oleaeuropaea | IC INBOX (STICKS)

[Someone is a bit too distracted by the show going on to respond right away. Wolfwood doesn't leave a lot to the imagination when it comes to his attire, at least not on the upper half. This is one of the few mysteries left to be revealed, and Vash is absolutely not letting anything get in the way of the show.

And yes, part of enjoying the show is seeing with his hands. It's hesitant, starting just below the pecs and dragging downward. The touch is gentle, treating Wolfwood like fragile glass rather than the killing machine he was made to be. Vash doesn't know if that's the right call, or if it might offend, but right now he wants to err on the side of caution.

Oh, right. He should say something - actually respond other than the awkward breath of a laugh he offers up. His gaze slides away, cheeks tinging with the faintest inkling of humiliation.]

It's been a few years. [He waits a moment, then adds -] Or maybe decades. And it only happened the once.

[He doubts Wolfwood would ever mock him outright for it, but he can't help but feel ashamed all the same.]

What about you?

[No, it doesn't offend him. Honestly...it's nice to be treated like this for a change. Like he isn't the killing machine he was made to be, because that wasn't something he ever wanted, nor asked for. He was forced into it. Forced to mold his life and very existence around it, making it all he knows. So, to be shown a sort of softness of this caliber is to be given something Wolfwood had torn away from him at a very young age. Something he could never fully reclaim, not on his own.

His features soften a little as Vash explores the planes of his body. He is very well built- unsurprising, given the heavy gun he carries constantly- and unlike Vash, he seems to have plenty more dark body hair across his chest and beyond that he doesn't bother upkeeping. There are also parts where hair doesn't grow, parts where scarring discolors the normally soft brown skin. An inward shudder passes through him at the sensation of Vash's touch, his gaze following his fingers until Vash deigns to speak up, prompting him to look back at him now that he's taken his top off entirely. He'll get to his slacks in a moment.]

I have. S'been a while for me, too. They weren't really times I particularly cared to remember.

[One night stands, all of them. Wolfwood can't be expected to upkeep proper relationships, not with the kind of person he is. He never saw those people again, and he doubts they even remember him. Transactional, nothing more. There...just wasn't anything there beyond a means to an end.

So, perhaps in that regard, he's out of his element too.]

...but this is different. I mean it.

[vash is silent as Wolfwood explains his background. It isn't an awkward sort, not one filled with resentment or doubt. He simply listens, perhaps even clinging to each word as it's spoken. The truth is that Vash has had the chance to learn precious little about where Nick has come from. He can make guesses, as well as generally assume that around 75% of what he'd been through wasn't pleasant. But the little details like these are nice. They tell him what he wants to know about the man he's come to care for.

In the time that he speaks, those fingers work to map out each scar. They're thumbed over with an almost reverent delicacy. These are the fragile parts of the invulnerable Nicholas D. Wolfwood. They're a reminder that despite his resilience, he can be hurt. And for Vash, it helps him remember not to cause the harm he had before again.

When he does turn the subject back to Vash, he glances up. A small smile takes his lips, far from offended or conflicted.]

I know. [Vash was often plagued with self-doubt, that was true. But there were certain things that he couldn't deny. Wolfwood moving all of his stuff into what was now their home is one of those things.

Shifting once more, the hands exploring Wolfwood's body rise up. He cups the man's face, drawing him forward until their lips can meet. It's a fleeting, but reassuring kiss.]

I trust you.

Pffft.

[He can't help it. The way Vash kisses him, all genuine and sincere, after saying he can trust Wolfwood...

Well, they already had this conversation. There's no room for doubt between the two of them anymore. Worries and insecurities, yes, but if there's one thing that Wolfwood's been fighting for, it's Vash's continued trust. He doesn't intend to lose that.]

Alright, alright...I should probably lose the rest of this, then.

["This" being his pants, which he unbuttons, zips, and pulls off with little fanfare. His legs aren't much different than the rest of him: nowhere near as battle damaged as Vash's, but plenty enough to tell a story. Very hairy. He's also a boxers man, unsurprisingly-

Now it's just the two of them sitting mostly-naked on top of Vash's mattress, in a house that's thankfully kept warm by a fireplace. It's not exactly the most...romantic start, considering the position they were in earlier, but they still need to go about this carefully. They're both damaged in different ways, after all.

