[Right. Waylaid as Vash had been by Wolfwood's display, he'd forgotten about the fact that his partner has had precious little in terms of stimulation. Though he does whine out his protest at practically being flopped on top of, it's a defanged attempt at actually warding him off.
With some wiggling, Vash manages to finally ease himself back onto his back. It's easier to meet Wolfwood's eyes this way, especially now that he's free of those damn glasses. And though he is painfully aware that he should be doing something more for the man, his first instinct is to lean up and steal a kiss from him. It's quick, but no less adoring than any other.]
Kept you waiting long enough, haven't I? [He sighs as he lets his hand slip down lower. He toys at the hem of those ruined boxers — one of them is going to need to talk to Heimr about spares, aren't they — but doesn't quite dip any lower just yet.]
How do you want it? I can touch you like this, or... [His body shifts, one leg tipping to the side in order to open himself up again. He could absolutely go a second round, despite the accusations.]
[If Vash is doing everything in his power to hear Wolfwood laugh more, well, it's working. He lets out a startled bark of a laugh as Vash just offers himself up, just like that, which prompts him to drop his forehead softly against Vash's.]
Vash. Trust me, I want nothin' more than to scramble your guts. [Oh okay-] But...I want you to touch me first. Yeah?
[Semi-reluctantly, he rolls over so that he's laying fully beside Vash again instead of crouched on top of him, which is far less difficult now that they've got two beds pushed together to work with. He settles back against the pillows, his own legs spread wide with plenty of room for Vash to settle between them.]
My cock ain't as interesting as yours, but I still think it's pretty sweet. If you wanted to have a look, that is.
[He's not even asking Vash to get him off, either. He just wants to give him the full experience.]
[If Wolfwood expected anynthing other than an affronted squawk, that's on him. He isn't opposed to the idea, but the phrasing threatens to ruin the moment more than anything. As it is. he winds up half curled as he sputters out some incredulous, breathless laughter.]
You want to - what?! [He heaves this out even as he rolls over, settling over the top of Wolfwood's thighs. He soothes his hands over his legs, marveling over the coarse hair there, before ducking them inward. He can see that the fabric has been absolutely devastated by all the waiting he's had to do, and it makes his heart start to seize.]
Mm, guess I can see why you want my hands on you. [He lifts himself up into a squat as his hands slide upward, securing their place beneath the hem of his underwear. With little more preamble, they're tugged down, revealing Wolfwood in all his "pretty sweet" glory.]
[He is showing a remarkable amount of restraint and patience here, Vash. He's been dying, and it's only the prospect of being touched soon that has kept him from simply pinning Vash to the mattress right here and now.
At least Vash doesn't have to fuss with his stupid undershirt, or slacks, or anything like that. The underwear come off just as easily as anything (well, maybe with a LITTLE trouble, they're fucking drenched after all), and even Wolfwood isn't immune to the way it makes him feel to finally be exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. He groans under his breath, brows knitting together as he tries to remember to stay put, for Vash's sake.
And, well! It's a cock! A very human one at that. There's nothing particularly special about it, in all honesty. He doesn't have any piercings- he's not that wild- and as one might expect, he's incredibly unkempt down there, same as he is pretty much everywhere else on his body. Though, he wasn't exactly lying; he's bigger than average, and it shows with the way he's standing proudly at attention, flushed dark and desperate for contact. Never mind the fact he's been dripping this entire time, and even now it leaks, dribbling precum down the underside of the shaft.]
[Vash's frame of reference when it comes to cocks is incredibly limited, as one could reasonably expect. With the film of several decades obscuring the finer details of his memory, he can't recall if his previous partner was anything to write home about in this regard. Not that it mattered. This was Nicholas D. Wolfwood in front of him. No one could have a hope of comparing to him.
Which wasn't to say that Vash wasn't marveling at the size him as it is. He can feel his own mouth beginning to salivate, spurred by the thought of befouling his mouth with the taste of him.]
Hmm. [Vash hums to himself playfully as he lowers himself. He settles on one elbow as he angles his head at the level of the cock he's currently inspecting. His free hand lifts, stroking his chin with a near comical level of deliberation. Then, with only a hint of hesitation, he leans forward to lick a stripe upward, deliberately sweeping his tongue so as to lap up that dribble of precome. Admittedly, it isn't the most pleasant taste, but he manages to keep from wrinkling his nose outright.]
I see. [The clinical tone lingers for just a second more, before a grin splits over his lips.] So that's where the D in your name comes from!
[Okay, he's gotta admit, he didn't expect Vash to do that. He thought he might put his hands on him and feel him up a little, but maybe he shouldn't be that shocked. Wolfwood was kindof the one who kicked off this whole thing, just immediately burying his face in Vash without a word. He gets it, it's more than a little tempting when you've seen it for the first time in a century.
He shudders inwardly, his fingers pulling at the sheets to distract himself from just how badly he wants to buck his hips at just that much. He manages to keep his knees parted, but only just...and then Vash decides to ruin everything by sitting back and opening his stupid mouth.
...Wolfwood makes a face, suddenly lifting one of his feet so he can knock his heel (lightly) against the side of Vash's head.]
If you didn't just have your mouth on me, I woulda' kicked your ass on the floor for that.
[Yeah, that does little to keep him from laughing. It's a faintly breathless sound, considering the fact that he's getting worked up just looking at his cock. The taste, faintly bitter though it was, felt like it was warming him from the inside out.]
What? For telling you you have good Wolfwood
[He's still chuckling even as he tips his head downward, parting his lips so as to take the head of Wolfwood's cock into his mouth. He's careful to avoid brushing his teeth over anything sensitive, and he doesn't let himself dip down too far either. He can see how much he's wanted, and as flattering as it is, they won't be able to go much further of Wolfwood loses it now.
That doesn't keep his tongue from 'round the head one last time. He savors the touch even as his own hand slips between his legs, openly palming against himself as he savors the weight on his tongue. His pleasure is hummed out, lashes aflutter, as his head lifts. He doesn't leave Wolfwood without contact for long, though. The now slicked up palm is carefully wrapped around his dick, pumping once as Vash flicks his gaze upward to watch Nick's face.]
If you insist on talkin' the whole time we have sex I am going to have to strangle you-
[He lies, like a liar. He loves when Vash talks, actually, even when the stupidest bullshit imaginable falls out of that mouth of his. Fortunately for them both, what Vash does next sufficiently distracts him, to the point where he thinks he might actually have to stop him there because they won't be getting much further if he blows his load now. Granted, he's more than willing to go multiple, triple rounds, but also..........also....he has needs, and wants, and only so much patience to go around.
His body flinches as he sucks in a ahrsh breath through his teeth, because now it's his turn to be overwhelmed by the heat of pleasure coiling tight in the pit of his gut. It's not even just the sensation either, but watching Vash go down on him is something he never thought he'd want to commit to his memory, but holy shit. Holy shit-]
Vash-
[He starts, his voice gravely as his shoulders shift like he's going to sit forward, but Vash is already moving before he can. And...
...oh.
Oh.
