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Even over the noise of the crowd, Vash picks it. A melody he is well-versed in its notes as he is in the elegant fingers producing it. He stops dead in his tracks, deaf to anything else, barely registering someone bumping into his shoulder.
It’s not fear that roots his feet where he is. It’s something hotter but just as primal and raw.
“I found you. Vash.”
It’s a call that Vash has followed blindly in the past. The notes carried by the wind are meant to invite—to tempt. It’s a peace offering that comes at the same time every year without fail. A call for a wordless truce that has been refused by Vash this year. An overdue rendezvous.
He tries to fight it, but…
“Come.”
Time has softened the sharp edges of his anger, allowing his longing to thrive and his reluctance to crumble under its weight. Vash turns around, bewitched and seduced. He forgets about Meryl and the rest and follows the sound of the piano.
Nai’s pursuit is less desperate, almost as eager, but more precise when it’s the other way around. He resembles a predator enjoying a hunt rather than a thirsty man seeking an oasis like Vash currently feels.
A game, a tradition, a necessity. Vash has given it—this—several titles trying to make sense of it.
“Why would you seek sense of something you already refused to understand? You’re so nonsensical, Vash.”
Nai claims that he knows what this impetuous need is. Yet, he refuses to share it, reveling in Vash’s confusion instead. Every twelve months, they seek each other out. Both have instigated it at some point, and both have followed the other with such obedience it goes beyond Vash’s understanding.
“Moths to a flame, Vash.”
But, is he the moth? Or is he the flame?
The music comes from the highest building in the town. There, on the last floor, Nai is expecting him.
“Nai,” Vash greets when he finally finds him.
Nai’s fingers glide smoothly across the keyboard. Music continues, its tempo unrushed and deliberate. Nai has yet to look at him, but Vash knows that his blood, unlike the unchanging rhythm of his melody, is rushing, pumping his heart at the same pace Vash’s is.
He’s close to the window, and the moonlight drapes over him like a thin veil. He’s beautiful, infuriatingly so. They are the same, and yet, they are so different in Vash’s eyes. Face, body, heart, everything but the soul.
Never the soul.
“Did you get lost, Vash?” Nai smirks at him; the knowing curl of his lips is charged with seduction. “Or could it be that you were looking for excuses to leave your pets behind?”
Vash didn’t even think about them before he took off. But, of course, Nai doesn’t need to know that, so instead, he says, “Don’t call them that.”
“You took so long. I was getting bored,” Nai continues.
The music dies under Nai’s fingers with a sudden finality that leaves Vash feeling naked. Finally free from a reverie that once again overcame reason, a weighing load is dropped on his shoulders. It’s the weight of human lives crushed under walls that once smelled like antiseptic instead of smoke and fire. It’s the weight of his guilt because human deaths were not as significant to stop him from seeking Nai. It’s the weight of three unbearable months he’s fought against the impulse to see, touch, and love Nai—the urge to be loved in return.
“Are you still mad?” Nai asks, reading into his silence. “Get over it, Vash.”
“People died, Nai!”
“The hospital was simply a casualty.” Nai stands; his shadow draws long and stretches until it touches Vash’s feet. Something so simple shouldn’t make Vash’s pulse pick up. “The only thing I care about is us.”
Vash knows he means their kind, but both of them, ultimately.
“Is this why you’ve avoided me?” Nai asks, drawing closer, gentle fingers reaching for Vash’s cheek. “I figured it was some childish tantrum. I didn’t think it was something that happened almost a year ago.”
Vash squares his shoulders and grits his teeth. He is angry at Nai but mostly furious at himself. War doesn’t exist in their little bubble. Guns and knives are replaced with passion and an unmovable sense of belonging, both sunk deeper than any bullet or blade could be. Both are chains that Vash isn’t sure he is fighting as hard as he should be.
“Why do you always have to choose death?”
“Plague is not to be mourned over, Vash.”
Vash growls and slaps Nai’s hand away. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Because—”
“Because it’s been over a year since the last time we met like this, and you’re a ticking bomb, brother.”
