus was sitting in one of the available chairs outside, an ice pack pressed against his face. He removed the ice pack as Vander approached, revealing the blooming purple bruise around his eye and along his cheek bone. Apparently Marcus had never been in any kind of a scuffle before. If he had, he would never have claimed that Vander had broken his nose; the bruising was all wrong. Still, Vander winced, taking the other available seat and keeping to himself. Marcus only offered a sneer that looked more like a grimace. 

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long in tense silence. Only a few minutes passed before the door to the Dean’s office opened and a middle aged woman with greying brown hair and narrow reading glasses perched delicately on her nose stepped out. “Mr. Hii, Mr. Oreson. Please join us.” Vander had only seen the Dean at a distance, although anyone that looked at her for a moment could see that she carried herself with a severe, no-nonsense attitude, built no doubt by years of corralling students.

The two boys stood and stepped into the room where Vander’s rugby coach stood waiting, arms crossed over his chest. He took in the sight of Marcus’ face, still mostly covered by the ice pack, before turning a disappointed look on Vander that had him ducking his head and trying to make himself small. Dean Prospector gestured to the two chairs that sat facing her desk and arranged herself behind the desk, leaning forward to brace her elbows on the mahogany and steeple her fingers. 

“I’ve brought you both here because I received a disturbing report this morning of an altercation that occurred during one of your course periods. According to Mr. Hii, as well as several witnesses, you, Mr. Oreson, physically assaulted Mr. Hii. I don’t think I need to remind either of you about Zaun University’s policies related to violence of any kind.” She paused, giving them the opportunity to correct her. Vander kept his eyes glued to the front edge of her desk and shook his head. “I thought not. Mr. Oreson, do you have anything to say about what happened?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said quietly, daring to glance up between Dean Prospector and Coach Merrick.

“Speak up, Oreson,” Coach Merrick barked. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Vander repeated, louder this time. Marcus scoffed and Vander felt himself jutting his chin out defiantly. “Marcus was saying some…rude things about a friend of mine, even after I told him it wasn’t his business, and it happened before I realised what I was doing. I didn’t have time to think. It just…happened.” That was a weak excuse, and everyone in the room knew it. Coach Merrick scowled harder, somehow.

Dean Prospector frowned, unimpressed. “I see. As…admirable as it is that you were defending your friend, Mr. Oreson, violence is never the appropriate response.”

Vander hated that she kept calling him ‘Mr. Oreson’. No one called him that and just the sound of so much formality made his hair stand on end. “Yes, ma’am, I know.”

“Obviously something like this cannot go without consequences. Before we discuss the internal actions we intend to take, I must tell you, Mr. Hii, that given the damage to your person Mr. Oreson has caused, it would not be inappropriate for you to make a police report and press charges if you so wish.” Vander felt his heart stop. The Dean was right, of course. He’d committed assault, a crime , all without thinking. How could he have been so stupid? 

It really is , Silco had said when Vander tried to brush this off as nothing. Vander could still see Silco’s expression, how devastated he’d looked, like no one had ever stood up for him before. 

“No,” Marcus replied, shifting in his seat. “I don’t want to press charges.” 

Vander whipped around to face Marcus. “What?”

“Mr. Oreson,” Dean Prospector snapped, swiftly shutting down his interruption. “Mr. Hii, are you certain?”

Time seemed to crawl as Marcus looked over at Vander, his bruised face twisted into an uncomfortable scowl. Vander had seen people like Marcus his whole life, growing up in his parent’s bar. Assholes that talked a big game with no follow through, that acted tough until someone else shut them down. But Marcus had him dead to rights here. Sure, he’d been provoking Vander, but he probably never thought that Vander would do something so foolish as to assault him. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to deal with all that,” Marcus said finally. 

What the hell?

Dean Prospector and Coach Merrick shared a brief look before she settled back in her seat. “Alright. Such is your right, Mr. Hii. As for you, Mr. Oreson, it is my understanding that you have an injury that may hinder your ability to play the rest of the rugby season, although that would have been determined by an appointment with the athletic department’s physician.” She paused, giving Vander enough time to confirm her statement with a miserable nod of his head. “Playing rugby for Zaun University is a privilege, and the consequence of behavior against the student code of conduct is a loss of certain privileges.

“However, given that this is your first infraction and you have a clean academic record, and in consideration of the uncertainty of your being able to play, I have decided that you will be suspended from all team activities for the remainder of the season, whether or not you are cleared medically. In addition, you will be on a limited academic probation come the new semester.”

That was it? Vander felt like he was underwater as he tried to figure out the catch, what he was obviously missing. He wasn’t losing his scholarship, or being expelled, or arrested? He looked from the Dean to his coach, who just scowled back at him.

“What, uh, what does being suspended from team activities mean?” Vander finally asked, trying not to squirm as he practically begged for the other shoe to drop. 

“It means that you will not be able to attend team training, or represent Zaun University in any remaining games. I cannot stop you from attending as a spectator, if you want to support the team in that way.” That was really it? Sure, it sucked, but compared to everything else that could have happened… 

Vander had to suppress a hysterical laugh. “Right, got it.”

“Is there anything you would like to add, Coach Merrick?” Dean Prospector asked. 

“I expected more of you, Oreson.” And the giddy relief Vander had been feeling a moment before was snuffed out at his coach’s tone and expression. There would be hell to pay later, but Coach Merrick let the words hang for now.

“I trust that I will not have to see the two of you in any type of repeat incident moving forward,” Dean Prospector said, again waiting for them to nod to continue. “Mr. Oreson, I recommend that you keep your distance from Mr. Hii moving forward. You will receive a copy of the written notice of your punishment. Mr. Hii, you might consider refraining from particularly inflammatory language.The two of you are dismissed.”

Vander stood and followed Marcus out of the office in a daze. That was it. It was done. The whole thing took less than fifteen minutes. 

“You could still press charges,” Vander said before Marcus could walk away, repeating the Dean’s words. “Why don’t you?”

Marcus turned to look at him, tilting his chin up defiantly. The fluorescent lighting gave the bruising on his face a sickening shine. “Because you punched me in the face?” He snorted. “It’s not worth it.”

There was something in his tone that suggested there was more to his reticence, but Vander wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and press his luck. “Well…thanks,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Marcus said with a sneer. “You can do better than Silco Leach, Oreson, but I guess there’s no accounting for taste. If the two of you ever figure your shit out, I hope you’re real happy together. You fucking deserve each other.”

Vander’s fingers curled into a fist at his side and his jaw tightened. “You’d do well to shut up, Hii,” Vander said darkly.

Marcus smirked. “What? Was that too inflammatory for you? You gonna deck me again right here outside the Dean’s office? You’re not that stupid.”

Marcus was right, but that didn’t mean the desire to hit that smug fucking face wasn’t just as strong as it was earlier that morning. After a moment of tense silence between them, Marcus made a rude gesture at Vander with his fingers and turned to leave. It wasn’t until he’d disappeared from sight around the corner that Vander’s shoulders began to relax. 

— — —

Vander barely managed to make it through the rest of his afternoon, his remaining classes unable to distract him from thinking about Silco. He finally shouldered his way into his and Benzo’s room after dinner, heaving a relieved sigh when he saw that Benzo wasn’t back yet. Honestly he’d really like to talk to him about his physio appointment—about everything, honestly—but he’d been living in a dorm long enough not to look an empty room in the proverbial mouth.

He took his time unpacking his stuff, puttering around the room with a useless amount of energy; too much to sit still, but not enough that he was able to do anything productive. He wondered where Silco was, what he was doing. Was he still upset? Was it normal that all Vander wanted to do was see him? To let him know that things hadn’t been so bad. He’d probably be relieved to know that Marcus wasn’t pressing charges, right?

He ended up spending far too long thinking about Silco, then trying to stop thinking about Silco, then realizing that no matter what he tried, he was still thinking about Silco . He should be working on homework, or studying for any of the finals that were coming up, but instead he just kept scrolling on his phone. 

He was pairing up clean socks when his phone pinged with an email. He frowned when he realized that it was the first time he’d received a notification in the past few hours. That was weird, right? Especially after his meeting with the Dean and Coach Merrick. Not to mention that he wouldn’t have expected Connol to be able to keep his mouth shut.

Before he could spiral about the radio silence, he opened the email. He hadn't realized that Silco had meant that he would send the paper for a final pass within hours of leaving the library. Sure, it only needed an introduction and conclusion, but they still had a few days before it was due. Vander shoved his pile of socks to the side and pulled out his laptop to properly open Silco’s email. 

Their paper was good, not that Vander expected differently. Silco’s writing had a charmingly conversational style to it that invited the reader easily into their thesis and discussion and laid out their findings in the conclusion in a way that Vander couldn’t help but agree with, even though he’d been part of the research process.

He should probably just email Silco, but this was probably a good excuse to just text him, right?

V: Paper looks good!

He watched as two small check marks appeared under his message, followed by a brief flash of the little typing bubble popping up, only to disappear a moment later. Another minute went by and there was no response, but now that the seal had been broken, he sent another message. 

V: Had a meeting with the dean. No more rugby for the rest of the season.

Two more check marks appeared, and it was pathetic just how long Vander watched for that typing bubble to appear. In the end, he had to force himself to switch to a different app. He was almost certain that he wouldn’t get a response again, and that was fine. Really, it was. He should probably text Benzo, and he planned to do exactly that when Silco finally responded.

SL: I’m sorry to hear that.

Vander frowned, hoping that Silco didn’t feel responsible or anything. Vander was the one who couldn’t keep his fists to himself. Honestly, it was surprising that Felicia hadn’t blown up his phone by now, calling him an idiot. He frowned, checking his notifications anyway, just in case he’d missed something.

Nothing. No texts from anyone. Not Connol. Not Felicia. Something hard wrapped around his ribs; normally his friends were not shy about giving him shit, much less the other little ways they talked throughout the day. His phone wasn’t constantly going off or anything, but he could usually expect to hear from someone around dinner to ask if he wanted to go get food.

He swiped back to his conversation with Silco.

V: Hey, have you heard from Fel at all today?

SL: No. But that’s not unusual. Why?

He probably shouldn’t feel a small thrill just because Silco responded more quickly, and he definitely shouldn’t imagine that Silco was sitting at his desk, his phone open to their conversation, wanting to talk to Vander just as badly as Vander wanted to talk to him. But then, how many times had he wanted to do this? Just send Silco a message because he could? How many times had he talked himself out of it, convinced himself that Silco would be annoyed by him? Yet here they were, talking.

V: Dunno. Haven’t heard from anyone today. Just curious.

V: I told Connol. About the bet, btw.

V: Kind of had to explain why I hit Marcus.

It took longer for Silco to respond this time. Vander put his phone to the side, closing his eyes when his stomach swooped like he’d missed a step on a staircase. He counted his heartbeats as he waited, hoping that he hadn’t just fucked everything up. Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five. He was glad that Benzo was still fuck-knows-where so that no one could witness just how quickly he scrambled for his phone when it buzzed next to him.

SL: Oh. Ok.

Vander bit his lip. This could still be salvageable.

V: You’re not mad, are you?

SL: It’s probably for the best. Now they can stop asking about us.

That was true, objectively, but didn’t answer his question. He tried not to imagine Silco glowering at his phone, brows pinched down. At least they were on the same page; Vander had had that very thought the day before in the cafeteria.

He worried his lip as he tried to think of a response, typing and deleting at least half a dozen messages before letting his phone drop against his chest. He desperately—pathetically—wanted to continue the conversation, but he was at a loss for how to veer into a new topic. Would Silco answer a direct question, or would he be evasive like at the beginning of the semester? But even then, asking Silco what he was doing made him feel slimy, like he was trying to come onto him. 

Eventually, he accepted the fact that he should really leave it and sent off one last text.

V: Good night, Silco.

He smiled when Silco replied after only a moment.

SL: Good night, Vander.

He glanced at the time before doing a double-take; it was almost ten o’clock. “What the hell?” Benzo was usually back by then, and the absence of his roommate was curious. He knew that Benzo had been struggling this semester, that he’d had to skip out on various social gatherings in favour of study groups, but as far as Vander knew he didn’t have anything on this evening and none of the study groups ever went that late. 

V: Did you die or something? Haven’t heard from you all day.

Vander was surprised he hadn’t heard from Benzo at all. Janna knew Benzo had plenty that he could say, between decking Marcus in class to his admission to Connol that he liked Silco. And that didn’t even consider the confirmation that they’d slept together or his permanent benching for the rest of the season. He checked his notifications again.

He should just go to sleep and put the mess that was today behind him. Instead he reached for his phone, pulling up his conversation with Benzo. He watched as two little check marks appeared next to his message, but no response came through. Okay. That didn’t mean anything. Maybe Benzo was just somewhere he couldn’t message back.

Time to switch tactics. He opened his messages with Felicia.

V: hey, has everyone died or something? 

F: we’re still alive, bud

Vander’s stomach sank. So they just weren’t talking to him then?

V: on a scale of 1 - 10, how badly am I fucked here?

That little typing bubble popped up, each passing second making Vander nauseous. At least he knew that whatever the answer, Felicia wouldn’t bullshit him about this.

F: honestly? Maybe like a 6

F: like, super cool that you punched Marcus. He’s an asshole

F: less cool that you’re off the team for the rest of the season. 10/10 on considering the consequences there

Vander scowled. He didn’t need her to tell him that he’d fucked up. 

F: but i don’t think it’s anything that won’t blow over

F: Sevika is already collecting her winnings, so she’s happy lol

F: the real question is if Silco knows

V: he does

V: I met with him earlier for our paper and he was on the phone with Marcus

F: that’s a big yikes

F: what did Silco say?

V: he said that I shouldn’t have punched marcus

F:…well yeah

V: no, but like, he said it like i shouldn’t have punched Marcus for *him*

V: like he’s not worth the trouble or something

V: which is bullshit

F: oh damn

F: you’re really down bad for him

V: what are you talking about?

Felicia’s name flashed on his screen with an incoming call. He answered, frowning when she picked up their conversation without bothering to say hello. “Janna, V. You assaulted someone for your situationship and you’re upset that Silco told you he wasn’t worth potentially fucking up the trajectory of your life over. What else would you call it?” She had probably called him from a night out; he could hear noise in the background that sounded similar to his parents’ bar on a busy night.

“I dunno, I just—I didn’t mean to hit Marcus. I wasn’t thinking.” He felt his face burn. 

“Okay, hold on,” Felicia said, softer this time in the face of his shame. Suddenly the noise dimmed, like she’d gone outside. “Connol told me that you told him about everything. That you finally admitted you like Silco.” 

“Yeah, I kind of had to, considering I punched Marcus and all. It’s not like I regret Connol knowing or anything. I just…wish I knew what Silco and I are doing. The day I was at his dorm was, well I thought it was good, but then he just shut me down.”

“That was the same morning I told you to get your shit together about him, right?”

Vander huffs. “Yeah. I’d stayed the night, and I asked if he wanted to get breakfast, but then…it was like he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.” It still stung when he thought about it. “And today—you should have seen his face, Fel. I tried to tell him that punching Marcus wasn’t something I regretted, that it wasn’t a big deal, and he just looked…it’s like no one’s ever stood up for him before. What was I supposed to do?”

He heard her sigh and mutter something, but he couldn’t make out the words. “Listen, V, I can’t give you some kind of cheat code to navigate this, but Silco…he has a hard time letting himself have things. I think his shutting down actually has very little to do with you , y’know?” Vander frowned. He didn’t like what that implied, that Silco didn’t have a lot of experience being treated well. “As much as I wish I could pull his head out of his own ass, I can’t. If you think it’s worth it to try and pursue something real here, then I think you should go for it. I’m not saying it’ll be easy , but I think if anyone can match Silco’s stubborn son of a bitch energy, it’s you.”

Vander couldn’t help but smile at this. It was true that Silco had persistently tried to brush Vander off, but Vander was not to be deterred. Maybe it was because Silco never outright told him to fuck off. Maybe it was because there was something in Silco’s demeanor that told Vander he didn’t really want to be left alone. 

Then something occurred to him and Vander sat up from where he’d slouched down against his headboard. “Hey, have you seen Benzo today?”

Felicia made a noise of affirmation. “The whole team is here at the pub. Why?”

Vander frowned and tried not to be hurt that he hadn’t been invited. “Oh. I texted him before you and I saw he looked at it, but he didn’t respond. I figured he was just somewhere he couldn’t respond, but…”

There was a beat of silence. 

“Fel? You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I don’t want to speak for Benzo, but he seemed pretty pissed about the whole…situation.” Vander could imagine the way Felicia waved her hand vaguely as she searched for the right word.

“Oh,” Vander said again. “Ok, well…I guess I’ll talk to him when he gets back.

— — —

It was well past eleven when the door handle turned and Benzo shouldered his way into the room. After his conversation with Felicia, Vander had returned to scrolling on his phone and wallowing in some self pity.

“Hey man, where you been?” Vander asked as he sat up, eager for a distraction from his own thoughts, but Benzo didn’t spare him a glance as he dumped his bag next to his desk, kicking off his shoes and peeling out of his clothes in preparation for bed. “Benzo?” Vander prompted when his roommate didn’t respond.

Still Benzo ignored him, and a sinking feeling settled in Vander’s stomach. If there had been one constant in his college career so far, it was Benzo’s friendship, but what if he’d seriously fucked this up? Felicia said he’d been pretty pissed about the whole “situation”, but that encompassed a lot of different things. Was he mad about Vander punching Marcus? That he was benched? Was it about the bet? It was possible it wasn’t Vander at all, but Benzo’s blatant lack of acknowledgement felt pointed, so Vander sank lower in his bed, feeling guilty but not knowing what exactly for. 

With a heavy sigh, Benzo climbed into his own bed and immediately rolled over, his back to Vander. 

Okay then.

Vander reached for the lamp on his bedside table and turned it, casting the room into darkness. He wanted to say something, apologize, maybe, about being benched for the remainder of the season, but his lips wouldn’t move. He tried to get comfortable, tossing and turning occasionally, but he couldn’t get his mind to shut off. Eventually, he lay in the dark listening to Benzo’s quiet snuffling snores and waiting for sleep that never came.

He could talk to Benzo in the morning.

— — —

Between studying for exams, finishing other projects, and thinking about how to talk to Benzo, Vander managed to fill the extra time he suddenly had now that he was barred from practice. His laundry had never been cleaner. 

With the threat of finals looming ever closer, an academic boogeyman for some and simply a source of stress for others, Vander was finding it near impossible to get Benzo alone long enough to talk to him. He always had a convenient excuse to not stay in their dorm room. Team practices were getting more intense, and Vander knew that there were a couple of classes that Benzo was struggling with, so he was also spending a lot of time at the library. More often than not, he was gone before Vander woke up in the morning and came back after Vander had finally succumbed to sleep.

He wouldn’t get away this time though. Vander had a plan. He went straight back to their room after class to make sure that he would be there when Benzo came to get his stuff before the quarter final game against the Shurima Academy Raiders. If Benzo was surprised to see Vander when he opened their door, he did a good job of keeping his expression neutral.

”Hey, man, you ready for the game?” It seemed logical to try and start with their shared interest, but Benzo focused on grabbing his kit bag. “Shurima is pretty strong this season, but I think you guys are going to be fine. We’ve really had a good season.” Still nothing. Vander frowned and decided to switch tactics.

