Work Text:
He was not one for prayer, but oh how he wanted to fall to his knees between Vash’s legs and worship until he was begging a God that not even Nick believed in for salvation.
It was a growing hunger that had started deep in his mind, a need that was slowly consuming him and made his blood sing at the slightest glance, the barest touch. It made him reckless, it made him tip-toe, it made his mind quiet at the same time it made every fiber of his being scream out in agony. He was both consumed by Vash and wanted to consume him, to take and keep some part of him close to his heart; he’d flash Nick a grin and he would burn with the need to crack open Vash’s ribcage, to crawl inside through the viscera and to wrap around his heart to settle there forever.
Loving someone was a dangerous and bloody business. It was going to get him killed.
Nick pushed it down, down, down, and tried (failed) to keep his distance (stay as close to Vash as possible, keep him safe, keep him whole, keep him, keep him keep him-)
It was inevitable, then, that they would end up like this, in a clash of teeth and tongue that pushed and pulled like a fight. The real shock, honestly, was that it did not happen sooner…and that it was Vash that started it.
As with many things in their lives, it started with a shootout. Always a damn shootout, with Nick yelling, Vash pleading, and their blood pounding in their ears, hearts in their throats. And as with many things in their lives, it ended in harsh breaths and hands smeared with blood.
They’d made it back to their room, panting, gasping for air; Vash’s arm was thrown over Nick’s shoulders and each breath tickled his neck and was making it hard to concentrate. God how he wished he could feel Vash breath against his ear in other circumstances. A fission of lust flashed through him, down his spine in a way that made him stumble and catch himself before he brought both he and Vash to the floor.
Of course the other man noticed. “Wolfwood-”
“Shut up and sit down, idiot.” He dumped Vash onto the bed with a groan, rummaging for their shared and well-used first aid kit, grumbling the whole while; low curses and absolutions, knowing that Vash would be fine but also hoping that this wouldn’t be the one to scar, the one that cut too deep for whatever Vash’s biology was capable of healing. “Take your damn shirt off.”
“It’ll be okay,” the soft voice says, barely audible over the rustle of fabric as his shirt and coat come off, and it makes Nick want to scream, to tear his hair out, to pierce his palms and hang from his own cross because whenever Vash speaks like that, it makes him feel needed. Feel wanted and safe, like he isn’t riddled through with sin like a cancer, eating away at him on a cellular level. He is impure and guilty, he’s ruined down to the atoms that make him but Vash-
“Wolfwood,” his voice is a benefaction, and he closes his eyes to receive it, to let it sink into his mind as a hand soothes over his shoulder. “Wolfwood.”
Vash’s voice is insistent, and so he turns to face the fallen angel who has crashed into his life. A hand reaches up, Vash’s thumb brushing something off his cheek as his face is cradled. Nick leans into it. He’s so close, so goddamn close, and in an instant he knows that he has flown too close to the suns. He has strained against it, never facing the light and denying himself over and over but it is too late.
Vash is going to absolve him, and Vash is going to send him spiraling down to earth in a free fall that will kill him.
His thumb makes another sweep, fingers tilting Nick’s jaw up so that their lips are nearly touching. Vash’s eyes are so, so blue and he breathes-
“Nick.”
And Nick will fall willingly.
Vash presses their lips together and this is as close to God as Nick has ever felt, overwhelmed and aching for more all at once. It’s heaven and it’s hell. It’s agony and the balm he needs to heal his soul. The hand sneaks into his hair, tightening slightly, and Nick snaps.
He grabs Vash’s lapels, hauling him closer, and Vash gasps into his mouth. Nick tastes blood, and runs his tongue over his split lip before kissing him harder, fiercer, more more more. Vash’s canines are sharp. He loves it.
“Nick.”
He’s never heard his name said like a prayer before, so when Vash tugs him up by his hair, gentle but insistent, he rises to his knees. The metal hand is cool against his neck as he struggles to focus, to get his mind to catch up to his body. “Vash.”
He sounds absolutely wrecked from a single kiss and he wants nothing more than to be taken apart and put back together again by the angel before him. Nick noses against Vash’s knee, leaning even more into the hand in his hair. “Please, angel.”
