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“Priest…” Vash moans, his head cradled in the pit of his elbow. “Priest, prieeeeest…”
“Fucking what ?” Wolfwood snaps from beside him. His face is planted on top of the bar, multiple glasses of beer and liquor sprawled out across the expanse of the countertop.
The bartender has stepped outside for now, and everyone else is too drunk to mind them. He can hear Milly off in the distance somewhere, giggling and cajoling Meryl to drink even more. Why did they all decide to get plastered beyond belief? Vash can’t even remember. But the whole tavern is entirely fucked up and that brings him an amused sort of glee.
“Nothing,” Vash laughs.
Wolfwood sits up just to chuck an empty bottle at Vash’s head. Vash dodges it of course and the glass goes tumbling to the floor. Fortunately, these bottles are built tough. It doesn’t shatter, and for some reason that disappoints Vash a little bit. There’s a part of him that’s always lived for the chaos—even in moments like these.
“Speaking just to hear your voice now?” Wolfwood’s southern accent makes everything come off as a slight growl. It makes Vash shiver even without the influence of alcohol.
“Maybe,” Vash sits up and grins down at his companion. “Lighten up, would ya? Don’t be so grumpy.”
“My head is killing me,” the priest complains. “Everyone is too loud. I’m broke as shit thanks to this little outing of ours and worst of all, I haven’t been laid in weeks. Cut me some slack needle noggin, I’ve the right to be grumpy in times like these.”
“Weeks?” Vash raises an eyebrow. “Poor thing! I hope mister priest junior isn’t suffering too badly amidst this tragedy.”
“Spare me the dramatics,” Wolfwood rolls his eyes. “You know as well as I do that nothing tops the comfort of having another share the night with you. What I wouldn’t give to have some beauty warm my bed tonight…”
Wolfwood sighs.
“I don’t know at all actually,” Vash admits.
The alcohol has made his tongue looser than it normally is, and so he forgets that he’s supposed to play the role of a womanizer. It’s a newly adopted persona anyways—he only picked it up in the last two decades because it made him look less inconspicuous. If there’s one thing Gunsmoke has an abundance of, it’s womanizers and drunks.
“What?” Wolfwood’s eyes narrow.
“I mean!” Vash’s laugh turns shrill. He rubs the back of his head a bit awkwardly. “Haha! I know it very well! I was just playing, you see!”
“No way, pause,” Wolfwood leans in close. Vash can smell the booze and cigarette smoke. It shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. “Is the humanoid typhoon a virgin?”
“He most certainly is not!” Vash lies. “What awful slander! Retract this terrible statement, I beseech you!”
Wolfwood cackles, all that earlier doom and gloom gone in an instant. “I knew it was an act! There’s no way a goofball like you has ever touched a woman before.”
Vash stammers. How does he think of a witty retort when his brain feels like it’s made of mush?! This isn’t fair, curse him and his stupid blabbermouth! He wants to go hide in a box and never come back out! This is so embarrassing!! He’s going to die!!
Hm. Perhaps he’s going a little over the top.
“Maybe I don’t want to sleep with women,” he challenges with a smug expression. Yeah, there we go, that’ll get him.
There’s a pregnant pause as Wolfwood absorbs his words.
Wait.
Wait just one second. That’s not what he meant to say at all.
Vash stands up abruptly.
“Anyways!” His face has to be tomato red by this point. “Man! I sure am tired! Was a pleasure drinking with you, priest! Goodnight!”
Wolfwood’s hand darts out and grabs Vash’s wrist tightly. Vash saw it coming but he yelps anyways. What a disastrous situation, he’s never drinking again. Well, maybe not ever again, but for a few days at the very least. He’s heavily debating on booking it and ditching the priest and those insurance girls entirely.
However, any further complaint he has dies on his lips as soon as he takes in Wolfwood’s expression. It’s contemplative. With an edge of this sizzling sort of heat that makes him want to squirm. What causes such a look? Vash has only seen it on men looking to score. But Wolfwood can’t be the same in this situation! He just can’t!
