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5 Times Montague and Silas Fought + 1 Time They Didn't - Part 2

Part 1

2 - Teeth / Into You - Grand Glacier

Word count: 4,380

Silas stands outside the Grand Glacier hotel debating if he should enter or cut his losses and go home. When he received the invitation in the mail, he was certain it was a mistake. Montague doesn’t speak to him in months then all of the sudden decides to invite him to a party at his stupid pompous hotel? The nerve on that guy. Who cares if it was only two months of silence? Who cares if Silas was the one who told Montague to fuck off in the first place?

The audacity on that stupidly handsome French fuck.

Against his better judgment, he pushes open the hotel doors and walks in. As expected, the place is filled with many of the higher ups of Helios as well as people the Society has most likely lied to in order to ensure their support. Silas doesn’t like it, but he knows he’s in no place to judge considering his parents did the same to build the empire he inherited. It just leaves a sour taste in his mouth knowing someone he cares deeply about is behind this. Surely if Montague was transparent from the start about the medallions and who else he was working with, maybe Silas could have talked him out of working with some the others (aside from Nisha since Silas believes she’s the one of the group who has her morals in order…sort of).

Silas notes a lot of the decorations have diamonds interwoven in them. He half wonders where the hell Montague got his hands on this much diamond, but the other half of him suspects it has to do with that special amulet of his. Whenever Montague got a little too upset about something, he’d notice the amulet glow briefly and the tips of Montague’s fingers became diamond encrusted. Though it really only happened if someone got too close to Silas. Montague never showed the true power of what the amulet could do, but Silas assumes his whole body gets covered in diamond armor. He’d be lying if it wasn’t kinda hot to see Montague’s typical stoic nature crack under pressure.

Silas stops, startled by the thought. Though, before he can fully process what possessed him to think of Montague that way, Frank headbutts him and uses his tail to point towards the grand staircase. Silas sees Montague standing there talking with Oscar. Normally, Montague has a gray overcoat he wears, but he’s settled for only wearing his dark undervest, black shirt, and silver pants.

“Sometimes, you’re a stranger in my bed Don’t know if you love me or want me dead”

“Do you expect me to go and sssspeak to him?” Silas says to Frank. “Becausssse I don’t like that idea.”

And I don’t like having to deal with you whining and pining over him all the time, Frank responds. So you have two choices: go talk to him or have my teeth sink into your neck.

Rude.

Silas shoves his pride aside and makes his way over to Montague. Oscar spots him first, immediately frowning. “I thought we had a strict ‘no reptiles’ policy?” Oscar wonders.

Montague turns, eyes lighting up. “Silas! You actually came!”

“I can get rid of him if you want,” Oscar growls.

Silas glares at Oscar while Frank hisses at him. “Doessss the overgrown lap animal think he can win?”

Oscar bares his teeth and his claws unfurl out of his paws. Montague places a hand on his chest, which immediately puts the tiger at ease. It makes Silas’s blood boil.

“Oscar, that is not necessary. Silas is a guest, and this is not how we treat guests,” Montague chastises.

The tiger grumbles. “Whatever…have fun with your little snake. I’ll be at the bar when you want some real company.” Oscar marches down the stairs, brushing past Silas.

He’d make a great statement rug in your master bedroom, Frank notes.

“Agreed,” Silas mutters.

“Sorry about him. He’s, well, protective…I guess,” Montague says. “Anyway, I am really happy to see you though. I will admit that I didn’t think you would come.”

“I wassss surprised to ssssee the invite,” Silas admits. “Two monthssss hearing nothing then ssssuddenly thissss?”

Montague chuckles. “Well, I wanted to call immediately after you left, but Nisha told me I should give you some space and time to decompress. She reminded me you prefer to not be cornered. I am sorry if it made it seem like I didn’t care. I did—I do—I just—I also got busy. With the Underground trying to thwart our progress…things have been messy. They have been a huge thorn in our sides.”

The Underground. Jonsey and Hope. Silas knew them well considering he’s been lending them a hand from time to time whenever they ask. An uncomfortable pit sits at the bottom of his stomach. He doesn’t like lying to Montague, but if he found out that Silas ended up choosing the opposing side in this fight…that might set him off the deep end. Nisha can only harvest and make so much wine at one time.

Silas is good at keeping a neutral expression. Frank usually is the one to betray his innermost thoughts, but he came to an agreement with the snake to make sure Montague never finds out about him taking Jonsey and Hope’s side until the time was right—whenever that may be.