Wolfwood's mouth drops open as he watches Vash unabashedly collect the slick from his own length and entrance, gathering it up on his palm so he can more easily wrap it around Wolfwood's cock for better, more comfortable purchase. Something flickers in the other man's gaze just then, and it's pretty obviously lust and want, because more than anything he wants Vash, he's realizing.
At least now that isn't something he has to pretend. Not anymore.]
[At least Vash is perceptive enough to pick up how the tone has shifted. He watches as that mouth falls open, knows exactly where those eyes have settled. It makes Vash wish he had the slightest bit more confidence, the ability to put on a show while those eyes remained on him. As it stands, he can only really stroke over the man, even as he adjusts his own body to hover over him.]
Do you want me like this, Nick?
[It'd be a hell of a view, having Wolfwood pinned under him. He can only imagine how it might feel with that chest braced beneath his hands, keeping him steady as he rocks his hips. Vash feels dizzy with just the thought, let alone actually going through the effort.]
You're the one that wanted to... scramble my guts? [Another snort.] Hate to interrupt whatever pretty fantasies you've got going on in that head.
[Maybe Vash could make an effort to sound more sexy. But as it stands, he just sounds like his usual, playful self. Perhaps even more so, considering that his current enjoyment is entirely genuine.]
I'll do whatever you want, Nick. Just say the word.
[His hand has not stopped moving the entire time. Each movement is long and drawn out, more to have contact than to actually pull the man toward his edge. It wouldn't do to have it end so quickly, would it?]
It's rare that Wolfwood is left at a loss for words, but this is truly one of those times. His brain feels like Vash reached out and squeezed it until he had no more rational thoughts left in his brain that weren't horny in some way. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? For Vash to just...sink down on top of him, like this. He's right there, practically dripping on top of him, pliant and waiting. He thinks he wants that, too, but he also wants everything else. He wants...
He just wants.
He's panting now, every breath pulled out of him in a heave like he's run a marathon. Never before in his life has he gotten this worked up about just being touched by someone else's hand, but there you go. Somehow, Vash has managed it, and it's driving him absolutely insane. But he knows what he's been imagining this entire time. He knows it, and...
...He can't wait anymore.
Vash didn't really even fully get that last sentence past his lips before Wolfwood started to sit up, sit forward with one of his hands reaching out to take Vash by the shoulder. Initially, he wouldn't be blamed for thinking "oh shit, I fucked up", like he's done something wrong and Wolfwood is trying to stop him now, or something. But that couldn't be further from the truth.
He uses the leverage of his hand to push Vash over, shoving him down onto his side so that he's laying horizontally across the shared mattresses. This is the longest part of the entire bed they've gotten set up here, and just as Vash is likely turning over onto his back to figure out what the hell just happened, he's being pushed back down by Wolfwood descending upon him, their mouths crashing together in a clumsy, desperate kiss. He keeps Vash pinned there line that, one hand holding his good arm down (he doubts he physically could restrain the prosthetic, even if he wanted to) while his other hand buries itself deep in the back of his hair. And for a moment, this is all he does...he kisses Vash like it's the last thing he'll ever do, until Vash maybe realizes through the desperate flurry that Wolfwood is lining himself up between Vash's legs.
Only when they're both struggling to breathe does Wolfwood finally pull back, their breath mingling in the small bit of space he's left between them.]
I want...you, you...you idiot. I need you.
[The grip on Vash's hair lessens, just a fraction. He hasn't plunged into him yet, not like he wants, but...it's because he's searching Vash's expression, one last time. His eyes dart, seeking out any hints of reluctance there. Of regret. Because he can still remember that night when they kissed for the first time, and then the aftermath, when Vash told him he was better off anywhere else.
And for just a moment, Wolfwood's expression carries the energy of that of a petulant child, who might just throw a tantrum if Vash suddenly decided to say "no".]
I need...to make you feel. As important to me as you make me feel.
[There is definitely a part of Vash that wonders if he's fucked up. He has only a few seconds to dwell on those thoughts before suddenly that mouth is pressing down upon him. He meets the kiss with an equally clumsy one of his own, wincing as their teeth clank together but not once daring to outright stop.
His lips ache by the time Wolfwood pulls away, but that doesn't keep Vash from being petulant right back. There's no reluctance here, just an outright pout as he tries to crane upward once more.]
I need you [He affirms. His expression softens though, and he lets his head come to rest on the mattress once more. He reaches a hand up, cupping Wolfwood's cheek, then carding through his hair as gentle as possible.] Not that you need to do that, just to make me feel important. I feel it right now, Nick.
[And it's true that he does. Beneath all of the lust, there's a part of him that feels warm and at peace. They could stop right now, and he'd be content wrapped up in Wolfwood's arms. They've fought countless times. He's sure they'll fight again, too. But right now, that doesn't matter. Nick has given him more kindness than most any other human he's ever met before.
It's not an answer that will fly, though. Nor does Vash want it to. For all his words, he still wants Wolfwood. And that's why he reaches downward once more, grasping at the other man's cock as he tries to position his own body just right.]
[...he has to believe Vash. He has to. Vash is his. He wants this. Wants him.
It's what he needed to hear.
Since Vash has a grip on him down below, Wolfwood doesn't have to worry quite as much about his positioning. It means Vash can guide him right where he needs to be, so their cocks don't awkwardly collide or he doesn't somehow miss his mark entirely. He exhales on a shaking breath, and with sweat rolling down his face he finally, finally, sinks himself forward into that wet, tight heat.
And he's pretty sure that if he didn't have some level of experience under his belt, that first push would have been it. He would have blown his load right then and there, because how could he not? It feels every bit as incredible as he imagined it would, and it's just the tip that he's worked in. The glide is completely effortless with how wet Vash has become, he really doesn't have to worry about resistance, and the moan that he breathes out is guttural and deep as he slips inside.
Vash is so soft, and warm. It's hard to imagine just how he could be any different from a human, while also being completely alien in so many ways. He reacts the same as any person would during sex, though, and it fills Wolfwood with such a sense of satisfaction that he feels like he might collapse under the pressure. He cradles the back of Vash's head again, kissing his face and neck as he sinks in those last few centimeters needed to fill Vash up completely, resisting the urge to just start moving right away. No, he wants to savor this. He wants to ponder the feeling of how Vash's cock, outside of his body and above where Wolfwood rests, is currently laying against the base of Wolfwood's, leaving him with a bizarre sensation he couldn't possibly place.
[Once Wolfwood's in, there's no real reason for his hand to linger. Instead, he lets it glide glide upward — pausing to palm briefly at Wolfwood's ass before rising up to clutch at the space between his shoulder blades. Like this, he can enjoy the sensation of being slowly, gradually filled. He thinks of that length, now emblazoned brightly on his brain, pressing into him, still dripping from the tip and —
Like Wolfwood, it's a wonder he doesn't lose it. At least it wouldn't be the end of the world comparatively, but he's grateful to hang on all the same. The closer they get to coming together, the better.
While Vash's hand might not feel the need to continue to encourage Wolfwood, the same can't be said for the rest of his body. His cock, pressed near the other man's as it is, seems to respond in kind. It wraps the very tip around the man, as if to keep him held close. There isn't so much resistance that he can't move, merely an additional pressure to satisfy him.
