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The day before the revolution starts, it's Vander groaning that wakes him up, sadly enough, since his head decides to start pounding, a not-so-quiet reminder of just how many glasses of rum they had the night before.
"Giving up drinking," Vander murmurs, lips warm against the nape of his head.
Silco snorts, then groans again when that makes the pounding worse.
"Brave words for a bartender," then another kiss on his nape, and another. He gives a soft squeeze to Vander's forearm, still around his waist. "I am in too much misery for you trying to be so lovely, Vander."
"Fair enough," There's another kiss, but this time without intent, before Vander shifts, pushing himself up. "Coffee?"
"Black like my soul."
"Glass of milk with sugar coming right up," after that, Silco attempst to elbow Vander, but Vander avoids him easily, laughing, standing up to reach for his clothes and Silco admires the view, clinging to this early morning and the quiet darkness inside Vander's room, right before they have to get ready for the final preparations before they change the whole of Zaun and Piltover.
Vander turns to look at him, half a question on his face, but then something changes, something Silco can't understand in his eyes before he comes back to the bed, leaning forward and kissing him. Vander's mouth is still sour with sleep but he makes no complaints, giving a soft sound, maybe a laugh, maybe something else, his hand curling on the back of Vander's hair.
When they break apart, Silco has to admit that he is a little breathless.
"Good morning to you too, then."
Vander smiles at him as if he was even more valuable than gold.
“I want to wake up next to you, just like this. Every morning.”
Silco smiles, soft, as if his heart wasn't going crazy inside his chest. "Is that a proposal?"
"Could be," Vander says. "When we win. Once we get Zaun free... what do you say?"
As if there was any doubt.
"When we win, then."