Chapter Text
Despite the fact that Nai couldn’t be happier for, or prouder of Vash and what he’s accomplished, he can’t help the underlying feeling of dread upon noticing the arms-full of shopping bags his twin brings home from his, and Nai quotes: quick stop to the store. The feeling only grows when Vash asks Nai to help him with the rest of the bags.
Nai agrees, if only because Vash’s prosthetic arm had made an alarming whir in protest at the weight of the items he’d carried thus far, but he’s not happy about it, especially when he spies a pack of balloons and streamers atop whatever else Vash had acquired in one of the half a dozen bags he brings up the stairs.
Only once their kitchen table, bench and a good portion of the floorspace are covered in everything does Vash gesture to his spoils with a dramatic flourish, a wide grin on his face as he declares, confidently and with no room for argument, that they’re throwing a party. That night.
So the party had been Vash’s idea, a way to get their—his— friends together to celebrate him getting his BSN after working so hard for it; a night in which he can let his hair down and have fun, knowing he’s a step closer to his goal.
Nai didn’t want him to have a party. He didn’t want people he barely knew in their apartment, didn’t want the loud music and louder drunks meandering around his safe space. It’s bad enough when their neighbours have a gathering of some kind; the walls shaking with the bass of whatever trashy music they blast that have Nai’s ears ringing for hours afterwards. He has no doubt that this will be worse.
“Vash, you know I’m proud of you, but…do you have to throw a party?” Nai had asked while watching his twin unpack a carton of beer, taking the bottles and filling the empty space on the shelves in their fridge. He glances at the impressive pile of boxes and bags alike amidst the groceries on their admittedly large kitchen table overflowing with gifts from Vash’s coworkers, friends and even neighbourhood store owners; recognition and congratulations for all of Vash’s hard work, and treats for him being a loyal customer throughout the years. “Can’t we just celebrate alone?”
Vash had laughed, though Nai didn’t see what was funny, watching him place the last of the drinks in the fridge and closing the door, before he’d made his way across the kitchen to where Nai was loitering in the doorway. He placed chilled hands, both flesh and prosthetic, on Nai’s shoulders, his expression soft.
“I know you’re not very social and would prefer a quiet night,” Vash starts, fingers shifting against the tense muscle across the top of Nai’s back until he begins to slowly relax. “It’s just one night, okay? All I’m asking is for you to make a brief appearance, then you can hide in your room. Please, Nai.” Vash says when Nai opens his mouth to protest, and he quickly snaps his jaw shut when faced with those bright, puppy-dog eyes of his. “Just one night.”
So here he is, sitting in his room with noise-cancelling headphones that are doing very little to live up to their name, ripping them off his head only to wince as the full volume of the mix one of Vash’s friends had put together for the party hits him. The only consolation is that it’s mostly songs Vash likes, and Vash’s taste in music, though a far cry from Nai’s, is better than the neighbour’s.
After he had made good on his reluctant agreement and hung around at the beginning of the party, half-heartedly greeting guests he only somewhat knew, and sticking more or less to Vash’s side for close to an hour, he’d made his leave.
Vash partially followed Nai in his attempt to escape with the promise of an untouched box of vegetarian pizza Vash said will be ordered just for him, and, now feeling hungry enough to risk it, Nai leaves the minimal comfort his room provides in search of the aforementioned food.
Weaving through the clumps of partygoers, sticking more or less to the walls in an attempt to avoid everyone, blinking through the smoke of the machine Vash insisted on hiring, Nai finally enters the kitchen, blessedly devoid of people, and finds the pizza box tucked into a corner of the kitchen countertop, a post-it note that reads “FOR KNIVES, DO NOT EAT!” stuck to it, ensuring the fact that no one else has or will touch it, and Nai can’t help the soft uptick of the corner of his mouth as he reads Vash’s unmistakable scrawl.
Aiming to simply take the box and some napkins back to his room, Nai’s stopped in his tracks by a familiar face leering at him from the doorway, and it has Nai faltering, momentarily forgetting his mission.
Enter Nicholas D. Wolfwood: Nai’s regrettable past not-quite-fling, and Vash’s current, much to Nai’s disapproval.
That's not entirely true, a small part of Nai's mind supplies, sounding suspiciously like Vash, but Nai elects to ignore it, deciding he’d rather live in denial than admit he’s more jealous than disapproving; misses the days where the three of them—Nai, Nicholas and Vash, together, would—
“Vash told me you were hiding,” Nicholas says in lieu of a greeting. “I see you’ve emerged.”