Beyond that, Vash doesn't do much to try and spur Wolfwood forward, not yet. Like him, he's content with basking in the sensation of being filled. It's an intimacy he's experienced once before, but never on a level like this. His last partner hadn't bothered with those careful kisses. He can't even remember if they bothered learning each other's names.
It's nothing like this. It's nothing like Wolfwood. And while he angles away from the kisses after a moment, it's only to meet his partner's gaze. Better that he be subjected to that outright, unfiltered adoration he thinks.]
[He has to admit, being hit with Vash's adoration beams head on is pretty hard to take. It's like looking directly into the sun, and he would be blinded by it if it weren't for the fact that he has at least some resistance to it after traveling with him for so long. He got little flickers of it back home, as a matter of fact...sometimes, Vash would look at him that way then, too. Here, now that they've decided to make something of this thing between them, it's only amplified to obscene levels. It's like he might actually drown, suffocating underneath the weight of it all.
He huffs, a laugh of disbelief, now that he's fully seated inside Vash.]
So do you. Vash.
[The nicknames, endearing as they are, don't come to mind for him right now. It's just Vash.
Wolfwood knows that no matter how blissful he feels, he can't linger like this for too long. Not only will the impatience win out, but his body may just give up on him if he's forced to wait another moment without relief. He's selfish, he's not going to deny it. He said he wanted to scramble Vash's guts and god damn if he isn't going to make good on that promise. So...once he feels that Vash has adopted a comfortable hold on him, he finally deigns to try moving.]
O-ohhh fuck.
[It's like he's been put right back into the shoes of himself when he did this the first time, and one slight movement was enough to make him lose it. He can feel it burning on the edges of his self control, that urge to rush through this and work himself to his peak already. And he'll get there, he will, but there's some merit to taking it slow too...which he's doing right now. He pulls out of Vash just a fraction, the sound of it slick and wet between them, before he sinks back into him again. It's not a real rhythm so much as it is Wolfwood getting his bearings, trying his best not to cream him in two seconds and be known as the worst lay Vash has ever had.
His neck cranes, back bowing as he presses his face briefly into Vash's neck.]
[There's something that he and Wolfwood have in common, Vash has learned. For him, it was a matter of keeping people at arm's length. If getting close to him was a recipe for disaster, then he'd never once try to use their names. There were only a few exceptions to that list. Wolfwood had long been one of them — and that had only grown more true as he'd shifted to a first name basis.
And while Nick might have had his own reasons, it had never been lost on Vash that he deliberately used nicknames in the place of actually addressing someone. It was just another one of the myriad ways he and Wolfwood had proven to be two halves of a broken whole. But that barrier had long since fallen away for them. Now, they were more than accidental comrades, or anything like that.
They were friends. Lovers. Perhaps something more. And nothing made that more clear than the fact that Wolfwood willingly called him by name. More than anything he'd felt that night, the mouth against his skin, the fullness he feels now, that fact is what threatens to throw him over the edge.
But he's been out of the moment for far too long. He focuses in just as Wolfwood pulls out, leaving him to briefly wonder if he's fucked up. But no, his cock slides back in just as quick, filling him once more with that indescribable fullness. His body arches upward immediately, a keening noise leaving him as the waves of pleasure ripple through him. The hand against Wolfwood's back tightens, biting at the skin just enough to leave dents in it.]
Yeah, Yeah, Nick. Just like that.
[It's a bit disappointing, how close they both already are. Trying to draw it out much longer would be a fools errand, but he hopes Wolfwood will try anyway. Anything to have just a few extra seconds with him.]
[You'd better believe he's going to damn well try. He's not going to stop just at one measly thrust of his hips. Hell, he isn't going to want to stop after just one orgasm. Vash has shown his proclivity for getting it up again pretty much instantly, which leads Wolfwood to believe he has stamina befitting someone who is nonhuman. Meaning...their only limitation here, probably, is how long Wolfwood can last and, well.
Wolfwood isn't exactly a normal human himself. Superhuman, in essence. And he's decided that unless Vash protests, he's going to keep going until one or the other of them can't go any more.
Vash's gentle praise only serves to spur him on further. He can feel his own cock leaping deep inside Vash, equal parts begging for stimulus as much as release, yet he's forcing himself to restrain it, if only for just a few moments more. Please, he just wants...to be like this with Vash for a bit longer.
His movements are jerky. Sloppy, and uncoordinated. It takes a little bit for him to find his rhythm, his thighs quaking as each errant twitch sends shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. There's a moan of Vash's name on his lips, reverent and low, as he rolls his hips and rocks back into him again. Soon, that tenuous movement becomes a proper rhythm, slow and languid and purposeful. And...for as much as he kept imagining that he would fuck Vash into a smear on the mattress in a way that was rough and punishing, he's...not doing that.
As corny as it sounds, they're not just having sex. They're making love. And it makes Wolfwood's chest ache as he envelops Vash with his body, this time seeking to kiss his lips like before as he moves.
His friend. His lover. Boyfriend. Vice.
There's irony in a man doomed to hell falling in love with an angel.]
[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.]
[If Wolfwood could possibly hear Vash's thoughts, he would be comically gagging at what he's thinking. It's all incredibly sappy and sincere in a way that he seems to reject. That sort of thing isn't his style. It isn't the way he chooses to live. If he were this sentimental all the time, he would have been killed long before he ever woke up in this world.
But that's just it, really. In spite of all of Wolfwood's posturing, every time he claims to be above it all, the reality is that this is what he craves. In a perfect world, their lives would be peaceful and idyllic. They would be able to simply live without worry of strife, and could be together without the looming shadow of what new disaster tomorrow is going to bring. Wolfwood would be able to grow old with Vash knowing that everything he'd done in his life had been worth it, since it lead up to this moment right here.
They still have work to do, back home. Far be it from them to think that this could be their happily ever after when the planet remains locked in a perpetual battle that Vash has found himself right at the center of, with Wolfwood bringing up the rear. Even here, it lingers in the back of his mind, leaving him to wonder what the point of all of this must be. Why allow it to happen, knowing that it could be torn away at any moment?
It's because...he thinks, he's realized that this- too- is worth fighting for. The way he feels when he's with Vash, like this. It's not unlike the love in his heart he clings to when he thinks of Hopeland. Livio. Things and people he would gladly throw away his life for. Vash...he's become something precious to Wolfwood, someone that completes him in a way he never thought could be possible for someone so fundamentally broken. While part of him can't help but push back against the notion that something like this relationship could be at all on the same level as the things he's spent his whole life trying to protect, the fact remains that there's no going back from this point onward.
Vash thanks him. He thanks him, and then stutters out an apology.
Wolfwood, in contrast, breathes out a softly amused huff as he brings Vash a bit closer to himself, his lips still grazing the corner of his mouth as he suddenly picks up the pace. Those slow, languid thrusts suddenly turn quicker, rapid pistoning of his hips that press Vash into the mattress underneath, as if trying to eke out just that much more contact before the two of them need a break.]
Shut up. [It couldn't be said more fondly, his voice thick with arousal as he whispers it against Vash's ear.] Don't apologize. Just- ah...feel it. Enjoy it.
