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Silco came home late, tired, and drunk. Viktor was already asleep, so he staggered around while trying to get his shoes and clothes off and finally dropped into bed beside him. He was feeling a little overheated from the alcohol and didn't curl up to him as he often did- just yanked a pillow free from the nest his scientist had built him, gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek when he half-woke with some grumbled Russian, and passed out face-first into bed.
When he woke, Viktor had already left to go work. Which was an absolute tragedy, as Silco was ragingly hard and unconsciously rolling his hips against the mattress before he even opened his eyes.
Strange. He hadn't woken so affected since he was a teenager.
It was probably for the better that Viktor was already gone- Silco had a busy day full of meetings, and figured he could spend the excess testosterone on being more bloodthirsty a businessman than usual. A quick cold shower would have to do.
It did not turn out for the better.
Silco was suffering.
He'd never felt like this before. He thought he knew what it was to want, a low belly desire, something like hunger- localized to those organs, nagging but very dismissible.
This was not that.
He could feel it in every nerve, like he had goosebumps under his skin. The heat between his legs wasn't even heat, or weight- he felt liquid, churning, at risk to spill or drip. And the liquid was in his mind, too, a constant tide that surpassed a nagging desire at a sprint, a constant howling thing like anger, but worse, because anger was at a thing and could be expended by throwing a punch or a bottle or a person. He felt like he was shaking, but when he had a moment to hold his hand out in front of his eyes, he was steady.
It persisted. No, not even persisting- it was an assault, inundating his mind, pounding inside his body, in every limb and cell. He was restless, irate and distracted, hyperfocusing on one thing and missing other things entirely. The budgeting he tried to work on was a disaster, his abacus ended up in bits on the floor, Velveteen left what was supposed to be a meeting of bribery in tears, and Saito had given him an ultimatum- which Silco utterly failed to respond properly to and would now have to turn the other chembarons against him.
When the day was two-thirds over, he finally gave in and went to try and appease his onerous hormones.
If anything, the half-shameful orgasm (really, he was far too old to be doing things like this, he knew he lost control sometimes, but that was always a violent and fear-inspiring affair. Pulling himself off in the bathroom mid-afternoon certainly wasn't fear-inspiring, though he was a little bit violent with himself) just made him more tightly wound.
By the time his scheduled workday was over, he was furious with everyone around him and furious with himself. Singed was loitering by his quarters when he went up, stomping up each stair as if they'd personally offended him, swinging his head round like a wolf baring teeth for a fight.
"Unless it's life-or-death urgent, you can fuck off," Silco told him. Singed had been an ally long enough that he didn't react with more than a blink and a nod and proceeded to descend the stairs at a more rational volume and pace.
Silco slammed his door shut behind him as hard as he could, and the responding rattle of the entire contents of his quarters was more annoying than satisfying. Everything was too loud, too demanding. He felt unhinged. And horny.
So. Goddamn. Horny.
All day. All day! He almost spitefully forced himself to stand stock still in the middle of the room, hands clenched in fists so tightly his knucklebones creaked. His body had never done this to him before, and it was like a betrayal. He wouldn't reward such inane, nonsensical behavior by giving it what it wanted. He couldn't understand why it wanted, still, even after trying to appease it once, he was still so horny -
Maybe it had been the sight of Singed that brought the idea to mind. (And in his addled distracted state, it had taken a few minutes to find enough blood to circulate the idea through his brain.)
Had someone drugged him?
The bar. He'd come home last night from the bar. Drunk.
He cursed himself, cursed the bartender, cursed his guards, and whirled to go out the door again. His body wanted an orgasm? He'd give it la petite mort , fuck, he would give it la grosse mort , he would kill everyone involved, he'd put the knife to them while putting the questions to them.
The implications of the situation were whirling in his mind. Why a drug for horniness , of all things? It wasn't to kill, it was coarse and offensive and specific enough to allude to a lack of respect and an intent to destabilize- or maybe it had something to do with Viktor, it was no secret they were partners-
He threw the door open and crashed into Viktor himself. Barely caught him as he lurched backward, gripping him by the elbows. His ochre eyes were wide and surprised.