Or…could he?
“You don’t like women,” Wolfwood states gruffly.
Vash doesn’t know if that’s actually true—he thinks women are awfully pretty. And he wouldn’t mind kissing someone like Meryl, although he’d never admit to that outloud. But in terms of sex? The thought has never graced his mind, save for when he’s acting like a complete sleaze-bag. That’s not real though.
This warmth pooling in his chest? The way Wolfwood’s hand feels like a brand? That’s real. That’s beyond real. He swallows heavily.
“Not particularly,” he says.
“You like men, then?” Wolfwood asks.
Vash’s eyes dart around the tavern. Nobody is paying them any attention. They’re clustered together at their own tables, drinking and laughing and playing card games. Meryl and Milly are thrown into the mix somewhere—he can see Milly’s tall form peeking above the crowd on the other side of the room.
It’s just them in this strange little bubble. Almost shyly, Vash nods. Wolfwood’s grip tightens.
“Ain’t that interesting,” his lips twist into a predatory grin. “Never thought you to be the type.”
Vash yanks his hand away. Wolfwood is too warm—too tempting. Vash doesn’t have a lot of experience with this particular sensation. The allure of someone like Wolfwood is too much, too intense. He’s scared that it’s going to burn him. Vash has always made it his goal to try and understand humans, to try and be one. But there’s certain human emotions that are a little terrifying, that make him want to back into a corner and cower.
He’s not a coward by a long shot of course. He just knows his limits. Because if he’s pushed even further, he really might snap and give in to temptation.
“You learn something new everyday!” He chuckles, backing away. “Don’t forget to drink plenty of water before bed! Long day tomorrow, the last thing we need is you being even grumpier than normal!”
He turns on his heel.
“Wait.”
Vash freezes mid step. Bad idea, keep moving! He’s plenty sobered up by this point, there’s no excuse! Tonight it seems as if his limbs aren’t his own. He does not move an inch, waiting with bated breath as Wolfwood starts to speak again. What could he want? Don’t tell him he’s actually interested in sleeping with a guy like Vash! Isn’t he a priest? Vash was under the assumption that those types of humans don’t condone men laying with each other. Then again, Wolfwood has never been an ordinary priest. He’s not even an ordinary person.
“If you’re willing,” Wolfwood says, his voice barely above a heated whisper. “How about you make your way to my room? If you don’t want that then don’t show up. I won’t be offended.”
Vash blinks a few times. He’s been propositioned plenty of times before. He’s even had some heavy makeout sessions that have almost gone past heavy petting. Each time, he gently puts a stop to it or finds an excuse that won’t hurt the poor girl’s feelings. Wolfwood isn’t a broad though, his feelings don’t need to be spared. They maintain eye contact until it becomes too much for Vash, who looks away and tries not to flush even more than he already has. Yikes, his womanizer reputation never stood a chance.
He clears his throat. “Goodnight, Wolfwood.”
Wolfwood tilts his head. “Until next time, Vash.”
Vash takes his leave, rounding the corner and heading up to the stairs that lead to the rented rooms. Each step is almost impossible to take. He sort of wants to run back downstairs and shake some sense into Wolfwood. He sort of wants to go to his room and hide underneath the covers. He sort of, definitely wants to go jump out the window at the end of the hall and book it somewhere else. He hears Octovern is nice around this time of the year!
Of course, Vash doesn’t do any of those things. Because he’s so stupid, and so curious, and so fucking horny that it’s kind of embarrassing. He rarely indulges in physical pleasures—masturbation is a once in a blue moon type of deal for him. He never has the time. And when he does have the time, he’s so tired that he can’t even move! Plus, he’s never actually cared all that much for it.
Vash walks right past his door and opens the one that’s next to his. It smells like cigarettes and that strong cognac Wolfwood is fond of. Maybe he should’ve had a bath drawn first. Then it might’ve been too late, and Wolfwood would’ve come back to an empty room and a sense of rejection. Which isn’t what Vash wants. No, what he really wants, what he really needs—is to have sex with Nicholas D. Wolfwood!!