”Listen, Benzo, I’m sorry that I’m not going to be there. I tried to find a ride, but with finals and everything…” He shrugged, not that Benzo noticed. He wouldn’t even look at Vander. After a week of stony silence, Vander was getting worried that Benzo wasn’t going to break. “C’mon, man, talk to me.” 

“Janna’s tits, Vander!” Benzo shouted, his frustration erupting out of him as he threw the shirt in his hand roughly into his open bag. All Vander had wanted this week was for his friend to look at him, but he didn’t want the venomous glare Benzo was aiming at him. “I don’t give a fuck about what you think about our chances against Shurima. It clearly doesn’t fucking matter to you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Vander asked, still gobsmacked.

”You’ve been off all season, ever since—” Benzo cut himself off, mouth flattening into a hard line. He let out a frustrated huff of breath through his nose. “Why him? Why did it have to be fucking him? And now you’ve got yourself barred from the team, and you're on academic probation because you had to protect the dignity of Silco Leach ?” He said Silco’s name like it was a curse, practically spitting the words with a grimace. “And, on top of everything else , you told Connol and not me? I thought we were friends.”

Vander sat on the edge of his bed, absolutely poleaxed by the force of Benzo’s outburst. “I’d just punched someone in the face. I had to tell him,” Vander replied weakly.

Benzo rolled his eyes and turned back to his bag. “Yeah, but you’d been keeping things a secret for weeks . You could have told me. Even fucking Sevika knew. She didn’t say as much, but she wasn’t the least surprised to find out she’d won the bet, which meant she had to have known.” 

“I never asked you all to make bets about my sex life,” Vander snapped. 

Benzo turned back to face him, expression twisted into a sneer. “It wouldn’t be so bad if you’d just had a one-time hook up, or whatever, but you actually like him.” He let out a snort, as if liking Silco was ludicrous. As if Vander was an idiot.

The disdain in Benzo’s voice had Vander’s hackles raising. “Fuck you, man. It’s not like I planned this.”

Benzo snorted again. “No, you just kept insisting on talking to him at all the parties no one wanted him at.”

Vander was up and across the room in an instant, grabbing Benzo’s shirt and snarling, “Shut the fuck up.” This close, he could see every freckle on Benzo’s nose. What was he doing? His hesitation gave Benzo an opportunity to push Vander back, sending him stumbling into his desk chair.

Benzo laughed humorlessly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look at yourself, man. You’re tied up in knots over this guy when you could do so much better.”

“And you wonder why I didn’t fucking tell you,” Vander spat.

He grabbed his jacket off the back of his desk chair and stormed out of their room. He slammed the door behind him hard enough that it rattled the frame.

Fuck Benzo. And fuck Marcus .

Fuck everyone who thought they knew what was better for Vander. Fuck them for assuming that Silco wasn’t enough some how, when he was twice what they could ever be.

He jogged down the stairs, bursting through the doors onto the sidewalk and nearly barreling into a student on their way inside. He didn’t even stop to apologize, tossing a grunted “Sorry” over his shoulder and crossing the green without a clear idea of where he was going.

The late fall air was cold enough that Vander could see his puffing breath in the air as he walked and it helped to cool him off a bit. A few small flakes of snow drifted in the air, a reminder that winter break was just around the corner. He was sure that his parents would be glad for the extra help around the bar, and he already had plans with Felicia and Connol before the new year to see some movie that Felicia was interested in dragging them along to. He wondered if Silco would agree to meet up with them, if Vander asked. 

Before he realised it he was standing outside Silco’s dorm room, as if his feet had known his destination the entire time. He wasn’t even sure if Silco would be there. He could be at the library, taking advantage of the extended hours during finals season, but he hoped that Silco was on the other side of the door.

He knocked, breath catching in his chest, and a moment later Silco was in the doorway, looking up at Vander first in surprise, then annoyance.

“I’m busy, Vander,” he said, exhaustion clear in his voice and the line of his shoulders. He looked like he had during midterms, but worse somehow. There were familiar dark bags under his eyes and his hair was shiny like he hadn’t showered in a few days. Vander resisted the urge to scoop him up and tuck him into bed for some much-needed rest, instead offering a crooked smile. “I don’t have time for a hook up.”

Vander’s brow furrowed and his smile faltered, confused. “What? I’m not here to have sex with you.”

Silco’s face pinched, mirroring Vander’s confusion. “Then what are you doing here?”

It was a good question, and in the end, the answer was simple. “Dunno. Just…wanted to see you.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck a little self consciously as he heard a door open and close down the hall. “Can I come in?”

To his surprise, rather than turn him away, Silco stepped back and held the door open.

Unlike the last time Vander had been there, Silco’s room looked like a storm had been through it; the desk was piled with open textbooks and print outs, and paper cups of what Vander assumed had at one time been coffee. The spare bed had Silco’s bag haphazardly tossed onto it with a mountain of unfolded laundry piled next to it. Silco’s actual bed was a chaotic mess of unmade sheets, one pillow shoved between the mattress and the headboard, the other laying discarded on the floor. 

  As the door closed behind him, Vander didn’t know where to sit, so he stood, watching as Silco threw himself back into his desk chair and returned to studying as though Vander wasn’t even there. His posture was hunched over the desk, one hand tangling in his hair as he propped his head up. He looked like he was about to keel over.

The room smelled like stale coffee and cigarettes, and as a page rustled softly when Silco flipped to the next in his textbook, Vander crossed over to the window and cracked it open a few inches. It would be cold, but it would at least help air out the room a bit. He grimaced when he noticed an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts on the windowsill. He hoped that Silco was existing on more than just cigarettes and coffee, but what he knew of the other man didn’t give him much hope of that being the case.

Silco continued to ignore Vander, almost as if he’d forgotten that he was there. Vander, on the other hand, was keenly aware of Silco. He watched for a moment as Silco studied, cataloguing the way his crooked front teeth bit into his bottom lip, how his fingers tapped as his textbook when he wasn’t taking notes. He was still, and yet his body radiated a frenetic, exhausted energy. Between that and the state of the room, Vander was overcome with the sudden need to take care of him. 

He moved towards the spare bed, picking up Silco’s bag and setting it carefully on the floor. He sat in the vacated space and waited for Silco to notice and object, but when he kept studying, Vander reached for the closest item on the top of Silco’s laundry pile and began methodically folding, piece by piece.

There was music playing quietly on the record player, but Vander didn’t recognise it. Even still, between the music, the quiet rustling of Silco’s studying, and his occasional huffed sigh, it was nice. Comfortable almost. To be in the same room together, just sharing space. 

When the clothes were folded, Vander stood and moved to Silco’s bed, picking up the pillow from the floor and straightening the sheets. When he was finished, Silco was staring at him over the back of his chair. He blinked at Vander slowly like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. 

“What are you doing?” he asked after a moment.

“Just straightening up a bit,” Vander said with a shrug. 

Silco’s eyes slid to the other bed where there were piles of neatly folded laundry. “Did you fold my clothes?”

Vander’s cheeks warmed. “Yeah.”

Silco blinked again, and Vander wanted to gather him up in his arms and carry him to bed. To force him to get the rest he so obviously needed. 

“Have you eaten?” Vander asked abruptly. 

“What?”

“I said, have you eaten? I can go down to the cafeteria and get us something.” When Silco simply blinked at him again, Vander made a decision. “I’ll be right back.” He left before Silco could say anything, a man on a mission.

The cafeteria this late in the semester was packed with students making use of whatever available table space there was for studying. Now that Vander thought about it, it made sense that Silco was studying in his room; the library was probably equally packed. But at this time of day the line was short, and Vander picked up a couple containers of some simple chicken tenders and fries, grabbing a handful of sauce packets on his way out, unsure what, if anything, Silco liked, and made his way back to his dorm.

Between his quick pace and the chilly air, his face felt flushed when he waited outside Silco’s dorm for someone else to leave so that he could sneak inside and head for the stairs for the second time that afternoon. His knee ached a bit when he approached Silco’s door, but he ignored it in favor of getting the food back to Silco, still somewhat warm.

The door was still unlocked when he returned, and he slipped inside, only to find Silco slumped over his desk, eyes shut, shoulders rising and falling with the slow, steady breaths of sleep. Vander’s heart squeezed in his chest at the sight, the same way it had when he’d come upon Silco in the library that first time. 

He set the containers of food on the second dresser in the room and pulled back the sheets on the bed before he returned to Silco. He was well and truly out, only grumbling in his sleep when Vander pulled his chair back enough to  crouch next to him. He held his breath as he wrapped Silco’s arm around his neck and helped him to stand.

Silco groaned, but his eyes stayed closed as he leaned into Vander, nose pressing into the curve of his shoulder. They crossed the short distance to the bed and Vander laid Silco down. He made a quiet sound of protest that pierced straight through Vander’s sternum, fingers clutching at the shoulder of Vander’s shirt. “Shh, shh. I just need to take my shoes off.”

Silco’s fingers didn’t loosen their grip, and Vander quickly slipped his shoes off before he climbed onto the bed, gathering Silco against his chest, where he burrowed, sighing as he settled against him. He’d wanted to at least close the window, maybe take off his coat, but all of that became less important the longer Silco’s grip remained steadfast.

The record that had been playing had ended at some point, maybe when Vander was out of the room, and now all Vander could hear was the rustle of the trees outside and Silco’s slow, steady breaths against his collarbone. He wasn’t ready to sleep yet, and a part of him itched to get up and tidy, maybe take out the trash, but he swallowed down the impulse.

Even with Silco’s cheek smooshed up against him, Vander felt his heart pound with affection. He brushed a strand of hair from Silco’s forehead, and as he did so Silco murmured something in his sleep that Vander couldn’t quite catch. He pressed a kiss to Silco’s forehead, smiling at the way Silco nestled closer before settling into sleep once more.

If someone had told him at the beginning of the semester that he would be head over heels for prickly, snide Silco Leach, he would have called them crazy. He probably would have thought that he could do better, like everyone else that took Silco at face value. Now, he couldn’t help but think that he was very lucky to be trusted like this, the feeling of Silco in his arms feeding a steadily growing flame in his chest.

At some point, his eyes slipped shut as he was soothed into sleep by Silco’s soft breaths. His last conscious thought was of falling asleep with Silco more often, as many times as Silco would let him, greedy for this soft side of him. 

Chapter Text

So much of his life Silco had felt trapped, always wishing for life to move onto the next moment, to let him move forward. But right now? Time felt slow. Measured only by the syrupy pleasure that pooled between his legs. All his senses felt heightened, everything melting together like watercolours around him. 

Silco knelt between someone’s thighs. There was a hand in his hair, touch gentle, but firm, guiding him as he mouthed at their cock, twisting the strands around their fingers and making Silco shiver. He didn’t know how he’d gotten here, but he never wanted to leave.

His knees probably should have been aching with how long he’d been kneeling on the floor, but all he felt was decadent want as he satisfied an alarming level of oral fixation by mouthing along a perfect cock, kissing the tip, sucking gently at a set of heavy balls. He didn’t realize he was sobbing with want until a gentle thumb swept across his cheeks, the rest of his lover’s fingers wrapping around the back of Silco’s neck like a collar. 

“So good, so pretty.” 

There was something familiar about his partner’s voice. When they moaned, it wrapped around Silco, filling his head and rumbling in his chest like it was a sound he himself was making. It was something that he wanted to hold onto as he worked on swallowing down more of their cock, his own throbbing in his jeans. He tried to press the heel of his palm against himself, but it seemed like nothing he did helped the ache. 

“Easy, easy. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, love.” Silco heard himself sob again, his ass clenching around nothing, feeling so empty. “Fuck, Silco, y’feel so good.” 

Silco blinked slowly, looking up through his lashes. Vander’s handsome face came into view above him, smiling down at him. Those sea grey eyes warm and full of so much love.  

Vander did have him. In the blink of an eye Silco was no longer on his knees, instead sat on Vander’s lap, two thick fingers sinking into him without resistance, the width of them making Silco feel like the breath had been punched out of him. He did his best to press back into Vander’s touch, except Vander was everywhere, kissing his neck, fucking into him with his fingers, his thighs so big that Silco could feel the slight burn from how his own legs stretched to straddle Vander’s lap. He could only hold on for dear life as Vander bit and sucked at his nipples, turning his chest from pink to red to nearly purple with bites. 

“V—please, ple—“ Silco’s begging was cut off by a choked sob as Vander finally sank his cock into him, making him full and complete for possibly the first time in his life. Vander pulled him close, tucking Silco’s back against his broad chest, wrapping his arms around Silco as he fucked into him. Silco had no choice but to try and hang on, his body at Vander’s mercy.

Silco’s entire body felt like a fire cracker, each nerve sparking untold pleasure through him, making him moan and gasp and sob. He felt safe in Vander’s arms as he fucked into him. Knew that Vander would take care of him. He never expected that it would feel so good to let him. To accept Vander’s slow, deliberate kisses, the sound of Vander’s pleasure in his ears, the feeling of his rumbling voice shaking through Silco’s lungs. He was so close, the pleasure licking at the base of his spine almost painful in its intensity.

“Fuck, c’mon, Silco. I’ve got you, love, c’mon—“

Silco sucked in a sharp breath as he barreled towards awareness, his hips shaking and his heart hammering in his chest. He opened his eyes, unable to recognize what he was seeing at first, until his dorm room came slowly into focus. He was shivering, small bolts of pleasure zinging through his abdomen.

I got you, love, c’mon. 

The dream faded slowly, the unnatural lightness of his body replaced with stark reality and the distinct awareness of the fact that his underwear and the sheet beneath him were sticky and damp. He groaned and rolled to the side in an effort to avoid the wet spot of fabric. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, only to see Vander in his mind’s eye, flushed and handsome. 

“Fucking shit.”

Having to wash his sheets wasn’t how he wanted to start the new term, but still he dragged himself out of bed, peeling out of his boxers and stripping the sheets from the mattress. He grimaced down at his cock as the cool air in his room made him shrink. “This is all your fault,” he grumbled as he pulled on a fresh pair of underwear. A shower was probably in order, but he could do that after starting his laundry downstairs. 

He continued muttering as he gathered the soiled sheets, stuffing them in his hamper, and made his way down to the laundry room. At least he didn’t have to face the indignity of running into someone in the hallway. It was still early, and the dorms were still largely empty aside from Silco and a handful of other students over winter break, but their peers would be trickling in throughout the day. Term started on Monday, and Silco fluctuated between dread and excitement at the prospect of having something to do again. He had enjoyed the first couple of days of break, catching up on some desperately needed sleep, but the novelty had quickly worn thin.

With a sigh, Silco shoved a hand through his hair, listening to the rush of water as it filled the basin of the washing machine. For weeks he’d been waiting for winter break to arrive so he could have space from Vander, not having to see him every day, to have time to not think about him. But Vander haunted him like a phantom. 

Without the distraction of classes and his work study, there was nothing to stop Silco’s mind from wandering, from remembering the way Vander held him, the solid weight of him pressing him into the mattress, how he kissed Silco like a man possessed. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the night Vander came by during finals week, when Silco was strung out on caffeine and cigarettes and couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten something that hadn’t come out of a vending machine. He’d almost thought it was a dream, Vander showing up at his door, saying that he wasn’t there for a hookup. His face still had a tendency to burn when he remembered Vander picking up his room—folding his laundry—asking if he’d eaten anything. When he’d taken care of Silco like it was nothing.

I’ve got you love, c’mon. 

“Oh, you had the same idea,” someone said in the doorway, making Silco jump and startling him out of his thoughts. 

Silco didn’t know everyone that lived in the Baron building, but he recognized the tall, thin man standing in the doorway thanks to last year's Zaun U debate team coverage. Aleksander something. Silco only knew him in passing, but he remembered thinking that Aleksander looked like a moose calf, all knees and elbows. He still had the same haircut, a mop of blond hair with blunt bangs that flopped across his forehead. Silco knew that they didn’t live on the same floor, but it was no less mortifying to be caught red handed with his soiled sheets at seven in the morning. 

“Figured I would catch up before the machines are all taken, y’know?” Aleksander said casually as he passed behind Silco towards one of the open machines.

“Right,” Silco agreed quickly, balling up the sheets in his hands before stuffing them in the washer. 

He didn’t look at Aleksander, but he thought he could feel the other student’s eyes on him, the weight of expectation for Silco to continue the conversation.   

“Are you looking forward to term starting?” Aleksander asked after a minute of awkward quiet. Silco mentally cursed himself for not wearing his headphones, which would at least give him some reason not to talk. Who the fuck tried to strike up a conversation at seven a.m.?

It was too early for this. He hadn’t even had any coffee yet.

“Yeah, I guess,” Silco said dismissively, hoping that Aleksander would pick up on his obvious “don’t speak to me” vibes. If he had better social graces and was fully awake, he probably would have told Aleksander that he was looking forward to having something to do again. Then Aleksander would undoubtedly ask how he'd spent his break, most likely expecting Silco to share some surface level stories about shit like spending time with family and the drama involved. Then they could commiserate about the pros and cons of going back home. Except Silco didn't have any fun anecdotes.

So he kept his mouth shut. His break had been quiet, a much needed reprieve, and he'd made sure to keep himself as busy as he could. Picking up shifts at the local bowling alley, The Lanes, didn't provide a lot of stimulation, though it provided plenty of downtime for Silco to work through the collection of books waiting to be read on his nightstand. Classes were going to be a much-needed diversion. Not to mention he would be able to start following the debate season again, something he’d be happy to discuss with Aleksander under different circumstances and when Silco had an adequate amount of caffeine in his body.

He kept his head down as he measured out the correct amount of soap and swiped his student ID to start the machine before abruptly leaving the laundry room without another word.

Making his way back upstairs, he resolved to have a shower while his clothes washed, and after he’d transferred them to the dryer, he’d make himself some much needed coffee. The cafeteria was closed over the winter break, and so Silco relied on an electric kettle that he’d picked up second hand from a local buy nothing group, his trusty instant coffee, and a small stockpile of instant noodles to make it through. It was probably a fire hazard in his dorm room, but it was no worse than him smoking next to the window.

Collecting his shower caddy, he trudged into the bathroom, taking his favourite stall and turning the water as hot as it would go. As steam began to fill the room, Silco thought back to his dream. The finer details had already slipped away with the shock of waking and the unpleasant discovery of his soiled sheets, but he still remembered how it made him feel. The rumble of Vander’s voice in his ear as he said words that made Silco’s heart beat fast in his chest.

He leaned forward until his forehead met the shower wall, staring at the way his hair dripped. He was supposed to be over this. That’s what the break was for, damnit. 

+ + +

Vander hadn't ever thought he would be relieved to see his dorm room, but there was a certain amount of freedom he lost over breaks. It was almost jarring to have to check in with his parents about his comings and goings. He shouldered his way through the door, the strap of his overstuffed gym bag catching on the door and nearly tripping him. He certainly hadn't missed that while he was gone.

As much as he needed the break from the grind of academia, the winter break did not offer him much reprieve. He went from working on papers to working in his family’s bar, bussing tables, helping his dad out with incoming stock, and trying to make some kind of sense of his mother’s bookkeeping. He’d originally planned on returning to campus on Friday, but his mom had insisted that she needed his help with inventory. She probably could have managed without him, but he knew how hard his parents worked and how much harder it was to manage with him off at school.