Wolfwood leans back a little on his haunches, taking a moment to really look Vash over.]

I'll be honest with you. I don't even really know where to start. ...but I think I got some ideas, if you'll let me.

[Naturally, Vash scrapes his gaze over the span of Wolfwood's body, taking his mostly nude form in from shoulder to ankles. There's never been any question that he's handsome, but the fact that it's reaffirmed is nice.

It should say something about Vash's rapidly improving comfort levels, that he isn't at all unnerved by that scrutinizing gaze. He shifts a little, but it's more for the coy effect than actually being uncomfortable.

That question does give him pause, though. It's been long enough that he hasn't exactly thought about the differences in his body, or at least how they compared to a human. He draws his own fingers down to his waistband, thumbing over the waistband of the boxers he himself wore.]

You can do whatever you want, but... [His smile is just a little awkward.] It might not be quite what you're expecting.

Oh yeah?

[Well, Vash is already sitting at the head of the bed, with Wolfwood having plopped himself down on the foot of the mattress. It means that he's got the perfect angle to literally crawl his way over to where Vash is, urging him to lean back against the pillows by proximity alone. And if that isn't enough to convince him, maybe the hand pressed into the center of his chest will.]

We'll just see about that.

[Said like a man who has no fucking clue what he's about to get himself into-

That's for future Wolfwood to worry about, though. Present Wolfwood is a little more preoccupied with getting Vash to relax, to lean back a bit so he can get back to kissing him like they had been when they were in that chair together. A kiss that, while no less passionate than the last, doesn't actually linger overly long this time. Wolfwood has his attention shifting elsewhere, as one hand reaches up to trace the line of his jaw up into the side of his hair, his hand cradling his head there as he noses at the bare slope of Vash's neck.]

You might be scarred to hell everywhere else...but this is untouched.

["This" being his neck, protected by the high collar of his thermal. Pristine, unblemished...Wolfwood presses his lips there once. Then again. He murmurs between kisses, his teeth dragging against the hollow of his throat.]

This is mine.

[Vash goes easily, and without complaint — even if he does briefly consider acting up, just to feel that palm get a little rougher with him. Maybe next time, though. Right now, he's content to bask in the pleasure of just being touched and tended to. Especially once those lips fall over him.

It really is like picking back up. Despite the interrupting and brief interim, he's no less wound up as he was before. And now, he can show it all the better. Even as Wolfwood's hands mouth works him, Vash's own sweep upward. He fans over the span of his chest, muttering one faint apology at the chill of the metal there.

Anything he's begun to work up to stops short as that growl hits his ears. He responds, at first, with nothing more than a keening whimper. He's never been the possessive type, and certainly never entertained the idea of being possessed. But Wolfwood makes it sounds so good.

He tips his chin upward, baring his neck all the more.]

All - ah - All yours, Nick.

[Every inch of him could be Wolfwood's. He didn't even have to ask.]

[Haha it is PROBABLY for the best that this is happening in a world where Nai is not yet here. Because- at least for the time being- there is only one person who would make such a claim to Vash, and that's Wolfwood himself. He can't help but feel a little pleased surge, a prideful swelling in his chest at that confirmation. Again, these bozos haven't used terminology for each other yet like "partner" or- god forbid- boyfriend, yet the sentiment still seems to be there, and Wolfwood...really likes it. He really likes it.

About as much as he likes those little desperate sounds Vash makes whenever he's touched, however slight. He did say he's done this before...but only ever once. It seems improper to pry about it when they're in the middle of it themselves, but Wolfwood has to wonder how that might have gone to leave Vash all flighty like this about being vulnerable with someone else in bed. To say that he'd blame him wouldn't be true at all, though. Wolfwood...gets it, even if he's sure his own experiences don't exactly perfectly align.

He decides, then and there, that whatever he does he's going to make this worth Vash's while. To make him see that he didn't make a mistake, letting Wolfwood in. And that starts the moment he tilts his head back, giving Wolfwood room to latch onto the skin where his pulse races the hardest, bound and determined to suck a hickey there. He kisses him hard, a press of lips that gives way to a biting sting that lasts for only a moment before he's quickly pulling back and soothing the spot with the flat of his tongue, licking a stripe over it before he dips back down into Vash's clavicle, his other arm slipping ever-so-casually around Vash from behind.]