Vash winces at such undeniable truth. He can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t live without his body screaming for Nai. Nights are cold and he’s feverish, and even under the unforgiving sun, the freezing void in his chest leaves him shaking. He’s sick and his medicine is a face he shares and the first name he ever uttered.
“Stop running away, Vash.”
Nai holds his face in his hand, keeping him in place as Vash’s body vibrates with badly suppressed want.
It’s been unbearable.
It is unbearable.
Vash has tried to get rid of it—of Nai and the ownership over his body. Vash has touched himself while looking at his reflection in the mirror, expecting to delude his mind and find relief. But such a desperate attempt only made all that was amiss more evident. His eyes were not as sharp, the shade of blond was too bright, even his body failed to mimic a touch he knows by heart.
Nai has no way of knowing what he’s done, and yet the sharp edges of his lips are charged with petulance and pride, almost as if he’s aware of everything.
“Nai…” Vash calls him like he’s pleading.
He can’t help but respond to Nai’s touch; he nuzzles the palm of his hand and kisses the inside. It snaps something in Nai too. His breath falters before he pulls Vash against his expecting lips. It’s been so long since Vash has tasted them; they are an addiction he has failed to overcome, triggering a bomb he could not set off himself.
The hospital, the humans, those three months of guilt and frustration are still on his shoulders, but Nai flicks them away as if they weigh nothing, leaving Vash lighter and free.
“You are drained,” Nai points out against his lips. He guides him toward the piano. Vash has no energy to protest when he realizes the room is bare except for it.
“So are you.” No matter how well Nai tries to hide it, Vash knows it. He can feel it.
Vash is led toward the bench, blind to the world as he’s connected to his brother’s lips. The solemn atmosphere is broken by the notes produced under Vash’s digits when he seeks support on the piano. When he opens his eyes, he finds Nai kneeling between his legs, already working on pulling his trousers down.
This ritual is as old as them; by then, Vash has forgone any shame. All it’s left is an exhilarating sense of ownership and satisfaction that never gets old. It’s only there and then, where destruction and deep-rooted beliefs can’t touch them, that Nai allows himself to serve. Here, they remain a family, brothers, half of each. Here they are complete and free from the outside world.
“Vash,” Nai sighs reverently against his leg, moving torturously slow toward his core. His breath is warm, tickling so pleasantly that Vash trembles with anticipation.
Vash loses his coat and then touches his brother’s cloak, prompting him, “Nai, you too.”
Nai doesn’t stop nor does he move from where he is. He continues with his task but follows Vash’s request silently when he turns his cloak into chains of knives that retreat to his back. Regardless of the setting, Vash has always considered the wave of steel beautiful.
“Let me smell you, Vash.” Nai looks up, his eyes filled with intention when he runs his canines through Vash’s tighs.
Vash gasps brokenly and throws his head back. More fragmented notes fly from under his elbow when he finds leverage on the keyboard. He spreads his legs and presents himself to his brother. Unlike Nai, his genitalia is not exposed. Thin, delicate skin resembling petals protects and hides his slit.
Nai has always enjoyed opening Vash with nothing but his mouth. He doesn’t even need to get closer to Vash’s petals. He works sucking his skin, biting his thighs, licking the junction between his leg and pubic bone. He’s meticulously slow, taking pleasure in listening to Vash grow desperate and add lewdness to the broken melody played by his fingers.
It takes time, a delicious torture, but finally, like a flower blooming in spring, Vash’s petals open. Unhurriedly and sensually, his slit is exposed; the petals around it unfurl and stand, resembling little wings. The air around them is flooded with a sweet scent—Vash’s scent.
Nai tilts his nose and takes a deep breath, savoring him in the air. “You’re mouthwatering, Vash.”
“Don’t say embarrassing things, Nai.” Vash bites his lower lip, self-conscious.
The saccharine scent wafting through the air is nothing like Nai’s. His is less sweet, more earthy and natural. A fragrance that is purely Nai; strong, dangerous, raw. He tastes as delicious as it smells. Vash has drank every drop of his brother’s flavor with fervor, thirsty like a dehydrated man…
…Thirsty like Nai looks right now.