“I haven’t,” Nai says, lifting the pizza box in explanation. “Just came out for this.”
He tries not to meet Nicholas’ stare, that smirk that spells imminent danger, aims to step around him but is stopped by a hand to the sternum, and Nai accidentally looks up, meets those dark, equally dangerous eyes.
“You don’t want to join the game going on out there?” He asks, the hard candy of the sucker he has clicking against the back of his teeth as he talks, and he inclines his head towards the main crowd gathered on one side of the living room, where Nai can see Vash through the throng of people. The thought of getting close to all those practical strangers has Nai’s skin crawling.
“No, not necessarily.” He manages, shooting Nicholas a glare that doesn’t affect him, Nicholas merely grinning in the face of his attempt at ire. “I’m going now.”
Once again, he’s stopped, and the pizza box dents in Nai’s hold as he grips it, his free hand clenching into a fist at his side in barely restrained anger at Nicholas’ palm suddenly against his chest, stepping closer as if he doesn’t notice Nai’s growing fury, or just doesn’t care .
“Come on Nai,” Nicholas jeers, Nai’s teeth gritting at the purposeful use of his name, eyes on the far wall and wanting nothing more than to be back in his room, regretting his decision to leave it in the first place. “Vash has eyed the hallway every five minutes since I got here, just waiting for you to appear. He wants you out there real bad.”
“I didn’t even want him to throw a party in the first place, he knows this.” Nai practically seethes. “He’s the one that told me I can stay in the bedroom, he understands my aversion, so if you don’t mind—”
“You know he just said that to be nice, ‘cause he does know how you feel, but, have you thought about how Vash feels?” Nicholas says, effectively cutting off Nai’s attempt to leave for the umpteenth time, and when Nai says nothing, nods as if that’s answer enough. “Just a little while, yeah? Have a drink, sit by us. Vash will be happy if you do.”
Nai is just about to tell Nicholas to fuck right off, or punch him in the mouth, whichever comes first, when he catches Vash’s eye, and it’s hard to deny the way his face lights up upon seeing Nai and Nicholas in the doorway, lifting his hand in a small wave. It has Nai’s resolve slipping, and when he glances back at Nicholas, his gaze is knowing, not only that, but understanding, having been on the receiving end of Vash’s sweet facial expressions himself on more than several thousand occasions.
“One drink,” Nai acquiesces, “but I am not playing truth or dare or whatever the fuck.” He says, pointing a finger at Nicholas who grins, takes a hold of Nai’s aloft wrist and begins to drag him towards the crowd.
“Deal,” he says, and Nai barely resists the urge to dig his heels into the ground, tripping after Nicholas as he’s tugged Vash’s way, his twin noticing and exclaiming around the lip of the beer bottle he’s currently gulping from, throwing up his free arm.
“Nai! ” Vash shouts as soon as his mouth is empty, scooting over and patting the cushion excitedly, bumping shoulders with Nai as soon as he sits down, Nicholas following him down on his other side, crowding him in. “Are you going to play?” Vash asks, all large grin and bright eyes, his cheeks flushed from drinking.
Nai almost immediately wants to leave, but seeing Vash look so happy, Nai has to remind himself it’s not about him, it’s about Vash and what he’s accomplished; celebrating that. So, he manages a small smile, nods once, mutters something along the lines of him playing for a few minutes, and gets the pleasure of witnessing Vash’s smile grow impossibly wider, his eyes blinding, and gets an armful of his brother who’s suddenly hugging him, and Nai can't resist returning the embrace.
Having, admittedly, not been invited to many parties growing up, Nai’s only clue for what the game could have in store is what he’s seen from those teen flicks Vash used to make them watch. He’s simultaneously pleasantly surprised and somewhat mortified to find, that instead of the sexual questions and dares he’d come to expect, the game instead teeters along the line between weird and gross, Nai watching with a grimace as a guy he doesn’t know downs a thick, sludgy concoction of alcohol and snack foods mixed together in a solo cup.
His attention is pulled away from the sight by the back of a hand knocking gently once, twice against his shoulder, and Nai drags his eyes away from the choking partygoer to Nicholas, who tilts his head towards the kitchen, making a small, clicking sound that gets lost in the uproar of grossed-out exclamations. When Nai just stares, Nicholas rolls his eyes, stands, and gives Nai an expectant look.