Fuck! That’s so mortifying!
He stands there for a second, twiddling his thumbs and trying to decide what to do next. Sex usually means being naked. Vash would rather not, considering the state of his body. That’s been one of the key factors to maintaining his virginity, aside from a genuine disinterest in actually sleeping with the women he chases after. He imagines the thick scarring and metal pins and grates would be rather terrifying and totally unsexy. Vash thinks he’d explode if Wolfwood got a good look at him and wasn’t able to get it up.
So some clothes need to go off for this to work, obviously.
He starts by taking off his coat. Underneath, he wears nothing but a tanktop and his jeans. The tanktop reveals too much. The cage over his chest is visible, peeking out the top of the fabric. His arms are a rather grotesque sight as well, especially the prosthetic. God fucking damn it, why didn’t he have the foresight to wear one of his turtlenecks?! How could he have predicted this, though? Vash spreads his arms out in front of him and stares at the limbs like they’ve personally offended him.
He should sneak back to his room and find a better shirt. Just as he’s about to do that, the door opens and in steps Wolfwood.
Wolfwood grins so hard that his cheeks dimple a bit. “I knew you’d come.”
Vash hurries to cross his arms. He casts him a bashful smile.
“I’m never one to pass up a good time,” he says with bravado he doesn’t feel.
Wolfwood barks out a laugh. In just a few strides, he’s standing close to Vash. His hands come up to settle on top of his waist. Vash’s mouth goes dry. Can he feel them? All those scars? The fabric of his tank top is thin, and if it weren’t for the black thread it might even be see through with how it stretches over his muscles. Aside from his coat, every article of clothing he owns is thrifted and ill fitting. He’s never felt so self conscious about it until now.
“Look at you,” Wolfwood purrs. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that ugly ass jacket on.”
“My coat is not ugly!” Vash glares at him.
“Right, sorry, it’s garish ,” Wolfwood corrects himself with an eye roll.
“You don’t even know what that word means,” Vash rolls his eyes. “You sure know how to make a lady feel appreciated. No wonder it’s been weeks since you’ve been able to get any.”
“Sorry,” he snorts. “I know how to make it up to you.”
He leans in. Vash meets him halfway.
The kiss starts off chaste and innocent. A simple press of the lips. Vash shudders like it’s something sinful anyways. Virgin he may be, but he’s kissed tons of people. None have ever left him feeling quite so–- electric . Energy that’s always lays dormant wants to fizzle and crackle to life, leaving his hair on edge and his body particularly reactive. He feels Wolfwood smile against his lips.
“Sensitive?” He teases.
“No,” he lies with a sniff.
Wolfwood kisses him harder. Vash can’t help but wrap his arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. He tastes like beer and whiskey and a little bit of something sweet. When Wolfwood’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip, Vash opens up. More of that taste floods his mouth, alongside that wonderful tongue of his. Vash twists his fingers into Wolfwood’s suit jacket and clings tightly, not even bothering to fight for some sort of dominance. With the way Wolfwood skillfully swirls his tongue against his, there was no hope of winning. Vash is like puddy in his arms, boneless and unable to properly think or move.
When Wolfwood moves away, Vash whines.
“Shh,” Wolfwood shushes him, pecking his lips once more. “I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry.”
That delightful, hazy bubble that Vash has found himself in pops as soon as he feels Wolfwood’s fingers dip underneath his shirt. His prosthetic hand flies to Wolfwoods, stilling him. His heart thumps against his chest angrily, anxiety making the organ pump much faster than it normally would. He curses this humanoid body sometimes.
“Don’t,” Vash whispers. He tucks his face into the crook of Wolfwood’s neck. “Don’t look.”
“Don’t look?” Wolfwood asks, bemused.
“It’s ugly,” he continues to hide against Wolfwood’s skin, clinging too tightly for the man to make another move. “You won’t like what you see. We can do this with most clothes on, can’t we?”
Wolfwood exhales.
“You’re talking about the scars?” He clicks his tongue. “I’ve already seen them.”