“I’m only pointing out a fact,” Nai states before he dives his nose straight into Vash’s pussy, inhaling deeply.
“N-Nai!” Vash’s hands fly to his brother’s shoulders. His legs closing around his head.
Nai’s ready for his reaction and holds them steady to avoid getting crushed. No matter how many times Nai does this, it never gets easier for Vash to feel less ashamed. Despite the humiliation burning his cheeks, he has no strength or willingness to deny Nai anything regarding his body.
Nai resurfaces from between his legs like a man who just came from the deepest waters. He is still savoring him when he sighs, unbothered by the wetness around his nose and mouth. He looks at Vash straight in the eye and licks the vestiges of his juices with deliberation.
Vash knows that Nai is aware of what his performance does to him.
The air around grows heavier as another wave of Vash’s scent hits. He’s dripping wet, slick running down his thighs, soaking the bench. It’s unbearably mortifying when Nai has yet to fully touch him.
“Nai,” Vash calls, voice tremulous, skin feverish.
“Nai, please,” he begs as his hand draws lower, wanting to ease the tension in his core.
“See Vash. You made this to yourself.” Nai captures his hand. He’s gentle when he says it, contrasting the coldness of his eyes and the anger behind them. They’ve been apart for so long and now Vash is on the brink of madness.
They both are; Nai has more composure and pride to let it show.
“Nai… It hurts. I want… I… ”
Nai knows what he wants. He knows what he needs. He takes pity on his brother and allows him some relief. His thumb draws lazy circles on the puffy bud above Vash’s slit. Unlike his petals, Vash’s clit needs to be stimulated directly to help it flourish.
Vash’s pistil is big when it swells, and the pressure on the little nub that holds it together drives Vash insane. Nai has taken advantage of this when he feels especially vindictive. But right now, his eager fingers work to set it free. Vash’s scent is pure and clean; when his pistil is released, it adds the sensual quality to it. The quality of sex, the arousing notes of a lover ready to be taken, a mate needing to be filled. When freed from its confines, the scent is everything Nai yearns for.
Nai holds Vash’s legs steady when they quiver on his shoulders. The long whine that follows is drowned out by the piano when Vash’s hands move along the keyboard. A second later, another more intense wave of sweetness hits when Vash’s pistil unfurls. It permeates the air around them and announces the first orgasm of the night for Vash.
Nai allows Vash a moment before he bites his thigh scoldingly. “You came without my permission.”
The tension on Vash’s clit was too much; easing the pressure was enough for him to come. The dizziness of a sudden orgasm leaves Vash breathing hard and fast, wishing for more.
“Nai, please,” Vash begs, spreading his legs, exposing his slit and erect clit. “This is not enough. I want you.”
Vash knows how to push Nai. He knows Nai is aware of it too.
This connection, this possession, goes both ways.
Nai huffs, his control visibly slipping as the air around them fogs with Vash’s ecstasy. It’s evident that he wants to keep toying with Vash and make him regret avoiding him. Nai doesn’t know true pleasure nor how to reach a satisfying peak if it’s not with his twin, his only meaningful connection. It’s been so long for him to keep pretending he is patient and composed. His grip is strong and desperate. His veins flow with a stream of arousal that builds pressure on his navel.
Vash sees all that and more.
Nai stands up, and Vash is quick to understand the voiceless order. He sits straight and finds his brother’s lust taking shape under his tight suit. He knows his brother’s flavor and how thick he is inside his mouth, the strain he puts on his jaw, and how to take him without suffocating.
He isn’t sure where he needs Nai first anymore.
“You’re drooling, Vash.” Nai runs his thumb over the corner of his mouth, cleaning a thin trail of saliva.