[The sensation Wolfwood immediately elicits is vivid, to say the least. His whole body trembles, then outright shudders with the pleasure that rolls through his form. He's used to pain, of which there is some as the skin breaks and bruises, but the way it mixes with pleasure is as foreign as it is enjoyable.

For once, he's grateful for the fact that his healing is greatly diminished. He'll be able to wear the mark that lingers with, buried beneath fabric though it might be. It gives him a sense of belonging, of purpose and home that is probably far too sentimental for the moment they're sharing, but screw it.]

N-Nick - [He croons the name in a way that's both desperate and heated. He underlines with words by allowing the hand of flesh to twine within his hair and tug once more. It's a firmer grasp this time, certainly less controlled. And it feels so good. His body rises obediently when it's bidden to do so, though he has to resist the urge to shove his chest further into Wolfwood's face. He's bitten back things like pleasure and desire for years now. Resisting them as both are dragged to the forefront is more of a challenge than he might have expected.]

[If there's one thing Wolfwood enjoys about Vash, it's how reactive he is to everything. Just the slightest, most errant touch is enough to set his entire body alight, in more ways than one. He barely has to think, and he has the Independent turning to putty in his hands. He's shaking as Wolfwood trails kisses down his neck, not even pausing when his lips graze the occasional deep scar, or metal bolt, or staple, or whatever else is keeping Vash stitched together. It doesn't matter. It's all part of him, and Wolfwood wants to take his time mapping out every inch, whether it's artificial, or the faint freckles dotting his unmarred skin.

Or...]

Mmm. That's it. Let me hear you...

[Kiss, kiss...he's working his way down, now. Vash may be resisting what his body wants right now, but that doesn't mean Wolfwood isn't picking up on the signs and seeking to appease it himself. He notes the way Vash's body occasionally jerks like he's holding himself back, shivering with the attempt to not just react so strongly to what he's feeling...and in response, he clicks his tongue and moves his hand suddenly down from Vash's hair so he can give that pec that isn't covered by a metal cage a firm squeeze. My guy might be missing a nipple, but he only needs one of them for Wolfwood's purposes.

Because he's going to duck his head down, kissing his way right to it before dragging his tongue in a slow circle around the raised nub, nipping lightly with the parted edge of his teeth before sealing his lips over it completely with a dull, gentle suck.]

[Each kiss brings out a little squeak, a tiny wiggle, or even a breathy exhale of Wolfwood's name. There's no denying that Vash is engaged, that he's fully enjoying himself in the moment they're sharing. And with as close as Wolfwood is to the space above his heart, he can surely feel the way it jackhammers with each individual touch.

All of that, of course, pales in comparison to the outright yelp he lets out as that mouth closes around his nipple. A wave of white hot pleasure shocks through him, leaving him almost limp within Wolfwood's arms for a handful of seconds. When he comes back to himself, it's through fluttering lashes and a string of mutterings that, at this point, might not even be English.]

Shit, Nick - [His voice low, not quite at the gritty timbre of Wolfwood's, but certainly strung out with the rush of sensation that's now flowing through him.] Think you could do - about whatever you wanted to me at this point.

[And maybe he hopes he does!]

[That's the plan! At least, that's what Wolfwood is aiming towards. He has plenty more he wants to do with Vash, he's just taking his time. One, because he wants to savor every single second he has with him like this, and two...because Vash made it a point to subtly warn him about what he might find. He imagines it has to do with something else about his Independent anatomy that he probably isn't prepared for, but he's working his way slowly towards that as he continues to lap at Vash's chest, soaking up every reaction and sound he makes. It's like a sweet honey he can't get enough of, particularly so when he starts to speak again. God, please keep saying his name like that, it is making him act up.]

Yeah...?

[It comes out in a breathy whisper as his lips leave Vash's chest for a moment with a wet pop, pushing himself back a fraction just so he can look down at him, his hair falling into his eyes past his shades. It reminds him of something he wanted to tell Vash before, but couldn't find an appropriate time to.]

Yaknow...I got my sunglasses enchanted by the Trader. She made it so I can see shit in the forest with them. ...but it's also made me see things on people, too.

[His thumb brushes over Vash's nipple one more time before his palm gently traces a path up his chest to his shoulder, then up the side of his neck to his jaw as he continues.]