[He hits Vash in a particularly good way between words, keening a sound into his ear that Vash has likely never heard the man make before, reserved only for him.]
[Shut up he says, and Vash does the exact opposite. He sputters out his laughter, delighted and boyish. It's the only noise he can think to make when the rest of him feels so overwhelmed. Even the tone he takes, thick with his enjoyment together, thrills him to the very core.
The pace increases, and Vash's own hips stutter in their efforts to meet Wolfwood. He falters, and falls back into the mattress, toes curling into the fabric of the sheets. Surely, surely he can be forgiven for simply taking it in these last few minutes. His fingers do clutch at Wolfwood's back, or tug at his hair. And of course he sings the man his praises.
The heat grows. It grows until he thinks it might consume him, immolate the both of them until there's nothing left.]
Fuck - Nick. Nick please -
[And then it's too much. It bursts, a racing wildfire that leaves him gasping at first, then outright sobbing onto Wolfwood's shoulder. His cock, for a mercy, does not grip tight against his partner, nor does it make the same horrid mess before. The rest of him does not grant that same mercy, all but drenching Wolfwood and their connected thighs with that sticky, sappy mess.
Their new bed may or may not be ruined. Vash doesn't give a damn. He's too busy whimpering into Wolfwood's skin, tears spilling down and mixing with the sweat they've both accumulated.]
[Wolfwood wishes he had something more eloquent to say, but that's just the type of guy he is. Better with actions than words. Every time Vash starts to laugh while they're doing this, he feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest. It's like he's experiencing something genuinely exciting, a real, human connection that transcends anything he's felt before. And, really...it's the same for Wolfwood, too.
It's not rare to sleep with someone. It is rare to feel like you've truly connected. It's a feeling he doesn't want to take for granted, just as much as he can't help but lament the fact that it's ending so soon.
But...they have time here, don't they? All of a sudden, they have all of the time in the world.
Just as Vash can't hold on for much longer, Wolfwood is feeling his body give out on him. He hasn't peaked at all yet, so it's a miracle he didn't bust the second he slipped inside Vash. He thinks it might be because he's so laser focused on him and wanting him to feel good that it's hard to feel too selfish in that regard, even if his very chest burns with desire and need all at the same time. And in those last few moments, he doesn't care that Vash lays back and simply takes what he's being given. It means that Wolfwood can focus all of his efforts on making Vash feel good, angling his hips just right so it hits him in the deepest, most sensitive places he has. Choking on a moan when he feels the way Vash's length curls around his own at the base, squeezing gently, encouraging. The two of them become a chorus of nonsense sounds and moaning, of stuttering each others' names in ecstasy.
Then, just when Wolfwood is certain he isn't going to be able to take any more, Vash snaps, his whole body rocking into him like a coiled spring suddenly released. He can feel it as he cums, the way he soaks him with his release, and if it weren't for Vash holding onto him so tightly, he might be afraid he'd slip right out. Thankfully, there's no possibility of that. Not when Wolfwood buries himself to the hilt and catches his teeth along the side of Vash's neck, his back arching and every muscle in his shoulders tensing as he- finally- feels his own orgasm race like lightning through his entire body.]
Vash...Vash-ah--!
[He does not even think about trying to pull out. He doesn't...ponder, if that could be a problem, or what it could mean, or anything. He stays as deep as he can get and he fills Vash with everything he has, his body pumping into him rhythmically in echo to the way Vash's own body convulses and tightens around him. All the while, Wolfwood too is whispering Vash's name like a prayer, like he's confessing every sin to him he's ever committed, his entire body somehow tense and trembling all at the same time.]
[Vash might have thought that it couldn't get better than the orgasm that rips through him. Somehow though, the moment Wolfwood begins to fill him with his own spend, it does. He's felt deliciously full since the moment he felt Nick enter him, but this brings a whole new level. He tightens around his beloved, as if to draw the moment out that much longer. To hold it all in.
(Wolfwood might be worried about other implications. He needn't be. Like many other species, Vash could be considered a genetic dead end.)
As they both begin to come down, Vash's hands rise. He cradles Wolfwood to him, keeping him both on top and inside. If they're going to do this again, it doesn't make sense for him to go far. And if they're not? It isn't like Vash wants that lingering closeness to end anyway. He savors every whisper that Nick utters, believing for once that he's deserving of all the worship and adoration that thickens his voice.
Eventually, he lifts a hand to wipe at his face. A few stray tears have streaked down his face. Of course he would cry. But while they're here, he pauses to cradle both of Wolfwood's cheeks, angling his face upward just enough to meet his eyes. He presses a kiss to the side of his nose, over both eyes, and then on his forehead.]
Nick. [It isn't a command. Just a reverent whisper of his own.]
[It’s a good thing that Vash clutches him close like that, because he would have complained if he tried to pull away, much less pull out. He can feel that oversensitivity tingling on the edges of his senses, a pleasant ache in his groin that makes him want to keep moving even though he’s too exhausted to do anything else but lay there for now. Between the two of them, their combined strength and stamina is unparalleled, so Wolfwood has to ask himself why he feels like he’s just done this for the first time ever regardless. There are two wolves inside of him, one that’s going to want to fuck Vash again in like ten minutes, and another that wants to go to bed like a grandpa.
For now, he’s content with this. With laying his weight, heavy and final, across Vash’s front with Vash’s legs pincered tightly around his hips. He’s still inside him, the warmth so potent it’s almost searing, and it makes him want to sink into it and never resurface. His eyes flutter just as he feels Vash move underneath him, prompting a low sound from Wolfwood that’s briefly questioning, at least until he feels the Independent planting gentle kisses all over his face. It’s stupid, but while Vash started crying a while ago, it’s…that that finally causes Wolfwood’s own eyes to sting, his throat flexing as he swallows around the lump that’s formed there.
There’s so much he wants to say, he feels like, but it simply won’t come to mind. He’s numb with pleasure, delirious with satisfaction, and completely stupid with joy. He feels stupid over how much this man means to him. This man he was always meant to usher to his doom.
How the fuck is he supposed to go back home like this? How is he going to survive it?
He looks lost in thought, as he gazed down at Vash. As he leans in to brush their lips together. Then, for just a brief moment, his brows upturn and his expression tightens, like he’s going to start crying himself. He doesn’t- at least not in so open a way as Vash- at least not yet. But the feeling remains, as he speaks what’s on his heart, too drunk with pleasure to reconsider uttering it aloud.]
I love you. So fucking much. [He brushes some of Vash’s tears away with his thumb, his voice pitching an octave lower as he whispers between them.] You hear me?
[Vash's limbs feel heavy. Even holding Wolfwood's face feels like a herculean effort, though one he undertakes without complaint. He sweeps some of the hair from his face, before allowing his eyes to slip closed. He could sleep like this. Could keep going, too, but a lazy contentment is steadily starting to slip into his bones.
One eye cracks open when he feels Wolfwood start to respond. The other flies open the second he realizes that something is wrong. His lips part to ask after him, to make sure this moment isn't falling apart -
- and then press into a line the second Wolfwood speaks.
