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Over the years they've been acquainted, entwined, people have made comments about Vander’s dick. People impressed with his audacity will crow about him, imply things about him. People convinced they're fucking will make jeering commentary, hoping to get a rise out of one of them. People interested in Silco will compare themselves, telling him they're sure Vander's not satisfying with whatever size they assume he's working with. Silco has never responded to any of the comments. He will smile or roll his eyes and move on from the asinine topic. Partly because it's not worth discussing, but also because he tries not to be a particularly sentimental person.
If he considers it, after a few too many, he thinks Vander’s dick is just another way they were made for each other. Silco, in his youth, had lamented the body he was born with, too skinny and too frail and all the wrong bits. But Vander fits up in him so perfectly. It’s never the same when they fuck like proper men, it still feels good, they always have a good time together, but it’s just not the same. It doesn’t make him sweat and drool, it doesn’t make him tear up or whine, despite how hard Vander works to try and get that reaction. It’s not that he’s not enjoying himself, it’s just that it’s never perfect.
Whenever Vander squeezes himself into Silco’s pussy, he feels like a puzzle box. Like Vander has clicked all the right buttons, turned all the right knobs, and opened up the hollow center of him. Vander is a key and he is a lock. It's a relief, it’s salvation. It's just sex, of course, but no one else fits like Vander does. No one else has the guts to spread him wide and spear him open. Silco is the kind of creature that always wants to protect his soft parts, curled up to keep his soft core hidden. When they’re together, Vander is something between scientist and butcher. He pulls Silco’s limbs apart and pins them to a board, he breaks open Silco’s carapace and sifts through whatever viscera he likes. Leaves what doesn’t please him to the side. He decides what’s worth keeping, and doesn’t ask his specimen’s opinion. He marks him up if needs be, makes him pretty. Pins him down until he takes the right shape, until Vander can get the proper yield from his flesh. No one dissects him like Vander.
Silco was made to take him, and Vander was made to fill all his empty parts. Maybe that's their mutual devotion. It's not pure love, never has been something so ephemeral. It's always been an odd sort of connection. People who didn't know them well would ask if they were family, were lovers, would try to figure them out. They've always been something else. Silco would never say it out loud, but he sometimes thinks the word ‘soulmate’ might apply. He tries to keep that thought buried deep, though, because Vander will be able to see it on his face. He'll taste it on the dense air between them and have to start digging, have to start pulling layers back.
As if the stray thought caught his attention, Vander pauses his gentle assault on Silco’s body.
“Where are you, alleycat?” Vander murmurs in his ear. He bites the knob of Silco’s jaw before the question even has a chance to process.
“‘M right here,” Silco protests, wiggling his hips. He remains frustratingly empty, just two of Vander’s fingers tucked into him. It’s a frustrating pressure. Vander’s fingers are thick and calloused, and they twitch impatiently every time Vander forgets himself. Vander is not a still person. He wants to have his mind occupied, his hands on some task. He was suited for the mines in ways people were always jealous of. He’d work and work on some task, single minded, focused, then seamlessly move to relaxation mode once his shift was done, his sights would be set upon good food, good company. Dancing, drinking, sex, he’d keep going until his motor spluttered out and then he’d awake the next morning just to do it all over again. Now that he’s a reputable community member and father, he finds other things to occupy his time and attention. Silco’s pussy is still one of his favorite fidget toys. Or—it usually is. Right now, he’s pulling some power play. His thumb rubs idly at the slick skin just to the side of Silco’s cock.
“Nah,” Vander uses his other hand to brush away stray hair from Silco’s face, caressing his scarred cheekbone. “Got your head in the clouds again, Sil. Head in the stars at this point, really.” His thumb and forefinger rub together, an idle movement that happens to have Silco’s cunt caught between them. Silco stifles the noise his body wants to make at being treated like a goddamn worry stone.
“Fucking—I’m here, you have my full attention, just—,” Silco starts struggling, as if he wants to break free of Vander’s arms, as if he even could.