Wary of what Nicholas is planning, after being coerced out here despite his protests only to be dragged away again not twenty minutes later, but deciding he’d rather be away from the threat of someone being sick in front of him, Nai cautiously follows Nicholas’ lead with his mostly whole pizza in tow, the two heading back into the relative quiet of the kitchen. Only when they’re out of eyeshot from the doorway does Nicholas turn around, one hand lifting to tuck fingers behind his ear before brandishing a shabbily rolled joint like it’s a magic trick, eyebrows wagging.
“Realised belatedly we need to get that stick out of your ass before you can really party.” Nicholas says like that makes the most sense, patting his pockets in search of his lighter while Nai crosses his arms, affronted.
“I do not have a stick up my—"
“Found it,” Nicholas cuts him off, doing his intricate lighter tossing trick that only Vash is impressed by as he smirks at Nai. “And yes, you do. This will help. Come,”
With that, Nicholas leans over the counter to crack the window before sitting himself down on the kitchen floor, and Nai can’t help the way his nose turns up. He’d mopped the floors only the day before, but with so many people in the apartment tonight, who knows what’s been traipsed across the tile. At the very least, Nai is glad Vash kept their shoes at the door rule in place for the party.
Sensing his reluctance, Nicholas shifts, stripping the soft, threadbare zip-up hoodie he wore and placing it on the ground beside him. He’s left then in his dark muscle tank that smells faintly of motor oil—having come here right after work—gesturing to the garment on the floor.
“That better?” Nicholas asks around the unlit joint between his lips, his candy long gone, tossing his lighter again, and Nai makes a show of considering it.
“I think that made it worse.” Nai decides, keeping the smirk that wants to emerge at bay when Nicholas scoffs.
“Sit down you dick.” When Nai does, amused, Nicholas lights up, cupping his hand to protect the flame from the non-existent breeze out of habit just like Nai has seen him do a million times with his cigarettes and joints alike, inhaling. “See if I share my weed with you—this is good shit, y’know?” Nicholas points to the drugs in question with his free hand as white smoke begins to billow from his nostrils.
Despite his threat of excluding Nai, Nicholas holds out the joint in offering, and Nai takes it after only a second of hesitation, making Nicholas’ seemingly ever-present smirk grow more smug. He takes a hit, keeping continuous eye contact with Nicholas as he does so, knowing the bastard is expecting him to choke. It may have been a while since Nai last got high, but not that long, the smooth sensation of the smoke travelling down his throat and into his lungs a familiar one, and Nai sighs on the exhale, his muscles already growing lax in anticipation for the drugs to take effect.
The unintentional show he puts on is worth it if only to watch Nicholas’ smirk falter for once, and if Nai wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks are tinted ever so slightly with a blush as Nai hands the joint back to him.
“You’re right,” Nai mutters, “that is good.”
Nicholas merely huffs in answer, taking another drag, eyes heavy on Nai. They stare one another down for a few puffs each, a challenge to see who will break first, a years-old game for the two of them.
“So,” Nicholas breaks the silence, ignoring the way Nai gloats at his victory by turning his attention towards the far side of the kitchen, and Nai does not stare at his profile when he does, doesn’t trace his scruffy jaw with his eyes, the slope of his aquiline nose— “You think this will help you with being less of an asshole to Vash’s friends?” He asks, gesturing with the joint.
“I’m not being an asshole,” Nai argues, “I’m just not talking to them. They need to take a hint, mind their business.”
“That’s called being an asshole, angel.” Nicholas says, and Nai hates the way his body betrays him—the clench behind his navel he feels at the casual way the pet name is dropped. “And what business? The fact that you’re a shut-in outside of work? That you only have two friends and that one of them is your brother? Or…” Nicholas hums, pausing in the midst of his list to inhale from the quickly dwindling joint. “That you and said brother have been fucking since before you knew what that meant?” He finally turns his gaze back to Nai as he says it, holding out the joint for Nai to take. “It’d be a real shame, if people found out about that business.”
“What, are you threatening to tell?” Nai asks, eyes narrowing, ignoring the joint in favour of glaring. “What could you possibly gain by doing that?”