He tried not to let guilt consume him as he started unpacking. He was the first person in his family to go to college. His parents had been so excited for him, the least he could do was stay a couple extra days at home to help out. Besides, it’s not like he would have much else to do before classes started. Since the rugby season was over, he didn't have to balance rigorous training with a busy course calendar this semester. He would still need to swing by the gym and get back on his normal conditioning this week. Even in the off season, the rugby team was meant to maintain their fitness in the gym at least three days a week. But an hour in the gym three times a week was still easier than two hour practices with a game every week on top of classes and course work.

He liked being busy, but after last semester and the hectic winter break, he was ready for a lighter workload.

Not that the busyness had kept him from thinking about Silco. It was hard not to, honestly, especially given that the last time Vander had seen him had been so nice. He hadn’t intended to spend the night when he’d gone to Silco’s room, but he couldn’t complain when he got to see Silco tucked up against his chest. Seeing the way Silco’s green eyes blinked open, the momentary confusion at Vander in his bed, followed by the soft flush of pink that followed when he registered their arrangement still made his heart ache. And that was just from remembering. 

Vander wouldn’t be admitting it to anyone, but he had nursed that ache the entire time he’d been home, spending his waking hours thinking about how Silco hadn’t kicked him out that morning. About the long, lean lines of Silco’s body as he got out of bed and left the room, only to come back with two cups of bitter, too strong coffee. He’d put some distance between them then, sitting at his desk rather than returning to his bed where Vander reclined.

Vander had missed the comfortable warmth of Silco against him almost as soon as he was gone, but he hadn’t wanted to push things more than he already had. This thing with Silco was a marathon, not a sprint, and Vander was in it for the long haul. And wasn’t that kind of terrifying? 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door unlock and Benzo walked into their room. Vander paused where he was folding a shirt.

He hadn’t heard from Benzo at all during the break. As it happened, the Trencher’s season ended with the quarter final game against Shurima, and Vander knew the team partially blamed him for the loss given both his inability to play and his inability to attend the game in support. Hell, he kind of blamed himself, but he was hoping that they would be able to move past it this semester.

He finished unpacking in awkward silence for a few minutes as Benzo dumped his things on his bed, moving around the room without acknowledging Vander’s presence. Eventually Vander sighed, stepping around Benzo to grab his jacket and leave the room. He knew he would need to do something about it eventually, but he didn’t have that in him right now.

Honestly, Vander just wanted to see Silco. His first instinct was to go to his room just to say hi, so he followed the urge, weaving through the halls and managing to avoid bumping into his fellow students as they came back to campus. It was early enough in the evening that the dining hall was still open. Maybe Vander could convince Silco to get some dinner with him. He was considering his pitch as he stepped out the door of his building, only to collide with Connol and Felicia.

“Hey, man!” Connol said, beaming at him. He had an arm wrapped around Felicia’s shoulders, the epitome of a happy couple. “We were just coming to see you. Felicia wants to go out tonight for one last day of freedom before the semester starts. You up for it?” 

Vander scratched the back of his neck, face getting hot as he admitted, “I was going to see if Silco was back.” Felicia and Connol shared a look that had Vander tempted to call them hypocrites.

”I know he’s on campus, but I already invited him out, and he said he was busy with something. So it looks like you’re stuck with us,” Felicia said with a shrug. Vander felt his shoulders droop a bit. Going out and getting shit-faced wasn’t necessarily how he wanted to spend the evening before classes started, but if seeing Silco wasn’t an option…

It was better than sitting in his dorm room in icy silence with Benzo. 

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“We should go to The Lanes,” Felicia said with a shrug, her tone light. But there was a smirk on her face that told Vander she had ulterior motives for suggesting it. He wasn’t sure what she was plotting, but he knew she was up to something. Connol, as usual, had no idea. Janna bless him.

“Bowling?” Connol asked, incredulous. “Why don’t we go to the pub?”

“Because bowling is fun. They have booze at the bowling alley,” Felicia said, rolling her eyes. “Please, babe,” she cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. Connol flushed and turned to press a kiss to Felicia’s mouth properly. Vander managed to hold in his gag, covering it with a cough. He was happy for his friends, really, but sometimes they were a bit too much.

“Ugh. Fine. Okay. You know I can’t say no to you.” He brighted suddenly. “Hey, we should see if Silco can come later. Once he’s done with whatever.” Since their heart-to-heart last semester, Vander had a feeling that Connol would be doing his best to act as a wingman of sorts, not that Vander thought it would work. He appreciated the thought, though. On anyone but Silco, Connol was able to use his small town boy charm, all dimples and a small gap between his teeth. 

“He’s working late, the responsible fuck,” Felicia informed them with a pout, but her eyes slid to Vander as she spoke, and once more he got the sense that she was up to something. She caught him looking at her and shifted her expression into a beaming grin. “Anyway, the next bus is scheduled to leave in ten minutes, so we should get going!”

+ + +

Silco was already counting down the hours until he was finished with his last shift at The Lanes, and his shift didn’t even start for another hour. He hadn't originally been scheduled to work tonight, but fucking Gareth had called out sick. Every single employee knew that Gareth was useless, but he was the owner’s friend’s nephew or something, so he basically got away with murder. Silco’s phone buzzed on the desk across the room, distracting him as he tugged his jeans up over his hips. He frowned, waddling over to see who was texting him.

Fel: Some of us are going out for one last night of freedom before the semester starts. Want to come with?

The fact that he had been friends with this woman for over a year astounded him sometimes. He scoffed to smother the warmth in his chest that she tried to include him every single time.

Silco: Can’t. Working.

He finished pulling his pants on and grabbed for his belt.

Fel: Boo. That’s too bad. At The Lanes, right?

Silco sent a thumbs up emoji in confirmation as he finished getting dressed, making sure that he had layers for his shift. Usually the bowling alley was more than warm enough, but it was supposed to be windy tonight, and the winter chill had a way of whipping through the glass doors and settling in his bones at the shoe counter. Finally, he slipped the jacket he’d bought at Lest and Found on to keep him warm against the biting winter cold outside. He tucked his phone into his pocket, put his headphones on, and grabbed his keys before making his way out of the building to wait for the bus that would take him to the bowling alley a few blocks from campus. Normally Silco would walk such a short distance, but it was too cold for that today. 

If Felicia sent any follow up message, Silco didn’t look. He let himself get lost in his music, and with his phone shoved deep in his pockets, he wasn’t willing to pull it out and risk the chill on his fingers while he waited for the bus. While his coat kept him warm, it didn’t entirely keep out the cold, and Silco shivered.

One comically short bus ride later, Silco shouldered his way into work for one last shift. Seven more hours until he wouldn’t have to touch a stranger’s shoes ever again.

The Lanes was a squat, single level building located just off campus, situated in the midst of apartment complexes and restaurants that tended to populate around universities. The sign glowed in the mid afternoon darkness, lighting up the path as Silco approached the entrance. It was a veritable sauna compared to the cold outside. The furnace blasted warm air down on him as he stepped through the doors, and within seconds Silco was stripping out of his jacket, desperate to escape the near suffocating heat.

To the left of the door was the front counter that extended almost the entire length of the alleys, rows and rows of shoes tucked away beneath it, waiting for eager bowlers. The scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the air. Out of sixteen total lanes, a few of them were already in use as Silco tucked his things beneath the counter and clocked in. It was evident that a few were casual gamers, students meeting up after a few weeks apart, and others he recognized as seasoned league bowlers and regulars who were working on their technique. It had been quite the surprise to see so many regulars in his short span of employment, but Silco wasn't about to shit on someone else’s version of a good time when he spent his evenings reading LSAT prep books.

Beneath the low hum of music over the speakers was the rumble of bowling balls as they careened down the lane before sending the pins clattering, or dropping with a clunk into the gutter.

Briony was farther down the counter, helping an older couple choose their bowling balls and she cast a bored glance at Silco as he lifted the partition and stepped behind the counter. Briony made Silco’s fashion choices seem almost preppy compared to her dedication to the mall goth aesthetic. Her shoulder length hair was dyed a deep purple, almost black, her blue eyes were rimmed in a thick layer of black eyeliner that was artfully smudged, and her lips were painted a dark purple that almost matched her hair. Layers of silver chains hung around her neck over the oversized t-shirt she wore that threatened to slip off her narrow shoulders. Despite the cold weather, her legs were bare beneath a black pleated skirt, and she wore her standard issue combat boots that looked like they’d seen better days.

Silco busied himself with grabbing a drink to keep under the register then throwing his hair back into a knot. Briony eventually finished with her customers and ambled over.

“Has it been busy?” Silco asked, and Briony shrugged indifferently.

“Eh, it’s been just about like this,” Briony said, her eyes flicking over the lanes to count how many were open. “No one’s made me break out the wait list, so I haven’t had to resist the urge to bludgeon anyone with it.” Silco snorted a bit.

He grabbed the checklist he was required to fill out at the start of his shift and made the rounds, noting anything new that needed attention. Gareth was the one that had a “hook up” with the local repair guy, so Silco just added to the list of issues he’d started on his first shift. Once complete, Silco took over the counter so Briony could take her break, pulling out his most recent read from his bag and flipping to his bookmark.

The first few hours of his shift passed without note. There were a few groups of students from the university who came in, having a similar idea as Felicia about one last night of fun before the semester crashed down upon them. Then the door opened, and as a familiar voice reached his ears, he froze.

No. She wouldn’t do this to him. Would she? He heard a rumbling laugh followed by a bright cackle.

Yes. She absolutely would. 

Without thinking about it, Silco ducked behind the counter. How had his life spiraled out of control like this? He'd been in some pretty shitty situations, but crouching behind the shoe counter felt like a new low. He was going to kill Felicia. 

He was still crouched when Briony turned the corner, a pack of cigarettes already open in her hand. “You okay there, bud?” she asked, pausing to stare down at him. He would consider mourning the loss of his dignity, but he figured Briony didn’t give half a fuck about him or this job.

“Take these next customers,” Silco hissed. He didn’t dare try to peek over the counter to see if his former friend Felicia was any closer with her merry gang of humiliation.

“I’m going out for a smoke break.” She shook the pack in her hand to emphasize her point.

“I know, it’ll be quick. Just, please, do this for me.” She crossed her arms and smirked down at him.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Seriously?” Silco hissed, glaring up at her. “It’ll take five minutes.”

“What, and my time doesn’t have value?” she drawled. Silco prayed for strength.

“It’s my last shift, Briony, c’mon.” He sounded desperate. Pathetic, even. 

“Nope.” She patted his shoulder as she stepped over him, the traitor. What ever happened to solidarity amongst coworkers? 

The bell on the counter rang and Felicia let out a sing-songing “Hello-o-o?”

Silco took a deep breath, willing himself to stand. He could do this. 

Before he had the chance to move, Felicia leaned over the counter, her face appearing above him. “Uh, Silco?” Why couldn’t the ground just swallow him whole? He grabbed a pair of women’s shoes at random and stood, dropping them on the counter, as if that had been his plan all along.

“Here you go. Size eleven.” He ignored the way Vander was looking at him. 

I’ve got you, love.

“I’m a size eight, hon. I would break my neck if I tried to bowl in those.” Felicia was doing a piss poor job of looking innocent. Silco could practically see the gears turning in Connol’s head, catching up to his girlfriend’s scheming in real time. When he finally looked over at Vander, it was like being hit by a truck. He looked different, somehow, like winter break had made him softer, cozier. There was the beginning of stubble along his jaw, like he hadn't shaved before coming back to campus. It was almost painful how much it suited him. He was wearing the jacket he’d purchased from Lest and Found, and it still looked great on him.

Silco finally tore his eyes away from Vander and  offered Felicia his best customer service smile. “Is that a promise?” He looked over at Vander again without meaning to, catching his big, blue grey eyes staring earnestly. “What shoe sizes? You guys can take lane ten.” He reached down to grab the correct size for Felicia, dropping them on the counter in front of her. 

“Twelve,” Connol said, looking entirely too amused by the awkward little pantomime his precious girlfriend had orchestrated. 

“Fourteen.” Silco grabbed both pairs and pushed them across the counter. 

“How many games are you looking to play?”

Felicia looked between Connol and Vander and shrugged. “I don’t know, boys. What do you think? Two or three?”

“Let’s start with two,” Connol said, and Silco punched in the appropriate information to the computer. With another glower in Felicia’s direction, she finally took a hint, starting towards lane ten with a huff, Connol dutifully trailing behind her. 

Vander lingered.

“Did you…have a good break?” Vander asked, keeping his voice low, private. Silco watched as Vander’s fingers played with the laces of his shoes, and he suppressed a shiver.

“Yeah, fine.” He should leave it there, go back to trying to resist whatever dark magic Vander had, but he could practically see Vander droop, and he was weak. “How was yours?”

Vander immediately stood a little straighter, a pleasantly flustered look on his face. It didn’t make Silco’s stomach flip. “Good! It was nice to be home. Have my mom’s cooking again.” Silco nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral. He didn’t need Vander to see the envy that burned at his core. He’d spent the break alone, outside of his shifts at The Lanes and one memorable evening with Lest.

“That’s good,” Silco said. His fingers drummed against the counter when Vander still made no move to take his shoes and join Felicia and Connol. “You know you paid to bowl, right?” He exaggerated a glance towards the lane where Felicia and Connol were coming up with increasingly gross couple-nicknames for their roster. Vander had the audacity to look like he’d forgotten all about the reason he was there and then offer a downright bashful smile.

“Right, yeah. Are you working all night? You could join us later, maybe.” Silco’s heart squeezed in his chest.

“I close.” He absentmindedly chipped the paint on the counter, unable to look away from Vander’s face. Stupid, handsome, asshole.

“Hey, Vander! I’m calling you Manic Pixie Beef Cake!” Felicia called, breaking the tension between them. 

“Ah, well,” Vander said, disappointment clear on his face. “Maybe another time. I should go join them.” The idiot started walking backwards slowly, like Silco was something he didn’t want to stop looking at. Like Silco might disappear if he looked away. Silco wanted to punch his stupid mouth. And maybe kiss it.

“Go bowl, Manic Pixie Whatever,” Silco said, unable to fully suppress a smile at the way Vander’s face went red. He was slightly shocked when Vander listened, turning gracefully and sauntering over to where his friends were waiting. Silco swallowed, face erupting into flames. That was mortifying. Holy shit.

“Wooow.” Briony stepped behind the counter suddenly, making Silco jump. 

“Janna’s sake, Briony!”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever freaky shit that was.” Silco scowled, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on the counter in his best impression of a turtle hiding in its shell. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered. Even the back of his neck felt hot.

“No, seriously. Good for you. That was so fucking entertaining.”

Silco was going to kill Felicia.

+ + +

“You’d think that someone with such good hand-eye coordination would be better at this,” Felicia said gleefully when Vander tossed yet another gutter ball. He scowled and went for another ball, waiting for the person in the next lane to skillfully take their turn before he threw his ball forward. It managed to stay out of the gutter, but it was a near thing. 

“Don’t listen to her, Vander. I hear she sold her soul to the bowling gods before coming here. That’s the only explanation I can think of for it.” Connol clapped his hands against Vander’s shoulders and gave him a quick shake. He was talking too loud, drawing looks from some of the more serious bowlers two lanes down from them. Vander was suddenly glad they weren’t at an actual pub; they’d gone through two pitchers of cheap, weak beer but Connol was nothing if not a lightweight.

”You’re up, Double Caked Cutie Pie,” Vander said, making room for Connol to take his turn. They were both doing a terrible job of bowling, but at least Connol had the excuse that his girlfriend was right there and the faster he took his turns, the faster he could get back to making eyes at her ass while she dominated both of them. Vander just couldn’t get his head in the game when he knew that Silco was a couple dozen feet away, reading a book at the counter, his hair slowly falling out of its knot at the back of his head. Who the fuck cared about four consecutive gutter balls when Silco was tucking his bangs behind his ear, crooked teeth worrying his bottom lip as he read? 

A quick glance over at Felicia and Connol to confirm they were distracted from both him and the game by flirting with each other and Vander made his way to where Silco was leaning against the counter, holding the book in one hand, propped against his fingers while his pinky and thumb braced against the pages to keep them open. Vander watched, horribly endeared by the way Silco was fiddling with the top corner of the page he was reading, his long, slightly knobby fingers just waiting to flip the page. It felt almost voyeuristic, watching Silco in his own little world, but the spell was broken when he looked up as Vander approached, replacing his bookmark and setting it aside on the counter.

“Did you need something?” Silco asked, standing up straight. 

The girl that Silco had been working with was gone for the night, so there was no one to interrupt them, save for Felicia when she inevitably called Vander back to their lane to take his turn, or the occasional bowler who needed some assistance. But there were only a few people left still playing, so there wasn’t really anyone who needed Silco’s attention. Vander was all too happy to make the most of it.

“Just wanted to offer you some company,” Vander said, leaning his forearms against the counter. He kept a polite amount of space between them, cognizant of Silco’s flight response.

“I’m working,” Silco reminded him, ears going a touch pink when Vander gave an exaggerated nod towards his book. “And I was doing just fine with my book.” It sounded like a dismissal, but Vander waited an extra second, hopeful. Silco hesitated for another breath before asking, “How’s the game going?”

Vander chuckled. He felt giddy standing there, finally getting to see Silco after thinking about him almost constantly over the break. “Fel’s absolutely destroying us. I had no idea she was so good.”

Silco’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Maybe you just really suck,” he teased. Gods, Vander wanted to kiss him.

Vander grinned. “Too bad you couldn’t bowl with us for a bit. At least while it’s slow.” He wondered if Silco was any good at bowling and then stopped himself when he started to actually imagine Silco bowling, the smooth slope of his spine as he tossed a ball down the lane, the way his muscles would shift under his shirt. “What time do you get off?” he asked instead, clearing his throat a little.

Silco’s eyes slid to the clock on the wall. “Lanes close at ten. It’s a school night, after all.” It wasn’t an answer, but it was enough for Vander to go off of, an idea sparking. 

“Manic pixie beef cake! It’s your turn!” Felicia shouted, thoroughly interrupting whatever moment he hoped to have with Silco. 

Silco looked like he was trying to smother a smile, which certainly didn’t make Vander want to go throw a ten pound ball down a slippery stretch of flooring. After another moment of hesitation, Vander pushed away from the counter and made his return. He rolled his eyes at the way Felicia fluttered her lashes at him.

”Sorry to interrupt your little date, but I have a game to win,” Felicia said, gesturing for him to hurry up. He took his turn without really paying attention, much to Felicia’s delight. She had beaten them by an embarrassing margin, but the sting of loss was dulled when Vander glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Silco watching them.

— — — 

“One more game?” Felicia asked when they had all bowled the final frame on their second game.

“Why? So you can dog walk us again?” Connol said. He was sprawled across three seats, his head perched on Vander’s lap while they commiserated over their second defeat. “Babe, spare us our dignity.”

Felicia all but cackled. “Please,” she said, giving Connol a little pout.

”Gods, Vander, help me out, buddy. I’m so fucking weak for this woman,” Connol said, sitting up and pulling Felicia into his lap. She yelped and went down laughing, tucking her face into Connol’s shoulder. 