“No, I want to know what took you away from me.” Vander grips his shoulder with one giant paw, pushing him down into the mattress. He frees his other hand and uses it to press down between Silco’s hips. Silco can’t stifle the upset noise he makes at the emptiness. Vander hums soothingly and massages Silco’s stomach with one hand, smearing slick everywhere. “You’re okay, alleycat, just tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Fuck you,” Silco snarls, pushing at Vander’s chest as best he can. Vander bears his weight down on Silco. It sets something animal off in Silco’s hindbrain, but he can’t tell if it wants to submit or wants to fight. His head goes fuzzy on the edges before fighting wins out like it always does. Silco bares his teeth and begins to struggle in earnest, kicking and punching and wiggling, trying to squirm out of Vander’s hold. Vander is much too used to this fight, however, and meets each new escape method with its match.
As they wrestle for dominance, Silco lurches to the side and goes over the edge of the bed before Vander can catch him. The jolt of hitting the floor is enough for Vander to truly get the upper hand. He gets a handful of hair and grinds Silco’s face into the rug, and uses his other hand to wrench one of Silco’s arms around behind his back. Silco wails in anger, and kicks wildly. Vander laughs, a dark sound that Silco has only ever heard in bed or when Vander is about to snap on some rabblerouser. Vander lets go of Silco’s hair, grabs his other arm and crosses them over each other. One of his giant hands wraps around Silco’s crossed wrists. The stretch in his chest and shoulders aches.
Vander is panting like a dog, teeth bared in a vicious smile when he uses his free hand to force Silco’s head to the side. Vander’s teeth scrape over Silco’s cheek, the only warning before he fits his teeth around Silco’s lower jaw. Vander always finds the strangest places to bite him, Silco thinks deliriously. He can never keep it to normal places. Silco has had to explain away bite marks on the back of his fucking knees before. He flexes his wrists, and Vander pulls away to kiss his cheek.
Silco uses the moment of tenderness to kick out, trying to topple Vander over. Vander growls, low and frustrated, and bares his weight down. He digs his knee into the back of one of Silco’s thighs, making him grunt, and forces his legs apart, pushing them open wider than is quite comfortable for Silco’s slim hips. If Vander is a growling, snapping dog, Silco is his bitch in heat. They’re both rabid, feral creatures, and there’s nothing Silco would rather be.
He tries in vain to continue struggling, but Vander noses into the side of his neck, and gets his teeth around the meat of Silco’s neck and shoulder. He bites down hard, growling low like a beast. Silco moans, pain and arousal zinging across his senses. That spot is something of an off switch for Silco. Vander shakes his head, slightly, biting down harder like he’s going to rip out a chunk. Silco finally goes limp and pliant under Vander. The ache of his overstretched limbs washes away as he relaxes. And without the focus of the pain, the emptiness of his cunt pushes itself to the front of his awareness.
“Why do you fight me, alleycat?” Vander grits out, voice gruff with the effort. He felt it when Silco gave in, but doesn’t let up his grip. Silco has tried possum plays before. “If I want you, I’m going to have you. On my terms.”
“Vander.” It’s a plea, but Silco can’t acknowledge that. He throws his head back, but it’s a half-hearted struggle at best.
“Have something to tell me?” Vander slams his head back down. Silco is embarrassed to feel himself clenching around nothing. He is positive that their rug will be ruined by the end of this night. His mind is usually running four or five trains of thought at once, but all of them have been put on hold, all he can think about is how empty he is. About what he can say to get Vander in him, and quick. He hates to break this easily, but it’s been a while since they’ve had a night to themselves, and he’s a bit pent up.
“I was just thinking about your cock, you fucking bastard.”
“That’s not enough for a reward, princess.” Vander says it slowly, gently, like Silco is stupid. He closes his eyes against the pulse of heat that goes through him.
“I,” Silco starts, voice cracked in half with need. “You’re so big, Van.” Vander laughs at him. He doesn’t say anything, the position Silco is still stuck in being enough evidence that he’s not doing a good enough job. Silco howls wordless frustration into the rug. Vander pulls his hair, sharp. A warning. “I was just thinking about how it feels to have you in me, like a puzzle piece, and—and how much I like it, please, Vander, I want it so bad,” Silco bucks his hips backward, offering. “I need it so bad, it hurts, please!”
“Aw, alleycat, you spoil me,” Vander coos, laugh still caught in his chest. Silco whines. “I know that’s not all, but I’ll give it to you, since you’re so desperate.”
