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Wolfwood finally had Vash under him again, a little less soft, a little more scarred than before, but he was with him again. (Where he should be. He had searched for so long.)
Worshipping Vash’s body was nothing new to Wolfwood, but this time every kiss carried an apology, a sorry I wasn’t there, let me prove that I’m here now. He couldn’t ask for forgiveness that was already given, but Wolfwood would always be willing to pay penance—to give Vash what he deserved when the world never did.
It was almost concerning how easily Vash fell apart under his mouth and hands. Usually the spikey-head would be grasping his hair, pulling him in for desperate kisses, Wolfwood’s name and begging falling from red-bitten lips in equal measure. But this Vash was not entirely present, eyes going distant and hazy, and unfortunately not from pleasure.
“Hey, sweetheart, eyes on me. Stay with me, angel.”
Wolfwood was taking it slow, running rough hands over Vash’s clavicle, shoulders, waist, rubbing comforting circles into his hips.
Teary blue eyes finally found his.
“Nick…”
“There you are, gorgeous. We don’t have to keep going. I can hold you just like this until morning.”
Vash let out a short gasp. “No, please! Don’t stop! Please, I just want you—I want to… forget. Please, Nico.” The last part ended in a whisper, like he was ashamed to even ask. “I’m sorry…”
Wolfwood butted his forehead against Vash’s, saying, “You know I hate it when you apologize.” He kissed away his tears, hands that were made to hold weapons cupping his face with gentle care.
How terrible was this thing inside his chest that made him act so unlike his usual, hardened self. Wolfwood was sure it was guilt, but it weighed so much heavier than the cross on his back. The only other thing he could admit to himself was that anything this man asked of him, he would give it unquestioningly to the best of his ability.
“Make you forget? I can do that. Just keep your eyes open because I want you to remember this.” Remember me.
Vash nodded and Wolfwood got moving. Pressing his lips under his jaw, down the side of his neck. Down to the center of his chest, taking care to place a kiss on his sternum, Wolfwood’s right hand laid over the exposed crater where his heart would be. Down over his patchwork torso as he moved both hands to hold Vash’s ribs, feeling his quickening breaths—in, out, in, out. Down to where Vash wanted to be touched the most, stroking Vash to life, making himself at home between his thighs.
Still touching his lover, Wolfwood trailed his lips over to the juncture where thigh met hip and sunk his teeth in with intention to keep Vash grounded in the here and now but also to leave a mark for later. An effective tactic based on the sounds coming from the blond’s parted lips. He gave a few more nips and bites for his own self-satisfaction as well.
Vash was growing wetter. Wolfwood exhaled a hot breath of air before going in to taste. It was the most addicting flavor, perhaps even more so than his cigarettes. Wolfwood alternated between the citrusy sweet tang of Vash’s slick and the salt of his skin, tasting, savoring everything Vash had offered him. He checked again to make sure that he was still with him.
Vash hadn’t taken his eyes off Wolfwood. He was flushed, panting, but didn’t look away. At the eye contact and Wolfwood’s slowed touches, he abortedly moved his hips closer to his face, trying to stop himself. (He didn’t think he deserved it, deserved to have Wolfwood like this.)
Wolfwood placed Vash’s hand in his hair, giving him something to hold onto when Wolfwood started scissoring him.
“Ngh! Niiick!”
Wolfwood had to close his eyes, tongue still working diligently, stubble rubbing sensitive places as he grinned at his name being ripped from the blond’s throat. Vash was so beautiful he could barely stand it.
It wasn’t much longer until the hand in his hair was pulling more frantically. Wolfwood went with it, bringing his face back up to Vash’s.
Vash pulled his face in for a kiss, tasting himself on his lips and as he licked into Wolfwood’s mouth. When Wolfwood finally pulled back, Vash’s eyes were that clear blue that he loved so much.
There’s my tongari.
“More, Nico. I’m ready.”
“Okay. Okay, I got you, angel, I’m here.”
Wolfwood lined himself up and pushed in. He sighed in relief, the feeling of being welcomed into Vash’s tight heat never not awe-inspiring. He let his hands pin Vash’s to the bed on either side of his head, moving shallowly until he was fully seated. Vash gasped as he adjusted to the intrusion.
Once Vash started grinding down on Wolfwood’s length, he picked up the pace a bit. It was still slow, a much more painstaking pace than their previous, rushed trysts on the run. But Wolfwod wanted to take his time, soak up the sight of Vash falling apart under him, make this beautiful man feel good because it was the only right thing to do.