...right now, I can see you. [...] The patterns. It's...beautiful.

[They're soft, ever present, yet not in a way that it hurts Wolfwood to look at, like with Elsword's radiant light. He brushes his thumb along one of them, even though Vash can't see the line he's tracing.]

...I wanna see more of it. I...wanna touch you. Is that okay?

[As Wolfwood continues, startled, desperate sounds begin to evolve. Steadily, they take on something almost whiny. Each lave of that tongue over his skin feels good, but he wants more. He wants those teeth sinking down, leaving his path clear and traceable over the next day to come.

He doesn't get a chance to vocalize this, given that he's stunned silent by that mouth popping off of his skin. It gives Wolfwood a chance to let his hands wander, and for Vash to fall quiet as he indulges in a different touch.

Even without his marks being lit up, Vash still knows where they are. There's a faint electrical current that runs across his skin when they come to life, and over the years he's memorized the patterns that they weave. It's why he's slightly surprised that Wolfwood follows them so expertly.

At least until he explains it. And oh how he could cry at those words. He's so used to being alien to people, and in that vein being feared. So far, Wolfwood has taken every little difference in stride. He's never felt as comfortable, as adored as he has now.

How could he ever get more of it.]

Like you - even have to ask. [Vash tries to roll his eyes, to at least play some of this cool. He's certain he'll be ribbed repeatedly for his display in the future if he doesn't manage some amount of decorum.

Not that it does much when he follows up with:]

Please, touch me. Please.

[It's almost funny, really. Given the fact that both Nai and Vash have basically ruined Wolfwood's entire life in different ways, you'd think he would despise both of them and everything they stand for. Nai, for forcing him into this life and molding him into a mutated version of who he could have been, and Vash, whose actions started the snowball affect that resulted in the lives everyone on the planet is forced to lead. But when you start getting into the weeds like that, things get...complicated. It was over a decade ago. For all Wolfwood knows, he could have never been born if history didn't play out the way it did, and...sure, his life has mostly sucked. But there's a lot he would have missed out on that he wouldn't be willing to give up now for anything.

And this, this right here? This is one of them.

Vash has become one of those things that he would give up everything for. And really, even from the moment the two of them met he knew- he knew- that his mission was going to be a difficult one, if not impossible. Just look at him now, in bed with his pseudo target, of all things. Leaning in to kiss his face again just because he knows it will make him giggle when he does. Drawing his hand up into his hair once more, deliberately tracing more of those light blue lines etched into Vash's skin until they disappear into golden locks. He threads through them carefully as his other hand dips back down, tracing a path through touch alone over his ribcage, abdomen, down the sharp V of his hips.

Maybe he doesn't know what he'll find. But if he cared about that, then he wouldn't be here at all.

Wolfwood leans in to press his lips to the unmarked side of Vash's neck, only this time he doesn't kiss him hard or give him a hickey or anything like that. He's merely mouthing him there, gentle as his fingertips pass over his navel, dipping briefly until he reaches the soft trail of hair leading down into his boxers. And, like...while he could just remove them outright to see what he's dealing with first, that doesn't seem...right. At least, it's not how he'd go about this with anyone else.

So. That's why he doesn't dip beneath the fabric yet, but instead stays above it as he finally cups Vash through the material, gently rocking his palm downwards against him. He's paying attention of course, to see how Vash reacts on top of just what he's feeling in general, going slowly and carefully for the other's benefit all the while.]

[And giggle Vash does. Every gentle kiss, every little scrape of skin against skin, or lips against the more sensitive spots on his body, sends little bouts of laughter coursing through him. His legs twitch, squirming against the bed as his toes curl into the fabric below. Half the time, his eyes are closed. The other half, they're half-lidded and full of adoration as he stares up at Wolfwood. The smile he wears is utterly syrupy, lovestruck in every sense of the word.

The smile does begin to fade as that hand finally reaches the hem of his underwear. There's a brief moment where he stiffens, before he forces himself to relax once more. He knows, knows that after everything, something like this probably won't scare Wolfwood away. But even as he thinks it, the anxiety grips his gut all the same.]

If it's - too much. Just say so.