"Silco," he gasped, letting go of where he'd caught him back and putting his palm flat on his chest. "You startled me-"
"Lock yourself in. I'll be sending Sevika up to guard the door. Don't trust any food or drink. What have you eaten or drank today? Do you feel normal?" Silco asked quickly, turning and pulling him inside the rooms and closing the door.
"What are you talking about, Silco? I feel normal. I've had a sandwich and water and milk today, why? What is going on?"
"I think I've been poisoned."
Viktor's face sharpened, and he quickly studied his face. "With what? You don't look feverish." He put a hand on Silco's sternum, the other under his chin. "Heart feels fine, lungs feel fine. Is it a hallucinogenic? You shouldn't go anywhere, certainly, if you've been poisoned."
"Not a hallucinogenic," Silco muttered, shaking off his touches and stepping back. He had things to do, blood to shed, people to cut answers out of, and the touch of his lover was making it hard to remember his to-do list. "It's- nothing I can't manage."
"What kind of poison, Silco? We agreed that I wasn't to be left in the dark. We're partners, I'm not your... your trophy scientist ," he said, and if not for the context, Silco would've laughed at his struggle to describe what he meant, and the result he settled on.
"I don't know. I don't even know if such a thing exists. It must, and I must've been dosed with it last night."
"Silco. What poison," Viktor insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I could remedy it, we could go to my lab, or to Singed, he's more versed in biochemistry than me."
"A poison that- It's made me so I- I can't," he huffed, trying to describe it tactfully before giving up. "I'm horny," he hissed.
Viktor started to laugh.
If it was anyone but Viktor who laughed at him after such an undignified statement, he would've killed them on the spot, in a manner that left him gloved in blood so heavy it was black.
"People get horny, Silco. Even you. I know, because you make me horny when you're horny," he said, still laughing. Silco's teeth creaked.
"Not like that," he snapped. "This is... this is so far beyond anything I've ever dealt with. I don't even remember being like this during puberty. It feels different. My whole body, and my mind, nothing but... want, all day. I even tried to- to take the edge off, but it didn't help."
"Fine, fine... have you been hard all day? That could be a drug, if you've been hard without break for more than a few hours," Viktor said, clearly trying to sober up and focus.
"No," Silco said miserably.
"Then... are you really sure it is a drug, and not just... horny?"
"I can't live my life like this," Silco snarled. "I've had a terrible and unproductive day."
"Well, before you go and start throwing accusations around and killing people, let's establish that it's really an unnatural lust. Are you really ready to march downstairs and start asking who slipped you the horny drug?"
Silco closed his eyes tightly for a long second, replied with them still closed.
".... no."
"Then. Let's try and see if I can get you feeling better, mm? Indulge my ego, let me sate your unsatiable want."
" In satiable."
"We'll find out."
With a wicked grin, always eager to rise to a challenge, Viktor rose up on his toes best as he could, hooked an arm behind Silco's neck, and dragged him down and back.
Silco followed his lead, letting Viktor drive his motion until he had him against the wall, against his mouth.
He chased the muffled groan Viktor made, kissing him roughly enough to click teeth before licking him open. Viktor's legs fell open, welcoming Silco to crowd him harder against the wall until he was easily holding his entire weight, pinned.
Silco curled around him, a knee between his legs pushing him up, his mouth hard against his pushing him down.
All day. He'd been craving this all day . The hot slide of lips and tongue were both satiating and spurring him to want more, more, more .
His hands cupped his ass, pulling Viktor against himself more fully, and when that wasn't enough, he got his hands under his thighs, gave him a moment to protest, and when he didn't, hoisted his legs around his hips.
It was almost enough. He needed more. To be surrounded by him more. Harder, more.
He'd kept a lid on himself all day, fighting with his own leash, his own body and mind, and now he let it all go.
He felt half mad.
It was delicious.
It wasn't enough.
More .
He realized he'd huffed the word against Viktor's shoulder. He didn't even know when he'd stopped kissing him, hips working unsteadily against Viktor.
Viktor appeared to have his head better than Silco- the crime lord was done thinking, spent, he was relishing finally feeding the fire that had been rolling molten through him all day, relentless, tidal. His entire body felt shivery and feverish with want.
Want? Need . He needed it like thirst, like air.