Vander used their distraction to actually consider the options. Another game meant a bit more time near Silco, so Vander was inclined to say yes. But Connol was right. Getting rolled by Felicia for a third time was too much to bear. His ego was suitably bruised looking at their scores glowing above them on the scoreboard. He didn’t have to leave. He doubted that Silco would actually make them leave, considering that The Lanes wasn’t busy.

It was just past eight o’clock, though. Vander didn’t think he could come up with a good enough excuse to linger for another two hours without actually playing a game. Maybe if the place remained quiet, Silco would be able to close a bit early, but definitely not two hours before close. 

“I think that’s it for me,” Vander eventually agreed. 

Felicia leaned back far enough from Connol to pout. “You guys are no fun.”

”Baby, I promise I will let you dominate me some other time, okay? Let me have my pride tonight,” Connol said obliviously, much to Felicia’s delight. Vander cleared his throat at the same moment the penny dropped for Connol. “Wait! I heard it, not like—not like that.”

”Hey, I’m not judging,” Vander laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. Felicia just cackled before kissing Connol again. Just like that, Vander was forgotten. He rolled his eyes as he started to untie his bowling shoes. He didn’t even bother interrupting his friends, instead slipping his feet into his sneakers and making his way over to the shoe counter. 

Silco glanced up, his face twisting into a grimace as he looked past Vander, no doubt thanks to the rather vigorous public display of affection happening behind him. “That has to be illegal,” Silco said, shaking himself like seeing their friends make out was the height of ick.

”I don’t think it is,” Vander said, placing his shoes on the counter. Silco grabbed them by the heel and sprayed them with disinfectant, keeping his eyes firmly on the task.

”It should be.” Vander couldn’t help but laugh at Silco’s affronted tone. “You all heading out then?” Silco asked, stepping over to the computer to mark their lane as free without waiting for Vander to answer. 

“We’re definitely done with bowling for tonight,” Vander said, leaning on the counter. “Felicia handed our asses to us twice, which was enough for one evening.” 

“Yes, I can see you were truly suffering.” Silco glanced back over towards lane ten and made another face. “Hold on.” Silco reached over and grabbed an old looking microphone, flipping on a switch that interrupted the music. “Pardon the interruption, but can Brass Knuckle Sweetheart and Double Caked Cutie Pie stop being disgusting on lane ten?” Vander laughed and turned in time to see Felicia and Connol leap apart, faces burning. 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you did that.” Vander buried his face in his hands. Silco shrugged, flipping the music back on.

“It's my last shift, I’m not too worried about job security.” 

Silco’s smirk was full of mischief, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made Vander feel a bit breathless. He was tempted to lean over the counter, pull Silco in by the back of his neck, kiss him until another bowler complained. The public indecency charge would be worth it, as long as he got to get his hands wrapped around Silco’s slim waist. He was ready to say fuck it, ask when Silco was off, if they could get a drink somewhere, anywhere, so that Vander could ask him more about his break, about his classes this semester, and somehow charm his way into taking Silco on a proper date. The look Silco aimed at him had the words on the tip of his tongue.

“Has anyone mentioned lately that you’re a giant dick?” Felicia snapped, dropping her shoes on the counter next to Vander and making him jump. Connol was still beet red as he offered Silco a sheepish smile. 

“Has anyone ever told you that dry humping in the middle of a bowling alley is deeply disgusting and inappropriate?” Silco drawled, unbothered by the sharpness of Felicia’s tone. Vander choked back a snort; they’d hardly been dry humping. Felicia made an outraged noise, but Silco just smiled at her like he knew he’d won.

“Has anyone ever told you that a bad personality doesn’t actually overcompensate for having a small penis?” 

“Spend a lot of time thinking about my penis?” Silco shot back. “Should Connol be jealous?”

They went back and forth like that, Vander and Connol entirely forgotten. Connol bumped into Vander’s shoulder.

“You gonna stick around?” Connol asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Vander felt his face burn, fueled by the prospect of Silco rejecting him flat out. 

“I was about to ask about that,” Vander said, his tone deadpan. Connol made a sound of understanding and gave Vander a wink, far too obvious considering that Silco was right there. He wondered how long he’d have to wait for Silco and Felicia to stop bickering.

Before he got his chance, another bowler came up to the counter, drawing Silco’s attention. He sniffed in Felicia’s general direction and turned to face the other patron. Any far-fetched hopes Vander had for Silco being able to close early evaporated when the rest of the new bowler's party joined them at the counter. It was clear Silco was going to be busy for a while.

He tried not to feel too disappointed as he followed Felicia and Connol to the exit, throwing one last glance over his shoulder in time to see Silco duck behind the counter to grab the correct shoes.

“We could still go to a pub,” Felicia offered, face scrunched against the bitter evening chill.

“We could, or we could get a decent night’s sleep before classes start,” Connol said, teeth chattering. Vander was grateful for the jacket he’d purchased last semester; Lest had been right about the investment.

“Or, you could come back to my room because my roommate isn’t coming back until tomorrow.” Before Vander could ask Felicia if her roommate was insane, Connol started booking it to her dorm. Felicia’s triumphant cackle rang through the campus as she hurried to catch up. “Have a good night, Vander!” she called over her shoulder. Vander huffed as he watched them disappear across the quad.

He started in the direction of his own dorm, trudging as the wind tried to cut through him and trying not to think of it as the universe telling him to turn back. He could practically hear Benzo calling him a jackass wannabe romantic and felt a pang at the thought of spending the night in stony silence, wishing that his best friend would talk to him. 

“Fuck it,” he growled, turning on his heel and heading back towards the bowing alley. There was bound to be a dive nearby where he could spend the hour and change until Silco was off of work. The worst that could happen was that he overpaid for a weak beer.

+   + +

Silco had started on his closing checklist as soon as the last customers left in hopes that he would be able to make the last bus to campus, but it was still almost eleven by the time he turned off the lights. He'd been tempted to say fuck it and leave the second half of his list unfinished, but his grandmother had raised him better than that. Since it was his last shift, Silco left his key on the counter before setting the alarm and making his way to the back door of The Lanes, slipping out into the dark cold. The last bus that went back to campus had come and gone more than half an hour ago which meant that Silco was forced to walk the few blocks back to campus.

"Janna's fucking tits," Silco hissed, wrapping his layers more tightly around himself. He should have just left early; it wasn't like he was going to be using the place as a reference.

The alley that ran alongside the building was dark, one stereotypically flickering light the only source of light. Just one more thing he was looking forward to never doing again. As he made his way towards the sidewalk, there was movement in the dark and he froze, heart hammering in his chest. He grabbed his keys for the mini pepper spray that he carried when a moment later Vander came into view under the weak light.

“Fucking—Janna, Vander!” Silco hissed. “You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing out here?”

Vander had the decency to look embarrassed, ducking his head. Silco almost wished that he could see the way the cold had nipped at Vander’s cheeks and turned them red. “Sorry,” he said, his breath coming out in small, wispy puffs. “I wanted to keep you company on your way home.”

Silco’s brows furrowed. Vander and the others had left The Lanes hours ago. “What? How long have you been out here? It’s freezing.” Silco’s body shivered, as if to further prove his point. 

Vander shrugged. “Not that long. I walked back with Felicia and Connol at first. Then I went to that little cafe around the corner? Looks like a dive but is actually kinda bougie inside? They only closed at ten, so…An hour?”

Silco’s brows jumped up his forehead. “An hour? Why didn’t you just come inside?” 

The look on Vander’s face suggested that hadn’t occurred to him. “I didn’t think you’d let me,” he admitted, and Silco’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He probably would have bitched and moaned about it, but he wouldn't have left Vander outside to freeze if he'd known Vander was waiting.

He sighed. He was too tired and it was too cold to argue about this. “Come on. It’s cold and it’s late.”

They fell into step next to each other on the sidewalk towards campus. The quiet between them was comfortable, just their shoes crunching on snow and ice, but it didn’t last. Silco could tell that Vander wanted to speak, and he was unsurprised when he did just that a moment later. “We did great on our sociology assignment,” he said. 

Silco shrugged. “Only an A minus," he said, as if that was an easy feat; that particular professor had a reputation for having high standards.

Vander bumped him with his elbow. “Come on, that’s still good. And you know it’s just because the professor is a tough marker. That was a good paper.”

Silco couldn’t help a small smile. “It was.”

They fell into silence again for a moment, before Vander once again interrupted it, seemingly incapable of keeping his mouth shut. After so many weeks trying not to think about him, his idle chatter almost felt like a balm. “Did you do anything for the solstice?”

Silco hummed. “Lest invited me to a burlesque show at a place she sometimes works at.” Hardly the most traditional celebration, but it was more than Silco had done in years.

“Wow. That sounds…interesting,” Vander said. Something in his voice made Silco wonder if Vander had ever gone to something like that. "Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Silco admitted. 

He thought back to the day he’d gone into town to visit Lest after campus had emptied out, how she had asked him a similar question, what his plans for the holiday were, and the look she’d given him when he’d said he would spend it alone the way he always did.

“Absolutely not,” Lest had said decisively. “You’re coming out with me. It’s time to earn your FRIEND discount,” she added. “Because we’re friends.” Her tone invited no argument, and Silco had only reluctantly agreed. He'd never been to an actual burlesque show, and it had been a good time, sharing Lest's pipe with her and letting her good weed swath over him like a weighted blanket.

“Good,” Vander said, drawing Silco back to the present. “I’m glad.”

The walk back to campus wasn't long, even with the cold wind trying to steal their breath away. Silco wondered idly if they would part ways once were back on campus, but Vander stayed with Silco until they were outside his building. Chivalrous bastard. “Thanks for walking me home,” Silco said, turning towards Vander once they reached his door.

Between one breath and the next, Vander was stepping into Silco's space and sliding his hand around Silco’s jaw to cup his chilled cheek. His hand was warm from being tucked in his pockets and Silco unconsciously leaned towards that warmth. His thumb smoothed across it once, twice, and then Vander was leaning in, kissing him so softly that Silco's chest ached. He reached up to grip Vander’s wrist where he held him, not intending to pull him away, but needing that connection to ground himself as the firelights that seemed to live inside his stomach these days swirled about. Weeks of attempting to banish Vander from his thoughts crumbled under the weight of Vander against him. Silco was only human, after all.

Silco felt dizzy with emotion as Vander had his fill of kissing him, brushing their lips together one last time before stepping back. Silco maintained his grip on Vander’s wrist until he felt steady on his feet. 

“I missed you,” Vander said softly, his breath condensing into a cloud between their faces.

Silco's breath caught in his chest. “You did?" he asked before he could stop himself. This new admission sent the firelights swirling again.

Vander huffed a quiet laugh. He gently twisted his wrist out of Silco's hold, only to tangle their fingers together. “Yeah, I did. Pretty sure I didn't stop thinking about you the entire break.” He said it so easily.

I've got you, love.

Heat burned behind Silco’s eyes and he blinked rapidly trying to dispel the feeling. Memories of Lukas bubbled to the surface, the painful way he’d not given Silco a second glance after the summer break, despite months of illicit kisses and whispered promises. Vander was not Lukas. Silco knew that. But still, the fact that Vander had missed him, thought about him, wanted him enough to venture out into the cold just to walk him home. It was too much. How was he supposed to move on and forgot all about last semester when Vander said things that made him feel sick with want?

He certainly wasn’t prepared to admit aloud that his own thoughts had been occupied by the rugby player, too. He couldn't possibly tell him yhat Silco had dreamt of him that very morning.

“Guess I should let you go inside,” Vander said quietly, breaking Silco out of his spiral. It had started to snow again, fat, wet snowflakes quickly melting against their skin.

“Yeah,” Silco said softly, though he made no move towards the door. He knew, deep down, that he was doomed. This would be such a train wreck eventually, but right now he was weak and Vander had missed him.

They lingered for another few moments until the wind picked up, cutting between them and forcing them to take a step apart. Silco shook his head and swiped his ID to enter his building. “Good night, Vander.”

“Night, Silco.”

He took his time on the stairs up to his dorm, briefly considering going back and inviting Vander inside. What would happen if he decided to go for broke, to do the stupid thing without worrying about every potential consequence? Thankfully, he managed to keep his wits about himself and made it to his dorm room. Once inside, he dropped his bag and shed his layers. He needed a cigarette. He went to the window to open it and set up his little fan, glancing down at the sidewalk below. Vander was still there, looking up at the building. Silco was far enough away that he couldn't make out Vander's expression at first, until a smile spread across his face when he caught sight of Silco in the window. A small dusting of snow had built up on his shoulders in the time that it had taken Silco to get upstairs.

He opened the window a crack. It was fucking freezing. “Go home, Vander,” he called.

He watched the way Vander bit his lower lip as he tried to suppress a grin, walking backward, the same way he had earlier that night at the bowling alley. He lifted his hand in a wave, before turning on his heel, falling into a light jog as the snow began to fall more heavily around him. 

Maybe Silco could forgive Felicia this time.

Chapter Text

Silco groaned as he woke to his phone buzzing on his bedside table. He dragged his hands down his face before rolling over to bury his head under his pillow in the vain attempt to block out the noise.

"Shut the fuck uuuup."

His phone kept buzzing, text after text coming through while he listened. Finally, after what felt like hours, it finally stopped. Silco counted to five before he reached out, just in case Felicia was typing out a novel. He would have preferred that over the rapid fire delivery as was often her style. Not for the first time, Silco asked himself why he had let her bully her way into his life; no one but her would text him so damn early.

He grabbed at his night stand for a second, blindly reaching for his phone and rolling onto his back again.

Fel: morning!!!

Fel: first daaaaay!!!!!

Fel: we're heading to the dining hall in a few

Fel: don't forget your schedule

Fel: loser!

Silco groaned again and considered bailing on her.

He was still mad at her for her stunt the night before, showing up at the bowling alley with Vander and Connol like she didn’t know he would be there. He couldn't wait for the pointed looks and unsubtle hints at breakfast, her smug grin so delighted at his pain. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Vander. The man had consumed his thoughts nearly all break, which had been bad enough. Even now he couldn’t stop thinking about Vander waiting for him outside in the cold to walk him home, the way he’d said he’d missed Silco, the way he’d kissed him, and the way he had lingered down on the sidewalk until Silco was safely inside. His boyish grin as he'd finally started back to his own dorm.

Silco hadn’t been able to sleep after that. He’d put on a podcast, which usually helped quiet his mind, but instead he tossed and turned for nearly an hour before finally giving up. But being awake meant thinking about Vander. In the end, he'd stayed up late reading his ethics textbook in preparation for the start of classes; thankfully his professor had put out the syllabus early. It had worked, somewhat, to distract his thoughts from slipping back to Vander and he’d fallen asleep with his textbook against his chest sometime around two a.m.

Silco let himself have one, long sigh before he got up. His phone buzzed again in his hands.

Fel: we also need to go to the bookstore

Fel: so hurry up please!

He needed a cigarette.

Just to spite her, Silco decided to take his time getting dressed. He layered up against the cold, slipping his bag over his shoulder before pulling on his coat so that it wouldn't fall off during his walk. He grimaced at the sound of tree branches against glass as the wind battered the twigs against his window. It wasn't snowing, so far as he could tell, but he still wasn’t looking forward to being out in it himself.

He bit out a curse at the sting of the wind against his face as soon as he exited his dorm building. Tucking a cigarette between his lips, he cupped his hand around his lighter as he tried to strike a flame, turning his body against the wind. When the lighter caught, he brought it quickly to the tip of his cigarette, letting out a sigh as that first hit of nicotine touched the back of his throat. The anxiety choking him dissipated as he let out the smoke between his lips, carried away on the wind as soon as it left his mouth. He popped the collar of his coat to protect himself against the cold and marched toward the dining hall, the snow crunching beneath his feet.

After almost three weeks with barely a soul around, the campus felt conjested, the pathways between buildings overwhelmingly packed with students. Silco walked off the path no less than three times to avoid larger groups that blocked the way. The dining hall, much like the rest of campus, felt suffocating as Silco stepped through the doors and out of the chill. He swiped his ID and stepped aside so as to not create a traffic jam at the entrance while he looked for Felicia's distinctive hair amongst the tables.

“Silco!” Felicia called over the din when she spotted him, shooting up out her chair to wave him over.

He grimaced as a couple people nearby glanced over in his direction and quickly walked over to where she was sitting. He could only hope that the pair of them wouldn't pester him with questions about how he'd spent his break.

"Honestly, Felicia," Silco started as he approached the table.

The words died in his throat when he saw that Felicia and Connol weren't alone. Between her scheming last night and now this, Silco could strangle her. He slowed as he reached the table, and for one bright moment considered turning right around.

Vander looked up at him with a lazy smile that had no right to look so good. Fuck him.

"Morning, Sil." His voice was still rough with sleep, which only served to remind Silco of the last time he'd heard it that way, that night during finals week when Vander had just shown up at his door, and Silco, exhuasted, had fallen asleep tucked against his chest.

Thankfully, Felicia wrapped Silco into a hug before he could trip over his own tongue at the way the shortened version of his name sounded coming from Vander’s lips. Those soft, frustratingly kissable lips.

“You are way too perky,” Silco said, making a disgusted sound and fighting against her hold half-heartedly when Felicia kissed his cheek with an exaggerated smack of her lips.

“You are way too grumpy,” Felicia returned easily. “Come join us.”

She gave him a little shove towards the open chair across from her as she sat down again. The open chair next to Vander. The only seat left at the table. Because Felicia was sitting next to Connol, and Connol was across from Vander, which meant that Silco would be sitting across from Felicia. Which also happened to be next to Vander.

Oblivious to his plight, Connol and Vander resumed their previous conversation, but he could see the way Vander’s eyes kept flitting his way as they spoke, which did little to settle the firelights in Silco's stomach. He wasn't prepared to just have breakfast with Vander and dish about his schedule. Not when he hadn't let himself even process everything last night. Nevermind the fact that Vander was bound to ask more about the break, and Silco didn't feel like doing the conversational gymnastics of avoiding admitting that he had stayed on campus because he was completely alone.

“Let me grab a coffee first,” he said as he removed his coat and bag, draping both over the back of his chair. At a bare minimum, he couldn't be expected to be pleasant without caffeine.

He headed towards the beverage station's miraculously short queue and tried to think of ways to keep the conversation focused on classes and the semester ahead. Once it was his turn, he filled the largest cup near to the brim before he added his requisite number of sugar packets. Lifting the cup to his lips, he let out an audible sigh. The coffee in the cafeteria always had a burnt edge to it he could never quite cover with sugar, but it was always strong, which Silco appreciated.

He glanced over at the table and took another scalding, too-big-sip. Vander was laughing at something Connol said, shoulders shaking. Big shoulders. Had they gotten bigger, somehow? Was that physically possible, or was Vander some kind of special plague designed just to torture Silco?

While he was up, he decided he might as well also get something to eat. He hadn't felt particularly hungry before that moment, but all the food set out had his stomach growling. The dining hall hadn't been open over break, so Silco made due with protein bars, instant noodles, and his shift meals at the Lanes. He'd ended last semester with enough meal credits that he'd been able to visit the little diner on campus a couple of times, but he'd hardly call that nutritionally balanced. Thankfully Silco’s smoking made it so that he didn’t feel hungry that often, which helped during those especially lean times. Grabbing a tray he browsed around the options, grabbing a bit of everything.

