Chapter Text
Hunter Silas Donnelly been trying very, very, hard, to be a good man. For like, an entire week. Hey, it's not his fault he never had a reason to try this before. His job is to hunt down and kill things- it doesn't leave a lot of room for self-improvement that isn't survival related. And more often than not, survival is nasty business. He would know, he's been doing a form of it since he can remember and it only got harder after being initiated into the Hunters.
But then he met General August Willenheim, and suddenly Silas wanted things he didn't even have names for. Things he's only ever seen on the periphery of his life while surviving, and not being sure he should. Survive, that is. He’s so severed from normality, he didn’t at first know what he was feeling, much less have an idea what he was supposed to hope for, what he was supposed to do. You know, besides ravish them. But, stars help him, he’s going try anyway.
Despite their very enjoyable night together, August looks worn out and on the edge of setting all of headquarters on fire when Silas enters their office, leaning back against the closed door.
Their office looks as opulent as ever, and part of Silas still wonders how he ever came to think of it as comfortable. How he ever thought someone so used to elegance, could possibly want him. The very first time he’d flirted with August, his superior officer, plays out in his minds eye and he smirks as he remembers their reaction. The warmth that entered their voice, the interest that sharpened their gaze. Silas had almost thought he was delusional, before deciding delusion or not, he was going to make the most of every moment of it.
“Stop looking at me like that,” August snaps, running their hand over their hair.
“Like what?” Silas chuckles, watching intently as they stand to their feet, turning their back on him and examining their bookshelf as if it held the secrets to the universe.
If he weren’t already too far gone, it would irk Silas that August doesn’t need to even look at him to compel him into action. He’s halfway across the office before he’s thought about why, and the smile he can see the edge of on August’s profile is all the proof he needs that none of their irritation is for him. Sliding his fingers under their chin, Silas encourages them to turn around and look up at him.
“Come on,” he goads. “Be good, and tell me.”
Pink flares to life on August’s cheekbones and their eyes narrow, but a moment later their bravado cracks like glass, their heavy sigh scattering the remnants to the winds. Shoulders sagging, they lean into his touch.
“I missed you,” they mumble reluctantly. “I know it’s silly, but it’s been a long, awful, day, and you seem to be the only thing that can combat my sour moods lately.”
Silas can feel his own eyebrows rise at their display of vulnerability. The blush on August’s cheeks deepens, but there’s an endearing, lopsided, smile on their exhausted face and Silas’ first instinct to tease them, gives way to the need to reassure.
He can’t help but smile, brushing his thumb along the soft skin of their jawline.
“Do you have any particular method or tool in mind for me to use to combat this sour mood?” he asks, meaning the words entirely, despite the teasing tone.
August tilts their head back a little farther, bottom lip tugged invitingly between their teeth as they stare up at him, pupils already dilating.
“You make it sound as though you are servant to me, when I feel it is you, that has unimaginable power over me. Making me feel this way…”
“In need?” Silas asks, voice almost a growl, as he uses the rest of his self control to keep from tearing their clothes off, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
August shivers, then nods.
“Then we are utterly equal,” Silas answers, as he steps forward.
He’s in August’s space, pressing them back against the bookshelves, when their hand comes up, resting upon his chest, although they don’t push him away.
“We shouldn’t,” they murmur, breath quickening, lashes dipping shyly.
Silas does growl then, but he also listens and doesn’t crowd them further like he desperately wants to. He wants their breath on his face, wants the lavender scent of their hair to fill his senses, wants the heady beat of their heart to urge him closer and closer, till he’s inside and outside them, both their bodies caging and subduing the other.
“A kiss?”
His voice almost unrecognizable to his own ears, and August seems unable to speak, simply nodding their head furiously, gleaming, violet eyes locked onto Silas’ lips.
Slowly, Silas dips his head, keeping his hold on them light as he presses his lips to theirs in a kiss that is as gentle as he can make it. Skin barely skimming skin, their breaths upon each others lips heavier and hotter, than the actual kisses.
August whines into his mouth and Silas goes rigid as he tries to hold back the urge to let their combined desire overrule August’s words. When August’s hand slides down his chest to his waist, fingers clenching into his shirt, Silas’ body starts to tremble, as if it were going to shake apart if it didn’t get more. When he opens his eyes, he sees August is trembling too, looking like they’re barely keeping their feet. Placing his hands on their arms to steady them, Silas is about to step back, when August angles their head to deepen the kiss, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and jerking him closer before pressing their leg between his.
Silas does the only thing he can think to do to keep from escalating things.
He abruptly sits on the floor, lowering his head as he focuses on his breathing.
There’s a deep silence, as presumably, August tries to figure out what the hell just happened.
The sound of shifting cloth is loud in the quiet office as August crouches down at his side. They lift Silas’ chin with gentle fingers, and he scowls when he sees their lips trembling. Silas scowls even harder when they can no longer hold back and burst into laughter. Then he’s the one who’s trying to hold back, and normally he would have no issue. Normally, the urge to laugh doesn’t even exist in him, but with August… with August he wonders if the humanity they bring out in him has always been there, or if they planted the seeds and brought forth the flowers somehow, without him even realizing, until he was surrounded by proof of a humanity he thought dead and gone.
Still chuckling, August slides into his lap and Silas gives them a narrow eyed, warning look.
“I promise to behave,” they say, lips twitching, “Although I wasn’t trying to tease you.”
Silas huffs out a breath, “That was you, trying not to tease me? I hope you’re prepared for the consequences, if you ever dare.”
“I’ll keep them in mind.” August sounds completely unconcerned as they lean their head against Silas’ shoulder. “You are more self-controlled than you think, as exampled by this,” they gesture at their unusual seating arrangement, and Silas snorts out a laugh.
Still smiling, he leans down to kiss them before quickly drawing back, eyes narrowed. But August doesn’t try to deepen it, and isn’t looking like sex on legs, instead looking leggy and slightly disheveled, but happy.
“I adore you,” Silas tells them, his desire for them rising anyway, but gentle enough that this time that it’s easier to let it slip away.