[Over the course of 150 years, Vash has met with a great many souls. He's made connections, some more literally than others. He's felt the minds of his sisters, fused with them in an attempt to heal their wounds. There have been people who have invited him into their home, broken bread with him, shared a drink.
And yet across those many, many decades, Vash has never felt a connection like this. He's never felt so known, so welcome, so loved, at least not in this capacity. He's had family and friends, but never a partner. Never another part of his soul. It's the exact sort of dribble that he knows Wolfwood would roll his eyes at, but in the privacy of his own mind, he can think as much.
In that same vein, he can't help but wonder if he actually deserves the croon of his name, even as he selfishly drinks down that kiss. Even as his hips rise to meet each thrust, filling the air around them with a carnal sound. Wolfwood treats him like an angel, some divine thing. He's used to being seen as divinity in an abstract sense, thanks to the gospel of the plant worshippers. But even as he thinks it, he knows that whatever they've cobbled together is different.
It's mutual. Because even as Wolfwood sings Vash's praises, the opposite has happened. This is a holy man above him, and every moan feels like a confession. Every embrace feels like salvation.]
Nick - [His chest feels tight, in the same way the heat in his abdomen feels like it's about to explode outward. Of course he'd be the type of person to tear up in bed. He can already hear the grumbling but -] Thank you. Thank you.
[Over the course of a century, home has become much more abstract. Until tonight.]
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And yet across those many, many decades, Vash has never felt a connection like this. He's never felt so known, so welcome, so loved, at least not in this capacity. He's had family and friends, but never a partner. Never another part of his soul. It's the exact sort of dribble that he knows Wolfwood would roll his eyes at, but in the privacy of his own mind, he can think as much.
In that same vein, he can't help but wonder if he actually deserves the croon of his name, even as he selfishly drinks down that kiss. Even as his hips rise to meet each thrust, filling the air around them with a carnal sound. Wolfwood treats him like an angel, some divine thing. He's used to being seen as divinity in an abstract sense, thanks to the gospel of the plant worshippers. But even as he thinks it, he knows that whatever they've cobbled together is different.
It's mutual. Because even as Wolfwood sings Vash's praises, the opposite has happened. This is a holy man above him, and every moan feels like a confession. Every embrace feels like salvation.]
Nick - [His chest feels tight, in the same way the heat in his abdomen feels like it's about to explode outward. Of course he'd be the type of person to tear up in bed. He can already hear the grumbling but -] Thank you. Thank you.
[Over the course of a century, home has become much more abstract. Until tonight.]
Fuck, I'm so close. 'm sorry -