There’s no room for embarrassment when a more primal need has taken over Vash. Just like Nai, he sinks his nose in his brother’s groin and takes a deep breath. Desperate for a taste, he sticks his tongue out and draws the shape of Nai’s cock. He begins with the thick base, moving to outline its length and finishing sucking the rounded tip. Even with the annoying layer of clothes between them, Vash can still savor him. And despite the indirect contact, Nai twitches under his tongue, growing harder. He throws his head back and pets Vash’s head, indulging him before he says with a sense of finality, “That’s enough, Vash.”
Nai cradles his chin, then commands against his lips, “Stay.”
He takes a step back, and Vash’s body burns with the desire to follow and close the gap. It’s not fear that makes him stay put, but blind obedience. The kind that only fits in their intimacy.
The white, patterned layer covering Nai’s body is swept away into his back like his cloak did. Nai smirks as he bares himself with deliberate slowness, taking pleasure in stretching Vash’s thin patience as far as he’s able.
Vash can’t contain the pitiful whine that leaves his mouth. The cock erected between Nai’s legs looks fat and full, promising a tight fit and a swollen belly once it’s inside. It’s thick at the base, surrounded by three protuberances that make it wider than a human’s. Once freed, the rounded tip unfolds and blooms into a pointy end; smelling like the greenery the vast ocean of sand lacks, deep and earthy, and complementing the sweetness Vash released in the air minutes before.
It’s perfect.
It’s addictive.
The combination makes Vash’s nostrils flare in tandem with the petals between his legs.
Nai is silent when he extends his hand. Vash doesn’t lose time to discard his shirt, spring to his feet, and take his invitation. He’s pulled against Nai the moment he’s within reach. Skin on skin, his body vibrates with arousal when they come in contact. They’re both sweaty and feverish, both prey to a higher, more primal need. Nai grabs his face; the possessiveness of his grip makes his core throb and release more of his slickness. He can feel it running down his thighs in streams.
“Nai, please…” he begs once again. He’s trying to push forward and taste Nai’s lips, but his brother holds him in place. “I get it, okay? I… I shouldn’t have avoided you.”
“Is that so?”
“Y-yeah. Please just… Give me what we both came here for. I… I can’t wait… Not anymore…”
The heavy fog of their pheromones combined and the uncomfortable tension between his legs are too much. Vash is reaching a point where words and thoughts can no longer take shape. But it’s his eyes, the plea they hold, the silent conversation that passes between them that make Nai yield because—
Four hundred and sixty-nine days.
—it has been too long.
They are infinite, and yet, the time that slots between them when they are apart feels longer.
Time, lust, and an acute sense of survival push Nai to crush his lips into Vash’s. He’s starving. They are starving.
Nai’s kiss is everything he is; demanding, intense, delicious. Vash has tasted every part of his brother, but nothing compares to the flavor Nai holds on his tongue. The whisper with Vash’s name and the bites meant to claim property, bruise for a show and tell, make it all the more satisfying.
Nai’s cock pulses against Vash’s abdomen, urging them. Without breaking the kiss, Nai leads him back to the piano. He closes the fallboard and makes him sit on top. It’s a narrow fit, but they’ve made it work with less.
“You’re so wet, Vash.” Nai runs his finger through the length of his slit, starting from the bottom and stopping at the base of his pistil, where he massages it.
Nai’s fingers feel good, but this is not the way Vash wants to come. He captures his hand and complains, “I want to come with you inside. Stop playing.”
“You should watch your tone when you’re the one responsible for almost letting us wilt—”
“It wasn’t me who—”
“—be grateful I’m generous, brother.”
Vash’s following protest dies when Nai drives past the taut rim of his pussy in a single thrust. The suddenness tears a broken moan from his throat and pushes him to reach an orgasm he’s not ready for. Too fast and too intense; pain and pleasure merge, leaving him shaking, holding onto Nai’s broad shoulders, curling his legs around his middle. Breathing deep and fast as his petals pulse around his brother’s girth.
“Nai, you… You did it on purpose,” Vash whines, his body trembling uncontrollably.
“This is what you wanted, didn’t you, Vash? This is what you need,” Nai whispers into his ear, knowing well that he’s yet to truly satisfy his brother in the way he aches for. He might have allowed Vash relief, but his childish pettiness attests to an anger that has yet to subdue. Because…
… It’s been four hundred and sixty-nine days.