It isn't like Vash isn't in the same boat. He loves Wolfwood, has for weeks now. But like any other moment of closeness, it scares him. Risk rarely came with reward for him, and he fears this will be no different. Even worlds away from their problems, they were still at risk.
But if he wanted to run, the moment to do so had long passed. His hands slide down to Wolfwood's back, gripping him tight enough to cling. He knows that Wolfwood will figure it out, the latent resistance. The feeling of not deserving it. They've done this song and dance before. And this time, he won't turn away.
His face buries itself into the crook of the Punisher's neck. If he closes his eyes and holds tight, nothing will happen. They'll be okay.]
I - [A ragged breath here, thick with tears.] I hear you, Nick. I love you, too. So much.
[There is some part of him, deep in the back of his mind, that worries that by saying it aloud, he's doomed them both. People like the Humanoid Typhoon and the Punisher...they don't get to be happy. They don't get to have this. It feels like a fluke just to have each other.
And maybe, in some way, Wolfwood is kidding himself. This couldn't be sustainable back home, not with their very existences at odds with one another. He's setting himself up for failure and heartbreak at some point in time, but perhaps if he's lucky, he will grow old and die in this Grove long before any of that comes to pass. But that, he knows, would be the selfish cowardly way out. He'd be abandoning everything he's worked for all these years...the orphanage. The kids.
He can't do it. He won't.
But right now, with all of that physically beyond his reach, he's going to instead turn towards what he can have. He's sure of his decision the moment Vash wraps his arms around him and hugs him close, burying his face into the side of his neck. Right away, Wolfwood reciprocates, pressing his lips to Vash's temple. He'll be able to feel the tickle of his scruffy five-o-clock shadow against his cheeks, as well as the curl of his fingers now that they've once again found the back of his hair.]
...g-guess it's...official now, huh? [He murmurs against Vash's ear, nuzzling him with the bridge of his nose.] Get to legally call you my boyfriend.
[Blinking hard, he feels his own unshed tears finally spill over.]
[Here's the thing. At the end of the day, Vash would never ask Wolfwood to choose between the orphanage and himself. It isn't a question — the children would come first. It's the same with how he would, in the end, turn himself over willingly. If there was a chance to make things right back home by subjecting himself to Knives, then he would gladly take it.
But like with Wolfwood, he does his best not to think about it. Right now, there's no way to fight against the powers that have them trapped. And even if it would hurt, in the end, to go back to the way things were, it was as an old scholar had once said. It's better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all.
The soft laugh that leaves him is heavy with the exhaustion settling into his limbs. He knows he should get up and at least clean but... certainly he can't leave now when Wolfwood has just said something like that.]
Mmhm. Written into the great book of laws here now. Vash the Stampede and Nicholas D. Wolfwood are legally boyfriends.
[He doesn't know Wolfwood has begun to cry until he feels that first splash against his skin. Part of him instinctively wants to ask after the man. He fights the urge down just barely, ultimately assuming it better to not draw attention to his grief. Instead, he thumbs away those tears.]
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With some wiggling, Vash manages to finally ease himself back onto his back. It's easier to meet Wolfwood's eyes this way, especially now that he's free of those damn glasses. And though he is painfully aware that he should be doing something more for the man, his first instinct is to lean up and steal a kiss from him. It's quick, but no less adoring than any other.]
Kept you waiting long enough, haven't I? [He sighs as he lets his hand slip down lower. He toys at the hem of those ruined boxers — one of them is going to need to talk to Heimr about spares, aren't they — but doesn't quite dip any lower just yet.]
How do you want it? I can touch you like this, or... [His body shifts, one leg tipping to the side in order to open himself up again. He could absolutely go a second round, despite the accusations.]
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Vash. Trust me, I want nothin' more than to scramble your guts. [Oh okay-] But...I want you to touch me first. Yeah?
[Semi-reluctantly, he rolls over so that he's laying fully beside Vash again instead of crouched on top of him, which is far less difficult now that they've got two beds pushed together to work with. He settles back against the pillows, his own legs spread wide with plenty of room for Vash to settle between them.]
My cock ain't as interesting as yours, but I still think it's pretty sweet. If you wanted to have a look, that is.
[He's not even asking Vash to get him off, either. He just wants to give him the full experience.]
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You want to - what?! [He heaves this out even as he rolls over, settling over the top of Wolfwood's thighs. He soothes his hands over his legs, marveling over the coarse hair there, before ducking them inward. He can see that the fabric has been absolutely devastated by all the waiting he's had to do, and it makes his heart start to seize.]
Mm, guess I can see why you want my hands on you. [He lifts himself up into a squat as his hands slide upward, securing their place beneath the hem of his underwear. With little more preamble, they're tugged down, revealing Wolfwood in all his "pretty sweet" glory.]
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[He is showing a remarkable amount of restraint and patience here, Vash. He's been dying, and it's only the prospect of being touched soon that has kept him from simply pinning Vash to the mattress right here and now.
At least Vash doesn't have to fuss with his stupid undershirt, or slacks, or anything like that. The underwear come off just as easily as anything (well, maybe with a LITTLE trouble, they're fucking drenched after all), and even Wolfwood isn't immune to the way it makes him feel to finally be exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. He groans under his breath, brows knitting together as he tries to remember to stay put, for Vash's sake.
And, well! It's a cock! A very human one at that. There's nothing particularly special about it, in all honesty. He doesn't have any piercings- he's not that wild- and as one might expect, he's incredibly unkempt down there, same as he is pretty much everywhere else on his body. Though, he wasn't exactly lying; he's bigger than average, and it shows with the way he's standing proudly at attention, flushed dark and desperate for contact. Never mind the fact he's been dripping this entire time, and even now it leaks, dribbling precum down the underside of the shaft.]
Haahh...so? What's the damage?
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Which wasn't to say that Vash wasn't marveling at the size him as it is. He can feel his own mouth beginning to salivate, spurred by the thought of befouling his mouth with the taste of him.]
Hmm. [Vash hums to himself playfully as he lowers himself. He settles on one elbow as he angles his head at the level of the cock he's currently inspecting. His free hand lifts, stroking his chin with a near comical level of deliberation. Then, with only a hint of hesitation, he leans forward to lick a stripe upward, deliberately sweeping his tongue so as to lap up that dribble of precome. Admittedly, it isn't the most pleasant taste, but he manages to keep from wrinkling his nose outright.]
I see. [The clinical tone lingers for just a second more, before a grin splits over his lips.] So that's where the D in your name comes from!
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He shudders inwardly, his fingers pulling at the sheets to distract himself from just how badly he wants to buck his hips at just that much. He manages to keep his knees parted, but only just...and then Vash decides to ruin everything by sitting back and opening his stupid mouth.
...Wolfwood makes a face, suddenly lifting one of his feet so he can knock his heel (lightly) against the side of Vash's head.]
If you didn't just have your mouth on me, I woulda' kicked your ass on the floor for that.
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What? For telling you you have good Wolfwood
[He's still chuckling even as he tips his head downward, parting his lips so as to take the head of Wolfwood's cock into his mouth. He's careful to avoid brushing his teeth over anything sensitive, and he doesn't let himself dip down too far either. He can see how much he's wanted, and as flattering as it is, they won't be able to go much further of Wolfwood loses it now.
