[ Silco doesn't particularly catch the plurality simply because it doesn't strike him as odd. Piltover has monogamy, of course, it's how they solidify their power, by creating houses and passing wealth and title down to their offspring. But it's not the same in the undercity.

No, what strikes him is the usual need: to be the best. The most valued, of many. But it's without particular jealousy. They've known each other a month or two, things are only newly unfolding between them. Silco knows that his history, with so few people allowed in it, is not the norm. ]

All right.

[ He props his chin in his hand, fingers covering his mouth. Considers his emotional response: it doesn't quite correspond to that logic. The drugs — the ReSculpt — does tend to twist the psyche towards insecurity. Irritating. He ignores it; if it bothers him once the withdrawals are past he'll revisit the topic. ]

My ex showed up, as it happens, so I do take your point.

[ Sometimes the world simply shifts on its axis and takes the best laid plans with it. ]

Vander.

[ There's a yes in his tone, the tip of his head. Silco at least seems unperturbed. Death doesn't stick here, so he can't just quietly make the problem go away, but he's got it handled. ]

He's agreed to a — truce. For Jinx's sake. Missed her whole teens and still considers himself her father. It's touching, really.

[ Silco does not seem touched.

He spears the pineapple he set aside with a fork and bites into it, considering the flavour more seriously now that it's not such a surprise. ]

Her parents were our best friends, once. They died when she was four, in our attempted revolution. And our relationship with them.

[ Those last words dry, bitter. Pain too old to really hurt anymore.

He finishes the pineapple, letting the silence hang for a moment. Just when it seems he mightn't be going to say more, and they can end this digression. ]

He blamed my explosives. Gave up on our dream. Co-operated with Piltover enforcers to bring the survivors to heel. Everyone returned to their miserable lives. I was furious, at the time, but I understand it better now. He would rather Jinx and her older sister live to experience a hard world than lose them fighting for a better one.

[ He'd made the same choice in the end. Is there anything so undoing as a daughter? ]

But no, we never co-parented. So I imagine this will be a learning experience for us all. But we weren't talking about my past.

[ Lightly impatient: ]

Everything, obviously.

[ He'd much rather hear it from Stephen than from someone else, too, especially since Jemima had been so unforthcoming. ]

Let's start with what you're talking around telling me.

[ Silco rolls his eyes so hard his neck actually moves. ]

Barely.

[ And, with insidious honesty: ]

If you won't give me specifics I'll go asking for them.

[ Network post: raise your hand if you or someone you know has fucked Stephen Strange. Silco's eyes flicker wide, innocent. ]

Was it men and women? Were any serious? Platonic? For a long time? Are you married?

[ Chin still in hand, rapid-fire questions accompanied with a stab of his other finger in the air like he's listing them off. It's important to know his competition. ]

[ Strange rattles off answers that really only lead to more questions and Silco gives him a flat look. The tip of his shoe taps Stephen's ankle beneath the table. ]

You're being infuriating again.

[ Though that doesn't usually result in a whole lot of talking, so perhaps it's a strategy. ]

[ Silco sips his wine. ]

I do.

[ Voracious and unashamed about it. But then he relents incrementally. ]

Only if you're comfortable.

[ With the telling, yes, but with the choice of time and place to tell, too. He can be patient. Neither of them are going to finish this food. ]

[ Silco commits this strange and all together too long list to memory, head tipping as he makes a mental schedule of instalments. It's a pleasing idea. He may be talking about other people, after all, but he's going to be talking about them with Silco. ]

The Christmas ghost.

[ Missing the Scrooge reference entirely, of course; his first exposure to Christmas has been this month past, enjoying the excuse to spoil Jinx. ]

But not here.

[ He pushes his chair back, gets up. Moves around the table to bend and take the kiss he's been thinking about for a while now. Long fingers curling into Stephen's tie, tugging. If they're going to talk about past lovers they're going to do it somewhere more comfortably entwined. ]

[ A little huff of amusement as Silco also remembers the armchairs, his sharp nose still right in close. ]

I think we can make do.

[ He picks the chaise solely because the bed feels like a step too far. It's still a pleasant little dinner date, low light, conversation — but, heady with wine and wanting, Silco nudges Stephen bodily into a chair more suitable for sprawling and climbs into his lap, drapes shamelessly over his chest and shoulders. ]

Better.

[ Low enough it's all rasp. He toys with the tie wound around his fingers, fidgeting, tucked too close for eye contact. Calm certainty betrayed by the rapid thrum of his pulse. ]

Go on.

He's not a ghost?

[ Disappointing. Obdurate as he is — as interested in all of this unequivocally as he is — Silco takes that hesitance as a cue. ]

Start with whoever's already here, then.

[ His words a buzz against skin, breath whispering along the collar. ]

The queen.

[ Oh, so he does know one - two, perhaps, Aegon only by his network appearance following his mother's death. Neither well. Aemond Targaryen is the closest he's gotten to that family, because Aemond is the one who's taken an interest in Jinx and is therefore surveilled.

Even that is enough to leave him a little bemused, though perhaps he shouldn't be. Of course Stephen would rub elbows with powerful Houses, he's exactly that sort. ]

She told me exceedingly little. I suspect she may have been trying to protect your privacy.

[ Despite requesting Silco blackmail Stephen with it; despite Stephen saying she hated him. Though with Vander here he understands a little better; sharing a history outside this place can make you protective of each other, of the secrets shared. ]

So. Curses and cults.