“You’re tight,” Nai points out with satisfaction. Vash pouts when he hears the subtle relief dragged at the end.
“Of course! I always wait for you.”
Nai’s smile is smug when he pulls out. “Good,” he says before he pushes back inside with force.
More broken gasps fall from Vash’s mouth. His insides are burning from how tight his walls have been stretched. It’s uncomfortable; pleasure has yet to overcome pain. He draws red crescents on his brother’s back as he tries to accommodate him. Nai has always been big, but not like this, never like this.
It’s too much.
“You’re full—fuller than usual.” Vash acknowledges out of breath and sweating profusely. “Nai, didn’t you relieve yourself?”
“I always wait for you,” Nai answers, echoing Vash’s words. “Besides, why would I waste my seed…”
The ellipsis is long and empty, sounding like an undisclosed secret. Nai doesn’t need to elaborate more when his hand caressing Vash’s belly makes up for the unsaid words.
Vash understands him.
This rendezvous is vital, heavier than their beliefs, and stronger than their volition. Habit gave birth to it, their biology made it a necessity, but love made it perdure. They need each other even though gunpowder and steel replace each other’s scent more often than the reverse. The pull they feel, the void that no one else can fill, it is a chain, a curse.
Vash hasn’t forgotten that this ritual is a green olive that wilts in a matter of a night. But, for now, he decides to take it as it is.
A blessing.
“Nai…” Vash cradles Nai’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Nai reciprocates, allowing Vash to set the pace before taking over.
Vash’s moans are devoured by Nai’s starving mouth. His hand is bruising on Vash’s hip, keeping him in place as he thrusts into him. Unneeded, Vash thinks; he isn’t going anywhere, not for the night and possibly not for the following ones. They need to make up for the days lost and soak into each other’s presence for it to last enough.
Nai must think the same. He’s never been careful when marking Vash. He doesn’t need to, and Vash doesn’t want him to. He’s Nai’s for him to do as he pleases. For this night, they both give themselves to each other wholly. Nai is vicious, unusually so, when marking his skin. Sharp canines sink deep, deeper enough to break skin and draw blood. So profound, Vash is suddenly assaulted with the vision of a lion tearing up his throat.
It shouldn’t be as hot as it feels.
His walls constrict around Nai. His brother’s engorged cock, pulsing red and glistening with Vash’s nectar, slides into his heat easier now that Vash is losing himself to pleasure. Nai drives himself at a steady rhythm. The light resistance of Vash’s rim gives the perfect pressure for Vash to feel pain. It adds the right amount needed to the mix of sensations.
Nai disappearing into his pussy is a sight he can’t get enough of. He can’t believe three months made such a difference in his girth; the friction against his petals has never felt as good. The base of Vash’s pistil heats up as Nai grazes it fully, building the beginning of a promising climax.
He feels so full and tight, so unbelievably good it is like discovering sex all over again. Vash isn’t sure if it is longing, a more primal need, or both pushing him closer to the edge. He’s hot, his insides melting and pooling on the fallboard. The sounds of their bodies clashing rhythmically and the wetness between them grow louder and create a perfect symphony of eroticism.
“You’re taking me so well, Vash,” Nai admires. Vash’s chest swells with pride. “I’m so full and you still take me so well.”
Vash hears the silent ‘We are meant for each other’ followed by ‘You’re perfect for me’ that comes when Nai claims his mouth.
“Nai, you’re hitting me so deep,” Vash whimpers. His eyes move to his belly, where he rests his hand, wondering if the small bump he sees is his lust-inebriated imagination playing games.
It’s not.
It’s subtle, but he can feel some movement under his palm.
“Nai… Nai! I can feel you under my hand!”
In response, Nai growls against his neck. He’s always had an infuriating sense of control, but he looks close to losing it right then. It’s so unlike him and yet so welcome despite the abuse on Vash’s body. Sharp nails sink into Vash’s hip, and the hand on the small of his back pulls him impossibly closer to his brother’s bigger frame. He pounds into his pussy with abandon. Vash will be sore and tender the following day. He counts on it; he hopes their encounter is painted and sculpted in his body for as long as possible.