Viktor had his head- enough, even though he was making soft sounds against Silco (might've been just the huff as Silco ground against him, half crushing him in the way that they both so loved)- and was fumbling with his belt, Silco's belt, shoving him back for long enough to put his feet down and drop his pants to the floor, shove Silco's down, and then get his knees up to let Silco yank him against him again.
Silco made a broken sort of snarl into his collarbone at the first bare touch of skin against skin.
"Don't you go in dry," Viktor said sharply as Silco rutted against him.
"You're wet," Silco whined, hips stuttering, feeling a bit like he was going to come, or die, or both at any moment.
"Not enough. Fingers first," Viktor said firmly. Silco growled impatiently, but shifted the smaller man's weight to one arm and a knee, using the wall to pin him rather than hold him, and stuck two fingers into his mouth.
Viktor scowled at him, cheeks hollowing to give his fingers a suck, but the heat of his gaze wasn't real anger.
Just getting his fingers in him felt like heaven. The inside of his mouth was soft, but the inside of his core felt like silk. He tried to crane his neck back to watch his face and he took one, then another finger easily.
When he spread his fingers, stretching him, Viktor's face twisted and he ducked to bite Silco's shoulder, hard.
It was almost enough, for a little while, as he worked his fingers into Viktor, gently pushing back against the tension until he eased, until he got three fingers able to move easily. He enjoyed that for a bit until the whole-body need started to pick up again. It was almost-
"Viktor," he breathed, his name a prayer, a request, a plea. His legs tightened around him.
"Yes," he said simply into his shoulder, catching his breath for a moment while Silco dragged his fingers out of him and took his own cock in hand, using the slick all over him to get himself wet, stuttering at his own touch.
It wasn't enough.
And then he was pressing against Viktor's center, both of them gasping at the contact-
And then he was sliding in, pushing deep, opening him up and finding fire to meet his own-
And then it was enough.
He needed more-
-and then suddenly it was enough-
- too much -
He held perfectly still, barely even breathing. Like prey in the mouth of a beast, waiting for the snap. His orgasm was right. there. He didn't dare move.
He'd needed this all day, but now he didn't want it to be over. He was suddenly backpedaling, clinging to that perfect space between want and have where he got the satisfaction of success still in sight of the search, where it was won but it wasn't over.
Viktor seemed to sense him backsliding and was holding mercifully still, just one hand stroking the shorter hairs at the base of his skull soothingly, murmuring something that might've been in his birth tongue, for all Silco could comprehend for words.
"Я здесь, всё хорошо... I've got you, go ahead," Viktor said softly against his neck.
"I'm-" Silco choked out. Tried again. "I'm going to- I'll-" He couldn't even say it- to acknowledge it would bring it closer, he was going to lose it.
"да, давай, go ahead, I want it," he breathed in his ear.
"Not helping," Silco snarled.
Viktor laughed again, loose and joyful, a pure sound, and it made the muscles taut around Silco do funny things.
He jerked against him, and then did it again because it felt so fucking good , and another deep grind-
He shook and swore as he came, trying to fight it, trying to enjoy it, the air gone from his lungs and voice rasping with tension. Viktor held him through it, pleased and moaning, and kissed the tension from his temple and face.
"Fuck," Silco huffed.
"Yes," Viktor agreed, sounding far too happy about all of it. "How do you feel? Better?"
"I could go again," he said honestly, flushing with something like embarrassment.
"Could you?" Viktor rolled his hips and Silco dug his fingertips hard enough to bruise into his thighs, oversensitive and soft.
"... give me twenty minutes. How are you?"
"Take me to bed," Viktor said happily. "I can think of some things to keep us busy for twenty minutes. Is that all you need?"
"I expect so, with how I've been today. Like a blasted teenager again, and that's how long I needed then," he said, voice still irate, though his muscles felt both languid and clenching, still wanting. The urgency, the distraction and agitation that had made him feel unstable all day was gone. The hunger lingered.
"Can you carry me?"
Silco snorted, adjusted his grip on his legs, straightened to his full height. "Of course," he said, both of them shivering for a moment as he pulled out and held Viktor firmly. He backed toward the bedroom, using his heel to nudge the door open and leaving their pants in the front room.