Silco is sopping wet, so Vander’s cock enters him in one smooth slide that has Silco groaning, open-mouthed. If he was relaxed after being truly trapped in Vander’s arms, he’s dead weight now, marionette with no strings, letting Vander reposition him as he pleases. Vander folds him in half, back arched obscenely. He’s considerate enough to let Silco possess his arms again, but Silco’s limited faculties only let them flop to his sides. Vander manually positions them up near Silco’s face, murmuring something about how sweet he is with a cock in his pussy. It’s a hard assertion to argue with, especially when sparks are going up and down Silco’s spine.
Vander sets a punishing pace, grunting each time he bottoms out. Vander is just long enough that it hurts when he hits the top of Silco’s cunt. It’s a potent combination, the perfect stretch and the sharp pain of his rapidly-bruising cervix. Silco kneads the rug idly, nuzzles his face into the floor. When Vander beats him down and uses him like this, it feels like absolution, like religion.
“Look at you,” Vander praises. “You’re drooling, baby. This is why you’re my little alleycat. All you need is someone to touch you in the right spot and you roll over, show your soft fuzzy belly.” He must like the image he’s conjured for himself, because he grips Silco’s hips harder and adjusts his angle. Silco whines as he loses the painful pressure on his cervix. His cunt clenches wildly, as if trying to coax Vander deeper in. Vander laughs at him, cruel. “Gonna let your sweet pussy do the talking for you, pretty kitty?”
“Van-der,” Silco moans, eyes rolling. He can’t quite verbalize what he wants, so he bucks his hips. It’s almost petulant. Vander pushes in, deep, but not quite right. He pauses there and rubs the head of his cock against the front of Silco’s pussy, presses a gentle hand to Silco’s stomach like he really is petting a cat’s tummy. Silco makes a noise of outrage and tries to get his shaking legs to cooperate, to do something to jumpstart Vander into action. His legs are too far apart and he can’t quite get them to close. They’re barely holding him up, if he’s being honest with himself. If Vander let go of his hips, he’d surely collapse. “No,” Silco laments. Vander bends over him, pulling out slightly. Silco gnashes his teeth.
“No, what, allycat?”
“Want it,” Silco begs.
“Still haven’t learned your lesson? You gotta use your words, baby.” Vander tenderly strokes Silco’s hair. “Cock in your pussy made you stupid? Think if I bred you up, you’d be struck dumb for nine months?”
The thought makes Silco sob. Vander’ll never knock him up if he doesn’t aim for the right goddamn place. “I want it deeper,” he demands. Vander hums in consideration. He is kneading Silco’s stomach again, distracting. Silco doesn’t know where his other hand went until his cock is pinched cruelly between two of Vander’s fingers. He wails, legs kicking involuntarily. He’d definitely be a heap on the ground now, if Vander weren’t holding him up. Pain shoots up and down Silco’s spine, clouding his thoughts. He squirms, then sobs harder when Vander pulls his cock completely out.
“Use your manners.”
“Please! V-Vander, please, I want it deeper, it hurts so much when you hit me there!” Silco bites his tongue as he babbles pleas. Blood blooms in his mouth. Vander gentles his grip on Silco’s cock, then fits his thumbnail against the tiny slit there. Silco shrieks, bucking and struggling. “Please, please, Vander, please!”
Vander growls as he shoves his cock back into Silco’s desperate cunt. He pinches Silco’s cock again as he thrusts in deep, past the tightest part of him to batter his aching cervix. The hand that was on Silco’s stomach fits itself around one of his skinny thighs, fingers digging in as he opens Silco’s hips yet wider. Silco trembles, and bites the meat of his hand to muffle his noises. He tries to focus on bracing so Vander can keep hitting that spot. Vander seemingly takes mercy on him, and steadies his hips for him. Silco mumbles out a string of delirious thanks and pleas. It takes a few short minutes of focus fire on that spot for white spots to start blooming before Silco’s eyes. He whimpers, clenching hard around Vander’s cock.
“You gonna come, alleycat?” Vander asks, panting with exertion. Silco moans, the best he can do. Vander reaches down to rub gentle fingers across Silco’s hard little clit. He does it gently, which is what sets Silco off. He’s dimly aware of Vander fucking him through it, murmuring filthy encouragement into his ear.