[There are two things Wolfwood will immediately make note of as his hand drifts lower. First, there is the faintest press of something against the fabric above where Vash's pubic bone lies. At even the faintest of touches, it seems to grow, almost curling around the tip of a finger in a sinuous motion before the fingers are out of reach.

The second is the two-fold patches of dampness. One is in the aforementioned area, while the other is lower, directly between Vash's thighs. He seems to squirm at the touch there, hips rising up to meet his hand greedily.]

Mmn- Nick-

[If it's too much...

Well. It's like Wolfwood said. He'd just have to see about that.

There's little hesitation in his movements. He isn't rough though- he doesn't want to hurt Vash- but he isn't treating him like he might break under his touch, either. He could have predicted that things would be different, but now he's realizing they may actually be more different than anything he could have been imagining. He pulls back from Vash for just a moment, the curiosity in his search evident in his expression as his brows knit together and he glances down at where his hand ended up.

He doesn't want to stop immediately though. This isn't just for him, it's for Vash, and that's why he continues his ministrations for a moment first. He's careful and deliberate, bringing his hand a bit lower, arching the heel of his palm into the way Vash's hips rise up to meet it. He'll repeat the motion a time or two, until he can feel the slick beginning to coat his fingers through the fabric, which makes him realize that it's going to need to come off eventually.

Sitting back a bit against his calves, he carefully detangles himself from Vash just enough so that he can grab the hem of his underwear with both hands, glancing back up at him one more time as if to ask for silent permission before slipping them off entirely.]

[The moment in which he pulls back is a moment in which Vash finds himself starting to tense. His lips part with a handful of apologies, promises that they don't have to do this, they can find something else, they can - ]

Eeee-eh? [The sound trails into something more pleasured — obviously satisfied with the touch he's received. His legs tumble further open, exposing himself all the further even as he ruts upward into the fingers working against him.

At least when Wolfwood pulls back once more, he doesn't feel nearly as self-conscious. He knows that this part is necessary, even if he's ambivalent about it. Wolfwood might have an idea of what he's expecting, but Vash doubts he has the full picture. Nevertheless, he nods his assent and lifts his hips, helping to ease the underwear off.

What lies beneath his clothing is easily described as alien. Between his legs might be relatively normal, at least in the sense of being human. His legs part, revealing an entrance that's slick from the ministrations that Wolfwood's offered, and even a small bud of nerves at the apex of it all. What really stands out is what's beginning to — quite literally — unfold above his pubic bone. The space there, not unlike the petals of a flower, has bloomed open, revealing a very steadily growing tendril. Unlike the rest of Vash, its faint blue color is more akin to that of a Plant than of a human. And like the rest of him, it pulses with those same faint lines — though these would likely be visible even without the glasses.

Vash allows Wolfwood a few seconds of unabashed staring. He lets him come to terms with whatever thoughts he's having, before finally extending a foot and giving him a nudge.]

So. What's the damage?

[Dumbly, the very first thing Wolfwood can think is: it's both.

It is BOTH but also neither and something entirely different all at the same time and he is having a whole moment about it. Here he is, just a normal...boring human with a normal boring dick, and Vash is out here with something decidedly alien. And, well...if Vash was worried that Wolfwood was going to be disgusted by what he saw and just immediately bolt into the blizzard, he's going to realize he had nothing to worry about at all. Wolfwood is...staring, but not in a bothered way. It's decidedly in a very much affected way.

A "oh no I'm a Xenophile" kind of way.

He doesn't really know how long he sits there staring at Vash with his own cock straining against the confines of his boxers, desperate to be freed but also being completely ignored because he has something more important to pay attention to right now. At least Vash has a good view now of the fact that he's affected Wolfwood in this way, heavily so. Honestly, he might have forgotten to do...anything, if it weren't for Vash getting his attention.]

Huh? [He blinks, looking back up at him. Then, he scoots back just a little because....yes, yep, he is actually leaning in to get a closer look.] Shut up for a sec-

[What is he thinking? Well the true answer is that he isn't, not anymore. He's acting on gut instinct now as he reaches his hand back in for a more direct feel, starting with that reaching tendril first. He wasn't unaware of the way it reached for him under Vash's clothing, as if it's capable of moving by itself (lol lmao), and that's what he finds himself searching for now, his fingers ever-so-carefully tracing down the full length of it whether it stays put or tries to wrap around his hand or what. But he doesn't just stop at that.