When he was little, his grandmother would serve him "special breakfast" on the first day of school. He could count the times they ate at a restaurant on one hand, but on the first day of school, his grandmother would go to one of the nicer bakeries in town and get day-old sticky buns and warm them up back at home. He hadn't realized that you could purchase fresh sticky buns until years later, not that he would have cared either way.

The first day of school always meant being full of pillowy soft dough and licking thick toffee sauce off his fingers while she pretended to scold him for bad manners. When he got older and she got sick, he would be the one to make the trek across town, even if it meant waking up at ass o'clock in the morning to make it there and back before school started. She'd smile at him and pat his cheek, reminding him to pay attention and do his best.

He hadn't thought about his first day of school breakfasts in years, but there amongst the other baked breakfast options were sticky buns with their dark toffee sauce, and the sugar sweet scent of them sent him careening back into his grandmother’s kitchen, her kind eyes lined with wrinkles, watching him across the table as he ate his fill. It still hurt the same, that deep ache in his chest she left behind when she'd died.

Someone made an impatient sound behind him, and Silco startled. He rapidly blinked up at the ceiling, dispelling the heat behind his eyes until it felt like he could breathe again, fitting one of the sticky buns onto his already loaded tray before quickly moving on.

Eventually, he ran out of excuses not to go sit down. His tray was getting heavy and his coffee was starting to cool.

"Oh, good! I thought you'd gotten lost," Felicia said, glaring daggers at him for taking so long when she wanted to start the business portion of this breakfast meeting.

Silco rolled his eyes and set his tray down. He could feel Vander next to him, as if their proximity set all the nerves on his left side alight.

"Damn, Silco, you leave any food for the rest of the student body?" Connol asked, giving Silco a grin like he was somehow in on the joke. Felicia gave her boyfriend a half-hearted shove as Silco scowled down at his tray. "Sorry, man, just kidding. I can't even talk, I already went back for seconds."

"Which is amazing considering just how much his mom cooked for the solstice," Felicia muttered.

"Hey! I’ve got a fast metabolism! And food goes quick when you’ve got six brothers."

Silco tuned Connol and Felicia's banter out, keeping his focus on his plate and not on the fact that Vander was quiet. A quick glance in his direction confirmed Silco's suspicion that Vander was watching him.

This was weird, right? Having breakfast with Felicia and Connol wasn't exactly out of the ordinary at this point, but the four of them? That had never happened before. After last night—Silco couldn't be sure what Vander was thinking, what he was expecting. Instead of actually addressing how last night had made him feel, he had cracked open his textbooks. What if Vander said something in front of Connol and Felicia?

“Okay!" Felicia rubbed her hands together like some parody of a cartoon villain. "What are you taking this semester, Sil?”

Right.

Silco took his time chewing his breakfast, stalling for an extra moment. That was what meeting up this morning was about, so why did Silco feel like his heart was going to pound out of his chest? For a second, all he could think about was how often he had seen Vander last semester, and that was when he hadn't been privy to Silco's schedule. He felt Vander shift, their elbows bumping slightly. Silco tried not to react and instead swallowed his mouthful and began counting out his classes on his fingers.

“I’ve got Earth Science Monday and Wednesday, with a lab on Friday. Philosophy and Ethics Tuesday and Thursday. Cooperation and Conflict on Wednesday, and Political Philosophy on Friday. And then my work study on Thursday and Saturday.”

Felicia grabbed Silco and Connol's arms excitedly and bounced in her seat, narrowly avoiding spilling their drinks. “We’re all taking Earth Science, too! What time is your class?”

Silco’s stomach somehow both sank and lodged itself in his throat. He half wished that it would choke him and put him out of his misery already. “In the afternoon...” He had his earth sciences textbook in his bag so that he wouldn't have to go back to his dorm before class.

She shook him hard enough that Silco grabbed his coffee with his free hand to remove it from her path of terror. To his credit, Connol just let his arm hang for Felicia to jerk around as much as she wished. “Oh my gosh!” she practically squealed. “We’re all in the same class! What time is your lab?”

“Morning,” Silco replied as he scooted his tray away from her and freed his arm. Felicia’s face fell. He almost wanted to stick his tongue out at her, but he managed to restrain himself from doing something so childish.

“Aw. Connol and I have our lab in the evening." She looked so honestly disappointed for a moment that Silco almost felt bad about his schedule, but then she continued with a sly grin. "But Vander also has the morning lab, don’t you, Vander?”

Why was Silco friends with her?

"Yeah, looks like it," Vander said, showing the table his phone screen where he had his schedule.

Silco swallowed hard. Vander's chair creaked as he shifted and then his knee was pressed against Silco’s beneath the table, making Silco’s breath catch in his throat. Another class with Vander. How was he going to put all these feelings he was having aside when he was going to see him three times a week? He could see it now, Felicia insisting that they sit together during lectures, Vander sitting next to him during their lab and asking him if he wanted to be lab partners. At least he knew that Vander was capable of doing good work. This time Silco was more worried about his ability to keep his hands to himself.

"Okay, well, I have Principles of Engineering on Tuesdays and Fridays…" Felicia started, looking at her own phone.

Silco continued to eat his breakfast, working his way towards his sticky bun. He half-listened to Connol and Vander's schedules, grimacing at Vander's description of a particularly zealous professor who had already assigned work, before fully tuning out when the conversation moved to the rugby off-season. Even still, he kept waiting for Vander to prod at him, bring him into the conversation again, but he was left to eat his breakfast in relative peace.

Finally, Silco picked up his sticky bun, tearing off a piece and letting his eyes close as if to stave off the bittersweet ache of nostalgia under his ribs.

"I still can't believe you have such a sweet tooth."

Vander's amused tone crashed through Silco's relative peace, followed quickly by their knees bumping against each other again. Silco scowled over at Vander, though the efficacy of his withering stare was somewhat undercut by the toffee sauce coating his fingers.

"I don't see why it's such a shock to you," Silco said, shifting his focus back to the pastry in his hands. He folded the bit of dough in half before putting it into his mouth. The pastry was soft and tender between his teeth, the sauce thick and sweet on his tongue. Briefly he was transported back into his grandmother’s small kitchen, and he imagined her fond smile across the table as he chewed.

"Mmm, no, I get it,” Felicia interjected with a tilt of her head, and Silco was ripped from his grandmother’s kitchen and back into the bustling cafeteria. “You have a whole vibe, Sil…” She made a gesture with her hand that encompassed all of him. “…that does not scream 'this man puts an entire cup of sugar into his morning coffee."

Silco stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucking the rich toffee sauce from it. “Good,” he said when he drew it out. “I like not being predictable.”

Vander smiled. “No one said that.”

Silco shoved him with his elbow as he sucked another toffee covered finger between his lips. “Shut up,” he said, cheeks turning hot.

Vander chuckled, pressing back into Silco's shove just enough that Silco felt the resistance. He was firm, but Silco knew that if he pushed, Vander would yield. Instead, he shifted back, propping both elbows on the table and taking another bite of his bun. Across from him, Felicia and Connol were sharing a look that Silco didn’t like the look of.

"Which one of you hasn't bought your books yet?" Silco asked after a moment, injecting just enough judgement in his tone to rile Felicia up and succeed in shifting the focus to someone other than him. He let her do just that, going into a rant about bookstore hours while they finished breakfast.

+ + +

Vander had a slight spring in his step when he returned to his dorm later that afternoon. He felt a little bit bad for the way Silco was obviously blindsided by Felicia at breakfast, but he liked the time they got to spend together after missing him all break. It was almost overwhelming having Silco so close in the past twenty-four hours after weeks of not being able to see the other man. And now they had another class together, another excuse for Vander to see Silco three times a week; Vander was practically floating with the way giddiness fizzed in his chest.

Vander still tried to be cognizant of Silco's feral-cat-like tendencies, choosing to sit on the opposite end of their little group in earth sciences and letting Connol and Felicia act as a buffer between them. Honestly, he'd been hoping that a little distance would help him pay better attention, but he'd still felt Silco's gaze on him throughout class. He'd caught Silco's eye and given him a small smile, friendly, casual, but Silco had given him a look like Vander had grown a second head and returned his focus to whatever the professor was saying about assignments. Vander tried not to be bothered by the reaction; he was playing the long game, letting Silco come to him.

Benzo was in their room when Vander opened the door, and he looked up when Vander stepped inside. His giddy mood dampened as he closed the door behind him, unsure of what to expect and hating the frigid tension hanging between them. He and Benzo had been fast friends ever since they started training before freshman year; Vander couldn't remember an argument between them that had lasted more than a day. Benzo's brief glance in his direction was more acknowledgement than he’d given Vander since the end of last semester, which made Vander hope that Benzo’s frosty mood was beginning to thaw.

“Hey,” he said cautiously, testing the waters as he dropped his bag at the foot of his bed and began to peel out of his jacket.

“Hey,” Benzo replied. His tone wasn’t all that enthusiastic, but he was talking to Vander, and that was an improvement. Right?

“How was your break?” Vander asked as he hung up his jacket. He pulled out his desk chair, swinging his leg over the seat and crossing his arms over the back.

Benzo shifted, pushing himself up to lean on his elbow on his bed. “Fine. Kinda boring, honestly. Gramps had me doing all the little jobs he'd been promising to do for my Nona. Fixing lights, that kinda shit."

Vander hummed. He knew for all his complaining, Benzo worried a lot about how his grandparents faired while he was at school, much like Vander did with his parents. At least his mom and dad were still relatively young; Benzo's grandparents were both at least in their seventies. It was a poorly kept secret that the older generations of Zaunites had a shorter life expectancy thanks to the lack of clean air when they were growing up. The county had only put in special ventilation to help with the air quality when Vander's parents were kids.

“How about you?” Benzo's question almost surprised him, but the fact he was continuing the conversation was a good sign. Even still, Vander chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset this tentative demonstration of good will.

He scratched at his chin; his stubble was starting to itch. "Yeah, good. You know, busy. I had to help my parents with the bar, so I didn’t really get a break so much.”

"How'd they react to your academic probation?" Benzo asked bluntly, a clear indication that all was not forgiven.

Vander frowned and propped his chin on his arms. "I didn't really bring it up," he admitted. "I feel like…I know they're proud of me, first one to go to university and all, but…" He heaved a weary sigh. "I also know that they'd love having me back full time. If I got expelled, or dropped out or whatever, as long as I spun it the right way, they probably wouldn't fight me on it, y'know?"

Benzo didn’t reply, merely watching Vander from where he was reclined on his bed.

The conversation hung, and Vander chewed the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit he’d had since childhood that he’d never quite been able to break. “Look, man. I'm sorry about all the shit that happened last semester. I just—I mean, are we…good?” he asked after a moment.

Benzo sighed and flopped back to look at the ceiling. “Yeah, dude, we’re good.”

As relieved as he was to haer it, Vander wasn’t entirely convinced. “Are you sure? I’m glad you’re talking to me again, but I just want to make sure that we’re actually ok.”

“We’re good, Vander. Relax." Benzo said. "I can't stay mad at that fat head of yours."

Vander snorted. The tension in the room seemed to pop and the weight Vander had been carrying on his shoulders felt immediately lighter.

"M'head's not that fat,” he said, kicking his leg out even though he was too far away to do any damage.

Benzo hummed. "Just past the average, I'd say."

+ + +

Normally, the first week of classes was nothing altogether exciting. The first class was usually administrative, each professor going over the syllabus and detailing their expectations for their students . This semester was no different in that respect, and yet…Silco couldn't recall a time when he had felt so stressed so early on. Obviously some of feeling of overwhelm was to be expected as assignments and reading began to pile up, but the workload wasn't the problem.

No, the problem was Silco. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his classes, Vander permeated his thoughts. Instead of charting out his calendar and adding due dates with color-coded sticky notes, he found himself trying to puzzle out why Vander was behaving…unexpectedly.

He couldn't think of the right word for what Vander was doing, and it was starting to drive Silco up a wall.

After his breakfast ambush, Silco had let himself be grudgingly dragged along by Felicia to the bookstore. Being on campus over the break, he was able to buy his books before the rush of students returning, and had hoped to avoid the chaos of the bookstore on the first day of classes. Naturally, Connol and Vander had tagged along, and Silco expected to be pestered into joining the conversation, on guard for when someone asked him about his break. But Vander had kept to the other side of the group, chatting casually with Connol. Silco managed to catch his eyes a couple of times through the walk half way across campus, only for his frown to be met with a soft smile.

The respectful distance had remained throughout the week, and Silco still couldn't figure out what Vander's game was. He’d sat on the far end of the group opposite Silco in their first Earth Science class, which should have been good, but Silco had chewed through the end of his pen trying to listen to the professor and unsuccessfully ignoring the way Vander sat slightly hunched over the auditorium desk that was not built for someone his size.

Silco just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Where was the Vander that had waited an hour in the snow, just to walk Silco home? Where was the Vander that seemed so intent to include Silco in conversation, despite Silco's clear disinterest? What possibly had changed over the course of ten hours? Most importantly of all, why did Silco care so much?

Even in their lab yesterday, Vander had chosen to sit at another table. It should have felt like Vander was respecting his space, was giving Silco the option of working with someone else, and Silco tried to remind himself that he didn't want Vander distracting him. Except, much like their lecture, the distance only served to draw attention to Vander’s potentially deliberate consideration, made worse because this time Silco knew he was there. He longed for the days of last semester when he was blissfully unaware that they shared that sociology class, when Vander only dominated half his thoughts.

Vander wasn't being rude, or standoffish, or anything besides perfectly polite, and Silco felt like he was going insane. So much for his plan to use the break to get over this stupid little knot of feelings that twisted Silco's lungs whenever Vander so much as smiled at him. One week back in Vander's general vacinity and Silco was pining like a pathetic YA novel protagonist.

Suffice it to say, when Lest texted him on Friday evening asking if he wanted to hang out at her apartment that weekend, Silco didn't have a hard time agreeing. Some time off campus would do him good, and Lest always had a full stash of weed to share. All he had to do was make it through his first work study shift on Saturday before escaping for a few hours.

This early in the semester, it wasn't surprising that there wasn't a ton for Silco to do yet. He spent the first half of his shift assisting Mariah with some archiving project she was working on, only switching to more mundane tasks when she left for the day. He was shelving books around the corner from his usual study spot and listening to a podcast when he caught movement near his table just beyond the stacks.

Beyond the fact that the semester had only just begun, almost no one ever used his table. That was one of the reasons why Silco preferred it, so he was surprised to see that someone would be there now. Leaving his cart, he approached the end of the aisle, curious about who might be there, only to find none other than Vander. The worry about the proximity of the other student in his life which had been temporarily shelved during his work slammed into Silco, stopping him in his tracks. What the hell was this? Vander barely paid any attention to Silco during their multiple classes besides light small talk amongst a group and now he was just here? At Silco's table?!

So this was the game Vander had been playing at that week; waiting for an opportunity to corner Silco when he was alone. So much for being respectful, Silco though to himself with a huff. He made to backtrack towards his cart when he knocked his shoulder into the closest shelf, sending a couple of books tumbling to the floor. Vander looked up at the sound and offered him what was becoming a familiar smile and a small wave before returning his attention to the textbook on the table in front of him. Silco scowled and rubbed his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Silco asked accusingly as he approached the edge of the table after the shock of seeing Vander had passed. He crossed his arms in front of him like it would help to shield against Vander's annoying, boyish charm shtick.

Vander looked up at him again, his full brows quirked. "Hey, Silco. How's it going?" he asked with exaggerated politeness. Silco refused to look at his mouth, but he could imagine the little smirk there. "It’s a great spot.”

“I’m aware," Silco sneered, curling his fingers to grip more firmly at his arms. "What are you doing here?”

Vander looked down at his books spread out on the table. “Studying,” he said, as if that was his only agenda. Janna, Silco sounded so fucking paranoid.

"And there's nowhere else you could do that?" Silco snapped, hackles raised at the way Vander looked at him like he could see right through Silco's pathetic attempt to seem unaffected. Vander leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, which caused the sleeves of his shirt to pull taught against his shoulders.

"Do you not want me here?" Vander asked, his voice low and teasing. Silco hated the little shiver that ran up his spine as Vander cocked his head to one side and continued, "Is my presence a problem?"

Oh, so clever, turning Silco's words back on him.

"No," Silco bit out. They locked eyes for a moment, neither willing to back down at first.

"Good,” Vander replied with obvious satisfaction. “You're welcome to join me," he added with a level of nonchalance that made Silco bristle.

"I'm working,” Silco informed him.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. It wasn’t like Vander’s use of the table interferred with Silco’s own use considering he was working, but it was the principle of the thing. It was his study spot. He was there first. He called dibs.

“Did you need something, then?” Vander asked with a smile that told Silco he knew exactly what he was doing.

“No,” Silco snapped.

Without further comment he returned to his abandoned shelving cart, pushing it down the nearby aisle until Vander was completely out of sight. It felt like a swarm of firelights had been stirred up in his stomach and his heart beat fast within his chest. He took a moment to breathe and calm himself, ears trained for the sound of footsteps in case Vander decided to follow him, but none came.

Silco hated that it bothered him, and he felt stupid for expecting Vander to abandon his studies just to talk to him. Something he didn’t want, he reminded himself. Yet every time Silco reached the end of an aisle, he would glance towards the table where Vander sat hunched, the muscles of his back shifting beneath his shirt as Silco imagined him running a highlighter along the page. All he’d wanted last semester was for Vander to leave him alone, and now that he was, all Silco wanted was to have his attention.

Clearly the universe was once again trying to force them together. That was easier to fathom than Vander actually being that invested in getting Silco's attention. First it was the run-in at The Lanes, then breakfast with Felicia, then with their overlapping schedules, and now here again in the library.

Maybe it was Silco’s turn to take a hint.

— — —

After what felt like an age, Silco returned the shelving cart to the storage room and sent a quick text to Lest that he was leaving work. He shrugged on his coat, intending to leave directly, but he paused as he headed out of the small staff room. He had been shelving books on the third floor at the end of his shift, so he found himself drawn back towards his table to see if Vander was still there.

It took less than a minute to walk up the central staircase and back towards that rattling heater, and he spent the trip berating himself for bothering to check in the first place. He just wasn't sure if he could stand another week of this tension crawling around in his chest. He wandered over to the table just as Vander was stretching his arms over his head, leaning back in the chair with a soft groan.

“Still here?” Silco asked, and Vander angled his head so he could see him, offering him a tired smile.

He shook out his shoulders a little and rubbed his large hands across his face. Silco took the free moment to appreciate those hands before Vander settled with his forearms braced on the table top. “Trying to wrap my head around this assignment.”

Silco’s brows raised, surprised. “You’ve got an assignment already?” Even all of his professors had only assigned some reading so far.

Vander nodded, folding his hands behind his head. It made his biceps bulge in his shirt, and Silco forced his eyes to drop away lest he get caught staring. “Yeah. This one professor I’ve got really hits the ground running.”

"Right, I think you mentioned that at breakfast," Silco said without thinking. Vander's brows crept up his forehead.

"I didn't think you'd been listening." Did Silco hear something pleased in his tone, or was that wishful thinking?

"That would have been quite the feat considering I was sitting right next to you," Silco drawled. He very pointedly did not look at the open seat next to Vander now.