…what?
Abruptly, Vash pulls away and looks at Wolfwood like he’s crazy. “What? When?!”
“Saw you in the bath the other day,” Wolfwood admits. “The door was cracked open.”
Vash blinks slowly. Laughter bubbles out of his chest, but it’s the result of anxiety and bewilderment. Wolfwood saw all of that and still wants to sleep with him?! He guesses that explains why he didn’t react to seeing his prosthetic, but he just assumed that was him being nonchalant.
“Well…fuck,” Vash says, unsure of what else to say. “And it doesn’t bother you?”
Wolfwood scoffs. “Of course it doesn’t bother me. I’m not exactly spotless myself, you know.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know your skin was being held together by pieces of metal too. Twinsies,” Vash says with complete seriousness.
“Shut up,” Wolfwood snaps. “Vash, I don’t care about your scars and I don’t care about the metal either. It doesn’t make me want to fuck you any less. So can I please take off your clothes and give you some proper TLC?”
“TLC?” Vash snorts.
“Tender loving care,” Wolfwood smiles.
“That’s so embarrassing,” Vash complains. “Don’t say stuff like that.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“Fine, but if it kills your boner I’ll never forgive you,” he says.
Wolfwood rolls his eyes. Neither says anything else as he helps Vash pull the tank top over his head. His large hands roam the expanse of his chest for a second, his touch appreciative. It makes Vash squirm. Nobody has ever touched him like this before. Skin rubbing against skin is strange. It makes goosebumps rise. This is the human experience he’s been missing out on? No wonder people are willing to go to war for this type of connection. Petting over the clothes could never compare to the intimacy behind this.
Wolfwood puts his hand on Vash’s chest and guides him backwards. They keep going until Vash’s knees hit the bed. The other pushes him lightly and Vash falls back easily. The bed isn’t all that great—the covers feel itchy against his bare flesh, and he’s confident he can feel a broken spring press against his thigh. None of that matters though, not when Wolfwood kneels on the ground in front of him. He rubs soothing circles into his clothed calves, those gorgeously dark eyes staring up at him with an odd sparkle.
“Wolfwood…” Vash bites his lip.
“Hm?” Wolfwood hums as he works off one of Vash’s boots. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“I hope that was a rhetorical question and that you’re not actually stupid as hell,” he says, taking off the other one.
“You want me completely naked?” He squeaks.
“Duh,” Wolfwood glares at him.
He takes off his socks and tosses them aside. Vash wiggles his toes now that they’re free. He’s never been this naked in front of another human before! He doesn’t think anybody but himself has ever seen his feet, and here Wolfwood is, lovingly taking off each sock like it’s his wifely duty. Wasn’t this supposed to be a quick hook-up? No wonder people seem to swoon for Wolfwood, he’s such a gentleman in bed.
“You’re going to get naked too, right?” he asks.
“Stop being a nimwit,” he smacks the side of Vash’s thigh lightly. “And stop talking, you’re ruining the mood.”
How can he not talk?! He’s so nervous!! His first reaction to nerve wracking situations is to ramble until his mouth is numb. This often gets him in trouble, of course, but something about talking has always been soothing to him. It used to annoy the hell out of Nai when they were children, but Rem always seemed to indulge him happily. It’s a habit that he never could shake. One hundred and fifty years isn’t enough to change a person like him.
“Okay,” Vash swallows the urge to babble on even more. He makes a zipping motion over his mouth and smiles down at Wolfwood.
Wolfwood responds by looping his fingers into Vash’s beltholes and yanking them down. He yelps, the instinct to make a comment almost overcoming him. He staves it off by slapping a hand over his mouth. Wolfwood took his underwear with his pants, leaving his cock completely exposed. Wolfwood tugs Vash’s legs out of his pants entirely before putting his hands on Vash’s thighs and spreading them apart. He doesn’t mind the ugly scars that litter his legs. In fact, he leans over to kiss along one of the nastier ones. Each press of those lush lips makes him jump a bit.