He wants to see that entrance too. His other hand joins in, now, his thumb guiding the motion as he traces underneath where that tendril begins, grazing the blue petal-like folds. It's considerably wet down here, making it easy for him to use the edge of his thumb to pull them slightly aside, and. Well. If Vash was feeling at all self conscious about being stared at I am truly so sorry-

He should? Stop? He should stop. He is not stopping. He is getting closer, settling down on his chest and forearms between Vash's knees.

He's. Is he-

One hand entertains that tendril while his other rests carefully along that entrance, and before even he knows what he's doing, he's ducked his head forward to simply bury his face there, letting his tongue lathe gently against the folds for a proper taste.]

[Butterfly, meet pinboard.

Vash isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing right now. Wolfwood is obviously staring, and with those glasses still squarely on his nose, it's a bit harder to tell what he's thinking. He lifts his foot to nudge at him, but stops short when his gaze falls a little further south. Vash can lie to himself about a lot of things, but there's little room to acknowledge a biological response. Specifically, one that indicates arousal of all things.

As if — Wolfwood was really enjoying what he was seeing. As if he wanted to touch more. See more. Do more. The mere thought practically bodies Vash with his own wave arousal, further spurring the tendril out until it's reached its full length.]

Jeez, Nick - [So much for shutting up.

At first, he squirms at the almost teasing touches. He is nothing if not incredibly sensitive, especially here. Especially as that tendril takes the chance to curl around the tips of Wolfwood's fingers. It isn't entirely prehensile — the further toward the base it went, the less flexible it was. But the tip seemed to have a mind of its own, curling greedily around the source of friction and leaving an almost thick, sap like substance in its wake.]

Ah - c'mon, you're teasing me! [Comes the whine from up toward the head of the bed. He has no idea what Wolfwood's about to do next, but he absolutely doesn't expect his whole face to suddenly be between his legs and - ]

Fuck. [Vash isn't the type to swear all that frequently, usually in moments of heavy emotions or intense surprise. It really underlines just how deeply that single lave of the tongue seems to effect him. His legs fold inward, briefly trapping Wolfwood before he remembers to let the poor man breathe.]

[He should have taken off his sunglasses. Key word, should. He did not do that, and now it feels like it might be too late. He is already here, and unless Vash kicks him in the face or yells at him to stop, he doesn't plan on doing so. He's too busy committing everything to memory. The way that tendril behaves is both exactly as he'd expect and completely different at the same time. It being only semi-prehensile is interesting, and he notes the way the very tip seeks contact on its own. He won't stop it from doing whatever the hell it wants, of course, his fingers kept loose and pliable for Vash's benefit. The slick it leaves behind is also a lot thicker than he would have guessed, like syrup, and that is making every neuron in his brain freak the fuck out as he feels it coat his fingers and slide down towards his palm, like sweet molasses.

He breathes out harshly. Get a fucking grip. He's not the one who's meant to be acting like a blushing virgin, here. But, well...it's not like he's exactly in his element or anything. This is new for him, too, just as new as it is for Vash. Vaguely, he finds himself imagining dully what that first and only sexual encounter for Vash must have been like. With who? Ugh. Whoever it was, he hopes to a god he doesn't believe in that they didn't hurt Vash over any of this, because if they did they did not fucking deserve him anyway. They didn't deserve any of this.

The teasing isn't intentional, though he continues to be silent as the grave as he works. The more he explores, the more he searches with his fingertips and now his mouth, the harder it gets for him to focus. There is a visible, wet sheen at his own front now, and it is not helped by the way Vash abruptly crushes his head between his thighs the second his tongue gets involved.

Please. Do not be unlocking more kinks for him right now, he's already at capacity-

He closes his eyes for a moment as he waits for Vash to relent and let up on that punishing hold on his head, carefully drawing back just a fraction so he can pull his glasses off and drop them haphazardly to the mattress. It's going to make this a lot easier, and he doesn't want anything obstructing his view.

Back to that entrance, slick and inviting. He traces his tongue up from where it begins at its lowest point all the way up to that bundle of nerves at the top, though he's careful not to touch that just yet. He's busy sampling the rest first. This is not like a human's, this is much thicker, it really is like sap from a tree, or a flower...it has to be sweet, or maybe he's just imagining that. His tongue dips into the petals, seeking for more, like a hummingbird desperate for sweet nectar.]