"Are you sticking around for a while?" Vander asked, leaning forward again. Silco tried not to read anything into the way Vander looked almost, maybe a little, hopeful.

"No. I'm heading out."

Vander smiled again, bigger this time. “Nice of you to stop by to say goodbye.”

Silco rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek to suppress an answering smile. But he couldn’t help the way his cheeks warmed at Vander’s gentle teasing. Gods, but how he wanted to stay.

His phone buzzed deep in his pocket, and he reached inside to glance at the notification from Lest saying she’d see him soon. “Just because you’re sitting here doesn’t mean I’m going to get give up my study spot,” he said, suddenly. "I was here first. I called dibs.”

Vander’s smile stretched into a grin. “Ok,” he said, agreeable as ever. Asshole. “But I plan to keep studying here, too, so you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.”

Given how much their lives overlapped this semester, and how enmeshed their friend group was quickly becoming, that proved to be more true than Silco wanted to admit. Nevermind the fact that his heart raced a bit at the thought of sitting here, trying to get anything productive done with Vander looking all—like that.

“Hey, Silco,” Vander said breaking the silence that had settled between them. Silco mentally shook himself; why the fuck was he still standing there?

“Yes, Vander?” Silco answered with an exaggerated sigh.

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

The question caught him off guard, and Silco opened his mouth to retort, only to snap it closed a second later. Was he asking Silco out on a date? After everything this week, the kiss outside his dorm, telling Silco that he missed him over the break, then days of wondering what Vander was thinking, the other man was just, what? Going for it? The idea of going out with Vander made Silco’s stomach swoop, but he still wasn’t ready to give in that easily.

“I don’t date jocks, remember?” he said, injecting lightheartedness that he did not feel into his tone.

Surprise flashed briefly over Vander’s face before a playful grin crossed his lips. “Right. I forgot about that.” He shrugged. “You’re not my type, anyway,” he added, eyes gleaming, and Silco broke out in goosebumps as he remembered the way Vander had growled I was lying against his ear as he’d carried Silco across his dorm room that first time. Was Vander thinking about the same thing? “Well, we could go out just as friends,” he continued with a raised eyebrow. A challenge.

“But we’re not friends, either,” Silco reminded him. He wasn’t outright saying no and Vander seemed to pick up on that. The question was if Vander was willing to pull this thread to see just how far he could push Silco.

“Hm,” Vander hummed thoughtfully. “Well—” he picked up his abandoned highlighter and tapped it against his bottom lip. Silco wanted to sink his fingers into that thick hair and kiss him. “What if, by some coincidence, we end up at the same place at the same time and maybe hang out together for a bit.”

Silco wanted to say yes. To the date. To hanging out as friends. To whatever Vander wanted. This little game of cat and mouse they were playing, however antagonistic it had started out, was a bit of harmless fun, and he knew that the outcome would most likely be good. At least in the short term. It was the long term consequences that scared him shitless.

“I was thinking of going to Jericho's here on campus later,” Vander continued slowly when Silco didn't say anything; Silco couldn't say anything with his heart on the back of his tongue. “Might have a drink and play some pool or whatever. You should stop by. You know, if you’re free.”

Silco shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe.” His phone buzzed in his pocket again. He really needed to leave, before he did something foolish like jump Vander right at the table.

“I need to go,” Silco said. His feet still felt tethered to the floor. They watched each other for a long minute, until Vander began to flip his books closed, packing them into his bag. If Silco didn’t leave now they’d be leaving together and he didn’t know what would happen if they did. "Bye,” he said abruptly.

“See you later,” Vander replied, and it was like whatever was holding Silco in place suddenly came loose and he turned on his heel and almost ran for the stairs.

— — —

Silco spiraled for the entire trip to Lest's apartment. The walk to the bus, the short trip off campus, followed by another walk, all consumed by thoughts of Vander. He felt like some kind of schoolgirl stereotype, his heart racing and his face hot as he recalled the way Vander's eyes got brighter as he flirted. Silco had never noticed that before. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

And not only had Vander invited him out, but he hadn't backed down to Silco's attitude, matching his snapping with steady force. He was so utterly unruffled about all of this, all the time. Whatever this was. A bit of fun? Sure. Maybe some low maintenance acquaintances with benefits. Why not?

But Vander didn't feel like something light and low risk; no, he felt like an ancient Shurian obelisk, nearly big enough to blot out the sun. He felt monumental, high risk, almost guaranteed to ruin Silco's life for at least a little while. And still, Silco was considering giving into temptation. Like a fucking idiot.

He shook himself as he reached the entryway to Lest's apartment, around the side alley of Lest and Found. The last thing he needed to do was spend his free time thinking about Vander Oreson. He put the other man out of his mind and sent to quick text to Lest to let him in.

A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Lest in what Silco could only describe as an opulent dressing gown. The deep teal silk draped elegantly around her, cascading from her waist down the the floor. The sleeves were just as voluminous and trimmed with honest-to-gods feathers. "Silco, come in out of the cold. What took you so long?" Silco scowled at the reminder of his visit to Vander before leaving as she stepped aside to let him pass and quickly closed the door behind him again to shut out the winter chill.

"I got held up after work," he lied, pulling off his gloves and shoving them in his jacket pockets. He licked his lips and bit back Vander's name from the tip of his tongue; he didn't want to think about Vander anymore. Instead, he made a show of looking her up and down. "Janna, Lest, I feel underdressed."

"Ha ha." She rolled her eyes at him before leading him down a short hallway and up a set of stairs to her apartment. The long lines of her body managed to be both accentuated and hidden by the volume of her robe as they walked.

Much like her shop, Lest's apartment was decorated with an eclectic mix of objects, ranging in value, both sentimental and monetary. Her apartment felt uniquely her own in a way that Silco envied. She had the space and the means to curate her home in a way that Silco had never been able to experience for himself. He caught himself wondering if Vander would appreciate his friend's home and huffed, finally shrugging off his jacket.

"Sounds like someone is in a mood," Lest said, a mocking quality in her tone that would make Silco's hackles raise were she anyone else. He had long since realized that she simply spoke like she and the universe were in on a joke together. "Let's order some food and you can tell me all about it."

"I'll agree to the food," Silco said darkly.

Lest snorted and took his jacket to stow in the front closet. "Come now, tell me your woes. I'll roll us something to take the edge off."

The promise of good weed had him following her to the living room. The space was mostly dominated by a large, deep couch that Silco had every intention of enjoying to the fullest. Lest sat on one of the mismatched arm chairs and pulled a box from the side table into her lap. Even the box the used to store her various paraphernalia was beautiful, brass with carved filigree details and small clawed feet. Whatever she bought was pungent and smelled almost sweet, and it always gave Silco a pleasant high, making his bones feel liquid.

"It's just a frustrating first week," Sico said vaguely. He sat on the couch but perched forward, bracing his elbows on his knees to better watch her elegant fingers open the lid.

Lest hummed in response, looking between her different options for their joint. "That's annoying. I know you were looking forward to classes starting. Or rather, you were looking forward to quitting your job at The Lanes." Silco didn't think he'd complained about his crappy gig that much. He watched as she went through the process of rolling the joint, her fingers deft and pretty, unlike Silco's own; his knuckles were knobby, and he had a callus from writing on his middle finger.

"Yeah, I am looking forward to never having to spray shoes again. Not to mention it was humiliating enough when Felicia brought Connol and Vander in during my last shift. I don't think I'd survive an entire semester of being the bowling alley guy."

"What's that about Felicia?" Lest asked, taking a moment to light the joint. Silco scowled; he'd walked right into her trap.

"Felicia is meddling," Silco grumbled, taking the joint when Lest held it out to him. He took a long drag and let the heady smoke fill his lungs. Holding his breath for a moment gave him the excuse not to talk, so maybe he held it a little too long. He barely managed not to cough on his exhale. "Hence the frustrating week." The lovely thing about smoking pot was it's near immediate effect. Silco lived in a world of sharp edges, but everything felt a little softer as he took another hit.

"And was any of this frustration at all related to a tall, handsome boy?”

Silco clenched his jaw and stared at the smoldering joint in his fingers. “Maybe.” Lest looked far too pleased with herself at guessing correctly, but didn't say anything else. Silco managed to hold out for another moment before he caved. "He's just so—so—" Words failed him for a moment.

"Frustrating?" Lest offered with a purr. Silco groaned and flopped back against the couch cushions. Lest leaned over to pluck the joint out of Silco's fingers.

"I just can't tell what he's doing!" Silco said, scrubbing his hands across his face. "First, he comes to The Lanes and flirts with me nearly all night, and then leaves, only to come back to walk me home, and he tells me that he missed me. Then Felicia invites him to our first day of classes breakfast, only to find out that we're all in a class together! Because why not."

"And that's a problem? Weren't you in a class together last semester?"

Silco heaved an impressively put-out sigh. So much for not thinking about Vander. "I'm not high enough to explain all of this yet. And I'm hungry." Lest seemed to accept his stall tactic, her ears twitching at the mention of food.

"Okay. I'll order something. But I'm not letting this go," she warned, pointing a perfectly manicured claw at him before pulling out her phone.

"I'd never expect you to let it drop," Silco assured her with a sardonic grimace. She rolled her eyes and passed the joint back, while Silco settled in for the long haul.

— — —

Just over an hour later, Silco’s belly was full of good food, his mind eased of its worries by drugs, and he had officially lost track of what was happening in the hyper saturated reality show that Lest had put on soon after he'd finished giving her every detail of what she now referred to as "The Vander Situation". She'd been furious for a second, when she finally managed to get Silco to admit the reason he'd been late and that he had every intention of ignoring Vander's invitation.

She thought he was being an idiot. Problem was, Silco kind of agreed with her. At this point it was moot anyway; Silco was still too stoned to comfortably leave the apartment. He was also just too comfortable to move. The coffee table and floor around their feet was littered with the remains of their feast. Silco leaned back into Lest's couch, letting the eclectic throw pillows swallow him slowly like fuzzy quicksand. He didn't have a lot of interest in television, having grown up without, but he occasionally enjoyed letting his brain rest while drag queens fought for the crown.

"What would you do with the prize money?" Lest asked. Her voice had a soft purr that made Silco's neck tingle pleasantly.

Silco snorted. "Get a head start on my student loans."

It wasn't sexy, but Silco had always been more practically motivated. Lest gave him a dramatic eye roll for his honesty and passed over the joint they were sharing. While Silco wasn't a stranger to smoking pot, he didn't have consistent enough access to it to have any experience with spending the long hours between afternoon and evening stoned. He felt weirdly loose, but he only noticed how loose he felt when he realized that he was, in fact, thinking about the way his arms and legs and neck felt comfortably heavy, as if the air itself was a weighted blanket against him.

"Well, then what would you do?" he drawled after what was probably too long a pause. She laughed at him, the tufts of fur at the tips of her ears shaking in time with her shoulders. He tried to glare, but he wasn't convinced that his face was doing it right.

Lest stretched in a way that Silco could only describe as luxurious, her long tail twitching lazily between them on the couch. "I'd travel. Anywhere, everywhere. I'd eat decadent food, fuck beautiful people, and find cool new shit for my shop."

Silco hummed. Lest was good at making money sound sexy. Unfortunately, he wasnt capable of being so creative; university and law school were going to put him into debt for the rest of his life. He couldn't imagine having time to just fuck off and travel all over Runeterra.

They let the television fill the comfortable silence between them for a while, idly passing the joint back and forth, the smoke hanging like a hazy, fragrant cloud.

“So, you wanna tell me why you don’t just date Vander?” Lest asked, returning to the conversation Silco had thought ended when the episode started. He should have expected that she had filed The Vander Situation away with the intention of returning to it later. That didn’t mean the question caught him any less of guard.

"I told you why," Silco muttered.

He was avoiding the question as a pathetic stall for time and they both knew it, but why have the same conversation twice? He'd already said he had no intention of going to Jericho's. Lest, aghast, had asked why he hadn’t just said yes to Vander’s invitation, and Silco told her that he hadn’t wanted to abruptly abandon their plans. Lest had, of course, scoffed. Silco couldn't even be mad at her; he'd known all along that if the reason he was going to cancel on her was because he finally got his head out of his ass, she would have been more than fine with it.

She took a long drag of a fresh joint attached to her cigarette holder before passing it over to Silco. "Seriously, Silco, what's going on here?"

Taking it, he let the smoke wash through him, filling his lungs and making his mind fuzzy. Blowing a couple of smoke rings into the air above them, he considered her question more seriously than he would have sober—probably that was her intention from the beginning.

He hummed as the words and feelings got jumbled in his weed-addled brain. "It's too surreal,” he sighed after a moment. She quirked her ears at him and Silco huffed. When she took back the joint, she set it on an ashtray beside her, which was probably for the best; Silco was very aware of the fact that his eyes were closing without his permission. “He’s too…good,” he continued, pausing briefly to consider the right word. “Too shiny and perfect.” He smiled nervously at the hard look that she gave him. He had no poker face in his current state. He honestly didn't think her expression was very fair; she was the one that asked!

“What does that even mean? Too shiny and perfect?” The tip of her tail twitched warily. It felt like a warning.

Silco turned his grimace towards the television, where one very melodramatic drag queen was lamenting being safe in the competition. What a crock.

This was when Silco was supposed to brush her off or point out the fact that the heel of the season was trying to claim that she had made her outfit by herself…but the weed made him honest.

“He's just…” Silco licked his lips. “I’ve never had something new in my entire life. Everything I’ve had is second or third hand, already scuffed, dirty, or damaged, so what does it matter if I wreck it? But Vander…” He paused, running his tongue ring across the back of his teeth. It was like having a poor quality drum line in his own mouth. It kinda tickled.

“Silcooo,” Lest said in a sing song tone. She reached across the sofa and gently shook his arm, drawing him back to earth.

Right. He had been saying something. Something about Vander.

“He’s just—entirely out of my league. It’s embarrassing, honestly.” He tried to smile as he said it, to lighten, to deflect, but how does one smile when the truth is so ugly? The screen blurred together, creating a vibrant wash of color in Silco's vision. The haze of their extended smoke session was making his eyes burn a little.

Who would really expect Vander to sully his hands with Silco long term? Fuck. Now the weed was making him sad.

He squawked when a decorative pillow hit his face, the momentum sending him down to tuck himself against the back cuchions, covering his head. “Why?!”

“Silco Leach!” Lest cried. “You are being so! Fucking! Stupid!” She punctuated her words with additional smacks of the pillow, her voice raised to be heard over Silco’s shouted protests. She'd stood up at some point, using her height to her advantage. “That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Do you know how old I am? Do you know how much shit I've heard?”

“What? How high are you?” Silco yelped, finally catching the pillow and pulling it out of her grasp.

“Not as high as I should be to hear you spew that shit about yourself." She made a kind of frustrated gesture towards him. "‘Who would really expect Vander to sully his hands with you long term.’ I had no idea your self esteem was buried in the deepest mine in all of Zaun.” Her tail thrashed behind her as she scowled at him.

Silco’s cheeks burned. He hadn’t realised that he’d said that part out loud. He buried his face in the pillow now held between his hands. "Shut up," he whined, thankful for the barrier of the pillow against Lest’s piercing glare.

“You want to know who would expect Vander to like you? Me! I think you should expect that Vander is perfectly capable of knowing what he wants and who meets his personal standards. If he likes you, it’s for a damn good reason. I ought to chase you out of here right now so you can go and meet him at the bar like he asked.”

Silco's head spun at the thought of getting up; fuck, his whole body was spinning. Removing his face from its pillow prison helped, as did focusing his attention on Lest's face to ground himself. It wasn't fair that she looked so pretty when she frowned. He was pretty sure he was too fucked up to leave right now, but there was a gleam in Lest’s eye that said she was serious.

"What time is it?" Silco asked. He felt himself squint and chuckled. Squint was a funny word.

Lest checked her phone. "It's nine."

“Can we watch one more episode?” Silco asked plaintively. "I'm so stoned right now."

Lest frowned, but she relaxed back into her seat. “Fine. But as soon as the show is over, you are getting your cute butt out of here. I want to hear all about it the next time I see you.” Silco frowned; his butt wasn't cute.

It felt like a painfully short amount time before the show came to a conclusion and Lest was quickly helping Silco into his coat, making sure he was appropriately bundled up against the cold.

"Jeez, Lest, make a man feel welcome," Silco grumbled. She tutted at him and pulled out a scarf from her closet that definitely wasn't his.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I love you. Now go.”

A moment later, Silco found himself standing in the small alley behind her shop, scowling at bus schedules, certain that this was going to be a colossal mistake.

Chapter Text

The wind was cold as Silco walked the short distance from Lest’s apartment to the the bus stop that would take him back to campus, slicing through the heavy wool of his coat and the thick scarf Lest had wrapped around his neck before unceremoniously ushering him out the door. His breath clouded in the air as he muttered curses to himself, ducking into the small shelter at the bus stop.

A perfectly lovely evening just had to be ruined by his big mouth.

The bus shelter protected him from the wind, but it was still cold. The lingering buzz of his high helped insulate him against the chill, but he still folded his arms around himself, idly rubbing at his arms to keep himself warm. He could just make out the sight of heavy, dense clouds covering the sky overhead; it was likely to snow again. As he waited for the bus, his body began to lose its earlier heaviness as the winter air helped to further clear his head from the fog of intoxication. Unfortunately, that meant that he was becoming all the more aware of all the ways this could blow up in his face.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long before the bus arrived. The late hour and freezing temperature meant that Silco had the bus nearly to himself as he swiped his pass and slumped into the nearest seat. Within a minute, his layers started to feel oppressive. He was uncomfortably aware of the way his shirt collar rested against his neck, the fabric becoming slightly damp in the relative warmth. As the bus eased back into traffic, he pressed his forehead against the cool glass. He let his eyes go unfocused as he watched his breath fog against the window, the lights of the street and passing cars converging into a blurry golden halo.

Passengers filtered on and off at the handful of stops the bus made, but Silco paid them no mind. He closed his eyes at some point, letting his body relax as the bus rumbled along, jostling him gently as it bumped its way through the snowy streets. He was still high enough to enjoy the slightly floaty sensation. He probably should have been watching the stops go by so he didn't miss Jericho's but he knew roughly how many were left, give or take a couple.

He’d pay more attention when they got closer.

Silco waited another two stops before finally opening his eyes. They were a little more than half-way now.

It was almost ten o’clock when the bus pulled to a stop across the street from the bar. Silco almost lost his footing as he stepped down onto the icy sidewalk, careening forward and flailing for stability against the bus shelter as he was wrapped in a cloud of exhaust and snow flurries as the bus carried on down the road. He'd have to walk back to campus if he stayed too long.

"You're a fucking idiot," Silco muttered to himself.

He lingered at the bus shelter for a few minutes, considering whether he really wanted to go inside or not. On the one hand, he never actually agreed to meet Vander, so he could just pretend that none of this had happened and start the walk back to his dorm. If he let that scenario play out, however, he would have to tell Lest because she would definitely ask, and he didn't care to think too hard about how she would react. Maybe if he wasn't still a little stoned the threat of her disappointment wouldn't be so unappealing.

His head was still foggy from the pot, but with every passing minute he felt more and more clear. That was good; the drugs made him too honest, and he was afraid of what he might say around Vander in his condition. He huffed and glanced towards Jericho's. He really should just go home…but Lest had demanded details.