“I bet they have, but I alsssso know you’re not one to go down without a fight.” Silas reaches up and flattens Montague’s collar. His hands linger for a moment and move down to Montague’s amulet. Before they can touch it, Montague takes his hands, smiling fondly at him. Silas didn’t notice it before, but Montague must’ve abandoned his gloves when he ditched his coat. They’re soft and warm, and Silas can picture himself leaning into Montague’s touch as he runs his hands through his hair.

He should’ve left the hat at home. Fuck.

“But close ain’t close enough ‘Til we cross the line”

“I would not do that…unless you want to turn to diamond,” Montague whispers, leaning farther into Silas’s personal bubble. “Though, I think some diamond would look great on you.”

So, your theory was right, Frank comments. And close your mouth before you start drooling.

Silas clenches his jaw. He gets the briefest whiff of lingering FlowBerry on Montague’s breath before he’s hit with Montague’s cologne, getting hints of apple, cinnamon, smoke, and bourbon vanilla.

Montague notices Silas’s falter and smirks. “What? Snake got your tongue?”

“I’m too ssssober for your shit,” Silas hisses. “If you’re going to be annoying all night, you besssst take me to the bar and get me drunk.”

Montague laughs and links arms with him. “As you wish.”

Frank takes the opportunity to slither off Silas’s shoulders to Montague’s. If snakes could purr, Silas is certain that’s what he’d be doing right now. Frank nuzzles against Montague’s cheek, earning a laugh from the man. Montague scratches Frank’s chin. “Hi, Frankie. Did you miss me?”

Frank licks Montague’s nose.

“I will take that as a yes,” Montague says with a chuckle. “Silas, are you seeing this?”

“I’m well aware of what my traitoroussss snake is doing,” Silas states. “You don’t need to rub it in.” He pauses. “However, he’ssss…a ssssentient being but alsssso an extension.”

Montague looks at Silas and tilts his head. “Extension?”

Every part of Silas screams to keep this to himself. He shouldn’t tell Montague. What if one of the other Society members overheard? Everything would be over, and there would be a massive target on his back.

But this is Montague. He wouldn’t…right?

Silas sighs and turns his gaze to the floor. “Of my feelingssss.” He hates how his cheeks flush. Silas would blame it on the alcohol…if he had any in his system.

“Push me away, push me away Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay”

Montague frowns. “Your feelings? I—” Realization flashes across his face. “You mean you—” He laughs. “Oh! Well, if you wanted to give me a kiss on my cheek, you would not hear a complaint from me. You are free to do that whenever you feel the urge to.”

Silas huffs. “You’re making me regret coming here.” Frank returns to Silas to give some comfort, assuring him that he won’t abandon him for Montague…probably.

Never thought I’d see the day you open up to someone, Frank teases.

Montague bumps hips with Silas before leading him down the stairs over to the bar. Other hotel guests and party goers move aside when they see Montague walking through the crowd. Some give them weird looks while others barely spare them a glance. Nevertheless, Silas doesn’t like the attention. Word of him being here will without a doubt get back to Hope and Jonsey. They knew of Silas’s complicated history with Montague because Hope did ask if they were in a situationship. Silas didn’t know how to answer that. Anyway, Silas hopes they know he won’t divulge any of their secrets because they know he won’t spill any of Montague’s secrets.

When they approach the bar, Silas stiffens when he sees the other Society members (sans the Peter guy…Silas still doesn’t really understand his role in the operation). Nisha and Oscar sit at the barstools while Valeria tends the bar from behind. Nisha gives Silas a polite smile while Valeria and Oscar glare—if looks could kill, Silas would be bleeding out on the ground.

“Monty…why is he here?” Valeria wonders, twirling her martini. “This is supposed to be a celebration! Why bring the buzzkill?”

“I invited him. He is a guest—my guest,” Montague states.

Was that a hint of possessiveness? Frank asks.

“And I expect you to treat him as such,” Montague continues. “Now, we are going to sit here and drink. If any of you have an issue with that, you can go elsewhere, got it?”

Oscar downs the rest of his drink and spares no second to fuck off elsewhere. Good riddance. Nisha makes no move to leave. Fine. Whatever. Out of the three, Silas likes her company the best anyway. Valeria, however, could get hit by her train. That would bring a smile to Silas’s face.

