oleaeuropaea | IC INBOX (STICKS)

[Here's the thing. Vash has always been attracted to the grit and timbre of Wolfwood's voice. That doesn't get any less true when it's right up against his ear. In fact, one could say it's ten times more obvious given how breathy it sounds.

Needless to say, the shudder that rockets through Vash is a bodily one. Heat from a source entirely separate from the coffee surges through him, to the point that he can't help but wonder if a trip to the snowbank might soon be necessary.]

Mm - Mhm? [It comes out as little more than a feeble squeak. Kill him now.] Well, I'll - I'll be sure to make sure my fingers are nice and ready!

[Who knows! Depends on what kind of constitution ol Vash here has, because on the outside, Wolfwood seems as cool as a cucumber. They've made their feelings for each other known, after all, which gives Wolfwood free reign to get close like this however and whenever he pleases. And right now, that's in the form of brushing his lips against Vash's ear, sort of mumble-whispering into it.

You know, like a normal person would.]

...your fingers?

[There's an amused lilt to his tone, and his breath puffs against Vash's ear as he laughs against it. He is being a shit on purpose.]

For the piano, right?

[And like butter, Vash melts. His weight practically evaporates, leaving him boneless against Wolfwood. Another small noise leaves him, close to a whimper but not quite. He notices his fingers beginning to clench, and quickly moves to set the coffee down. He knows the ceramic won't survive the force of his cybernetic limb, when it comes down to it.]

The piano - [He nods at first, only to stop short. His head angles, but doesn't lift. There's no way Wolfwood would be able to see the brow he's quirking but... he does it anyway.] Wait, what about the piano?

[...and again, Wolfwood laughs. Vash has a funny way of making him do that, turns out. He's so genuinely...himself that he can't help but find himself thinking "god, you're a dumbass" in the most affectionate way possible. He clicks his tongue- again in Vash's fucking ear- before finally breaking the tension by actually pressing a kiss to Vash's temple instead of just teasing him with a barely-there touch.]

Yeah, that's what I thought.

[What's that supposed to mean-

Well, it's said as Wolfwood sits back just a fraction so he can take another nonchalant sip of coffee, siiip.

He wants to see what Vash might do.]

Hey - hey wait! Where are you going?!

[Vash immediately shoots up, straight as an arrow. he stares at Wolfwood with wild eyes, having the audacity to somehow look betrayed by his movements. For a long moment, he holds the man's gaze, trying to read his intentions, before giving up. Whatever it is doesn't matter.

What does is the fact that Vash is now clambering onto his damn lap, for real this time. The coffee is ignored, and hopefully the dog is thoroughly distracted. They have a few minutes, and Vash is absolutely not going to let this go with a simple tease.

Once he's settled, though, he... Seems to lose sight of his plan. Beyond crossing his arms tight over his chest and jutting out his lower lip he doesn't really do anything?

Whadda hell?]

Got anything to say for yourself?

[They are both lucky that Wolfwood’s reflexes are such that he’s able to get his coffee onto a flat surface before Vash literally clambers into his lap, hello. Angelina isn’t paying them any mind currently as she’s found her little dog bed and is chewing her toy in it, oblivious to the way her owner looks back at Vash slightly aghast because of all the things he expected to do, straddling his lap was NOT one of them.

And, well. Now he’s here, and he’s making it Wolfwood’s problem, as his smirk turns from easy going to shit eating.]

Could ask you the same thing.

[He leans his shoulders back a bit so he’s at a slightly lower angle than Vash, looking a bit up at him instead of directly on. He’s long since shed his coat since they’re inside the warm house, so it shirt is just. Open, while they do this.

His grin broadens, showing teeth now as he finally reaches out both hands and lays them, finger by finger in a teasingly slow manner until his hands lay flat, against Vash’s hips. An absolutely snatched waist this man has, for men to hold.]

Why? Didja’ want more?

[This may have been a problem. He can't say what Wolfwood expected but he's certainly handling the change in position in stride. Even through the fabric of his thermal — his own jacket also discarded — each digit feels like a brand against his skin. A low noise is barely choked back and warped into a tight laugh before he can make too much of a scene.

And that, of course, is to say nothing of the angle this vantage point provides. Wolfwood's shirt, or lack thereof, provides little to the imagination. It's a difficult battle, resisting the urge to scrape his nails down that span of muscle and warm brown skin. He settles, instead, for draping both arms over his shoulders, settling in such a way that he can push his shirt all the more open.]