“Fuck, you’re so reactive,” Wolfwood groans. “Can’t wait to see what you do when I have my dick inside of you.”
“What happened to no talking?” Vash asks breathlessly, even though he’s also thinking about how amazing it’s going to be.
“I’m the exception to the rules, of course,” he says. “You’ve got a pretty dick.”
Wolfwood spits in his hand and grabs it at the base. Vash’s brain sort of short circuits. This sensation—it’s nothing like touching himself! He chews on the inside of his lip aggressively, trying hard not to let out any mortifying noises from something as simple as a handjob. But the heat from his palm and the strong grip from his hands is simply divine. He rolls his hips with each downward stroke, his eyes closed and his face slack with bliss. God, this is so much better than he ever imagined and he’s only receiving the bare minimum.
A tongue sliding between his scrotum has his eyes flying open.
“Ah-!” He gasps.
Wolfwood sucks one of his balls into his mouth and keeps stroking his dick firmly. No, no, no! If he keeps going at it like this Vash will explode!! He slumps in relief when Wolfwood lets go of his sac only to tense up again when that devilish mouth wraps around the tip. His eyes roll to the back of his head, any protest dying on his lips at the heavenly sensation of his slit being tongued at. It’s too much, this is too much. He bites the back of his hand and increases the pressure the more Wolfwood slides down his shaft.
“You’re killing me,” Vash chokes out after a particularly powerful suck. “I can’t handle anymore, please have mercy!”
The vibrations of Wolfwood’s chuckle makes Vash squeal.
“Ngh! I’m tapping out!” He cries out. “Please, you’re gunna make me come!”
Wolfwood pulls away with a deafening pop. “That’s the goal.”
His voice is raspy from sucking Vash’s cock. The knowledge makes him spurt a hefty amount of pre, which in turn makes Vash whine from humiliation. Wolfwood laughs, his thumb tracing circles around the crown of Vash’s cock.
“What? Wanna come with me inside?” He asks huskily.
Vash nods enthusiastically. “Yes, fuck, please .”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he laughs.
He stands up and starts to hurriedly undress. Vash watches hungrily, his mouth drying as each new part of Wolfwood is revealed to him. Good God almighty, it’s as if he were sculpted by angels. Unlike Vash, the scars that adorn his tanned skin only adds to his mouth watering appeal. Vash wants to dip his tongue into his apps, he wants to feel those taught muscles against his fucking mouth.
“See something you like?” Wolfwood smirks. He kicks away his pants and there he is in his infinite glory, naked as the day he was born.
“Maybe,” Vash tries to think of something funnier to say but falls short.
His eyes zone in on Wolfwood’s cock, of course. Vash is longer than he is, not to say that Wolfwood’s dick is short. It’s much, much thicker than Vash’s though, and it’s a lot darker than the rest of him. The weirder part of Vash notices that he’s got nice balls too—they’re symmetrical and perfectly rounded. God spared nothing when creating Wolfwood. Everything is perfect.
“I don’t think it’s going to fit,” Vash licks his lips.
“Sure it will,” he snorts. “Scared?”
“Me?” Vash grins at him despite his nerves. “I laugh in the face of fear!”
“Lay back then,” he instructs.
Vash does as asked. Wolfwood rummages around his belongings for a moment before he hears a soft, ‘ah-hah’. He sits up on his elbows, curious as to what Wolfwood is doing. In his hands is a small pot, smaller than the palm of his hand. He eyes it with a tilted head.
“What’s that?” Vash asks.
“Lube,” Wolfwood explains, going back to the spot he was previously in. “It’ll help make the first of it less painful.”
Vash frowns. “Pain doesn’t bother me.”
Wolfwood pauses in his quest to unscrew the stupidly tight lid. He gives Vash a meaningful look.
“I do,” he says. “And I’m going to make your first time a damned good one. Don’t let men cram their dicks up your ass with no preparation, that’s how you get seriously hurt.”
He’s been seriously hurt plenty of times before. Nothing that a bit of needle, thread and patience can’t help. He doesn’t mention that though.