[The good thing about No Man's Land is that there's plenty of other freaks running around. Maybe not exactly like him, but he's not the only one with an "augmented" body or anything of the sort. A few pretty little lies and blinks from those doe eyes would have anyone believing anything, at least for a time. So no, his first time was not poor in that regard. It was Vash who had been the one to ruin it, and only for himself.

It was, like most things for Vash, fleeting and strictly business. There was no time spend dabbling or exploring. He was in and out in a blink, and left with plenty of time to lament and regret ever allowing himself such an indulgence.

But that was a long time ago. This was different. Yes, Wolfwood's touch is self-serving, in that it suits his exploration, but he isn't short on the attention he gives Vash. From minute one, it's been mutual. And of course, the Independent cherished that.

With a soft exhale, Vash's leg bends at the knee. he tucks it over Wolfwood's shoulder, a silent request for him to linger, but not a forced attempt. His hand, meanwhile, slips downward too. It tangles in the Punisher's hair, stroking through it as he babbles nonsensical praise. Each point of contact sends fresh electricity pounding through his veins. He can't ever recall being this keyed up, this sensitive to anything. It has to be Wolfwood, and only him.

Those sounds alone should probably be enough to encourage Wolfwood, or at least assure him that the effort is being well-received. Nevertheless, Vash tries to force his scattered braincells to focus on being coherent, if only to affirm that Nick is doing everything right.]

's good Nick. You're doin' good. I feel - [He trails into a bout of bubbling laughter. He sounds ridiculous but. Whatever. Who cares.]

[...has anyone ever told Vash that his laughter is perfect? Because it is, and that's what Wolfwood ends up thinking idly, dumbly. It's like his brain is on autopilot and regurgitating the first thing that comes to mind in response to all outward stimuli. Boy pretty. Yes, we already knew that, good job congrats.

It's funny. He's never cared about his performance in bed before. He's never...been particularly fussed about wanting to make sure he does a good job for someone. Every other time it was just a thing, just something to do, something to take the edge off and blow off steam, but here? He could be plowing through this like a bull in a china shop if he wanted but he's not. He's taking the utmost care with Vash, and it isn't just because his anatomy is unique and he doesn't want to fuck up with that. He is...enamored, by all of it, and he wants to explore every nook and cranny.

He glances up to look at Vash past the tendril now clutching his index finger, just briefly. Vash may notice the way his eyes crease, indicating a smirk against the sensitive skin, which is made all the more purposeful when Wolfwood draws back a fraction so he can show Vash he's smiling. He'll be able to see the way his own slick glistens on his skin, and the way Wolfwood decides to tease Vash by sticking his tongue out at him through his teeth.]

Yeah? You taste good.

[Genuinely, he doesn't think he's enjoyed eating somebody out this much in a while, but he's also...well. Maybe a LITTLE bit biased here.

He wastes no time going back in for seconds, only this time he's not moving quite so slow or tentative as before. He goes in as if he would for a kiss, mouthing his way in deeper until he reaches a point of resistance, at which he stops and once again drags his tongue along the outside. Every time he laps away the slick to have it replaced by yet more, he's quick to swipe it away again with his tongue. Back all the way up to the apex, where he pauses. That little nub is there, nestled among the petals, risen to attention and similarly inviting. And if it's anything like he imagines it will be, well.

Wolfwood braces himself as he tilts his head up and lays a kiss against it, just before wrapping his lips around the tip so he can suck on it similarly to the way he had with Vash's nipple before, albeit a lot more gentle, and with a lot more attention given with the way his tongue darts in to tease it between his lips.]

[Why is it that that is what strikes Vash dumb. It's so silly, so plainly said, and yet simultaneously incredibly intimate. He juts his lower lip out in a pout, even as he whimpers his own protests. How dare Wolfwood turn this back on him, especially about that.

Not that he has any time to actually complain. By the time he even considers it, Wolfwood is diving back in. There is no mercy to be had here this time and Vash wouldn't have it any other way. Pleasure floods his every sense, sending lights darting both behind his eyes and over his skin. Wolfwood will see it too, the way every pulse with his mouth has an immediate visible effect of illuminating those bioluminescent lines.]