Vash was getting close, punched out breaths picking up and moans getting louder. Since his hands were trapped under Wolfwood’s, he craned his neck up to kiss him deeply, appreciatively, saying with his whole body, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.
Their desperate mouths eventually had to part, but they kept their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in roughly.
Wolfwood was on the brink of tipping off the edge with him, so close to the peak, and then—
Suddenly he wasn’t there anymore.
Wolfwood found himself in some bizarre space, a void of liquid nothingness with nothing to be seen on the horizon except for… an orb?
Wasn’t he just with Vash? Was he knocked out after mind-blowing sex? Was he… dead? If so, this didn’t seem like such a bad place compared to what he was expecting.
As he took in his strange surroundings, Wolfwood noted that he could feel Vash’s presence everywhere. It felt warm. Safe.
He was floating, suspended on a plane that he couldn’t really comprehend, nor did he try to. That knowledge was far above his pay grade. Since it felt like Vash, he figured this was one of his weird, plant things.
The orb seemed to react to that thought. It swirled and pulsed, sending feelings of encouragement for him to move closer.
When it was within arm’s reach, it grew calm, waiting for Wolfwood to do… something. All Wolfwood got was a general feeling of questioning along with that constant, comforting pulse of I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.
Out loud, he murmured, “Are you…? You are… Tongari, aren’t you?”
God, he wanted a smoke. Not for the nicotine but for something to focus on while he was slowly being overwhelmed by this feeling of Vash everywhere, surrounding him with so much love that it couldn’t even be contained.
And that was it, he was coming to realize. Vash, at his core, was pure love, not only for him but for the world and everyone and everything in it.
I’m here, I’m with you, I’m here.
It was so much. And yet Wolfwood could see that it was the center of everything. Disregarding or perhaps coinciding with every religion that he had been taught before, it felt right to say that love was the true center of the universe. Vash was at the beginning, middle, and end of it all.
Wolfwood was running through all the moments he had spent together with Vash. He could see his memories playing out like projections around him and the orb. Vash had given him more than he deserved, and Wolfwood only realized the true extent of it when he lost him.
The orb was silently asking for something, and Wolfwood decided he could only give back a poor reflection of the love it— Vash —gave out all the time.
Wolfwood held back the frustration, the anger, the despair, the admiration he felt for Vash. Instead he showed the orb that brave, sacrificial, human idiot that he wanted to call his partner. Every hit and gunshot Vash would take without resistance, every effort to save men, women, and children who didn’t appreciate it, every party at every bar, every grave he had to leave behind, everything Vash did because he loved everyone.
He thought of his equal that was so much more than equal, his north arrow, the owner of his heart and body, whether Vash knew that or not. He reached out and touched the orb to offer up his confession and vows all in one, memories of Vash still playing rapidly at the edges of his vision.
The orb swirled and rippled on contact. Then it burst outward in a flood of light, and all Wolfwood saw was that signature red.
Though Vash had been so happy to have Wolfwood back, he had been starting to feel hesitant when it came to actually letting him in. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone since, well, Nai, but that intimacy hadn’t been of Vash’s own volition. Having someone reach into you into places you’d never let anyone before, only to have them rip out and take away what made you you until all that was left was a creaking husk…
And that wasn’t even the worst experience in Vash’s long life. It was losing everyone—Every. Single. Person—whom he held dear to him, as if they had never existed. He was left alone. As always.
Who was he when there was no one around to acknowledge and reflect his existence back at him?
It took Vash so long to recover himself, to realize that the core of his being was not in fact eradicated. But he still had spotty memories and felt like he was missing parts of himself, like the smaller yet no less important details of his personality had yet to be rediscovered.
He still struggled with the guilt and the grief some days (most days), but Wolfwood helped. Having someone to watch his back when he thought he deserved knives or bullets in it helped. Hearing his brusque reassurance that it wasn’t a crime to want to do good or to just exist helped.
But when he eventually wanted to reinitiate things with Wolfwood, he couldn’t forget what had happened to him, and he was scared of how he would feel. He could no longer be the exact same person Wolfwood had loved before, and that was terrifying in its own way.
Would Wolfwood still want him as he was now?