“There probably won’t be anyone else,” Vash says. “So don’t worry about it, okay?”
Wolfwood finally has the cap open when he says that. He sends Vash a sharp look.
“What do you mean by that?”
Vash shrugs and gives him a dopey smile. “Means you're special! Come on now, you’re going to bore me at this rate.”
“Is that so?” Wolfwood dips his fingers into the thick substance. “You’ll eat those words, I promise you that.”
“Sure- Oh !”
There’s a finger inside of him, up to the second knuckle. It certainly doesn’t hurt, but it’s also not the best feeling in the world. He wiggles a bit. Vash really doesn’t know how to explain it, other than the fact that there’s something solid inside of him. He clenches down instinctively. Well, this ain’t so bad at all! What was Wolfwood hyping up?
Wolfwood pushes his finger in and out for a couple of strokes before a second one is added. This one is a tighter fit, but there still isn’t anything he’d describe as pain. Maybe a strange tautness at his rim, but it’s nothing more than that. He breathes through it anyways, closing his eyes and focusing solely on the sensation of those fingers thrusting inside of him. He can’t help but make small noises amidst this new feeling.
Things get interesting when the third finger is added. Wolfwood somehow manages to reach deeper than he did before. He touches something inside of him. Sparks flash before his eyes and pleasure shoots up his spine like a fucking rocket. Vash’s hips buck and he moans loudly. What the fuck is this?! What did he just do?!
“There it is,” Wolfwood says smugly. “Know what that is?”
“N-no,” Vash stutters.
Wolfwood rubs against that spot firmly. Vash has to physically restrain himself from writhing from pleasure. It’s so good! It’s better than a handjob and a close contender to the blowjob. His cock begins to leak a steady stream of pre, making him feel wet and gross. This is debauched, he thinks deliriously. He might just come from fingers being up his ass.
“That’s your prostate,” he says, placing a kiss on his inner thigh. “This is what makes bottoming worth your fucking while.”
“Then why aren’t you volunteering to bottom?” Vash manages to ask, his voice unsteady.
“Cause I knew I had to see your reaction to this,” Wolfwood explains. “If you want to fuck me next time, go for it.”
His heart skips a beat at the idea of their being a next time. God, if you’re listening, please let there be a next time. He promises to be a good boy. Fuck, he’ll even start going to church if it means he can have this again.
“I’m more worried about you fucking me now,” Vash grunts. “Put it in, I’m way beyond ready.”
“Okay, hand me a pillow,” Wolfwood holds his hand out.
Vash reaches behind him and tosses it at him. He’s bemused by the goal here. When Wolfwood eases his hips up and slides the pillow underneath him, he understands it a bit better. Lumbar support—smart. He wouldn’t have thought of it himself, but he supposes it’d be important during an activity like this.
“So attentive,” he purrs. “You make this lady feel so special.”
“I do my best,” Wolfwood shakes his head.
The sound of him slickening up his cock is loud. In a few seconds, that lovely specimen is going to be inside of him. Vash hardly knows how to react to this. He stares up at the ceiling, both giddy and anxiety ridden. Even if it’s not good for Vash, he wants it to be good for Wolfwood. He wants to give him an incentive to come back for more. Vash doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something quite like this before, for someone to stay by his side and desire him.
That might be too much to ask for. He knows that realistically, the two could never stay together. At the end of the day, their paths are going to diverge. That’s how it’s always been. Wolfwood certainly isn’t going to break that mold—he can’t. He’s only human, after all.
Sheesh, when did his thoughts get so depressive?! Think about happy things, like doughnuts and Wolfwood’s cock pressing up against his rim.
“Ready, my fair lady?”
“I seem to recall already saying so,” Vash reminds him. “Come on, f-fuck me.”
Ah! What bold words! He can’t believe they came from his own mouth!
There’s no more preamble, Wolfwood applies pressure and easily sinks in a few inches. Vash hisses. So there’s the pain. It’s nothing more than a sting, really. Vash has been ripped apart before, this is like stubbing his toe compared to that. He forces himself to stay relaxed, keeping his muscles completely lax as Wolfwood bottoms out.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel fucking amazing.”