Montague leads Silas to the barstool next to Nisha, holding his arm as he sits to be a gentleman (or to embarrass Silas further in front of his other friends). Once Silas is situated, Montague walks behind the bar to make them both a drink. As soon as Montague’s within arms reach of Valeria, she takes the opportunity to snake her arm against Montague’s side and interlace their fingers.

“So name a game to play And I’ll roll the dice”

“I thought we were going to spend the rest of the party together!” Valeria whines. “I was really looking forward to it too, Monty.”

Silas bites his tongue to avoid making a comment.

Montague sighs and pulls his hand away. “Val, please. You promised you would not do this.”

“Do what? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Monty,” she purrs. “Maybe we could—”

“Valeria, I think those people who were spray painting people’s cars are back outside,” Nisha interrupts, also fed up with her antics. At least Nisha knew how to read a room. “Would you like to come with me and deal with them?”

Valeria’s eyes narrow. “Those shitheads never learn, do they?” She huffs. “We’ll continue this conversation later, Monty.” She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth then storms off towards the front doors.

Nisha finishes off her drink before giving Silas an apologetic look. “She’s—”

“I know. Thank you,” he says.

“Anytime.” She winks then follows after Valeria.

Silas turns back to Montague as he puts down two glasses and an entire bottle of FlowBerry Fizz. “Do you have a drinking problem?” Silas wonders.

“Usually when Val is trying to mark her territory, yes. It helps me calm down.” Montague pours them both a glass. “But on the flipside, I am not going to say no to a free supply of Fizz from Nisha. Her family really knows how to run a winery.” He takes a long sip.

“I feel like that’s ssssomething we should talk about,” Silas comments, swirling his wine. “Are you okay?”

Montague leans forward across the bar and grins. “Better now that you are here. I did miss you…a lot. I will admit that I had become accustomed to our consistent meetings back in Mega City. Seeing you was something I always looked forward to.”

Silas hums and sips his drink. He knows Frank is eyeing Montague, desperately wanting to slide close to him and rub his head against him, but for once, he’s behaving and staying by Silas—most likely only because Silas told Montague what Frank represents. Or maybe Silas is projecting. Maybe Silas wants to climb over the bar and—

He cuts off that train of thought with a long gulp of the Fizz.

“And I am sorry that my other friends have been less than kind to you, truly,” Montague continues. “They—”

“Not all of them,” Silas interrupts.

Montague chuckles. “Yes, Nisha. You know, she does ask about you from time to time. She thinks I have lost my charm now that we have drifted a bit apart.” He finishes off his drink then refills his glass.

As soon as Silas sets his glass down, Montague refills it too. “You’re really trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?” Silas asks.

“You asked me to, did you not?” Montague winks. “Something about me being too annoying to deal with sober? I am nothing if not a man of my word…and of my reputation.”

“Call me in the morning to apologize Every little lie gives me butterflies”

Silas’s chest flutters at those words. He grips the glass and makes the terrible decision to chug it. If Montague wanted to get him drunk then so be it. Silas likes the wicked grin that grows on Montague’s face as he watches Silas down the drink. He readily tops off Silas’s glass and joins in, probably eager to outdrink him.

Gradually, the bottle of wine gets down to the last bit, and Silas feels the pleasant buzz radiating through his body. He’s definitely going to pay for this tomorrow. “Sssso, why didn’t you call ssssooner?” Silas asks. He hates the uncertainty in his tone. Stupid booze.

“Like I said before…Nisha encouraged me to give you time to cool off.”

“Yeah, but…issss that all? You and Valeria sssseem closssse.”

Montague grabs the wine bottle and drinks the rest of it. “Yeah. You could say that. It…” He looks at Silas and studies his face with an odd expression.

Silas has never felt shameful or awkward under Montague’s gaze because usually it’s accompanied by a stupid grin. Though now, he feels self-conscious and unworthy. There’s almost a hint of desire behind Montague’s brown and blue eyes.

Then, Montague breaks eye contact and pulls a pair of glasses out of his pocket—the glasses Silas gave him back in Mega City at their last meetup before the world exploded.

Silas frowns and takes them. “You kept thesssse? All thissss time?”

“Yeah! It was like the last piece I had of you when I was unsure if you were alive,” Montague says. “I planned on giving them back sooner, but you left before I could. And I guess I was scared that I fucked everything up, so I continued to keep them. But you are here now, and I have no use for them now…now that I have you.”

“Oh, baby, look what you started The temperature’s rising in here”

Silas can’t help but break his stoic expression in shock at the revelation. He swallows, attempting to regain his composure. “Who ssssays you have me?”