That doesn't keep his tongue from 'round the head one last time. He savors the touch even as his own hand slips between his legs, openly palming against himself as he savors the weight on his tongue. His pleasure is hummed out, lashes aflutter, as his head lifts. He doesn't leave Wolfwood without contact for long, though. The now slicked up palm is carefully wrapped around his dick, pumping once as Vash flicks his gaze upward to watch Nick's face.]
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[He lies, like a liar. He loves when Vash talks, actually, even when the stupidest bullshit imaginable falls out of that mouth of his. Fortunately for them both, what Vash does next sufficiently distracts him, to the point where he thinks he might actually have to stop him there because they won't be getting much further if he blows his load now. Granted, he's more than willing to go multiple, triple rounds, but also..........also....he has needs, and wants, and only so much patience to go around.
His body flinches as he sucks in a ahrsh breath through his teeth, because now it's his turn to be overwhelmed by the heat of pleasure coiling tight in the pit of his gut. It's not even just the sensation either, but watching Vash go down on him is something he never thought he'd want to commit to his memory, but holy shit. Holy shit-]
Vash-
[He starts, his voice gravely as his shoulders shift like he's going to sit forward, but Vash is already moving before he can. And...
...oh.
Oh.
Wolfwood's mouth drops open as he watches Vash unabashedly collect the slick from his own length and entrance, gathering it up on his palm so he can more easily wrap it around Wolfwood's cock for better, more comfortable purchase. Something flickers in the other man's gaze just then, and it's pretty obviously lust and want, because more than anything he wants Vash, he's realizing.
At least now that isn't something he has to pretend. Not anymore.]
Y-y...you're so...fucking hot...
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Do you want me like this, Nick?
[It'd be a hell of a view, having Wolfwood pinned under him. He can only imagine how it might feel with that chest braced beneath his hands, keeping him steady as he rocks his hips. Vash feels dizzy with just the thought, let alone actually going through the effort.]
You're the one that wanted to... scramble my guts? [Another snort.] Hate to interrupt whatever pretty fantasies you've got going on in that head.
[Maybe Vash could make an effort to sound more sexy. But as it stands, he just sounds like his usual, playful self. Perhaps even more so, considering that his current enjoyment is entirely genuine.]
I'll do whatever you want, Nick. Just say the word.
[His hand has not stopped moving the entire time. Each movement is long and drawn out, more to have contact than to actually pull the man toward his edge. It wouldn't do to have it end so quickly, would it?]
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It's rare that Wolfwood is left at a loss for words, but this is truly one of those times. His brain feels like Vash reached out and squeezed it until he had no more rational thoughts left in his brain that weren't horny in some way. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? For Vash to just...sink down on top of him, like this. He's right there, practically dripping on top of him, pliant and waiting. He thinks he wants that, too, but he also wants everything else. He wants...
He just wants.
He's panting now, every breath pulled out of him in a heave like he's run a marathon. Never before in his life has he gotten this worked up about just being touched by someone else's hand, but there you go. Somehow, Vash has managed it, and it's driving him absolutely insane. But he knows what he's been imagining this entire time. He knows it, and...
...He can't wait anymore.
Vash didn't really even fully get that last sentence past his lips before Wolfwood started to sit up, sit forward with one of his hands reaching out to take Vash by the shoulder. Initially, he wouldn't be blamed for thinking "oh shit, I fucked up", like he's done something wrong and Wolfwood is trying to stop him now, or something. But that couldn't be further from the truth.
He uses the leverage of his hand to push Vash over, shoving him down onto his side so that he's laying horizontally across the shared mattresses. This is the longest part of the entire bed they've gotten set up here, and just as Vash is likely turning over onto his back to figure out what the hell just happened, he's being pushed back down by Wolfwood descending upon him, their mouths crashing together in a clumsy, desperate kiss. He keeps Vash pinned there line that, one hand holding his good arm down (he doubts he physically could restrain the prosthetic, even if he wanted to) while his other hand buries itself deep in the back of his hair. And for a moment, this is all he does...he kisses Vash like it's the last thing he'll ever do, until Vash maybe realizes through the desperate flurry that Wolfwood is lining himself up between Vash's legs.
Only when they're both struggling to breathe does Wolfwood finally pull back, their breath mingling in the small bit of space he's left between them.]
I want...you, you...you idiot. I need you.
[The grip on Vash's hair lessens, just a fraction. He hasn't plunged into him yet, not like he wants, but...it's because he's searching Vash's expression, one last time. His eyes dart, seeking out any hints of reluctance there. Of regret. Because he can still remember that night when they kissed for the first time, and then the aftermath, when Vash told him he was better off anywhere else.
And for just a moment, Wolfwood's expression carries the energy of that of a petulant child, who might just throw a tantrum if Vash suddenly decided to say "no".]
I need...to make you feel. As important to me as you make me feel.
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His lips ache by the time Wolfwood pulls away, but that doesn't keep Vash from being petulant right back. There's no reluctance here, just an outright pout as he tries to crane upward once more.]
I need you [He affirms. His expression softens though, and he lets his head come to rest on the mattress once more. He reaches a hand up, cupping Wolfwood's cheek, then carding through his hair as gentle as possible.] Not that you need to do that, just to make me feel important. I feel it right now, Nick.
[And it's true that he does. Beneath all of the lust, there's a part of him that feels warm and at peace. They could stop right now, and he'd be content wrapped up in Wolfwood's arms. They've fought countless times. He's sure they'll fight again, too. But right now, that doesn't matter. Nick has given him more kindness than most any other human he's ever met before.
It's not an answer that will fly, though. Nor does Vash want it to. For all his words, he still wants Wolfwood. And that's why he reaches downward once more, grasping at the other man's cock as he tries to position his own body just right.]
But I'm all yours, Nick. I promise.
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It's what he needed to hear.
Since Vash has a grip on him down below, Wolfwood doesn't have to worry quite as much about his positioning. It means Vash can guide him right where he needs to be, so their cocks don't awkwardly collide or he doesn't somehow miss his mark entirely. He exhales on a shaking breath, and with sweat rolling down his face he finally, finally, sinks himself forward into that wet, tight heat.
And he's pretty sure that if he didn't have some level of experience under his belt, that first push would have been it. He would have blown his load right then and there, because how could he not? It feels every bit as incredible as he imagined it would, and it's just the tip that he's worked in. The glide is completely effortless with how wet Vash has become, he really doesn't have to worry about resistance, and the moan that he breathes out is guttural and deep as he slips inside.
Vash is so soft, and warm. It's hard to imagine just how he could be any different from a human, while also being completely alien in so many ways. He reacts the same as any person would during sex, though, and it fills Wolfwood with such a sense of satisfaction that he feels like he might collapse under the pressure. He cradles the back of Vash's head again, kissing his face and neck as he sinks in those last few centimeters needed to fill Vash up completely, resisting the urge to just start moving right away. No, he wants to savor this. He wants to ponder the feeling of how Vash's cock, outside of his body and above where Wolfwood rests, is currently laying against the base of Wolfwood's, leaving him with a bizarre sensation he couldn't possibly place.