The current situation would point to Yes , and Vash wanted to accept that. His memories were blurry, but his body remembered with sharp clarity. It remembered Wolfwood’s touch, and he had always trusted Wolfwood. He was safe in Wolfwood’s hands. The preacher always knew how to take care of him, even when Vash wouldn’t take care of himself. So he let him in, let him back into his life and into his body.
And when Vash let go, he could feel that rift open again. This time, it didn’t manifest physically, but instead, in his mind’s eye, it engulfed the two of them. Vash was now floating in space, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. But he felt good, comfortable, his consciousness kind of gooey, unable to form fully coherent thoughts.
Distantly, he could still feel Wolfwood’s warm body pressed against him. The best he could do was project his feeling of contentment at Wolfwood. He had no idea what his face looked like, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to ask if Wolfwood felt good too, if he was happy with him, but the words wouldn’t form.
And Wolfwood… Wolfwood was staring him in the eyes but also staring through him, like he was seeing Vash in his entirety for the first time. Vash saw through heavy-lidded eyes that he looked almost awestruck.
And as Wolfwood’s hips picked up the pace, Vash felt it. Split between reality and that other plane, he felt what Wolfwood was trying to say as he pushed in deep every time.
Selfless. Stupid. Beautiful. Perfect.
Love you. Love you, love you, love you.
The pieces Vash felt missing inside himself were being filled up. Wolfwood was showing him how he saw Vash, and Vash believed it to be true because Wolfwood had always been able to see the real him.
And with that, he was coming.
Vash was riding the high of his orgasm when vines shot out of his back like wings.
He had no control of it, but unlike with Nai, he wasn’t afraid. This time, he could lose himself in waves of pleasure as green stems crept along the bed and onto the floor. They were healthy, alive, unlike the black, necrotic roots that he had produced in July. They spread throughout the room and up the walls, eventually forming a cocoon around the two of them.
And when they bloomed, Vash let out a gasp.
They were red geraniums. A whole room full of them.
Wolfwood was also coming back to himself. He was surrounded by a sea of red, but his eyes were only on the blond before him.
“Vash…” he whispered hoarsely.
“Nico, look.”
Vash loosened Nick’s hold on one of his hands to brush over the open blossoms before bringing it to Wolfwood’s cheek. Not sky petunias, not black dahlias, but the red geraniums that Rem—that Vash loved so dearly were blooming. A manifestation of Vash’s very self because Wolfwood had tried to give back the same love that Vash gave out.
“They’re beautiful,” Wolfwood said, still without taking his eyes off Vash.
What finally got him to look away were the vines wrapping around his legs and back. They tightened their hold on him, pushing him further into Vash where they were still joined.
They both let out gasps, Wolfwood’s devolving into a grunt while Vash giggled.
“I’m not really controlling them. It just… happened,” Vash admitted sheepishly.
“Oh, so it’s a subconscious thing?” Wolfwood’s smile took on a sharper edge as he took in the new information. “So what happens if I do this?”
He pulled out a bit and snapped back in quickly. Vash let out a moan, and the vines tightened around Wolfwood again.
“You’re glowing, babe.”
Indeed, Vash’s plant markings were visible and pulsing soft white-blue. Usually Vash was self-conscious about the lines across his face and body, but with Wolfwood looking at him like that, he could find no reason to be ashamed.
“Eyes on me then, Nicholas,” Vash repeated Wolfwood’s line from before back at him teasingly.
“I couldn’t look away if I wanted to,” he replied in a low voice. It was hypnotizing, and the vision underneath him was easily the most alluring thing Wolfwood had ever or would ever see.
Vash looked up at him with his sad, sloping eyes and sweet smile. “Can I ask you something?” he whispered.
Wolfwood stilled above him, committing his expression to memory. “Anything.” Everything, you know I would give it to you.
“Stay with me? Please?” Vash felt Wolfwood’s heart rate increase and his cock jump inside him, making him giggle at the reaction.
(God, how Wolfwood had missed his laugh.)
Wolfwood groaned, closing his eyes and lowering his head to Vash’s shoulder for a moment. He was strong, but he was still just a man. Who was he to deny an angel?
“I’m all yours, Needle Noggin. Today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that. You’ve got me.”
Vash hummed happily. “Until tomorrow then. I want to spend as many tomorrows as I can with you, Nico.”
Wolfwood didn’t need to say any more. He leaned in to give Vash a rough kiss and got to work as crimson petals fell around them like feathers.