Montague’s cheeks flush. “Well, um, not like that! I mean maybe—but we are here talking and being together and I think—I feel like we are back in Mega City.”

“And jusssst talking? You’ll have to try harder than that.”

“Touché.” Montague puts their empty glasses away and leans over the bar, invading Silas’s personal bubble again. “What can I do to prove myself?”

Silas says nothing, not trusting his voice to speak without wavering. Frank, however, takes it upon himself to lean forward and give Montague a lick dangerously close to his lips. Montague smirks. “I can do that but—” He stands up straight and walks around the bar to tower in front of Silas “—first we must build up to it. Skipping right to the end spoils the whole show, right? And we all know I like to do things right. I am your lavish host! Only the best for my star guest.” Montague holds his hand out to Silas, the smirk still plastered on his face.

He should slap the hand away since Montague’s being an ass, but his eyes look sincere…and a little ravenous. What’s up with that?

Silas inhales and takes Montague’s hand, causing the other man’s smile to bloom into something more loving. Montague laces their fingers together and leads him onto the colorful dance floor under the disco ball. Was the disco ball made of diamonds? Most likely. But Silas is more focused on how nicely their hands fit together and how relaxed Montague looks holding Silas’s hand over Valeria’s. With Silas, it’s firm but not tight—like he knows Silas won’t let go anytime soon. With Valeria, it looked suffocating—like any movement from Montague to get out of her grasp would cause her to dig her nails into his hand. He’d have to check Montague’s hand later to see if there are any marks.

Once they get in the middle of the dance floor, Montague wastes no time twirling Silas into his arms. He keeps their hands connected and places the other one on Silas’s waist. The touch burns, but in the way a steaming hot shower relaxes the muscles after a long day. Silas settles for putting his free hand on Montague’s shoulder. They stay almost at arm’s length until Montague pulls him closer, forcing Silas to reach around Montague’s neck to steady himself. Their hips bump and all the heat rushes to Silas’s cheeks.

“Ssssorry,” Silas mutters at their proximity.

“Nonsense.” Montague smiles. “I think my intentions are quite clear.” His hand remains on Silas, keeping them pressed together.

“Something in the way you’re looking through my eyes Don’t know if I’m gonna make it out alive”

Thankfully by now, Frank has slithered into Silas’s pack to avoid watching this unfold. Granted, he can still sense Silas’s thoughts if he wanted to, but Silas is fairly certain this is something he won’t want to witness.

Silas smells Montague’s cologne again and shivers. Oh, how he wishes he could taste Montague right now. Silas leans in close enough so his cheek brushes against Montague’s, and says, “You ssssmell intoxicating.”

Montague chuckles, sliding his hand so it rests at the small of Silas’s back. “I thought you would like it. Although, there is something I have been wanting to try.”

“Mmmm,” Silas hums, allowing Montague to lead in dancing to the music. For every step Montague takes forward, Silas takes one step back. “And what’ssss that?” Silas leans far enough back so he can look at Montague while keeping minimal distance between them.

Montague stops moving, basking in Silas’s gaze. “You.”

Silas notices they’ve migrated from the center of the dance floor to the edge where the stairs lead up to the rooms. For a moment, Silas doesn’t know what Montague means, but when Montague’s hands tense on his back and in his hand, Silas realizes.

“Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move Before I make a move”

It’s probably a mistake and a horrible idea that will certainly blow up in his face later. He’ll have to blame it on the alcohol later, but right now, Silas wastes no time bridging the gap between them. He cups Montague’s chin in the hand not being held captive by Montague and slots their lips together for a quick but desperate kiss. Their first kiss is by no means neat considering they’re still awkwardly holding hands, and Montague has a death grip on Silas’s lower back. If he holds on any tighter, he’s going to rip the jacket.

Not that he’d mind if Montague tore the jacket off. That would move things along.

Silas pulls back first, unsure if he overstepped. “Um…I— did I missssread that?”

Montague shakes his head. “Fuck no. But we should go somewhere more private.” He steps away from Silas and leads him up the grand staircase. They walk across the balcony over to what Silas assumes is Montague’s room. Down below, none of the party guests pay them any mind. Except, Silas catches Valeria’s eye, earning a fiery scowl from her, but next to her, Nisha gives him an approving nod.

Nisha’s validation is good enough for him.