Vash wraps his legs around Wolfwood’s strong waist.
“Yeah? Come on priest, fuck me real good.”
The first few thrusts are merely gentle rolls of his hips. Vash encourages him to go harder by squeezing his legs around him even tighter. It doesn’t take much after that. In what feels like seconds, Wolfwood is pulling out and pushing back in with deep, long strokes. He builds up a rhythm like this, altering sometimes to give him a shorter or faster thrust. This pace—it’s almost intimate. He imagined being roughly taken and fucked within an inch of his life.
He likes this.
No, he loves this.
The pain has long since ebbed away, leaving only tingling zaps of pleasure. Wolfwood’s hands are clasped around his waist, using that as leverage to fuck him even harder.
“You’ve got such a girlish waist,” Wolfwood pants. “It’s so small and the rest of you is so fucking big.”
Vash clenches down spitefully, throwing off his rhythm.
“Calling me fat?” Vash huffs. “You’re lucky your dick is so nice.”
“Am I?” He chuckles. “Glad to know you love my cock so much.”
Before Vash can respond, Wolfwood changes the angle he’s thrusting at. Vash throws his head back, bracing his hands on the headboard behind him. There’s that damned spot again! Now, everytime Wolfwood thrusts, the head of his cock jabs right against it. Vash convulses, letting out loud and pitiful noises that’ll embarrass him when he’s in a more lucid state. Right now, he doesn’t care. The world consists of just the two of them, one human and one plant becoming one.
Something about that is a little blasphemous. Especially since one is an ordained priest.
“Vash,” Wolfwood gasps, his pace becoming sloppy. “Gunna come!”
“Inside,” Vash urges.
After three more rough pumps, Wolfwood stills with a guttural groan. Liquid warmth fills Vash from the inside. That’s Wolfwood’s essence, he thinks reverently. It’s spilling inside the cradle of his body. He clenches hard, milking Wolfwood for all his worth. The priest wheezes from the pleasure, his hips jerking sporadically.
Vash reaches between them to take himself in hand but Wolfwood slaps it away.
“Let me take care of that,” he grunts.
He strokes his cock fast and messily, the noise reverberating in Vash’s skull. He was already on edge before this, so it only takes about half a minute before his back is arching and cum is splattering across his stomach.
“Holy shit,” Vash says between heaving breaths. “Holy shit .”
Wolfwood pulls out and collapses next to him. Vash feels impossibly empty without him inside. Fuck, he’s ruined forever after this. Anal sex has opened up a new door to life for him—how’s he to live without it?!
“That was one of the best lays of my entire fucking life,” Wolfwood tells him.
“Same here,” Vash snorts.
Wolfwood shoves his shoulder.
“I’ve been your only lay,” he says. “Of course I’d be the best.”
Vash laughs. They spend a few more moments in silence before Vash regrettably makes the decision to get up. However, as soon as he sits up, Wolfwood grabs his elbow.
“Hey, woah, where you going?” He asks.
Vash quirks his eyebrow. “To my room? Where else would I go?”
“Um, no,” Wolfwood tugs him back down. “You can’t just bang me and then ditch me, don’t be a dick.”
He winces. “Sorry, I thought you’d want me to leave.”
“Needle noggin, stop being such an idiot,” he snaps, sounding genuinely irritated. “Come on, lay down. Said it yourself, we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
His soul feels light.
“Okay,” Vash smiles. “Can we at least get under the covers? It’s cold! I’m freezing my tits off!”
Wolfwood mutters, but eventually they’re tucked underneath the blanket. Wolfwood holds him in his arms, his breathing steady and his heartbeat grounding Vash. This won’t last forever. Nothing in his life does. But if Vash closes his eyes and focuses hard enough, he can pretend that this will be his eternity. Wrapped in the arms of someone he cares about and held closed like a cherished partner.
He falls asleep to this fantasy and dreams not of a song and a gentle woman, but of a man who reminds him of his humanity.