Vash is breathing heavily, pupils blown wide. “Please what, Nicholas?” The hand in his hair tightens almost imperceptibly but not in a way that indicates he’s in control; there’s a genuine question behind it, as if he truly is not sure what Nick is asking for, begging for.
“I need you,” he croaks, begging to this god on his knees, pleading to be absolved of his grief, his sins. All he needs is a taste. “I need to taste you, I need to feel you. Please.”
He looks into the blue eyes above him, lips parted in a final, breathless plea as Vash says “yes” on his own exhale.
Nick wastes no time, gripping Vash’s hips and hauling him to the edge of his bed before setting his hands to the multitude of buckles. He curses and begs, Vash’s hands both soothing and helping him to unto them all before Nick finally gives up and decides enough are loose or open that he yanks the pants down, looking up at Vash once more, calmed enough to begin removing the boots as well. His heart is pounding, but he can see Vash’s chest heaving too, knows that he’s wanted, needed, just as much.
He decides to put on a show, drawing one boot off and then the other, sliding his broad palms up Vash’s legs as he hooks his fingers into the partially removed pants and briefs; they’re just yanked down enough that they’re over the curve of that perfect ass and Nick groans as more of Vash’s legs are revealed. They’re streaked with scars, some silvery and some gnarled rips of flesh, and Nick kisses any that are in his reach as he goes down before they’re off completely and he inhales sharply; he palms Vash’s knees, gently spreading them as he worships each exposed inch of skin. He works his way up, up toward the apex of Vash’s thighs.
A hand returns to his hair and his face is directed upward, and Nick drags his eyes up from Vash’s parted legs; the question in Vash’s eyes is answered with a challenge in Nick’s own.
“Is this…okay?”
Nick knows what he’s not asking.
“You’re beautiful,” a kiss to the soft inside of Vash’s left thigh that he follows up with a hint of teeth. “You’re enough, always enough,” he chases the sting of his teeth with the flat heat of his tongue. “I want you however you’ll have me, however you want.”
Vash’s breath hitches and the hand in his hair falls away, permission granted. It’s too passive for Nick, and he places one last kiss to Vash’s thigh before he reluctantly pulls back enough to calm his own mind. “Do you want this?”
Do you want me? Will I sully you, will you fall with me or am I the only one cursed? He needs to hear it from Vash’s mouth.
“Yes.”
That’s all Nick needs to hear, rewarding the response with a kiss to the inside of Vash’s knee, just over a scar; his hands skim up strong thighs to grip slim hips, digging his thumbs into the soft flesh he finds in the dip of a pelvic bone. He pulls Vash a little closer to the edge of the bed, groaning as he dives in.
He laps at Vash’s folds, the sweet dampness gathered there pooling on his tongue like ambrosia as he explores with his tongue, guided by the hands that have threaded into his hair. Each gasp, each whisper, every twitch of hips and hitch of breath- Nick commits it to memory. Slowly, slowly, the folds unfold around his tongue and lips, the taste getting sweeter. His face is sticky and Vash gasps above him, the metal of his hand catching strands of his hair as he jerks; Nick grunts at the pain, encouraged, and presses closer, nosing between the unfurling petals to tongue at Vash’s now-exposed entrance. Vash whines, and Nick grins.
He plunges his tongue inside, setting a steady rhythm; Vash is gasping his name, grinding his hips against Nick’s face and he give in, letting Vash fuck himself on his tongue, chasing his pleasure higher and higher. His eyes are closed in bliss, and Nick could lose himself to this, completely give himself over to this angel. A whine of his name has Nick opening his eyes, looking up through his lashes at Vash just as he looks down.
Vash meets his eyes and chokes on a gasp before his whole body strains. A burst of sweetness explodes over his tongue and he drinks it in, eyelids fluttering as he watches Vash come apart at the seams; the man’s eyes roll back and his body bows, hands clenched into Nick’s hair as he rides out his orgasm on Nick’s tongue. Even after the grip loosens, Nick doesn’t pull away, watching Vash closely as he keeps up the slow, deep pace he’d set; he slips a hand off Vash’s hips, smoothing it over his thigh before he brings a finger to Vash’s entrance.
“Please, Nick.”