Montague tears open the door, ushering Silas in before slamming it shut. No doubt everybody downstairs heard that. There’s a king bed tucked in the corner turret of the room. A desk sits to its right with a computer and three monitors. A painting of what looks like the hotel covered in snow hangs the same wall as the door—no surprise there. Another door leads to a bathroom and next to that stands a tall, lucious fireplace. The room isn’t as decorated as Silas would have thought, but then again, Montague was never one to hold onto many things with sentimental value—unless said item belonged to Silas apparently.

“Thissss where you take all your conquestssss?” Silas wonders.

Montague walks at Silas until he’s pressed against the wall. His hat falls to the side but neither of them pay it any mind.

Montague leans in, whispering, “Just you.” His gaze rakes across Silas’s face for a moment before he crashes his lips onto Silas’s.

Silas inhales, taking in that cinnamon smokey scent once more. He slides his hands up Montague’s arms and into his hair, running his fingers through it. Montague grabs the top of Silas’s jacket and unzips it, forcing him to shrug it off. Silas briefly breaks the kiss, earning a whine of protest from Montague.

“Sssso impatient,” Silas says, gently setting down the bag that has Frank.

Once the bag is on the ground, Montague grabs Silas’s hips again. “Forgive me for being antsy, but I think this has been a long time coming.”

Silas brushes his lips against Montague’s, smirking at the whine that escapes his mouth. “It hassss, hasssn’t it?”

“Fuck—you are cruel.”

Silas grins and pushes forward against Montague, connecting their lips again. He leads them near the bed as he fumbles with the buttons on Montague’s silky shirt.

“Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet”

He manages to get the last button undone and helps Montague out of it, tossing it to the side. Montague’s hands explore Silas’s chest for any buttons or something to take off his shirt, but it’s just a regular black turtleneck.

“Why did you insist on wearing this fucking shirt?” Montague huffs against Silas’s lips. “Makes it hard to get it off. Unless you want me to rip it off you.”

Silas laughs and pulls away. “Allow me.” Montague watches as Silas slowly lifts up the bottom of the shirt to expose his stomach.

“Fucking tease.”

“He pulls it over his head and the silver chain he wears falls into his bare chest. A shiver runs down his spine at the cool metal. Silas falls back onto the bed and looks up at Montague expectantly. “Better?”

“Much.” Montague leans down, placing a knee between Silas’s legs. “Hiding all this from me? Silas, how could you?”

“I’ve learned that a little mysssstery is good for you, Montague,” Silas says. His gaze moves to the amulet still around Montague’s neck. “Gonna turn me into diamond? I admit I would make a good statement piece.”

Montague’s cheeks flush and he quickly removes it, setting it to the side. “No. That would be—no.” He crawls further on top of Silas, using one hand to keep him steady above him and the other to trace a line along Silas’s chin.

Silas, now growing impatient himself, reaches around Montague’s neck and pulls him down into another kiss. Montague falters a bit when his hips land on Silas’s, but when Silas’s breath hitches against his lips, he regains composure.

“Just think—everything we could do,” Montague mutters between kisses. “We could be—unstoppable.”

Silas says nothing, not really sure where he’s going with this. Less talk. More kissing.

“If you’d just join us—me—”

Silas freezes underneath him. Montague begins trailing kisses across Silas’s chin and down his neck. He can’t be serious. Right now? He’s choosing to bring this up now?!

“—the Underground wouldn’t know what to do—”

For the love of everything—don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.

“—you’d make the Society a powerhouse—”

“Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth”

And suddenly…this isn’t fun anymore.

“Montague, stop. Get off me.”

“What—” Montague sits up with a confused expression. “What happened?”

“Did you lure me in here—into your bedroom just to trick me into joining the Ssssociety again?!” Silas demands, voice laced with venom. “I already told you no.”

Montague’s eyes widen. “Fuck—no! It just slipped out!” Montague exclaims. “Silas, please. Just forget it and go back to where we were. Please.” He leans in to kiss him again, but Silas puts a hand on his chest. “Silas.”

“No. Get off me. Now.”

Montague nods and scrambles off Silas. He offers a hand to help him up, but Silas slaps it away. Silas grabs his discarded shirt and jacket and angrily puts them on.

“Silas, please don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Silas turns to glare at him, eyes glossy with tears. “My feelingssss aren’t for your entertainment. Ssssave that for your other victimssss. Goodbye, Montague.” He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Frank slithers out of the bag and nuzzles against Silas, wiping the tears off his cheeks. I’m sorry, he says. I thought he was different.

Silas puts on his glasses and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Me too, but I guess people never change.”

Part 3