Hell - Nick. Wolfwood -

[His hips rise up, greedily shoving himself further into Wolfwood's mouth. The end of his prehensile cock curls greedily over the fingers still nearest it, as if trying to draw out all the more pleasure. As if Vash could handle it without breaking. As long as it's been, he already feels dangerously close to the edge. He struggles to keep his legs open, rather than slamming shut around Wolfwood's head once more.]

[The funny thing is, Wolfwood isn't even trying to be suave here. He's just saying what comes to mind, and what he's saying is how he actually feels. He thinks he could do this for a long time if he thought that Vash could stand it, just. Eating him out for hours? Yeah, that sounds like a good way to spend the evening. He knows better than to think they have that kind of time though, which is why he's savoring it now while he can. It's not hard to tell that he's going to bust soon enough, so he's going to enjoy it while he still can.

He actually quite enjoys the way Vash has taken to rocking his hips up into his face, like yes? Yes please fuck his face. We are learning things about ourselves today. Not that Wolfwood wasn't plenty aware that he'd be as into this as he is, it's just...this is doing things for his oral fixation. Never in his life did he think he'd have so many things to get to play with all at once, it's almost overwhelming. Like a kid in a candy store being told they can only pick one.

Well...why not sample the rest while he's at it? Yes, he thinks he just might.

Wolfwood will linger against the folds for a little bit longer first though, hungrily lapping up the slick and teasing at that bundle of nerves with the edge of his tongue. By the time he does finally resurface, his nose, mouth, and chin are completely soaked, but that seems to be doing little to deter him. With a coy cant of his head to the side, Wolfwood turns his attention to the length currently still curling around his fingers, which prompts him to gently free himself so he can use the residual wetness to slick up his palm, making it easier to give it a few slow, measured strokes.]

Haha...sorry. Don't mean to neglect you.

[....................is he talking to Vash or is he talking to his cock-

Well whichever is the case, he's briefly swapping gears, tilting his head up so he can guide the tip of the reaching length towards his own mouth. He opens up, sticking his tongue out partway as he allows it to slither inside partially of its own volition in seeking out more stimulation, which is an insane feeling on its own, before he ducks his head forward and actively wraps his lips around the head. The pass of his tongue against the shaft is both purposeful and curious, mapping out its various bumps and textures while also keeping an eye on Vash's reactions to it up above. In a perfect world, he'd just have two heads so he could do both, but since he can't...he's just going to bring his now-free hand back down to that entrance so he can very gently introduce a finger inside, curious to see if it's function is as he suspects.]

[Wolfwood is, quite potentially, trying to kill Vash. That's the only (il)logical conclusion Vash can draw. There's something about the timbre of his voice, the heat of his breath and of course, the roughness of his palms that all pairs perfectly together when it comes to absolutely driving Vash insane. A series of equally incoherent, babbling noises escapes him — somewhere between whimpers and yelps, not at all unlike the little sounds he makes when in a scrap. He's nothing if not consistent, at least.

It is a little disappointing as Wolfwood pulls away. Equally as disappointing is the fact that Vash realizes that it's not him being addressed, but his damn dick. He shifts his leg enough to nudge Wolfwood in the side, scowling for approximately .5 seconds before oh god - that's his mouth.

It's a battle of wills within Vash's own mind. Part of him wants to outright buck into his mouth. The other part urges him to stay still and not overwhelm. In the end, those hips do twitch upward, forcing the tip of his cock just that much further into Wolfwood's mouth. It curls sinuously over his tongue, laying heavy against it as a fresh wave of slick seems to shudder out of it. It at least has the decency to not force itself any further down Wolfwood's throat, even if Vash is very curious about how far his gag reflex goes.

I mean what -

Distracted as he is by trying to keep himself from choking Wolfwood out, he almost doesn't notice his other hand shifting. It's only once he feels that renewed warmth that he realizes what's happening and -]

N-Nick!

[Naturally, there's very little resistance as that singular finger finds its way in. He's slick enough that the glide is easy, even if Vash does tighten down around him instinctively. The startled noises from the man gives way, once more, to a very pleased groan. At least for the moment, he melts back down against the blankets.]

This is Vash's. Uh. Journal thing? Is everyone seeing this? Hello -
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