It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, a prayer gracing his ears. Slowly, so carefully, he works his finger in. Vash is tight around him and he groans again, moving his tongue to the bumps that he’d felt within the last set of petals as his finger sinks a little deeper. He sucks at one, closing his lips over it, and Vash jerks- his finger sinks to the last knuckle and Vash gasps, curling in on himself. Nick looks up in concern, not stopping or slowing; if Vash wanted to stop him, he very easily could. Vash shakes his head, gasping, as he grinds down on Nick’s finger. It’s all the answer he needs to continue, working his finger in and out while he watches Vash’s face carefully.
He knows Vash could kill him, if he wanted. He was strong, but Vash was stronger. The idiot had as much capacity to destroy as his brother, disguised in the desire for love and peace- his love was a force of destruction, and Nick’s heart thrilled at the thought that Vash could end him now and he’d die a whole man. He was made to worship at the altar between Vash’s thighs, his tongue moving in wordless prayer, a supplicant to whatever force of nature that was Vash the Stampede.
“Nick, I-” Vash gasped as Nick curled his finger. “More, I want more.”
Nick obliged, nudging a second finger against Vash’s entrance. It was just as difficult to work this one in, Vash’s hole fluttering around him as he circled another of the buds, timing his inward thrusts with the clench and release of Vash’s body. It took a few minutes of gentle insistence, of Nick working his tongue and fingers in tandem, but finally he had two fingers fully seated.
Above him, Vash’s eyes were filled with tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks as he pulled Nick’s head away, instead grinding into his palm, working his fingers that millimeter deeper. He rose more fully to his knees, thighs screaming, so that he could press his palm into Vash’s petals, hand growing stickier in the same way his face had. Vash was close again, brought to ruin on his fingers.
He dug his thumb into Vash’s hip bone almost cruelly. “You gonna cum again, angel?”
Vash whined, head thrown back; the tears in his eyes spilled over, rolling over the swell of his flushed cheeks. As Vash ground down, Nick thrust his palm forward, forcing a loud sob from his throat.
“I wanna see you, angel. Wanna see you fall apart on my fingers.”
With his fingers still buried as deep as they could go, Nick rose up, one knee on the bed next to Vash as he slid his free hand into sweaty blonde hair; he gripped tightly, forcing Vash’s body to bow over his leg, and he was rewarded with another sob as he ground his palm hard against Vash.
“Cum for me, Vash.”
It was magnificent.
Vash screamed, body arching between Nick’s hands as he both tried to chase Nick’s palm but also move away from the stimulation; his fingers felt like they were being crushed in the sweetest vice and, for the first time since he’d been kissed, Nick wondered what it would feel like to have Vash cum on his cock- and he realized he was painfully hard. He had been too distracted, too focused on Vash to think about or chase his own pleasure.
As Vash came down, sobs racking his body, Nick carefully withdrew his fingers, tracing them over Vash’s hip so he was smeared with his own release as he untangled his fingers from long, blonde hair. He whispered encouragement and praise into Vash’s ear. “Look at you, so beautiful for me. So perfect. God, you’re a vision like this.”
He’s cradling Vash to him, pulled into his lap, and he’s reminded of the religious art he’d been shown over and over- images of the pious Mary holding the body of Christ. His heart hammered in his chest as he pushed the thoughts away because Vash was here, breathing deeply, whole alive in his arms.
“You’re so beautiful, Vash.”
He’d finally regained enough breath to laugh, and Nick’s heart swelled. “Wow.”
“‘Wow’ indeed, angel.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Vash’s forehead, suddenly a bit shy about kissing him the way he wanted; his own arousal still roiled beneath his skin, but Vash was relaxed and pliant in his arms, satiated. He didn’t want to assume, now that the heat was reduced from a wildfire to a simmer, that it was wanted.
“I can hear you thinking,” Vash sat up slightly, slinging an arm around Nick’s shoulders and bringing him down for a proper kiss. He was more careful with his sharp canines this time, and the kiss was gentle, warm and beautifully lazy. It reminded Nick of an early summer day, and he brushed the remnants of tears from Vash’s beautiful face.
“Didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything.”