It starts like a warm tingle in his toes, growing more intense and spreading throughout his body like wildfire. Vash does his part in extinguishing it and rocks his hips, trying to meet and match Nai’s brutal pace. It’s an awkward attempt that, surprisingly, works despite the lack of coordination.
“You’re close, aren’t you, Vash? I can feel your petals trembling.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Vash babbles incoherently. “Please, Nai. I’m so close.”
Nai has always taken pride in making him come untouched. This time, he’s too lost in his pleasure that he doesn’t slap Vash’s hand away when he reaches for his pistil. Desperate for a climax he’s deprived himself of for over a year, Vash works on himself, pumping the delicate organ between his thumb and index.
He’s close, so much, much closer now…
There is no space between their bodies anymore. Flushed against each other, Vash can feel his brother’s heartbeat touching his chest, falling in complete synchrony with his own.
Screaming for the very same thing Vash is.
His orgasm has been crafted with devotion and deliberation, and yet, it still comes as a surprise when it crashes on him. Out of breath and with lava running through his veins, Vash is taken to a higher peak of ecstasy. It consumes him wholly, forcing Nai’s name from the depths of his ribcage and releasing his nectar all over his and Nai’s abdomen.
The hand on Vash’s hip keeps him steady. The hand grabbing the top of the piano keeps Nai grounded. He keeps sinking into Vash’s heat, unmerciful, his rhythm unchanged. Vash knows he’s coming when his cock throbs violently inside him.
Nai’s grip on his hip is bruising, but the one on the piano is downright destructive. Vash can only read his name on his brother’s lips when he comes. The thundering noise of wood shattering next to his head drowns out everything else.
Nai sways his hips slowly and carefully, making sure that all of him is emptied into Vash. Not a single drop wasted.
At last, Vash is complete.
He can feel his insides swelling with Nai’s seed. Filled to the brim, everything overflows from his pussy and spills on the piano in a messy puddle of fluids. One, two, three droplets of their mixed essence fall into the floor, slow and steady like rain; it echoes loudly in a room where time has slowed down.
Nai’s hot breathing falls into his shoulder. Until that moment, Vash realizes that Nai is hunched over him. He protected him from any splinter that may have been propelled.
“Are you okay, Nai?” Vash takes Nai’s face in his hand and inspects him.
Nai sighs and drops a kiss on his palm. “I’m good. You, on the other hand, are a mess.”
The smile on Nai’s lips is smug. The edges aren’t as sharp; it’s a rare sight and one that Vash treasures because Nai doesn’t show genuine tenderness. He doesn’t wear it, doesn’t speak it, doesn’t understand it. And yet, it is in the afterglow that he uses it without realizing what it is.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Four hundred and sixty-nine days,” Nai reminds him, losing his smile.
Ah. Nai was counting too.
Vash acknowledges it is somewhat his fault. Yes, he avoided Nai; he did everything he could to disappear from his radar. But it was Nai who instigated it first. If Nai weren’t so set on walking down a path of death and destruction. If only he weren’t so—
“No.”
—Nai kisses him.
“You’re thinking,” he whispers against his lips. “Don’t think.”
Vash’s thoughts are an endless waterfall, and Nai knows it. He is aware that letting it flow can wash away the afterglow and drown out any other that can come up later. This place, this moment, is modest and fragile; it can fit them both and their love but nothing else. Not thoughts, not revenge, and definitely not outsiders.
“Nai, you—”
“Don’t ruin it.” Nai doesn’t beg, but he might as well have right then.
Vash drops his shoulders, tired and defeated.
Nai will go back out there and humans will keep dying under his hand. Vash hurts because he knows he can do better to prevent it, but his body and soul al wholly given to Nai. It is in his nature, in his blood and soul.
He apologizes to the world outside, but right now, there is nothing else to do but fall into Nai’s arms because, despite everything, this is his true home.