My Everything, Your Everything

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Note: Referenced Suicide Warning
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“This is your fourth glass, so I’m legally obligated to ask if you’re the designated driver.”

“I walk here and you know that Ruth.” Sylas downed another glass of booze, throwing it to the back of his throat and letting it burn the whole way down. “...Are you actually?”

“No, that’s my way of asking what’s bothering you.”

The delinquent sighed, soaking in the calm bar ambience in the hopes that it would alleviate his stress.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You didn’t come by for a few days, and then when you finally did you drank more than usual, so yes. I would say it’s obvious.”

For a moment he debated whether or not he should fess up; Sylas never told others his business, usually because there wasn’t really anything to tell. To help motivate himself, he flared up another cigarette. It was only a Tuesday, so he didn’t have to worry about Actavio barging in.

“Alright, let’s say you liked someone, but they had a wife and kids–”

“No.”

“I didn’t even finish.”

“You don’t need to, the answer is no.”

“Alright, well what if they don’t really love their wife?”

“The answer is still no.”

Ruth picked up his empty glass and set it aside for cleaning: her way of telling him to stop drinking.

“Regardless of their marital status, you would be ruining the lives of their children.”

“How?”

“By injecting yourself in the middle of their parents’ relationship. If they’re still married, then they have their reasons for being together that may not be as clear cut as love.”

Relationship titles like girlfriend, boyfriend, wife, husband, anything and everything Sylas never understood for that exact reason. He never understood why someone would brand themselves with a title just for this or that benefit: taxes, land, money, whatever it may be. And it really was just that: a title. It didn’t mean anything and it only caused unnecessary complications.

A little frustrated, he smothered his cigarette into the ashtray and got up to leave.

“I hope you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“No, I’m gonna see what others have to say about it.”

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Lorraine clapped his hands together in utter glee, “Oh I love a good home wrecker!”

Sylas groaned, slumping further into the armchair. “Why am I friends with you?”

“Well, that’s what you wanted to hear, right?” He creeped closer with a mischievous smirk. “I bet it’s the champ.”

“Lorri I will fucking rip your throat out.”

“Alright! Alright! I’m just saying~. Listen, you’ve got a good chance! You played nurse for him.”

“I’m not talking about him.”

“Sure you aren’t. So, your ‘anonymous’ crush then.” The orchestrator mockingly continues, “I think you’ve got a good chance. And fuck kids anyways! They suck, who cares.”

“This is why I didn’t want to ask you.”

“What!”

“You support my dogshit morals!”

“Okay and what did Ruth say?”

“What do you think she said?” Sylas lets out a more deathly groan the second time around, disheveling his hair in frustration. “This is so FUCKING OBNOXIOUS!!! I wish he didn’t have kids. You know, what if I–”

“I’m gonna stop you there before you get one of those Sylas-y ideas.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“You know what that means! Your crazy ideas that get you sent to prison and worse!”

“Yeah but it’ll solve my problem wouldn’t it? Always does.”

Head aimed to the ceiling, he ignites another flame to his smoke. At this point, he’s been through nearly a full pack in the last few hours. Usually he only smoked about one to two per week, since he wasn’t all that heavy of a smoker; it was just something to kill the time or add spice to liquor. But with having to worry about Actavio so much, he’s started to smoke more than his norm.

After only a puff or two, he extinguished it in the ashtray and stood up with another harsh groan.

“Wait where are you going?”

“I’ll just fucking play it by ear. I never think about this shit anyway.”

“But–”

Before Lorriane can finish his thought, the delinquent is already out the door with his imaginary tails flared.

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     That Wednesday Actavio looked at him twice: on entry and on exit. It felt like they only knew each other in private but then again if they spoke to each other in public it could easily spark rumors and rumors always lead to press involvement, especially because he wanted to let this bar stay the secluded, peaceful abode detached from the ruin that it was. After Actavio left, Sylas followed after.

As expected, he was awaiting him in the alley, back against the wall.

“Have you decided what you wanted?”

“...Give me another night with you. Not at your apartment.”

“Then did you have a different location in mind?”

“Of course I do,” Sylas smirked, “but you’ll have to give me your keys, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Without any hesitation, Actavio reaches into his pocket and throws it to Sylas, giving him his answer.

It was the first time that he’d be driving Actavio – conscious that is – although he imagined people drove him all the time. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t ask where they were going and only kept his eyes outside the passenger window, watching the city slowly fade the further they drove away. It took nearly two hours for them to fully exit the metropolis, and even then he didn’t question their unknown destination.