Vash laughed again, fully sitting up and straddling Nick’s hips. His pale skin was a patchwork of scars and Nick had never seen anything more beautiful; he let his hands roam over every exposed inch, barely touching the scars he knew caused Vash pain, ghosting over areas that were bruised. The graze over Vash’s ribs, the original reason he’d been on his knees, was healed already. The only reminder was a smear of red blood over his side, beautifully in contrast with the soft, creamy skin. His lips follow, along with teeth and tongue, but Vash squirms so he stops; once he leans back, the other man is suddenly bashful.
“Nick?” Vash’s hands hesitated at the buttons on his shirt. “I want you, if you’ll have me.”
He seemed shy, gaze cast to the side and a blush on his cheeks; his chest was still flushed, but the redness in his cheeks blazed stronger. “Of course I want you,” Nick replied, hands settling on Vash’s hips. “I’ve wanted you for ages.”
The smile he was graced with was radiant, and Nick knew then he’d follow Vash to the end of the world. The man above him was love in its purest form; the promise of green things and the smell of earth after it rained, the sweetness of fruit as it burst on the tongue, still warm from the sun. He was Vash, and that’s all Nick would ever need.
Vash dipped his head to kiss him, fingers nimbly making quick work of Nick’s remaining buttons before moving on to his belt and the zip of his pants. “Still okay?” He kissed Nick’s cheek, pressing forward to slide the shirt and blazer off his shoulders, trailing hot fingers down his arms as Nick released the hold he’d had on Vash.
“Yeah, yeah, still good. Here,” he moved them further up the bed so they were no longer precariously on the edge, settling Vash back over his hips. “Now I don’t have to worry about you falling.”
“Lie back for me?”
All he can do is comply, when he’s asked so sweetly; Vash’s hands are contrasts against his chest, hot and cold, as he is pressed into the pillows, back against the headboard, watching as Vash squirms down, teasingly dragging Nick’s pants and briefs with him. He sighs when his cock finally springs free, lips quirking at Vash’s soft gasp. His belt clinks as it joins their other clothes somewhere on the floor of the motel, and he’s watching Vash look at him, blue eyes soft and awed as he makes his way back up Nick’s body, trailing his fingers over ticklish areas and placing kisses where he pleases.
“Vash,” he sighs, dropping his head back against the wall as the other man returns to his earlier position, straddling Nick’s lap. His cock twitches between them, drooling against his stomach as he imagines the hot grip of Vash on his fingers again; he imagines fucking into him so sweetly, so gently, reducing him to a quivering mess, but Vash’s languidity from earlier is gone. He’s not tense, but there’s hesitance that Nick doesn’t like.
At this point, he’s not sure what he wants, but he knows it involves the blond man above him, haloed in the light of the setting suns. He’s golden, bathed in it, an idol that Nick wants to worship until his last breath.
He leans in for a kiss, lazy but heated, his flesh hand finally circling Nick’s cock and moving with a whisper-light touch as he mouths kisses down the man’s neck.
“I want to ride you.”
Nick’s mind blanks for a moment as Vash twists his wrist at the head of his cock, gasping, and his eyes fly open to find Vash’s. He wants it more than he wants air, but he also remembers just how hard it had been to work Vash open for his fingers. “I don’t wanna hurt you-”
Vash shakes his head. “You won’t.” He twists his wrist again. “You won’t, Nick.”
His protests catch in his throat, because how can he deny an angel? Vash waits for him to answer. “Okay, if that’s what you want, but-”
He’s silenced with a kiss and he shifts back, but Nick shakes his head, moving to grip Vash’s wrist and lacing their fingers together; he needs Vash to stop touching him for a moment, needs to focus. He pulls back a fraction- it’s not a refusal, or a denial, but it is a clear pause.
“I don’t want pleasure at your expense because you think it’s what you need to do, I don’t want you like this if it means you’re in pain.” He kisses away the tears forming in Vash’s eyes. “I need you to promise you’ll stop if it’s hurting you.”
He brings their foreheads together, his free hand carding through Vash’s soft hair as he waits for the tears to stop, for Vash to realize he means it, and that he cares. There are other things he can do, that they can do, that don’t involve Vash’s pain, and he’s about to insist when Vash nods.
“I promise.”
Nick untangles their hands and brings Vash in for a filthy kiss. “Good boy.”