What makes you say that?

[He leans down, so that their foreheads are just barely brushing. He angles his nose to just glance over the tip of Wolfwood's, before shifting so that they share the same breath.]

Am I givin' you the wrong idea or somethin'?

Mmm...no. Not exactly.

[Ugh, he's cute. It makes Wolfwood wonders if Vash has ever had difficulties leaving towns he visits back home, not because of any of the normal reasons, but because the young adults there want a piece of him. Surely it's happened in the 150 years he's been on the planet, yet he wonders just how many of them got to see Vash like this. Looking at them with enough adoration in his eyes it would make anyone feel undeserving. Instead of dwelling on that, though, Wolfwood wants to focus on making up for how shitty he's been over the past few weeks. Sure, Vash has made some missteps too, but it takes two to tango, and Wolfwood is nothing if not painfully aware of his shortcomings.

He wants Vash to feel wanted. Loved. Like he's worth something, being in this world. That his existence isn't the blight he's convinced himself it is, but instead a series of events far beyond his control. There's a difference between taking responsibility for your actions, and embracing them.

Given how close Vash is now, it's easy for Wolfwood to use his grip on his hips to tug him even closer, shifting his torso towards him so that they meet comfortably in the middle. It might be smarter to be on the bed if they're going to do this, but let it be known that there's something to be said about having somebody sit on your lap backwards in a chair. He's not even sure Vash realizes what he's doing to him, Jesus-

They are almost flush, but not quite. There's still a gap ~~room for Jesus~~ between them for now as Wolfwood chases Vash for a kiss, his lips tasting of a uniquely bitter mixture of coffee and cigarettes. It's chaste, at first, until Wolfwood decides that "kissing" is being upgraded to "making out", as is evident by the way his tongue slips past his lips for a taste of Vash's own. Coaxing, inviting.]

[Wolfwood isn't wrong. Here Vash is, staring at him like he's hung the stars. Like Wolfwood had been the one laying on the affection, instead of Vash barging straight into his space. In a lot of ways, he had. It would have been one thing if the invitation to stay with him had just been that - the sharing of an empty house. But Nick had looked past his self-destructive isolation and done something to make it a home. It wasn't perfect, it was still pretty pathetic in all honesty, but it was something.

Vash has many reasons to be grateful for the man, but this is just one more. The thought that he doesn't deserve the kindness runs through his head still, but it's a voice that grows smaller and smaller by the day.

Especially when he is now presently distracted by the taste of Wolfwood on his lips, now plying into his mouth. His lips part without complaint, his own tongue dancing over the other in an attempt to steal more of a taste. He shifts his hips only enough to be truly comfortable with their now far more intimate position.

One of the hands draped around those shoulders shifts. It lifts upward, clenching almost desperately at Wolfwood's hair. The strands likely pull for a minute before Vash realizes what he's doing. It's still a tight grip, though, sorry about it.

The other, meanwhile, slides down his chest. He lets himself finally indulge in the desire to feel his skin. His fingers dance over the planes of his pecs, fanning out over the space at first, while his thumb weaves a more soothing circle against it.]

[Sorry? He could almost laugh. There's nothing at all to be sorry about here, especially not as Vash gets a little braver with reciprocating. Now it's Wolfwood's turn to feel that sudden rush of heat through his body at Vash's touch, racing underneath the skin all the way to his extremities and back. He exhales against Vash's lips a breathy moan, low and reverent, his thumbs pressing in against Vash's hipbones.

Of course, he can't just kiss Vash and keep quiet about it. They have to breathe eventually, and when they break just long enough to inhale, Wolfwood smirks against the corner of Vash's mouth.]

It's okay. You can pull harder, I won't bite.

[Vash could probably near rip his hair out and he'd thank him for it, let's be honest here. In the meantime, Wolfwood is indulging too in a different sort of way, one of his hands on Vash's hip wandering around towards his back. His fingers catch along his beltloops, tugging on them playfully, until he finds the bottom edge of his thermal and slips his fingertips underneath it, pressing them directly to the bare slip of skin just at the small of his back.]

[Only a huff makes it out of Vash in response. A huff and, of course, a quirked brow. Wolfwood may want it, but it's a hell of an ask for one Vash the Stampede to deliberately do harm, even if it is being asked for. The cognitive dissonance makes his already spinning head start to ache.