It's good. It's...really damn good.]
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Like Wolfwood, it's a wonder he doesn't lose it. At least it wouldn't be the end of the world comparatively, but he's grateful to hang on all the same. The closer they get to coming together, the better.
While Vash's hand might not feel the need to continue to encourage Wolfwood, the same can't be said for the rest of his body. His cock, pressed near the other man's as it is, seems to respond in kind. It wraps the very tip around the man, as if to keep him held close. There isn't so much resistance that he can't move, merely an additional pressure to satisfy him.
Beyond that, Vash doesn't do much to try and spur Wolfwood forward, not yet. Like him, he's content with basking in the sensation of being filled. It's an intimacy he's experienced once before, but never on a level like this. His last partner hadn't bothered with those careful kisses. He can't even remember if they bothered learning each other's names.
It's nothing like this. It's nothing like Wolfwood. And while he angles away from the kisses after a moment, it's only to meet his partner's gaze. Better that he be subjected to that outright, unfiltered adoration he thinks.]
You feel - amazing, Nick.
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He huffs, a laugh of disbelief, now that he's fully seated inside Vash.]
So do you. Vash.
[The nicknames, endearing as they are, don't come to mind for him right now. It's just Vash.
Wolfwood knows that no matter how blissful he feels, he can't linger like this for too long. Not only will the impatience win out, but his body may just give up on him if he's forced to wait another moment without relief. He's selfish, he's not going to deny it. He said he wanted to scramble Vash's guts and god damn if he isn't going to make good on that promise. So...once he feels that Vash has adopted a comfortable hold on him, he finally deigns to try moving.]
O-ohhh fuck.
[It's like he's been put right back into the shoes of himself when he did this the first time, and one slight movement was enough to make him lose it. He can feel it burning on the edges of his self control, that urge to rush through this and work himself to his peak already. And he'll get there, he will, but there's some merit to taking it slow too...which he's doing right now. He pulls out of Vash just a fraction, the sound of it slick and wet between them, before he sinks back into him again. It's not a real rhythm so much as it is Wolfwood getting his bearings, trying his best not to cream him in two seconds and be known as the worst lay Vash has ever had.
His neck cranes, back bowing as he presses his face briefly into Vash's neck.]
Fuck, Vash.
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And while Nick might have had his own reasons, it had never been lost on Vash that he deliberately used nicknames in the place of actually addressing someone. It was just another one of the myriad ways he and Wolfwood had proven to be two halves of a broken whole. But that barrier had long since fallen away for them. Now, they were more than accidental comrades, or anything like that.
They were friends. Lovers. Perhaps something more. And nothing made that more clear than the fact that Wolfwood willingly called him by name. More than anything he'd felt that night, the mouth against his skin, the fullness he feels now, that fact is what threatens to throw him over the edge.
But he's been out of the moment for far too long. He focuses in just as Wolfwood pulls out, leaving him to briefly wonder if he's fucked up. But no, his cock slides back in just as quick, filling him once more with that indescribable fullness. His body arches upward immediately, a keening noise leaving him as the waves of pleasure ripple through him. The hand against Wolfwood's back tightens, biting at the skin just enough to leave dents in it.]
Yeah, Yeah, Nick. Just like that.
[It's a bit disappointing, how close they both already are. Trying to draw it out much longer would be a fools errand, but he hopes Wolfwood will try anyway. Anything to have just a few extra seconds with him.]
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Wolfwood isn't exactly a normal human himself. Superhuman, in essence. And he's decided that unless Vash protests, he's going to keep going until one or the other of them can't go any more.
Vash's gentle praise only serves to spur him on further. He can feel his own cock leaping deep inside Vash, equal parts begging for stimulus as much as release, yet he's forcing himself to restrain it, if only for just a few moments more. Please, he just wants...to be like this with Vash for a bit longer.
His movements are jerky. Sloppy, and uncoordinated. It takes a little bit for him to find his rhythm, his thighs quaking as each errant twitch sends shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. There's a moan of Vash's name on his lips, reverent and low, as he rolls his hips and rocks back into him again. Soon, that tenuous movement becomes a proper rhythm, slow and languid and purposeful. And...for as much as he kept imagining that he would fuck Vash into a smear on the mattress in a way that was rough and punishing, he's...not doing that.
As corny as it sounds, they're not just having sex. They're making love. And it makes Wolfwood's chest ache as he envelops Vash with his body, this time seeking to kiss his lips like before as he moves.
His friend. His lover. Boyfriend. Vice.
There's irony in a man doomed to hell falling in love with an angel.]
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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 -
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But that's just it, really. In spite of all of Wolfwood's posturing, every time he claims to be above it all, the reality is that this is what he craves. In a perfect world, their lives would be peaceful and idyllic. They would be able to simply live without worry of strife, and could be together without the looming shadow of what new disaster tomorrow is going to bring. Wolfwood would be able to grow old with Vash knowing that everything he'd done in his life had been worth it, since it lead up to this moment right here.
They still have work to do, back home. Far be it from them to think that this could be their happily ever after when the planet remains locked in a perpetual battle that Vash has found himself right at the center of, with Wolfwood bringing up the rear. Even here, it lingers in the back of his mind, leaving him to wonder what the point of all of this must be. Why allow it to happen, knowing that it could be torn away at any moment?
It's because...he thinks, he's realized that this- too- is worth fighting for. The way he feels when he's with Vash, like this. It's not unlike the love in his heart he clings to when he thinks of Hopeland. Livio. Things and people he would gladly throw away his life for. Vash...he's become something precious to Wolfwood, someone that completes him in a way he never thought could be possible for someone so fundamentally broken. While part of him can't help but push back against the notion that something like this relationship could be at all on the same level as the things he's spent his whole life trying to protect, the fact remains that there's no going back from this point onward.
Vash thanks him. He thanks him, and then stutters out an apology.
Wolfwood, in contrast, breathes out a softly amused huff as he brings Vash a bit closer to himself, his lips still grazing the corner of his mouth as he suddenly picks up the pace. Those slow, languid thrusts suddenly turn quicker, rapid pistoning of his hips that press Vash into the mattress underneath, as if trying to eke out just that much more contact before the two of them need a break.]
Shut up. [It couldn't be said more fondly, his voice thick with arousal as he whispers it against Vash's ear.] Don't apologize. Just- ah...feel it. Enjoy it.
[He hits Vash in a particularly good way between words, keening a sound into his ear that Vash has likely never heard the man make before, reserved only for him.]
I'm close too. T-together...yeah?
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The pace increases, and Vash's own hips stutter in their efforts to meet Wolfwood. He falters, and falls back into the mattress, toes curling into the fabric of the sheets. Surely, surely he can be forgiven for simply taking it in these last few minutes. His fingers do clutch at Wolfwood's back, or tug at his hair. And of course he sings the man his praises.
The heat grows. It grows until he thinks it might consume him, immolate the both of them until there's nothing left.]
Fuck - Nick. Nick please -
[And then it's too much. It bursts, a racing wildfire that leaves him gasping at first, then outright sobbing onto Wolfwood's shoulder. His cock, for a mercy, does not grip tight against his partner, nor does it make the same horrid mess before. The rest of him does not grant that same mercy, all but drenching Wolfwood and their connected thighs with that sticky, sappy mess.