For all he knew, Sylas could’ve planned to stuff his body into a bag and throw it in the ocean; then again, Actavio was smart. If he was afraid of any of that happening he wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place, let alone given him such free reign over his payment. Yet at the same time, Actavio didn’t know the true lengths that Sylas would go to see his dream become a reality.

Once again the car ride was in utter silence until it was set into park a safe distance away from the edge of a mountainside cliff. They exited the luxury sedan yet left the engine on and headlights off: Sylas sitting on the warm hood with a knee up while Actavio leaned against it beside him.

The bustling city lights ranging from high rise buildings to residential homes and late night traffic were still visible, even from their extensive distance. From afar it appeared as though the stars had graced the earth with their presence, illuminating the country in all of its turmoil.

Finally breaking the silence, Sylas was the first to speak with a showy grin. “Nice isn’t it? I try to come out here at least a few times a year, though it’s hard since I don’t have a car.”

“Then how do you usually get here?”

“You’re really asking me that?” He said with a light laugh.

Likewise, Actavio returned the chuckle and then soft smile. “Then forget I asked.”

Outside of the city more foliage could be found, and as such they were surrounded by an abundance of trees and bushes; Sylas all but hoped that a coyote pack or any other animal wouldn’t ruin his evening with his crush. Though, Actavio probably carried a firearm on him considering his position. Wait…

“Actavio, don’t you have a gun?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Because I never–” For a second an image flashed of all the times he stripped his crush down, and his amazing skin, body, muscles, pecs…Sylas shook his head. “Felt it–on you.”

“It’s in my coat pocket.”

Oh, that’s probably why he takes it off all the time.

As if reminding him, Actavio removes his coat and momentarily steps away to put it in the car before returning.

“It is beautiful though, I will admit. The skyline, I mean.”

“No, I didn’t think you meant me.” Sylas tries his hand at another joke, to which Actavio scoffs and rolls his eyes. Less annoyed this time, more friendly. He’s getting there, slowly but surely.

“I’ve never had someone do something like this for me before. I suppose what I mean is that it feels nice to take a break every now and then.”

“Is that why you come to the bar?”

“In truth, yes. Between my group and all the hassle it comes with, and then my wife and children, it’s…a mess. It feels like I’m a parent for them and the entire country. I’m not complaining about it, it’s just I wish I had more time to pursue things that I would like to, like the lives of my children. I wish I could spend more time with them, be more involved in their lives, and I know my eldest despises it the most of all.”

Though Sylas had found the existence of his children a nuisance, he still felt sorrow hearing the troubles of his love. He wanted to steal him away from the world that didn’t give him the same care he gave, show Actavio that he would treat him differently than the masses–better than the masses.

And, if he really cared for his children that much…maybe he wouldn’t mind them being around. It would be nice, he admitted, to see Actavio be a caring father that smiled from his heart in the presence of his children. And to know that he was the one to thank for giving him the life he always wanted. He could see it now: that soft smile, the sound of his gratefulness. Then to further show how grateful he was, he would…

“I never usually talk about my issues, but I suppose the vegetation and quiet evening leaves me with more to think about.” Actavio sighs, for once more in relief. “This feels like a good time for a smoke, if I did do so.”

Taking the opportunity, Sylas sneaks in, “Then…do you mind?”

Albeit a bit reluctantly, Actavio caves, thinking it’d be pathetic to back down after that comment.

“Go ahead.”

A little hesitantly, Sylas lights a cigarette and offers one to Actavio out of courtesy, to which he declines.

“Why do you hate cigarettes so much?”

“My…” He pauses, then says with an exhale, “Sister. She used to smoke fairly heavily, damaged herself and her children.”

His amber eyes widened, nearly coughing on his own fumes. “You had a sister?”

There wasn’t a single mention of there being a sibling to the Actavio Meridaitus–he’d know, he researched everything about him.

“I did. She died. Suicide.”

“Oh. I’m sor–”

“No, you aren’t. No one is.” Actavio sighed again, this time in an attempt to release his bitterness. “No offense. It’s just a bad memory.”

“Then…your kids-?”

He didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. The rumors were true then, in their own way. They weren’t his, at least Aiden and Nolan for sure weren’t; and it wasn’t by a mistress, it was his sister’s children. It only left him with a thousand questions to which he knew that he would never answer for the time being, but if he was comfortable enough to tell him such a tightly held secret, then…Maybe his dream wasn’t as much of a fantasy as he thought it was.