Oh, that got a lovely response. Nick slides his hand down Vash’s stomach, kissing him again as he gently rubbed at the folds between Vash’s legs, encouraging them to unfurl and part for him again. He was right in thinking that Vash would have caused himself pain.
He feels like a contradiction, worshiping an angel when he himself was a lost cause, utterly doomed both by his own actions and the man above him. Vash throws his head back, gasping out Nick’s name, arching beautifully into his touch and Nick decides that he can face his sins later- he’ll account for them all, each one balanced on the scale of his life until the negatives sink him into Hell if only he could have precious seconds more with Vash, could hear his name fall from those lips one more time.
Nick knows he’ll pay a high price for his duplicity, but as Vash sinks down on his cock and presses their lips together the whole while, as he is consumed, he also knows that the price will be worth anything, worth his life.
His mind finally catches up to his body and Nick snaps back to the moment, no longer occupied by the consequences to his answered ‘what if’s. Vash slowly sinks the last inch until their hips are pressed flush together and he releases a shuddering breath against Nick’s neck, brushing their cheeks together; Nick can feel more than see the tears slicking his face, and gently turns Vash’s face toward him.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Vash had been using Nick’s shoulder for balance and he released his vice grip to wipe away the tears with the back of his hand. “It’s…it’s a lot. Different. Not bad.”
He gives an experimental rock of his hips and they both groan, but Vash’s words stick in his mind. “Vash, have you ever-”
The angel above him shyly averts his gaze, flush returning to his face as he shakes his head, and Nick adds another sin to the top of the pile slowly building on the scale of his life…but he feels no guilt for this. If anything, he’s filled with a sense of possessive pride as he strokes up Vash’s thighs, his hips, gripping tightly. Vash is his, no one else’s.
“Okay, okay angel.” He takes a deep breath, drawing his hips back a fraction before rocking back up as he pulls Vash down. He grits his teeth and Vash whines; he’s carefully watching the blonde’s face, but there’s no pain written there. “You tell me if it’s too much.”
“Yes,” Vash breathes, lifting his hips of his own accord before sinking back down, letting gravity do the work for him. “Nick.”
Vash grinds down on him, head thrown back as he find his pleasure, taking it as his leisure, and Nick is powerless to deny him; his fingers flex on Vash’s hips, resisting the urge to thrust up into him, to take and take until Vash has nothing left to give. He lets Vash ride him, pace languid as he learns what feels good, the places inside him that make his body sing hymns that no one can hear. He wants to close his eyes, to bask in it, but he can’t look away from the rise and fall of his angel, his angel.
It isn’t until Vash rocks harder, more demanding, that he moves- just a fraction, but when he presses up into Vash, the man gasps. His head falls to Nick’s shoulder. “Good?”
Vash nods, kissing at his neck with a hint of teeth, still languid but asking for more, wanting more. “Nick,” he moans. “I want- I want…”
Nick keeps their slow pace, waiting for Vash to voice his desires as he strokes down his back with gentle fingers before digging in his nails on the drag back up, careful to avoid scars or sensitive spots.
“Take me,” his head whips back when Nick digs his nails in, and he groans it out; it’s like Nick had forced the confession from him and Vash is panting. Now that he’s found his voice, he’s babbling, begging. “Please, Nick, I want you to take me. I want you to use me, fuck me, please. Make me yours, I want it, please.”
His control is weak, and Vash’s begging is making him weaker. “You want it like this, Vash?” He thrusts harder and is rewarded with another whine. “Want me to fuck you on my cock while you’re in my lap? Or do you want me to put you on your back? Fuck, you’s look so pretty on your hands and knees too.” Nick lets all his fantasies spill out, giving Vash options while also indulging his need to make the man blush and squirm; he keeps up his harder pace, giving Vash a taste of what he’s asking. “Want to fill you up while you beg for it.”
He thrashes when Nick’s hand finds his folds, stroking and teasing. “Wanna see you,” Vash manages to gasp out. “Like this, please.”
Nick rewards him with a kiss. “Anything you want, angel.” Both hands return to Vash’s hips, fingers tightening in a way that has Vash moaning in response. “I can’t wait to watch you fall apart for me again.”