"...huh," Viktor said, looking over his shoulder.
"What?"
"... Nothing." His tone definitely said something. The way his eyes jumped to the room behind Silco’s back, then to Silco’s face, then back past him, definitely said something.
"No, what?" Silco demanded, punctuating his words by dropping him heavily onto the bed. (Not in such a way to hurt his back or leg though. Never to hurt him. Even if he laughed at him for being horny.)
"You... did you sleep with your face on that pillow?"
"What pillow? Why does it matter?"
"Because... well," Viktor said, stretching to grab the pillow up by the headboard, one amongst many. (Between his bad joints and both of their sumprat nesting habits, they had almost more pillow than bed.) "This pillow." He sniffed it, made a face. "Yes. Interesting."
"Viktor."
"Here." He held it out to Silco and gestured. Silco brought it to his face and breathed in.
He suddenly didn't think he would need twenty minutes. Maybe ten. His reaction was visceral- his insides shivered, his entire nether region throbbed, his mouth watered. He could almost feel his eyes dilate.
"I don't believe that you were drugged. Er- not on purpose," Viktor said faintly.
Silco was blinking like he'd been struck between the eyes. His mouth twitched, beginning to grin, and he didn't resist the urge to draw the pillow back to his face and inhale deeply.
"What is this?" They both knew he wasn't talking about the scent.
"I, er... my favorite way to get off, other than with you, of course, is... with that pillow."
Above the magnificent lump of soft stuffing mashed lovingly against his face, Silco peered down at him expectantly.
"This is rather embarassing," Viktor said matter-of-factly. "I am aware it is not a very dignified method, but it is satisfying to me, and that pillow has the perfect firmness. Did you not notice last night, or this morning?"
"All I could smell was cigar smoke and whiskey last night, I was drunk," Silco said, muffled.
"And by this morning, you'd been breathing it- well, me - in all night, you were likely desensitized to it."
"We could weaponize this. I believed I had been drugged . I nearly started a turf war with Saito. I broke my favorite abacus," he realized.
"You are not weaponizing my- my..."
"Your hump pillow?" Silco sneered.
Viktor scowled at him. "Yes. My hump pillow," he said defiantly.
Silco looked at him for a moment, thinking. He dropped the pillow into Viktor’s lap, who fumbled to catch it.
"Show me."
Viktor blinked up at him, lips parted slightly in confusion. Silcoeveled his gaze at him, and then looked at the pillow pointedly, then back at him.
"Its... undignified. I can't, not with you watching."
Silco nodded slowly, thinking, nodded again. He crossed the room to a chair, dragged it to the corner of the bed, and sat down in it.
"Out of sight, then. Turn around, have a go. I know you're up for it- you didn't come yet." He wrapped his fingers around the chairs arms and leaned forward, speaking through a grin, all teeth. "If you make it good, I'll make you come again."
Viktor nodded a little, and then more firmly. "Deal." He turned, adjusting the bed and the pillow in a way that was obvious he had a routine. Up the bed with one hand on the headboard, he almost gingerly slid the pillow between his knees.
Silco was just behind and to the side of him- enough for a profile, to see his expression, but just barely out of Viktor's periphery.
He lowered himself down onto the pillow, sighing, shuffling a bit to put it where he wanted it.
Where he needed it, if the shaky exhale was anything to go by.
Viktor worked himself over the pillow slowly at first, and Silco caught him glancing back at him a few times, but eventually he seemed to narrow his focus. There was something like an artist at work, a dancer or even an acrobat, in how he moved with a natural, easy yet single-minded roll, his thighs lifting and churning like a machine picking up speed, hips tilting forward and back with each motion, his stomach and upper body working into a smooth wave. He shuffled a bit, making almost an irritated huff, that then became a gasp- he'd turned his feet under the pillow to give it a harder push up against his core, and it was clearly much better as he rutted a little faster against it, his motion less exploratory and more determined.
Silco made himself comfortable in his chair, leaning to a side and resting his chin on his knuckles.
It was the same hand he'd been opening Viktor up with, and he smiled as he caught the scent and noticed himself reacting to it. He let himself be caught up in it, swept up by the primal desires he'd been fighting all day.