Silco basks in the afterglow as Vander uses his cunt, pursuing his own orgasm. It aches and sparks with overstimulation, but Silco feels relaxed and clear headed for the first time in weeks. Vander grunts, all animal satisfaction, when he comes, buried as deep as Silco likes it. He sighs at the rush of heat. Vander is saying something to him, gently lowering his hips to the ground. But Silco can’t process anything. He’s too relaxed. His eyes are heavy.
He blinks awake a few minutes later, body aching pleasantly. Vander has cleaned him up and wrapped him in blankets on the bed. Silco stretches, groaning when several places on his body twinge painfully. He’s firmly out of his 20s now, he thinks ruefully.
“Hey, Sil. How’re you feeling?” Vander looks tired, too. He offers a glass of water, smiling crookedly.
“Like we should stop fucking on the ground,” Silco drawls. As he sips the water, he gingerly touches his cheek, which he sincerely hopes doesn’t have bad enough rug burn to last to the morning. He spares a loving thought toward Vander, who’d had the presence of mind to make sure Silco’s good side had borne the brunt of the abuse from the carpet.
“Yeah, we’ve really gotta get that in check.” Vander laughs. He leans on one elbow and raises a brow. He has this smug look on his face that makes Silco’s stomach do a flip. Silco sneers at him.
“What are you grinning about?”
“I’m just thinkin’, Sil.” Vander says. “About how we finally had a night with just us, no kids, no work, a chance to spend time together. And here I am, engaging in some foreplay, wonderin’ if you’re gonna roll over for me, and I look up, and there’s starry Silco, ignoring me.”
“Don’t call me that,” Silco admonishes, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t have a good reason for why his thoughts got away from him, this time.
“Well?” Vander draws out the word expectantly. Silco scowls at him. “What were you thinking about? Don’t tell me you were doing math again?”
“That was one time!” Silco objects, hitting him on the chest. Vander laughs. “It’s nothing, my mind was just running.”
“Nah, cause if it was, you wouldn’t’ve made me beat it out of you.” Vander tilts his head, keen eye searching for something in Silco. “You know I won’t think less of you for anything, love.”
Silco stares at him, conflicted. They’ve been together for basically Silco’s whole life. Some of that was before they were properly partners, but by now, the amount of time after the river outweighs the time before it. They’ve done so much work to become better versions of themselves. For the kids, yes, but also for each other. They wanted to make it work. It had taken so much introspection, and so many rough conversations. So many fights, so many nights of trading secrets under the covers like teenagers. He knows that Vander won’t think less of him. He knows how Vander feels about him. Silco bites his lip. He looks up at the ceiling.
“You can’t laugh at me. Or make fun. Or have any sort of… reaction.”
“I can’t have any reaction?” Vander snickers. “Do you want me to slip into a coma?”
“Do you want me to tell you or not?” Silco snarls. Vander shushes him, petting his hair out of his face. He’s overdue a haircut.
“I’d like to know. You’ve made it such a mystery, alleycat.”
Silco sighs. Serves him right for getting caught up in his thoughts in the middle of sex. He grits his teeth. “Fine. Fine. I was thinking. About us.”
“Great start,” Vander coaxes, keeping a light, teasing tone to try and get Silco more comfortable. “And about my cock?”
“Yes.” Silco seethes. Vander’s teasing is working. He wiggles closer to his partner. “And I was thinking about… It feels nice. And I like being around you. And you get me.” Silco grits his teeth around the series of confessions. Vander kisses his shoulder. This many years into their relationship, this many children together, lives inextricably linked, it should not be so hard to say these things out loud. “And it feels….like you're my soulmate. Or something.”
“Oh, Sil,” Vander sighs, rolling over on top of him. Silco puts up a perfunctory protest, but submits to Vander peppering his face in kisses. “You think we’re soulmates? You love me? You want to find me in every universe?”
“Get off of me, you oaf!” Silco squirms under Vander’s ministrations, but doesn’t actually break out of his hold, which he knows Vander would allow, this time. He cups Vander’s face in his hands. “I would find you in every universe. You’ll never be free of me, dearheart.”
“I’d never want to be free of you, alleycat. You were made for me by the Gods. You were sent to me by the stars.” Vander finally drags him into a proper kiss, all-consuming. Silco moans into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Vander doesn’t let him up for air until he’s gasping. Their foreheads touch as they gaze into each others’ eyes. Silco smirks up at Vander. Vander grins lecherously, no doubt predicting what Silco is about to ask.
“Think you’re about ready for round two?”