Now that he has permission, he thrusts up hard, bringing Vash’s hips down at the same time, his heels digging in for additional leverage; Vash sobs with pleasure, hands scrambling to grip Nick’s shoulders to counter the sudden force. The metal of his tech hand will leave a bruise and Nick revels in it, hoping the mark lasts for days and is visible from the open collar of his shirt. He wants people to know what he does to Vash, wants people to know that he belongs to someone.
He thrusts harder and is rewarded when Vash arches his back, his whole body taught and on display for him, for Nick’s eyes alone. On each upward thrust, he grinds Vash down onto him to stimulate the small knobs around his entrance, reducing all babbled pleas and gasps to breathless, sobbed little ‘ah’s that he punches out of him with each thrust.
Vash is tightening around him and, despite the force of his thrusts, it’s getting harder to force his cock back into the hot clutch of Vash’s body so he focuses on grinding up into him, jaw clenching hard as he watches Vash’s whole body quiver; he’s trembling, vibrating like he’s desperately trying to contain something within him.
Nick carefully slides one of his hands around to the front of Vash’s hip, slipping his thumb between his petals. “I’ve got you, angel.” He finds a nub and presses. “Let go, Vash. I want to see you let go.”
Everything happens all at once. His vision whites out as Vash orgasms, and he doesn’t have the time or ability to pull out, to hold back before he follows over the edge with a shout, pulsing hard as he grinds deeper, rubbing circles between soaked folds, filling Vash as he promised. He wants to bask in it, wants to close his eyes and melt into the way Vash is milking him with each clench and flutter.
But he cannot tear his eyes away from the vision before him.
Vash is arched, hips angled so he’s pressed against Nick’s hand where it rests on his lower stomach and chest heaving. His head is thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream and-
There’s a brush of feathers against his legs, twitching in time with Vash’s orgasm as he comes down from it, tension slowly leaving his body. Nick is in awe and he slowly, slowly reaches up to stroke a hand down Vash’s wing. The man shudders and his hips jerk against Nick’s other hand; Vash whines and Nick knows what overstimulation sounds like, carefully withdrawing his hand to pet at Vash’s thigh while he waits for him to relax.
After what feels like eternity, Vash rolls his head forward, shoulder loosening as his blue, blue eyes blink open. Nick smiles softly. “There you are.”
He strokes his wind again, tracing the edge of the outermost primary. Vash shudders again, clenching down on Nick’s softening cock as they both moan. Very slowly, he slips out, holding Vash steady as he winces.
“Too much?”
Vash shakes his head. “No, no it’s fine.” Nick reaches to drag his fingers through the scapulars and his body jerks. “Nick-”
“Sorry, sorry.” There’s a soft laugh and Nick moves his hands back to skin, rubbing soothing circles into a hip bone. “How are you?”
Vash hums, rolling his shoulders and settling back on Nick’s thighs, his wing stretching out before he drapes it over the side of the bed. “Perfect.”
“Good,” Nick breaths. “Good, that’s good.” He squeezes Vash’s thighs affectionately, sitting up more to kiss him. It’s slow and deep, the burn of passion still present in them both. “Everything you could have hoped for?”
It was cliche, and they were both far too old and weathered by life for delicate, precious things, but Vash deserved this, deserved gentleness and kindness and affection. He kisses him again, trying to pour everything he is into it, everything he cannot say or will not say.
“Yes,” Vash whispered against his lips. The smile on his face is serene, lovely, and he seems…quiet. Calm, like the world has settled around him and there is no chaos or blood or violence. Like Vash occupies a world that is everything he desires, a world made of love and peace. He presses their foreheads together. “You are.”
Nick’s heart skips a beat, and it feels like Vash has reached inside his chest and squeezed. He doesn’t think about it too hard, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as he carefully pets through fading feathers. His breathing evens out, and Vash peppers his neck and shoulder with kisses, soft as the feathers between Nick’s fingers.
Loving Vash was bloody and dangerous. He’s been shot, sliced, stabbed, beaten, knocked out, thrown from windows. He’d given as good as he’s gotten, building his pile of sins.
But loving Vash, it seemed, was also soft smiles and butterfly kisses, gentle touches and the press of skin on skin.
Nick moves to fully embrace the man above him; consequences be damned.
Because Nick? He was damned too.