His bad day had turned into quite a treat. A full sensory experience of watching, hearing, and smelling his lover work himself into a panting mess.
He didn't need to fantasize that he was in place of the pillow, he didn't need to add any imagination to the scene. For all Viktor had said it was undignified, Silco was finding it spectacular and delectable to watch. The motion of his body was so familiar that Viktor's pleasure was a vicarious thing, and Silco silently urged him to grind harder, faster.
The rhythm was falling apart, and so was his little scientist, the motion becoming more concentrated, just his ass bucking and hips thrusting, humping the pillow without any awareness of the world around him. Just chasing that edge. His upper body convulsed once, and then he fell down onto his elbows and wrapped his arms around the pillow, hips jerking fast and animalistic.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ahh hhh ," he was whimpering constantly now, a gasp without the control to stay silent, rolling his core down. Silco watched, enraptured, as his voice caught and appeared to stop breathing entirely. Coming and still humping the pillow slowly, dragging it out, finally making some broken sounds and a shaky huff. He squeezed his thighs around the pillow, dropped to his side so his front faced Silco, face lax and content.
"Mmmm?" he hummed lazily, still squeezing the pillow to himself with his legs.
"May I?" Silco asked, chin still on his hand, smiling.
Viktor nodded, and his easy pose was gone.
He was up and moving, pulling the pillow from his grasp and putting a hand on his hip to put him flat on his back, legs still open- Silco's mouth was watering again as he saw how wet and swollen he was, and he could feel Viktor's heartbeat under his skin, and his own heart hard and hot in his ears, in his fingertips, his straining cock as he rutted once against his folds, just to hear him whine and feel the mess, before pushing in with one thrust, and Viktor opened for him like he was welcoming him home, everything relaxed and slick and hot, silky, tight, so fucking hot-
He pistoned his hips, already fucking him hard and deep before Viktor even got a chance to get his hands on his shoulders- his legs wrapped around him again, and he was struck again by how perfect the world was when Viktor had his legs around him, and he locked around him and pulled him in like he had the pillow, hard and using him, grinding back with every thrust as best as he could- he managed to get his hands on his shoulders and held on for dear life as Silco pounded him.
Everything was hot and slippery, but his body was sure and screaming toward orgasm like a freight car, relishing the burn of his muscles, the pulsing of Viktor's center around him, the smell of him, of them, sex thick in the air, heady and-
fuck oh fuck -
-better than anything he'd ever smelled or tasted, and Viktor, brilliant minx, had one hand on Silco's face, moving toward his-
Fingers dipped into his mouth, hooking over his open and panting lower jaw, and his tongue chased the digits instinctively-
-the taste of him exploding over his tongue, soft fruit, earthy, musk and sweat, something so deeply human and rapturously full of life -
oh fuck oh fuck oh oh oh fuck oh oh oh -
He cried out, the sound odd as Viktor's fingers coated in his own come pressed down on his tongue, and his orgasm rolled through him and seized his muscles, his mind, making him jolt again and again as it almost ebbed and then rushed back over him, pleasure and need- he wasn't speaking words, just making noise, but it was platitudes and thank yous to his clever little animal, fingers on his tongue and sobbing through his own orgasm, looking like a torturous pleasure-creature as he flexed and writhed under him.
Finally, the sensations loosened their grip on him, and he slumped over Viktor- not on him, keeping his weight on the bed, but letting his back curl over him and resting his forehead on his clavicle, still with his fingers in his mouth. At some point he'd grabbed his wrist and held him there, closed his mouth to enjoy the feeling of fingers on his tongue, licking and sucking on them and tracing the knuckles and space between them. He dimly realized he was humming- how strange, to feel his body so acutely yet not be fully aware of what it was doing.
"Aren't," Viktor said, shivered hard, and then tried again, his free hand stroking Silco's hair, "Aren't you glad you didn't go looking for a poisoner?"
"I did, and I found him," Silco mumbled after finally removing his mouth from Viktor's fingers, turning his wrist to wipe them on Viktor's own chest (a half hearted scoff of protest, but it was too late) before putting the hand to his own cheek, holding it there.
"Good. Did you make him pay?"
"Certainly. I believe he learned his lesson."
"Mmm. He won't do it again?"
"I hope he does, actually."