Actavio’s once light, calm expression darkened to that of a lour, eyes drifting to the short grass rather than the urban stars. He’d never seen him appear so…disheartened, so dejected and melancholic. Sadness didn’t seem like it could ever be an emotion he withheld and yet the sight crumbled Sylas’s heart. To see him–To see him....

Without even exhaling the smoke first, Sylas pulled Actavio into a kiss, cupping his cheek. A muffled cough from the cloud of grey and taste of nicotine left the mafia boss, but he only drew him closer. Quickly Actavio gave up on trying to escape and embraced the flavor of vapor and Sylas’s comfort. It was the first kiss they had done with the complete absence of tongue; just pure affection. Sylas’s affection. He laid his heart for Actavio to see, presenting it in his trembling hands to show him how much he cared, and how much it hurt to see him in pain.

The smoke only exited and dissolved around them when their lips parted. Those same hazel-blue eyes stared right at him, but not in a glare. It was in longing; longing to forget about everything. His group, his family, his sister. If there was anything Sylas wanted more in this world, it was to do just that for him. To be the one to make him forget it all–leave it all behind.

He dug the cigarette onto the surface, letting the doused bud tumble to the greenery below as he reconnected their lips, this time allowing for Actavio to garner a more thorough flow of nicotine through the waltz of their shared warmth.

Actavio gravitated inwards until he progressively crept onto the vehicle and Sylas guided him further onto the car, his back against the hood and glass with Sylas hovering over him, eclipsing the moonlight and skyline, ensuring that he was all that mattered to Actavio. He didn’t need anyone or anything else.

Caring and cautious hands removed his clothes, one article at a time. First his royal blue blazer and vest fell beneath his back, then the buttons to his white dress shirt. It was far too cold to fully undress him although he still removed his undergarments, but he’d mitigate the heat loss for his love soon enough.

Sylas removed his jacket and held Actavio’s hand as he led their clasp against the car; willingly he wrapped the other around his caretaker’s arm. Just as he slid his fingers lower, Actavio stopped him.

“It’ll hurt, Actavio.” He uttered in a concerned whisper.

“It’s..fine. I…”

The hazel-blue gaze broke, darting away in embarrassment, unable to finish the statement.

He already prepared himself…

Quietly and with a surprising amount of tranquility, Sylas continued without a word. After bringing them both to a rise, he eased himself into Actavio, palm to hip. Loose and slick, confirming his previous theory.

As he started to move, Actavio wrapped his legs around and solidified their connection. The heat of Sylas, his passionate embrace, and the purr of the engine brought Actavio’s temperature to an alltime high, rivaling the ill fever he once held. A pyretic tint deepened the hue of his face and shoulders to a soft scarlet that only wished for more.

He let the waves of pleasure encompass him, muddle his thoughts and mind until all that was left was Sylas in the midst of a blank sheet. Sylas and his warmth. His comfort. His care. Him. Sylas.

Each drive sent a shock that jolted his waist and spine, acting as a constant reminder as to who was there, providing him with what he needed and when he needed it most. Not once did his molten sodalite gaze drift from his own after penetration. In every aspect he embraced him fully, accepting all that he had to give and more. The only one to hear his moans was Sylas, and Sylas alone.

Sylas tightly clenched the hand of his love in his own, leaning in for another kiss, this time after parting he remained close by, their rapid breaths close enough to merge. The thin gold chain wrapped around his neck hung in a low shimmering smile. Under the brilliance of the night his citrus markings shone, almost as though they were a part of him and would soon stretch off and encircle Actavio as well.

Translucent streams of preejaculate glided off his smooth skin and dimmed the white of his dress shirt to a puddle of dark grey. The frigid breeze of the night was akin to a normal gust of air as it didn’t sway the fervent blaze nor their impassioned embrace.

Actavio returns the hold, voluntarily letting his voice roam free.

“Sylas~! I’m-..gonna come–”

No matter how many times he heard it, he never grew tired of hearing his name spoken in such a sweet release.

Readily, Sylas kissed Actavio once more with a sultry and devoted mutter, “Me-..too.”

His pace quickened, slamming harder and harder into his love, gyrating the black sedan as it silently vibrated beneath them. In one final pummel, they performed their last and orgasmed in a simultaneous gasp. Now a stain of milky white joined the spots of grey on Actavio’s dress shirt while the same filled him from within, coating his walls until they couldn’t withhold it any longer and it leaked out.

Sylas shifted the disorderly blonde strands out of Actavio’s face, verifying his condition. He assumed he would be too exhausted to continue, but in fact it was the opposite. His eyes wanted more.