It's swallowed down, at least, in favor of pulling just a little tighter. He's sure it's nowhere near what Wolfwood could tolerate, but. Look. He's trying, see. Even if those attempts are seriously defanged by the fingers that first press hard against the jut of his hips, then trace upward over the vulnerable skin of his now exposed back. The air might be warmer inside, but there's still a chill within the air.]

Nick - [The sound he makes is both more and less embarrassing than it could have been, when he thinks about it. He wasn't the first one to let out such a deeply affected noise. However, Wolfwood wasn't the one crooning his name over a simple damn touch.]

Y'feel... Y'feel good, y'know that?

[God help him, he's going to ramble.]

[Wolfwood isn't out here to make Vash do something he'd rather not, of course...but he is, maybe, just a tiny little bit masochistic sooooo, if Vash DID want to yank on his hair, or claw bloody lines into the backs of his shoulders, he sure as hell wouldn't be upset about that. And while Wolfwood hasn't yet gone further with his hands than teasing along the outside, they're definitely still there. More than mere suggestion.

The way Vash sighs his name like a prayer is addictive. So much so that he's inclined to tug Vash a little closer to him again, just enough so that their foreheads rest together.]

Yeah? Tell me more.

[He's not going to pass up the opportunity to hear what's on Vash's mind, especially when he knows there has to be a lot tumbling around in that big head of his. He'll continue to rub slow circles against the small of his back in the meantime, occasionally pressing a kiss to his face here...there...being overtly distracting.]

[If you thought Vash was struggling to speak before, then what comes out next is absolute nonsense. It's little more than a squeak, half of a mumble that might have been "Wolfwood," all culminating in him burying his face in Nick's hair. That is his attempt at saying more.

Verbally at least.

He does to his best to reciprocate, however. His thighs tighten around either side of Wolfwood's, keeping his balance as he rocks his hips against the other man's. It's something of a struggle, seeing as how his whole body is arching forward beneath the touch on his back.

It's been years since anyone's touched him. It's been years since he's let himself be touched. And now it shows in the faint way he trembles over something so innocuous.]

[Oh? Oh.

The lack of verbal response tells Wolfwood everything he needs to know, as well as the way Vash hauls off and just rocks his hips into him with how sharply his back is arching at merely being touched there. He's almost a bit worried that Vash might just fall backwards off his lap if he isn't careful, but with Wolfwood holding his hips and Vash clamping down on his hips with his thighs...he's pretty sure he'll be fine.

Well. Relatively speaking, depending on your definition of fine-]

Oh? You like that, huh?

[Wolfwood purrs between them, suddenly stopping with three fingers flat against the very base of Vash's spine, just above his waistband. Then, from there, he slowly drags his fingertips upward, each one bumping along each individual vertebrae on its way up underneath that thermal of his.

Now...Wolfwood, of course, doesn't know what the extent of Vash's experience with other people intimately is, if there's any at all. It could genuinely go either way, he thinks. Obviously it never came up, before. The question of that may come up later, depending on how much he can get Vash to unravel here.

He's curious.]

[What happens next is curious indeed. At first, that tremble turns to outright shaking as Vash lets out a gasp. In that first moment, it's a whole bout of sensitivity. It takes a turn, however, as Wolfwood's fingers drag across a rougher patch of skin, or perhaps even a strip of metal. In that second, the fingers still twined in his hair tighten once more — impulse and instinct, rather than anything.

It takes him little more than a second to recover, but then Vash is reeling back. The fluster on his face, the near rapture, has been replaced with something a little more shadowed and guarded. He holds his arms in front of his chest, not defiant but almost defensive.]

W-wait. Hang on, Nick.

[He forces himself to take a deep breath. When he's managed to get a grip on himself, he lowers his hands. They fall to the hem of his thermal, gripping it but not yet pulling up.]

We should - get this out of the way before we go any further. [He glances away, not quite willing to meet Wolfwood's gaze. He doesn't want to see the revulsion there.]

It ain't pretty under there, is all I'm saying. We're... probably better keeping it on, honestly. Not that the legs are much better but...

[He heaves a shrug.]

[To his credit, when Vash pulls back, Wolfwood stops immediately. He pulls his hand away entirely, as a matter of fact, instead letting them both settle back around his hips again, mostly to make sure he doesn't actually tumble off his legs onto the floor. It was hard to miss that sudden shift in texture, and Vash had been so quick to flinch away that he hadn't had a chance to properly process what he was feeling, exactly. Now he's left wondering what might have happened- did he go too far?- until Vash mentions "getting this out of the way".

...