Maybe he would just have a quick cigarette first.

He dug down deep into his pocket for the crumpled package and his lighter. His fingers shook as he tried to flick the flint of the lighter, and it slipped from his fingers, skipping across the icy sidewalk and out into the street. A car passed, driving right over the lighter and leaving nothing but a mess of cracked plastic behind. With a frustrated sigh, Silco tucked his cigarette back into the package before shoving it back in his pocket.

With no more excuses available to him, Silco steeled himself, taking a deep breath of the icy winter air. He checked the street briefly before darting across it and heading for the door.

Jericho’s was a small pub located just off campus. It was popular with students due to is proximity, cheap drinks, and lax reputation, and thus was usually so crowded that you could barely hear yourself think, much less carry a conversation. Felicia had dragged him there a couple of times last year, but he’d thankfully been spared the experience last semester. Suffice it to say, it was not Silco’s preferred place to be, even under the best of circumstances. He could only hope that this early into the semester it wouldn't be too bad.

Outside the bar was a hulking figure resting on a stool by the door, his tall frame hunched over in the low alcove. His head was bald and he had deep set eyes hidden under a heavy brow. Geometric tattoos covered the lower half of his face and throat, disappearing down into the collar of his jacket. The meagre light was partially blocked by his broad shoulders, casting most of his features into shadow, making him look more severe and intimidating than he probably was. Silco handed over his ID to the man who glanced at it with bored disinterest before handing it back and opening the door for Silco to enter.

He immediately had regrets.

Inside it was bustling but not busy per se, but the music was still loud, and the air was nearly boiling compared to the frigid temperature outside. Silco had a clear view of Vander at a pool table with Benzo as he entered, the two rugby players grinning and laughing as they moved around the table, Vander leaning over it as he lined up his shot. The crack of one ball against another was clear from across the room, even over the too-loud music, and Vander stood up with a triumphant grin on his face, slapping Benzo on the shoulder as they traded places. He looked good, hair tousled and face pink from the combination of central heating and whatever he was drinking.

Silco probably looked like a fucking disaster. His hair was probably frizzy and his face was definitely the kind of blotchy red that came with the cold. He debated the merits of going to the bathroom first to check that he didn't look horrible, but then again why did he care? This wasn't a date! They weren't anything. There was no reason why Silco needed to be concerned about his appearance.

Silco scowled as he wove his way towards the bar, still half-hoping that Vander wouldn't notice him. Against his better judgement, he unwrapped the scarf until it was hanging loose on his shoulders and undid the buttons on his coat. He still wasn't sure if he should act like he was staying, which was absurd; Vander had invited him.

He'd just neglected to mention that he'd already have company.

"What'll you have?" asked the bartender as Silco slid into one of the scarred wooden bar stools.

The question drew him up short. It probably wouldn’t do him good to get cross faded, but the following day was a free day, so he’d have time to sober up without worrying about needing to be anywhere. Plus, he wasn't truly stoned anymore, so Silco was desperate for some kind of liquid courage. "Gin and tonic," Silco replied.

The bartender nodded and began to turn away at the same moment the hair on the back of Silco's neck began to prickle and he froze, like some kind of prey animal might to avoid provoking attack from a nearby predator. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Vander's eye briefly, his insides twisting at the way Vander's smug grin in Benzo's direction melted into something kind of soft. Like he was excited to see Silco there.

"Make it a double," he added quickly, before the bartender had fully stepped away.

This was crazy. He was acting crazy.

“Silco, hey,” Vander said behind him a few seconds later, loud enough to be heard over the din of music, voices, and other ambient sounds of the bar. Silco couldn’t help the way he jumped; he hadn’t even heard Vander approaching. He turned to lean against the edge of the counter, looking up at the rugby player as he leaned against his pool cue. He was the very image of potential heartbreak, and Silco was doomed. “I wasn't sure you’d come.”

Silco wanted to say that he wasn’t going to, that he was only there because he’d been forced to come, but he got distracted by the way Vander’s hair was slightly damp with sweat at the temples, the way the low light of the bar made his blue-grey eyes almost glow. Were his eyelashes always that long? Under normal circumstances, having Vander's exclusive attention on him was bad enough, but having it in the midst of a crowded room, something about it made him go warm and almost a bit smug. Out of everyone here, Vander was excited to see him. Vander's attention used to feel like an intrusion, an inconvenience. When had that changed?

“Well, it's like you said, small campus.” Silco sent up a quick thanks to whatever gods might have been listening that his voice came out even.

“Yeah, I did,” Vander said, offering that same boyish grin he’d given when Silco had approached him in the library earlier that afternoon. It fed the beast living behind Silco's ribs, the greedy part of him that would never be satisfied. “You should come join me and Benzo for some pool when you’ve got your drink.”

Silco’s lips pinched into a frown before he could stop them, his guard coming back up as he glanced over Vander's shoulder. Benzo was watching them from where he was waiting at the pool table. His unimpressed expression very clearly said that the last thing he wanted was Silco's company.

“I'm not sure Benzo would agree,” Silco said, dragging his eyes back to Vander. His mouth felt dry and he licked his lips. He didn’t miss the way Vander’s eyes dropped to his mouth to follow the motion. Fuck. He needed to keep it together, it was bad enough when he’d thought he was just meeting up with Vander, but having a hostile audience set his teeth on edge. “I don’t want to get in the way of your night.”

“It’ll be fine,” Vander reassured, as if banishing the very idea that anything could go wrong. He reached out and gave Silco’s shoulder a squeeze, his finger brushing against the sliver of skin exposed under Silco's scarf. Silco was ready to tell him that no, it really wouldn't be, when the bartender came back with his drink.

“Gin and tonic,” the bartender said, setting a glass on the counter. Silco turned and reached for his wallet. "Wanna start a tab?"

"You can put it on mine," Vander said quickly, before Silco could decline. Damnit. "Last name is Oreson."

"You don't have to—" Silco tried, mentally scrambling for some kind of control here, all the while swallowing down the unwieldy monster is his chest preening at the very implication that he and Vander were a set somehow.

"I invited you out, didn't I? I'll let you get the next one."

The next one set off a new round of firelights in Silco's stomach. He considered arguing for a moment, but then simply rolled his eyes at the way Vander raised his brows in a silent challenge.

“I really was close, wasn’t I,” Vander commented with a soft laugh as Silco put away his wallet.

“Hm?” Silco said as he took a fortifying sip from the glass. The drink was strong enough to make him wince a bit, but it was cold and it eased the dryness that was trying to stick his mouth together.

“When I made you a drink that day at the clubhouse. I almost got it on the first try.”

Silco rolled his eyes again, unable to stop himself. “Don’t sound so smug,” he replied, taking another sip from his cup. 

Without any kind of excuse to further delay the inevitable, Silco followed Vander back towards the pool table where Benzo was waiting, hanging back a bit as Vander clapped Benzo on the shoulder.

“Do you mind if Silco joins us?” Vander asked, utterly oblivious. Even with his lingering buzz left over from Lest's apartment, he could see that he wasn't welcome.

“Do I have a choice?” Benzo replied flatly. Silco kept still, tamping down any sharp words for Vander's sake. “It’s your shot.”

As Vander circled the table to line up his shot, Silco claimed a seat on a nearby stool and shed his jacket, taking another large sip of his drink. At this rate he was going to need another one soon. He glanced at Benzo, who was glowering at him over the rim of his pint glass. Obviously it wasn’t, as Vander had assured him, fine.

Why Benzo obviously disliked him was anyone's guess; Silco couldn't recall saying more than a handful of words to Benzo, ever. He took another sip of his drink, shifting his focus instead to Vander as he bent over the table, moving the pool cue back and forth quickly before there was the crack of one ball against the other. He pumped his fist and made a small ‘ha’ sound as he sunk his target ball into a pocket. 

Vander really had no right to look so attractive as he did it, his shirt pulling against the bulk of his back, his waist, teasing Silco with their very existence. Vander kept his eyes on the table as he moved around it, bending once more to send the balls scattering. Did he usually worry his bottom lip when he was thinking, and Silco had never noticed? This time the ball bounced off the edge of the pocket and he made a quiet sound of disappointment. His bottom lip was red as he turned towards Silco.

“You’re up!” Vander called to Benzo as he moved to Silco's table. While his back was turned, Silco was able to see how his friend's face shifted, so clearly upset that Silco couldn't imagine how Vander wasn't seeing it.

Silco knew that Vander wouldn't stay oblivious forever. One day, probably sooner rather than later, Vander would feel the need to make a choice, and Silco knew how that would go. That was why he shouldn't have come out; a firm, concrete reason that he could grab hold of and use to shore up his resolve. He kept that in mind as Vander leaned on his table, getting close enough that Silco could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“I don’t think Benzo appreciates me interrupting,” Silco tried again before Vander could say anything. He didn't want to be an ass about it, but his patience was starting to wear thin considering that he hadn't truly planned on navigating turbulent social dynamics.

“Nah, he’s fine,” Vander replied dismissively. “He’s still a little sore about how the season ended, but he’ll get past it.”

Silco looked at Vander's guileless expression with a sinking feeling. Was that really what Vander thought? Was he being purposefully ignorant? To what end? Silco itched to poke holes in his argument and opened his mouth to do just that when Benzo interrupted.

“Vander,” Benzo called, tone terse. “Your turn.”

"Yeah, one sec," Vander called back.

Silco downed his drink in one go. "Go play," he said with badly forced casualness. "I might get another drink." Vander looked like he wanted to argue, but he finally relented when Silco waved him off.

As Vander returned to the pool table, Benzo grabbed his upper arm and said something that Silco didn't need to hear; he could tell it was about him with the way Benzo was glaring daggers at him over Vander’s shoulder. Vander glanced back at Silco as he replied, his jaw tight and his brows drawing low. He was more upset than Silco could remember seeing him before, but at whom? Silco got his answer a moment later when Vander returned his attention to Benzo and said something, shoulders stubbornly pushed back, no trace of the relaxed, boyish attitude from hours ago in sight. Funny how much you could learn about a person's tells in such a short amount of time. Silco felt his stomach drop as he reached the inevitable conclusion that no amount of alcohol was going to make this better for anyone.

Fine. Time for an exit strategy.

If he was going to do this, he needed to be smart about it. He stood up, calling Vander's attention by waving his glass and glancing towards the bar. Vander nodded and went back to looking at the pool table. The line of his shoulders was still tense from whatever words he and Benzo had exchanged. Silco told himself that he didn't feel bad about doing this as he slid his coat off the table as subtly as possible.

The bar had somehow become more crowded in the short time since Silco's arrival, so he felt relatively confident that he could slip out unnoticed. He made his way towards the bar, allowing himself to be swallowed up by the small crowd there. He waited until he was at the far end of the bar, next to the entrance, to pull on his coat. He would leave, ghost Vander for a while, and try to put all of this nonsense behind them. It would be easier, in the long run.

This was good. This was the right decision.

A sickly sense of déjà vu washed over him. He'd thought the same thing after their second hook up last semester, except now he would have to face Vander in Earth Sciences on Monday, and Felicia would really never let him hear the end of it. He knew he should go, so why were his feet suddenly rooted to the floor? The longer he stood there like a fucking idiot, the more likely Vander was to notice him.

Silco cursed as someone jostled him, but it was enough to kickstart him back to moving, and as he finished buttoning his jacket, he hung a left and made his way towards the door.

It had started to snow since he arrived and the sidewalk was slippery as the fresh snow settled over the existing icy patches and hid them. He cursed while wrapping his scarf to cover his jaw and made to walk closer to the building in the little clear path under the overhanging roof. As he rounded the corner heading back towards campus, he crashed into someone else taking advantage of the cleared sidewalk from the opposite direction. The force of their collision had them both losing their footing, and they grabbed at each other’s arms for stability.

Once he was sure he wasn’t about to fall on his ass, Silco looked up into the face of none other than Marcus Hii, who to his credit seemed just as surprised to see Silco.

“Marcus!” Silco said, unable to hide his surprise. They quickly release one another, taking a half step back. Their paths didn't have much reason to cross outside of their occasional hookups, and seeing a sneering kind of recognition slowly form on Marcus's face made Silco spiral between mortification and rage. Who the fuck was Marcus to come out the same night Silco decided to make horrible decisions? The two of them hadn’t seen each other since that fated day at the end of the semester when Vander had put his fist in Marcus’ face and now he just happened to show up here? Silco didn’t believe in fate, but it sure seemed like the universe was testing him.

“Leach,” Marcus acknowledged with a sneer. He brushed off his sleeves like Silco had left behind a stain. Motherfucker.

Silco couldn’t say it was good to see him.

Silco had only ever been able to process half of what had happened last semester. One random day, Marcus was blowing up his phone, making vague threats about Vander that Silco hadn’t had the context to understand. Then Vander showed up, admitting that he'd committed a crime in Silco's defense. Before he could even have considered processing that, it was finals, and there was a span of about ten hours that Silco did not remember due to sleep deprivation, so suffice it to say he was a little too busy to process all of that. Then Vander showed up and took care of him, and then the morning after happened, and Silco didn't have time to process that, much less Vander assaulting someone for Silco. All because Marcus had said—

“You know, I never did find out what it was you said that made Vander hit you,” Silco said before he thought better of it. He didn’t even realise it mattered to him until the words were already leaving his mouth.

Marcus froze for a second before he smiled meanly, his thin lips pulling back to reveal the blunt cut of his teeth. “What, Oreson didn’t tell you? I'm surprised he didn't try to play the knight in shining armor. Then again, it's not like you'd give him the time of day, would you?” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest, trying to make himself look bigger and more important than he actually was.

Gods, Silco was such an idiot for wasting time with him.

“I was telling him about our last hook up,” he said with a greasy chuckle. “Told him I was surprised how hard a time he was having locking you down given how desperate you usually are.”

Any lingering effects of Silco’s high and his more recent drink burned away as anger clawed up the back of his neck. Marcus, oblivious as always to the way his stupid mouth was about to get him into trouble, continued with a shrug.

“I told him he wasn’t missing out on much. You’re not even that good of a lay.”

As a rule, Silco didn't fight his battles with his fists; his words were usually sharp enough to wound without him having to raise a finger, so Silco’s fist connecting with Marcus’ face surprised them both. It wasn’t a hard enough hit to do much damage, but the surprise of it put Marcus off balance and he slipped, falling hard onto his ass into the snow. Silco shook out his hand, red hot fury still making it hard to see straight.

“What the fuck, Leach!?” Marcus howled. His hands covered his nose, but Silco was satisfied to see a drop of blood trickling down his chin.

“You were the one who called me that night,” Silco reminded him, using every inch of his height to his advantage as he looked over Marcus and his stupid face. “You hit on me the first time we hooked up. You want to change the story now that you fucked around and found out? Fine. Being pathetic is your business. But don't be surprised when someone hits you for trying—and failing—to live your best fuckboy fantasy." Silco's lungs were on fire from the frigid night air, but the stunned expression on Marcus' idiotic face made every stinging breath worth it. "And for the record, Vander wasn’t having a hard time with anything.”

Marcus’ wide eyes grew impossibly wider, his brows shooting up. When he finally moved his hands away from his face, his mouth was bloody. Silco had split his lip. “Holy shit,” Marcus said in disbelief. Silco held his breath as he watched Marcus laugh, his adrenaline surge quickly leaving him chilled and off guard. “Holy shit, Leach. You like him, don’t you?”

“What? No!” Silco protested. When had he—

“You do! You actually like him! Oh, this is adorable. Precious, even!" Marcus wrapped an arm over his stomach as he continued to guffaw, uncaring that he was still sat in a snowbank. "Did he play the knight to your damsel in distress? How quickly did you bend right over for that chivalrous routine?" Sarcasm and derision dripped from his words.

Silco’s jaw tightened. He felt sick. Were his feelings about Vander so obvious that even someone like Marcus could see it?

“Does Oreson even know? I bet he doesn’t,” Marcus continued when his laughter began to ease, unaware of the way he’d stirred up Silco’s already tumultuous feelings. “You two absolutely deserve each other.”

“Fuck you, Marcus,” Silco spat. He was tempted to kick him. Swing his foot hard between his spread legs. Instead he pushed Marcus’ shoulder with his foot, sending him sprawling back onto the ground and marched past him down the sidewalk. “Oh, and by the way,” Silco called over his shoulder, “lose my number, too.”

+ + +

Vander felt itchy as he put more chalk on the end of his pool cue. Silco had said he was going for another drink, but that felt like a while ago, and there was still no sign of him. The bar had gotten busier since he’d arrived, but it still shouldn’t take this long to get another gin and tonic. He scanned the room again, looking for Silco's sharp features. He was starting to feel kind of insane when he still couldn't find Silco in the crowd; the bar wasn't that fucking big and the pool table took up the majority of the space in the center of the room. Maybe he got caught in a conversation with someone? Or maybe he was in the bathroom.

"Vander! Pay attention, man!" Benzo snapped, giving his shoulder a firm shake that brought his focus back to their game. Benzo took a long gulp of his drink before sneering. "Janna's tits, Van. We're almost done, then you can go make cow eyes at Leach."

"Fuck off, man," Vander said with a forced chuckle, though he didn't bother denying it. He finally put the chalk down, grimacing when he realized just how much was on his hands. Whoops. "Do you feel like it's been a while?"

"Since your turn started? Yeah." Benzo gestured to the game that Vander was only half paying attention to. "Any day now would be nice."

"No, seriously. Silco should be back by now. It's not that busy in here." Flashes from the night in Piltover ran rampant in Vander's head as he craned his neck to try and look across the room. He thought he could see Silco's dark hair by the bar.

"Oh, no, that would be terrible,” Benzo said flippantly. Vander shot him a dark look, but Benzo only shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe he left.”

Vander’s stomach dropped. Why would he leave? “You think?”

Benzo sighed. “I don’t know, Vander. And I honestly don’t really care, either. Can you please just take your shot already? I’m ready to get out of here.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Vander asked, his annoyance at Benzo’s mood finally getting the best of him. He'd invited Benzo out for some pool, figuring that they could spend some time together after last semester. If Silco showed up, then maybe they could find some common ground.

Benzo tossed his pool cue onto the table, sending the remaining balls scattering. So much for their game. “I don’t have a problem,” he said, stalking over to their table and downing the rest of his beer.

Vander scoffed and followed his friend, keeping his voice at a reasonable level. “Could have fooled me. You’ve been a real asshole ever since Silco showed up.”

That got Benzo’s attention.

He whirled around until he was right in Vander’s face, giving his chest a shove hard enough to force Vander back a pace. The people at the closest table swiveled from their conversation to watch as Benzo hissed, “Oh, excuse me. I thought that it was you and me hanging out tonight. I didn’t realise I was third-wheeling your fucking date.”

Vander felt anger and confusion roil in his gut as he closed the distance between them. He didn't get why the fuck Benzo was trying to make a scene, but he wasn't about to make it worse. “It wasn’t a date, man. Chill.”

“Sure seemed like it,” Benzo spat. “You basically forgot I was here after Silco showed up.” He let out a frustrated breath and turned back towards the pool table, using his hand to sweep the remaining balls into the pockets. Vander felt some of the tension drain out of his neck and shoulders as soon as Benzo got out of his face. “I dunno why I'm fucking surprised. Between you and Connol, we never just hang out anymore. There’s always someone else around.”