Their new bed may or may not be ruined. Vash doesn't give a damn. He's too busy whimpering into Wolfwood's skin, tears spilling down and mixing with the sweat they've both accumulated.]
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It's not rare to sleep with someone. It is rare to feel like you've truly connected. It's a feeling he doesn't want to take for granted, just as much as he can't help but lament the fact that it's ending so soon.
But...they have time here, don't they? All of a sudden, they have all of the time in the world.
Just as Vash can't hold on for much longer, Wolfwood is feeling his body give out on him. He hasn't peaked at all yet, so it's a miracle he didn't bust the second he slipped inside Vash. He thinks it might be because he's so laser focused on him and wanting him to feel good that it's hard to feel too selfish in that regard, even if his very chest burns with desire and need all at the same time. And in those last few moments, he doesn't care that Vash lays back and simply takes what he's being given. It means that Wolfwood can focus all of his efforts on making Vash feel good, angling his hips just right so it hits him in the deepest, most sensitive places he has. Choking on a moan when he feels the way Vash's length curls around his own at the base, squeezing gently, encouraging. The two of them become a chorus of nonsense sounds and moaning, of stuttering each others' names in ecstasy.
Then, just when Wolfwood is certain he isn't going to be able to take any more, Vash snaps, his whole body rocking into him like a coiled spring suddenly released. He can feel it as he cums, the way he soaks him with his release, and if it weren't for Vash holding onto him so tightly, he might be afraid he'd slip right out. Thankfully, there's no possibility of that. Not when Wolfwood buries himself to the hilt and catches his teeth along the side of Vash's neck, his back arching and every muscle in his shoulders tensing as he- finally- feels his own orgasm race like lightning through his entire body.]
Vash...Vash-ah--!
[He does not even think about trying to pull out. He doesn't...ponder, if that could be a problem, or what it could mean, or anything. He stays as deep as he can get and he fills Vash with everything he has, his body pumping into him rhythmically in echo to the way Vash's own body convulses and tightens around him. All the while, Wolfwood too is whispering Vash's name like a prayer, like he's confessing every sin to him he's ever committed, his entire body somehow tense and trembling all at the same time.]
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(Wolfwood might be worried about other implications. He needn't be. Like many other species, Vash could be considered a genetic dead end.)
As they both begin to come down, Vash's hands rise. He cradles Wolfwood to him, keeping him both on top and inside. If they're going to do this again, it doesn't make sense for him to go far. And if they're not? It isn't like Vash wants that lingering closeness to end anyway. He savors every whisper that Nick utters, believing for once that he's deserving of all the worship and adoration that thickens his voice.
Eventually, he lifts a hand to wipe at his face. A few stray tears have streaked down his face. Of course he would cry. But while they're here, he pauses to cradle both of Wolfwood's cheeks, angling his face upward just enough to meet his eyes. He presses a kiss to the side of his nose, over both eyes, and then on his forehead.]
Nick. [It isn't a command. Just a reverent whisper of his own.]
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For now, he’s content with this. With laying his weight, heavy and final, across Vash’s front with Vash’s legs pincered tightly around his hips. He’s still inside him, the warmth so potent it’s almost searing, and it makes him want to sink into it and never resurface. His eyes flutter just as he feels Vash move underneath him, prompting a low sound from Wolfwood that’s briefly questioning, at least until he feels the Independent planting gentle kisses all over his face. It’s stupid, but while Vash started crying a while ago, it’s…that that finally causes Wolfwood’s own eyes to sting, his throat flexing as he swallows around the lump that’s formed there.
There’s so much he wants to say, he feels like, but it simply won’t come to mind. He’s numb with pleasure, delirious with satisfaction, and completely stupid with joy. He feels stupid over how much this man means to him. This man he was always meant to usher to his doom.
How the fuck is he supposed to go back home like this? How is he going to survive it?
He looks lost in thought, as he gazed down at Vash. As he leans in to brush their lips together. Then, for just a brief moment, his brows upturn and his expression tightens, like he’s going to start crying himself. He doesn’t- at least not in so open a way as Vash- at least not yet. But the feeling remains, as he speaks what’s on his heart, too drunk with pleasure to reconsider uttering it aloud.]
I love you. So fucking much. [He brushes some of Vash’s tears away with his thumb, his voice pitching an octave lower as he whispers between them.] You hear me?
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One eye cracks open when he feels Wolfwood start to respond. The other flies open the second he realizes that something is wrong. His lips part to ask after him, to make sure this moment isn't falling apart -
- and then press into a line the second Wolfwood speaks.
It isn't like Vash isn't in the same boat. He loves Wolfwood, has for weeks now. But like any other moment of closeness, it scares him. Risk rarely came with reward for him, and he fears this will be no different. Even worlds away from their problems, they were still at risk.
But if he wanted to run, the moment to do so had long passed. His hands slide down to Wolfwood's back, gripping him tight enough to cling. He knows that Wolfwood will figure it out, the latent resistance. The feeling of not deserving it. They've done this song and dance before. And this time, he won't turn away.
His face buries itself into the crook of the Punisher's neck. If he closes his eyes and holds tight, nothing will happen. They'll be okay.]
I - [A ragged breath here, thick with tears.] I hear you, Nick. I love you, too. So much.
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And maybe, in some way, Wolfwood is kidding himself. This couldn't be sustainable back home, not with their very existences at odds with one another. He's setting himself up for failure and heartbreak at some point in time, but perhaps if he's lucky, he will grow old and die in this Grove long before any of that comes to pass. But that, he knows, would be the selfish cowardly way out. He'd be abandoning everything he's worked for all these years...the orphanage. The kids.
He can't do it. He won't.
But right now, with all of that physically beyond his reach, he's going to instead turn towards what he can have. He's sure of his decision the moment Vash wraps his arms around him and hugs him close, burying his face into the side of his neck. Right away, Wolfwood reciprocates, pressing his lips to Vash's temple. He'll be able to feel the tickle of his scruffy five-o-clock shadow against his cheeks, as well as the curl of his fingers now that they've once again found the back of his hair.]
...g-guess it's...official now, huh? [He murmurs against Vash's ear, nuzzling him with the bridge of his nose.] Get to legally call you my boyfriend.
[Blinking hard, he feels his own unshed tears finally spill over.]
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But like with Wolfwood, he does his best not to think about it. Right now, there's no way to fight against the powers that have them trapped. And even if it would hurt, in the end, to go back to the way things were, it was as an old scholar had once said. It's better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all.
The soft laugh that leaves him is heavy with the exhaustion settling into his limbs. He knows he should get up and at least clean but... certainly he can't leave now when Wolfwood has just said something like that.]
Mmhm. Written into the great book of laws here now. Vash the Stampede and Nicholas D. Wolfwood are legally boyfriends.
[He doesn't know Wolfwood has begun to cry until he feels that first splash against his skin. Part of him instinctively wants to ask after the man. He fights the urge down just barely, ultimately assuming it better to not draw attention to his grief. Instead, he thumbs away those tears.]
You're even more stuck with me now.
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