Well, now. That could mean almost anything, to a bunch of weird scars to some sort of Plant anatomy he isn't prepared for. It shows in his face as his eyes shift from the bottom edge of his thermal up to look Vash in the eye, not judging so much as...questioning.

His thumbs brush along the sharp lines of his hipbones, idly. If it's bad enough that Vash is volunteering to just keep his clothes on forever...mm.]

You can show me.

[Wolfwood says he can, but that doesn't mean he should. There is a very real possibility that whatever attraction had sparked between them could go fizzling out. He wouldn't blame the man for being revolted by the gnarled hunk of flesh that he was. It was the price of the life he led — wandering town to town being the most reviled name on the planet, all while refusing to bare his fangs.

The only reason Vash decides to lift his shirt at all is the fact that he'd rather have it happen sooner, rather than later. It would be a terrible thing, for them to patch things up only to fall apart once more, but he wouldn't blame Wolfwood. It wasn't pretty.

The thermal comes up over his head, and is promptly set aside, still within arm's reach. He resists the urge to cover himself up, hiding the now bare skin from Wolfwood's eyes. The cold doesn't help matters, sending gooseflesh rising up over nearly every inch of him.]

If you want me to put it back on, just say so.

[With the way Vash is acting like he's about to present Wolfwood with a wild animal or something, he's expecting it to be pretty bad, whatever is under there. Nothing could have really prepared him for how bad, though.

Wolfwood has his share of scarring on some parts of his body, which Vash will more than likely see if they get past this point. He, too, has been injured to the point of death over and over again, the only difference being that he has a serum that can heal those wounds over as if they'd never happened. Early on, when he was in the midst of the experiments, he knows damn well that the meds weren't working on him at first. Those scars never fully healed. Those are a reminder of what he's been fighting for and against this entire time. But those pale in comparison to this.

Vash...some parts of him seem almost like they're barely hanging on. Huge chunks of flesh are missing. Parts have been bolted, stapled, and stitched back together. Metal plates embedded in his skin where normal surgery must not have been possible. Scar upon scar, literally too many for him to possibly count, laid bare for Wolfwood to see. He can't hide it, he does look shocked by what he sees.

But...the shock doesn't last for long. It slowly melts into something else, as one of his hands comes up to very tentatively brush along one of those scars that cut super deep around his torso, where he'd probably been shot fatally at one point. His brows knit together with sympathy. Anger, for Vash's sake, that he'd been hurt this badly. It has nothing to do with looks. Not even remotely.

Then, brown eyes slowly shift back up to meet blue.]

You really think this is gonna scare me off? After everything we've been through?

[He knows that look, and at least he has the decency to not be surprised. Even in his kindest of fantasies, he hadn't seen this ending in adoring glances and lovestruck words. What Vash has been through isn't pleasant, or kind. Hell, some of it probably wasn't the most ethical. But when someone's bleeding to death, missing a nipple and half of your ribs are exposed, there isn't much to do than to staple metal down and hope the latent plant powers will do the rest.

His body shies away as Wolfwood touches him, but only initially. Tentatively, he allows himself to sink into the touch. It's unfamiliar — the last time he'd been with someone, more than half of these scars hadn't existed — but it's not unwanted. Judging by the way he shudders, it's actually appreciated.]

I hope not... [Vash laughs, but it sounds strained, like he's been holding his breath. Probably because he has.] But I wouldn't blame you if it did.

[Since Wolfwood hasn't sent him away yet, Vash allows himself a little comfort. He sinks back into their embrace, one arm once again draping over his shoulder. The other slides up to cradle his jaw.]

We can't all be as handsome as you, Nick.

[As Vash reaches a hand up to trace his fingers along Wolfwood's scruffy jaw...he scoffs.]

Fuck off with that. [Ah-] You're plenty ~handsome~. These scars don't take away from that.

[Sure, they're bad. They're ugly. It's not conventionally attractive, but who on the planet is? Wolfwood doesn't wear socks with his shoes, why does Vash LIKE this man?

Wolfwood is tracing other scars now, gently, carefully...like he's dealing with a frightened deer. Fingers brush the edge of metal. He feels a few bolts here and there.]

...I'm gonna say something really sappy, so you'd better appreciate it. But.

Bein' handsome ain't always skin deep. Attractiveness comes from inside the house, too. [Said as he pokes a finger into Vash's sternum, to make a point.] ...and you're about as hot as they come, in that regard.