Vander pulled up short, thrown by how bitter his friend sounded. “What? What’s wrong with Felicia?”

“Nothing!” Benzo shouted, drawing looks from other patrons at tables nearby. “That’s the problem!” he continued, lowering his voice. “There’s nothing wrong with her. But she’s always there.”

"Hey, guys, everything alright over here?" Vander grimaced as one of the bartenders came over to the table, clearly trying to see what the ruckus was about.

"Yeah, yeah. We're headed out." They gathered their coats and headed over to the bar to settle up their tab. Vander frowned as he only saw one extra drink on his. Double gin and tonic. So, what, Silco had just left? Without saying anything?

Except Silco had said something. Multiple times. And Vander had brushed him off like an asshole. Seemed like he hadn't considered Benzo's or Silco's feelings. He swallowed down the sour taste of shame that was rising in the back of his throat.

Fuck.

He waited until they got outside to say anything. "Listen, Benny," Vander tried, "I'm sorry. I guess I didn't realize that we hadn't hung out, just the guys, in a while." Vander nudged Benzo's shoulder, letting out a small sigh of relief when Benzo bumped him back.

"Whatever. I kinda freaked out," Benzo admitted. He sounded more tired than Vander could remember hearing him.

"Maybe, but…I could have handled that better. Or, or let you know. Or asked you if you were okay with Silco joining us!" He added quickly when Benzo leveled a steely glare in his direction, throwing his hands up in surrender; his friend was impressively chilly, especially considering the weather.

Finally, Benzo sighed again, his breath clouding their way back towards ther dorm. "It's fine," he grumbled. "C'mon, it’s cold as shit out here."

Vander let it drop, for now. He wanted to text Silco and apologize. He wanted to keep prodding at Benzo until things felt resolved between them. But he knew from experience that prodding often made things worse.

— — —

Their Earth Science class on Monday wasn’t until eleven, but Vander was up early anyway for a rugby meeting. He’d snoozed his alarm a few times before Benzo had finally thrown a balled up pair of socks at him, telling him to get his ass in gear before Coach Merrick tore them new assholes for being late.

He thought about Silco as he went through the motions of getting ready for the day. He had spent most of yesterday opening and closing his messages with Silco, typing out half a dozen things and then deleting them. He wanted to apologise for Benzo. But more than that, he wanted to apologise for himself. After his conversation with Benzo about making him an unwilling third wheel, he realised that he’d fucked up and that both his friend and Silco deserved better.

Vander had even briefly considered going to Silco’s dorm, just like he had at the end of the semester, hopeful that Silco might let him in just as easily as he had then. Silco had been exhausted from studying from finals at the time, and letting Vander in had been easier than trying to fight or make other excuses.

It felt like Silco was more receptive to him after the break. The way he'd let Vander walk him back from The Lanes; the way he’d stopped by the table when Vander was studying; his not outright refusal of Vander's date invitation. Hells, even just the fact that he had shown up spoke volumes. Yet it felt like every time he took one step forward with Silco they also took two steps back.

Marathon, not a sprint, Vander reminded himself as he pulled a hoodie over his head, hair still damp from the quick shower he'd managed to squeeze into his routine. He just couldn't help but wish they'd be moving at the same pace for a little while. He wanted them to be on even footing.

He and Benzo made their way over to the clubhouse for the meeting, the fresh snow that had fallen the night before crunching beneath their feet. Vander almost immediately regretted his shower when his hair started to stiffen in the cold. He probably could have done with a few more layers but he hated carting around extra shit when he was going to be inside for most of the day. Their breath curled in dense clouds around them as they treked across the campus. They walked for a few minutes in comfortable quiet before Vander decided it was as good a moment as any to bring up their argument from the other night.

He’d tried to do yesterday while they were doing conditioning in the gym, but Benzo had conveniently made himself hard to pin down, not exactly brushing Vander off, but not making it easy for Vander to get him alone, either. Not that talking about the situation in front of their teammates was the ideal place to discuss it anyway.

"So, we should do something this week. You, me, and Connol. Guys night!" Vander considered the small smirk that accompanied Benzo's eye roll a win.

"It's not that deep, man. I told you, I didn't need to freak out like that."

Vander frowned. "I mean, I was a dickhead, to both you and Silco. But I'm serious, I didn't realize that we hadn't hung out since…Janna I don't remember." Guilt fed the small pit in his gut as he realized just how long his best friend had been keeping his mouth shut about this.

"Okay, okay, we'll hang out. Seriously, Van, it's good. Stop being a worry wart. You're worse than my grandma," Benzo laughed, knocking his shoulder into Vander's. Vander gave him a light shove back before they kept walking towards the clubhouse.

"Hey, maybe we should find you someone. So you're not the odd man out all the time." That was actually an amazing idea. Benzo was great, he deserved to have someone to feel stupid about instead of watching his friends be idiots.

Benzo's responding scoff sounded strange, off in a way that Vander couldn't describe. "Yeah. Maybe.

"Yeah," Vander said, jostling him again. "It's the off season, so we have plenty of time to find you a nice gal—or guy, whatever—before you have absolutely no free time whatsoever."

"Why can't you guys just stop being idiots?" Benzo asked with a laugh that sounded forced. Vander furrowed his brow. He'd called them idiots first, but Benzo's tone was pointed.

“Come on, Benz,” Vander said, maybe a little exasperated because he was aware of how stupid Silco made him, but also what else was he supposed to do? Just be normal? He was only human. “You know what it’s like when you like someone, right? You always want them around. Or, yknow, if they're not around you're thinking about them. You're really going to tell me that you've never done something stupid because you liked someone."

“No, actually,” Benzo said so sharply that Vander’s head snapped up in surprise. He stopped walking as his brain tried to process just how they got back to Benzo being upset again.

He shook himself and jogged to catch up to where Benzo was continuing his march towards the clubhouse. “Wait, Benzo, Benny. What d'you mean? No, what?” Benzo refused to look at him, his face red from maybe more than just the cold. Vander grabbed his friend's elbow, pulling him to a stop.

Benzo sighed. “I don’t know what it’s like.”

“What do you mean?” Vander said with an incredulous laugh. “Everyone knows what it's like! It's a universal truth that men will be idiots in the face of the person they're attracted to.” Vander couldn't even count how many truly fucking stupid things he'd done for crushes back in high school. He was a bit of a romantic, sue him. Benzo nodded in that kind of resigned way he had when something has gone just how he expected. Vander immediately sobered. "Hey. Talk to me."

Benzo slowed to a stop and sighed. His voice, when he finally spoke again was quiet, almost a whisper. “I’ve never…felt that way…about anyone before.”

“Never?” Vander couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice as he gaped momentarily at his friend. Now that he was thinking about it, Benzo never really dated. He'd hook up with people—girls, Vander was pretty sure, though now that Vander was thinking about it, it had been a while—but he didn't ever talk about anyone like a crush or a girlfriend. Vander had never given much thought before.

Benzo’s jaw jutted out and he gave Vander a sideways glance, shaking his head. “Never,” he answered. Vander had never seen him look so deflated. “And, before you say anything, it's not—Not for a lack of trying,” he added bitterly.

Vander didn't know what to say, and the pair stood awkwardly in the middle of the path. "Oh."

"Yeah," Benzo said flatly. He started walking again and Vander fell into step beside him. Neither man spoke for a while.

“I'm sorry that I made you feel like a third wheel,” Vander said eventually. "You shouldn't have to feel like…I dunno. I'll make sure that the next time we hang out it's just you and me.”

Benzo gave him a tight smile and knocked their shoulders one last time.

Up ahead they could see Sevika and Connol crossing the rugby pitch in the opposite direction, and Connol threw up a hand in greeting as they met closer to the door.

The clubhouse was suffocatingly warm compared to the outside cold and Vander felt overdressed as he fell into a chair next to Connol and Benzo. The small space heater was working overtime, humming loudly in the corner behind them.

"All right, all right, settle down,” Coach Merrick called as everyone found a seat. “I know we’ve all got other places to be, so let’s get to it,” Merrick continued. “We had an okay record last season coming in at 9-7. But we could definitely do better. That was barely enough for us to make it to playoffs.”

He went on to talk about their performance at practice, dedication to playing, and what they needed to do better for the next season. It was normal for them to focus on their conditioning in the off season so they didn’t get complacent, and Coach Merrick reminded them of the fact, reenforcing that at least two hours a week in the gym was the expected minimum.

A few of their players would be graduating at the end of the semester which meant they would have some rookie players come the fall, which also meant a new dynamic on the team as everyone learned how to work with each other.

“I’d like for a few of you to volunteer as mentors for the new players. Show them the ropes and work closely with them so they better develop their skills. Oreson. Emerson. Shale. I think the three of you should consider taking this on. You’ll be veteran players next year and you’ll have another year on the team before you graduate.”

Benzo crossed his arms and slunk down in his seat next to Vander. There was a look of unmistakable disappointment on his face as Coach Merrick continued on.

“Finally,” Merrick said, “I want you all to be on your best behaviour. We can’t afford to lose anyone from the team for any reason, so you need to keep your noses clean. That means staying on top of your grades and also not getting in trouble with the administration.”

It was Vander’s turn to sink down in his seat. There was no mistaking that Merrick was singling him out specifically after what had happened just before playoffs. He didn’t regret hitting Marcus—the guy deserved it for the shit he was saying about Silco, and more—but what he wouldn’t give to not have this black mark on his record.

Soon enough, Coach Merrick was winding down and everyone was collecting themselves to head off to wherever they needed to go that morning. It was a little after ten, and if Vander left now he could get to Earth Sciences early enough to debrief about the meeting with Connol.

“Oreson,” Merrick called as Vander shouldered his bag. “Hang back a minute, will you.”

Vander hesitated. “I’ve got a class, coach. Don’t wanna be late.”

“This won’t take long,” Coach Merrick replied.

Vander knew better than to believe him. He was surprised that the meeting had been as short as it was. Coach Merrick wasn’t known for being particularly short on words, and he was prone to a tangent or three.

“Want me to wait for you?” Connol asked where he waited by the door.

“No. Go ahead. I’ll see you in class.” He shifted his bag on his shoulder, and turned his attention back to his coach. “What’s up?”

“About this academic probation…”

Vander was quick to cut him off. “Look, coach, I’m sorry. I know it was stupid. And I wish it never happened.”

Merrick held up a hand to stop him and Vander’s words trailed off. “The past is the past. I understand you were defending your friend against some slanderous statements, and that’s admirable. And I appreciate that you’re sorry. However…”

As expected, the conversation with Coach Merrick ran long, and by the time he was finally released he was on the verge of being late for class. His Earth Sciences class was clear on the other side of campus, and the snow and ice outside were effective at slowing him down. Even running at a dead sprint up the stairs and the last bit of distance down the hall did him no good as he arrived outside the classroom almost fifteen minutes late. He took a few seconds to get his breathing under control, sweat cooling on his temple, before he opened the door as quietly as he could and slipped inside.

Their professor frowned at his late entrance but didn't stop the lecture to reprimand him for his tardiness, for which Vander was thankful. He didn’t need to have a spotlight on him for the second time this morning.

Connol had saved his usual seat, but Vander didn't want to draw more attention to himself as he awkwardly moved behind everyone and instead took the only other available seat in the row, which just happened to be next to Silco.

Their knees bumped together as he settled into the small desk and his heart jumped at even that fleeting contact. How was it possible that Banzo had never felt like this before? Hadn't ever felt the dry mouth anticipation of talking to his crush? The tumultuous buzz of firelights in his stomach at just the sight of them? For a brief moment, Vander imagined that life must be so much simpler without having to worry about crushes…except Benzo had seemed pretty torn up about it.

He tried to keep his attention on the lecture but his eyes and mind refused to cooperate, drifting towards Silco next to him. Half way through class, he carefully tore a sheet of paper from his notebook, scribbling a short message. He folded it and slipped it beneath the corner of Silco’s open text book.

He could see the look Silco shot him, and the careful way his fingers took the paper, opening it just enough to read, before he was shooting him another look. Vander offered a small smile. He hoped it was enough to repair the damage for now until they could talk about it properly.

+ + +

Vander looked harried and flustered when he arrived to class late on Monday morning. Silco’s eyes had snapped to the door as soon as it began to open, wondering where the rugby player was. Without a word Vander had slid into the seat next to Silco, rather than take his usual spot at the end of the row next to Connol. His breath caught in his throat when Vander’s knee bumped his as he got comfortable. The hair at Vander’s temple was damp with sweat, and Silco involuntarily took a deep breath, trying to capture the scent of it, his fingers tightening around his pen as it wafted around him. He hoped it wasn’t obvious.

Whatever attention he’d been paying to the lecture evaporated now that Vander was both present in class and sitting next to him.

Silco had felt guilty when he’d gotten back to his room on Saturday night, half tempted to send Vander a quick text message with some half-assed excuse for his abrupt departure. In the end he’d chickened out, not prepared to deal with everything, and still reeling from Marcus so cavalierly calling out Silco’s feelings for Vander.

'Why don’t you just date Vander?'

Lest’s words echoed in his brain.

The truth was that Silco was afraid that he liked Vander too much. That if he gave in to what he wanted, it would be like sand slipping through a fist held too tightly; the disappointment would be inevitable.

Movement next to him caught his attention once more, and he watched as Vander slipped a folded piece of paper under the corner of his textbook. Silco glanced over at him, questioning, before carefully taking the paper and unfolding it just enough to read. Vander’s hand writing was unexpectedly beautiful. On the lined page he’d written:

Sorry for the other night. Next time it’ll just be me and you.

Next time, Silco thought as he read the words again and again. He could feel Vander looking at him, and he glanced over at him again, catching the small smile Vander offered, which made Silco’s heart skip a beat.

This stupid, wonderful, beautiful boy.

Silco didn't absorb a single scrap of the professor's lecture over the course of the next forty-five minutes. How could he pay attention to the material when he could feel heat radiating off of Vander's body? They were a perfectly reasonable distance apart, but Silco felt like every cell in his body was attuned to each small move Vander made.

So, Silco learnt fuck all about igneous rock formations, but he discovered that Vander stuck his tongue out the slightest amount when he was squinting down at his notes. He didn't seem to have any issues reading the presentation. Was he far-sighted? Should he be using reading glasses? Silco felt a pulse of heat like a stab in the gut as the image of Vander with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of his nose appeared in his mind. He shifted in his seat, ignoring the way Vander glanced over at him.

This was ridiculous. He was wasting his time, his education because he couldn't stop thinking about a boy? Seriously? He was such a cliche. Swooning over the thought of Vander studying at Silco's table in the library, wearing that shirt he bought at Lest's and reading glasses. Smiling up at Silco and looking over the top rim of the metal frames. Silco would never be able to resist that. He'd probably have to kiss Vander right there, in front of the gods and everybody. And Vander would keep the kiss so innocent at first, teasing. The bastard. He'd wait until Silco huffed and then he would use those slutty glasses to push back his hair and then kiss Silco like a man starved, one of his huge hands wrapping around Silco's jaw and just holding him in place.

They wouldn't fuck at the library, obviously. Probably. Most likely definitely wouldn't. Silco would be sensible and suggest that they go back to his dorm, and Vander would just smirk and pack up his things. And it probably wasn't completely illogical to imagine Vander snaking his arm over Silco's shoulder as they left. Or maybe holding his hand. It was embarrassing to even consider. Pathetic, really. But maybe…no one needed to know just how much his heart raced at the thought of being seen with Vander. Of it being understood—but not required, obviously—that they came as a package deal. That Silco might be sardonic, and difficult, and rude, and a hundred other different little things that seemed to drive people away from himself, but Vander wanted him around.

The movement of his classmates around him as they shuffled papers and began to pack their bags announced that it was the end of class. The sharp jab of Felicia’s elbow into his ribs yanked Silco from his fantasy, causing him to flinch badly. Holy hells. There was no way that Silco just spent the lecture thinking about, what, holding hands? Vander not being able to wait and pressing into Silco's space as he swiped his ID. Kissing his temple, his cheek, finally his neck until Silco was squirming—

"You okay there, champ?" Felicia asked. Silco managed to contain his flinch this time, just barely. Fucking imbecile. Felicia was already packed up and standing, giving him a concerned look. He couldn't even imagine what his face was doing just then. He felt uncomfortably aware of his own cheeks and the way that Vander hadn't started gathering his things yet.

"Yeah. Good, just tired. I think." Silco kept his eyes on his desk as he collected his notebook—not a note to be found, he’d have to borrow Felicia’s notes later—and the other odds and ends he didn't remember taking out in the first place. He felt Felicia watching him, waiting him out until he just spilled what was going on, but he refused to break. Not with an audience. He didn't care if she thought they were all besties now, he wasn't about to spill his guts in front of Connol and Vander.

Someone—Vander, Silco was hyper aware of that fact—coughed a little in the lingering silence that followed his obvious lie. Silco wanted to sink into the crust of the earth. Or throw himself into the most poisoned depths of the Pilt. Silco thought about that instead of how he wanted things he could not have and Vander finally started getting ready to leave.

"Alrighty then," Felicia said, drawing out 'alrighty' in a way that made Silco's skin crawl. "Babe, walk with me to my next class?" Silco waited until he saw Felicia and Connol move through his periphery, only to look up and see Vander standing there, his hands casually hooked onto the straps of his bag. Silco blinked up at him.

"Did you…need something?" Silco asked slowly.

Vander didn't say anything for a second, instead he just stood there looking adorably serious. Silco couldn't fathom how he managed to smile so wryly, like he knew he was pushing his luck but felt like the risk of Silco's ire would be worth it. His heart raced as he noticed that the lecture hall was practically empty.

Vander scratched his nose. Silco did not find this endearing. "Yeah, I know I already gave you the note, but—I wanted to say sorry. About Saturday. I didn't think about how I definitely implied that I was inviting you out one-on-one and how bringing Benzo with me just in case was kind of a dick move." He offered Silco an apologetic smile, and fuck—he really just made Silco forget all about feeling awkward and upset on Saturday because he was too busy focused on the fact that Vander had admitted that he'd meant for it to be a date. Or date-adjacent. A casual hang between acquaintances who mutually wanted to spend time with each other and also maybe swap spit.

Holy shit there was no possible way Silco was getting out of this unscathed. He never should have let it get this far in the first place; now he wanted too much, just like he'd predicted. "Do you have class?" Silco blurted out before he could swallow the words back down. Vander obviously hadn't been expecting that response, which meant Silco had a front row seat to the way Vander's face went a bit red and his lips twitched into a small smile. Fuck. He was so fucked.

"No, not 'til later." Vander let it hang between them and Silco ached.

Why? Why did Vander have to do things like earnestly apologize for making a bad call and answer Silco's question directly while still giving Silco all the power to steer the conversation.

"Come back to my dorm?" Silco asked quietly, trying not to grip the strap of his bag too tightly and give away just how much he needed Vander like this.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Vander said, just as quiet. Looking at Vander's face resisting the urge to beam at Silco made his insides twist with a shameful kind of heat.

Instead of responding—or doing something completely out of line like fall to his knees right there in the not-actually-empty-lecture-hall and choke on Vander's cock—Silco pulled on his coat and turned on his heel to lead the way back to his dorm. He kept his hands in his pockets, just to be safe, but their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked, and Silco knew he was doomed.