Volatile (Silco x Reader)

P2: Friend to Friend, Of Course

info: "Silco, Vander and (Y/N) went in their separate directions. It's not until Silco informs (Y/N) that he was in need of the assistance of Their pyromaniacal tendencies and expertise to teach a child he had taken in. Reluctantly, They agree to help. Once again, They have fallen in love with Silco."

Set after episode 3 of "Arcane" SPOILERS!

WARNINGS: gender-neutral reader, violence, bomb-making, alcohol consumption, swearing, uhh idk. 

haha I'm too scared to look up how to make bombs on my computer because I don't want to be put on a list so plz just accept the vague details and bullshit chemistry I'm trying my best I'm not a scientist haha... ;-;

4884 words

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True to his words, two large burly men strode into your apartment, comically barely fitting in the hallway and carried your one backpack and bag.  Silco greeted you in front of the repurposed 'The Last Drop' as his eyes scanned over the two bags and you felt your cheeks blooming with embarrassment. He luckily didn't comment, and only instructed you to follow after him. Your eyes widened as he led you inside an apartment building a little far from the bar,

"Stars, Silco this is-" you found yourself at a loss for words, staring at the spacious apartment. The two men set the bags down and promptly left, leaving you alone with Silco. This living room alone was so much larger than the single room at Miss E's, and had a walk-in kitchen- complete with an oven, a stovetop, a microwave and a fridge! You hardly noticed as Silco turned away, the corners of his lips curved slightly in a smile,

"There's no mould here," He told you, heterochromatic eyes scanning the clean, empty walls as your own eyes practically sparkled with excitement. You examined all the empty cabinets, noticing they were clean of dust. Then the working fridge, and then seeing if all the burners worked. They did. Silco called your attention to a door that led to a small bathroom that had a bath and shower, along with the other bathroom necessities. The smell of bleach was a godsend as it hit your nose, indicating it was clean. Still, you smiled happily at something so basic.

The bedroom is where your two bags had been deposited, and it's where they sat on the bed, waiting. The room had a closet, a desk, a set of draws- everything. It was even illuminated by a window that was high above the ground, and let in some of the neon light from the outside. The bed was soft and springy. It even came with a fluffy blanket. Flinging yourself face-first into the soft fluff, you heard a faint chuckle from the doorway, and lifted your head slightly, surprise clear on your face as you felt the bed bounce beneath you for a moment. It's springy too. Contently, you rolled onto your back, stretching out the remaining aches in your joints and bones and letting out a long sigh.

You felt Silco's gaze on you, unmoving. Turning your head to look at your friend, you noticed he was still smiling- a rare expression for Silco, and yet one that suited him so well. He moved from where he leaned against the door and picked up one of the bags that had fallen to the floor. He didn't wear the coat anymore- he'd hung it up by the door on his way in. How kind of him. He was clearly surprised by how light this bag was, and glanced at you as he opened it,

"This is all you have? Cloth and-" He froze as you sat up, drawing your legs together to sit before him cross-legged, craning your head to look up at him,

"Places like this must cost a fortune, Silco," You said, suddenly wary of the luxury around you. Silco clearly wasn't listening, delicately unwrapping the faded material, and pulling out a switchblade from its confines, examined it. His reflection was distorted in the metal, and the blade was dull, and yet he still noticed the faint crimson glowing of his corrupted eye. The blade was so familiar to both him and you. He let his fingers graze the blade- it barely left an indent in his pads. His mouth, which had opened slightly, closed, and his gaze fell down on you, "You think I wouldn't have kept it?" You smiled, "You spent so much money on it I felt bad for throwing it out," You apparently also felt bad about throwing the wrapping- a cutting from a Piltover Gent who visited years ago, when tensions weren't so high. You reached out and took the knife from him, closing the blade back into its place, fingers tracing the "S&(N)" scratched into the side. His original carvings had been clean. These had been scratched over multiple times, but the white letters still stood out against the brown handle, refusing to disappear, "I also have the tools in here-" As you reached for the bag and pulled them out to show him, he took the wrapped tools, hearing them twinkle together, "Hey that's-"