[What Wolfwood says is about as far from expected. He reels back (away from that sharply jabbing finger), eyes blown wide and brows practically scraping his hairline. His lips part with a pithy comment back, only to press into a thin line just as quick. His throat bobs as he swallows down his gut reaction, breath shaking with the effort.]

Since when - [Vash cracks half of a smile.] - were you such a romantic, Nick?

[He shouldn't be surprised. There's so much they don't know about each other, things they weren't allowed to learn when they were just going fight to fight. Even here, they haven't been afforded the luxury of getting to know each other. Not until now.]

What other fancy things do you have to say, huh?

[Is he trying to distract himself from those words? From the conversation at hand? It's quite possible. But he also can't help but marvel, too. Nicholas D Wolfwood is on another level.]

Since forever. Obviously.

[He smirks, able to tell that he really got to Vash with that one. He hopes in a good way, but if not, well...maybe Vash is just going to have to unlearn a lot of bad habits in regards to thinking negatively about himself, and if that means Wolfwood has to keep constantly reminding him of all the ways he is good...then he guesses he'll just have to, won't he?

With another slight tilt of his head, Wolfwood reaches out again. This time though, instead of touching any of those scars, he's reaching up to take his turn to cup the side of Vash's face, brushing a thumb along his cheekbone.]

I've got plenty more where that came from, if you'll let me. Point being...I don't care about any of this shit, blondie. I had a feeling you'd be all chewed up somehow. Ain't like I'm not.

[It's. Nowhere NEAR as bad, but...the similarities are there, he gets it.]

And I'm only halfway here because of your pretty face.

C'mon...

[He leans his head into those hands. Every bump, cut, and callus is treasured as it scrapes against the plane of his face. The sigh he exhales is bone deep, but it isn't entirely weary. With it goes at least a few of the doubts he harbors. They might sneak back with time, but for now he'll be able to savor the moment that much better.]

's probably enough bein' all caught in my head, don't you think?

[He leans forward, tracing his nose over the span of Wolfwood's jaw, before finally placing a kiss on his chin, on the corner of his mouth, and then on his lips. Each one is soft, tender despite their position. That face is kept cradled just the same as Wolfwood cradles him.]

Though maybe we should move before we get too comfortable. Beds are probably much nicer, don't you think?

[To that…Wolfwood snorts.]

Was wondering if you’d say that before you fell off my lap.

[He’s been envisioning Vash eating shit this entire time, honestly. Probably for the best though that they do take this to the bed, since it’s obvious now they want to do a bit more heavy petting, if nothing else.

With a heavy breath and a reluctant sigh, Wolfwood draws his hands back so Vash can get up, and the moment he does…Angelina comes rushing over at the sight of people standing like play??? Is it play time how???

…hm.

Okay hold on, don’t mind as he literally scoops you into his arms there, Vash, turning to carry you off to bed with the puppy hot on his heels. Just full on bridal carrying him to bed, to which he’ll toss him unceremoniously onto the mattress before scooping a very wiggly Angelina in his arms.]

Hang on for me for like, five minutes. I need to take care of this.

[Angelina BARKS at Vash. Hi Vash she loves you

And then he’s off brb he’ll be back to get his dick wet wait for him—]

[What else can Vash do but laugh. First it comes in exasperation as Angelina takes notice, even if he can't fault her sweet little heart for wanting to play. Then, it's breathless and giddy as he's lifted up and whisked away. One final laugh, straight from the belly and rife with amusement, is offered as Wolfwood rushes out the door.

As the laughter fades to silence, though, unease settles in. He's certain he'll be back, he has no reason to doubt. But the longer he lays there, alone with his thoughts, Vash can't help but feel... empty. Afraid.

So he does what he can. Sensual as it might be to have Wolfwood strip him down, it'll also take too much time. So Vash focuses on pulling his boots off, then his socks, and finally his pants. He leaves his underwear on for the sake of a little romance at least.

Unfortunately, the lack of clothing leaves him rightfully chilled. He doesn't want to set the wrong impression by burrowing under the covers so he reaches for the next best thing. He pulls on Wolfwood's blazer, bundling himself up within it as best as he can. It doesn't do a lot, but at least it smells like him.

It's enough to keep his nerves at ease as he waits for Wolfwood's return.]

This is Vash's. Uh. Journal thing? Is everyone seeing this? Hello -
UNREAD E-MAILS (99)	VOICEMAILS (99)	Vash the Stampede: IC INBOX

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cw: child experimentation

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just gonna slap that NSFW tag on here now since...