“I didn’t say shit about telling,” Nicholas says, hands lifting in mock surrender and subsequently taking the joint back as he does so. “Just that it’d suck if it did get out. Besides, if people paid even an ounce of attention to the way you look at Vash they’d know, anyway.”
"Why even fucking bring it up, then?” Nai bites out, snatching the joint from Nicholas before he can hog the rest, taking it for himself until there’s nothing left, and it earns him an amused huff, Nai bristling when Nicholas leans close, his lips beside Nai’s ear.
“Because I like getting you all riled up, darling…” His voice is low, more growl than anything, his hand dropping to Nai’s thigh. It has ice and heat simultaneously rolling down the length of Nai’s spine, making him shudder, his cock throbbing, and Nai has to bite his lip, force his eyes to stay open, to not flutter. To not rock his hips and encourage Nicholas’ hand to slide further up and—
Stupid fucking weed. Stupid Wolfwood—
With a sudden crack of his prosthetic hand against the doorframe, Vash practically explodes into the kitchen, face flushed and eyes bright, he grins as soon as he sees Nai and Nicholas leant against the cabinetry.
“There you guys are!” Vash exclaims in a voice way too boisterous for the quieter atmosphere of the kitchen, and Nicholas pulls back from Nai to look up at him, amusement turning the corner of his mouth up, and Nai takes the moment to compose himself, still feeling the heat of Nicholas’ breath against his burning ear, the side of his neck. Where his hand touched his thigh.
“Here we are,” Nicholas belatedly answers, arm outstretched as if he can steady Vash’s stumbling towards them from their post on the floor.
By some miracle, Vash stays upright long enough to make it across the room, before promptly collapsing onto Nicholas’ lap, giving a short, snorting laugh when Nicholas adjusts him to sit more comfortably, and he hums, then frowns.
"Did you guys smoke?” He asks, a pout threatening to push his bottom lip out. “Without me?” Vash sounds about ready to cry, and before Nai can open his mouth to argue that Vash is drunk, and that he doesn’t need drugs on top of that, Nicholas beats him to it.
“You’re absolutely smashed, blondie, you don’t need weed, too.” Nicholas points out, tone surprisingly stern, which only encourages the pout Vash was somehow holding back to come out, and has Nai silently appreciating him for not encouraging Vash’s becoming even more inebriated than he clearly already is. Though in saying that, maybe Nicholas should have been supervising Vash’s drinking instead of smoking with Nai to begin with. Or Nai should have been.
Vash sighs, making it a loud and dramatic affair, complete with drawing out the sound until it becomes a frustrated groan, tilting his head back to cry it out to the ceiling and only just managing to stay more or less upright by Nicholas placing his hands on Vash’s back, with Vash’s arms flinging haphazardly over Nicholas’ shoulders.
"Fine." Vash acquiesces easily enough, letting himself be tilted back up in some semblance of being vertical, and he smiles down at Nicholas, stroking his flesh hand across his stubbled jaw. “Hi,” he whispers, and Nai just about rolls his eyes at the sudden softness of his tone.
It’s all Nai can do to push down the sudden envy threatening to arise, unwilling to admit he wishes Vash would look at him that way right now.
“Hey there,” Nicholas murmurs back, letting Vash lean close to kiss him, but not before they both glance in Nai’s direction, eyes closing just as their lips meet.
It’s immediately deep, with Vash moaning softly into it, and Nai stares at the way their lips lock, the flash of tongue in between, and swallows.
He can’t help but think about kissing Vash like that, wishing he could right here, right now, knowing just what his tongue is capable of and just what Nicholas is feeling when he hears the man groan, eyes flitting down to where his fingers flex on Vash’s hips and up again, not wanting to look away from their faces. Nai also thinks about kissing Nicholas, though he tries not to, only succeeding in quelling his desires for so long; thinks of those hands on his hips, Nicholas’ weight as it pressed him down into the cushions of an old couch in an older apartment, and shivers at the memories.
It's evident in the way that Vash widens the expanse of his legs to more securely straddle Nicholas’ lap, and in the possessive grip of Vash's waist Nicholas takes ahold of that they’re turning this into a real spectacle for Nai’s benefit, especially when Vash tilts his head back with a shaking moan, Nicholas trailing open-mouthed kisses down the length of his throat when he does so. All Nai can do is sit and watch, resolutely ignoring the throbbing between his legs and instead reaching for his mostly forgotten pizza, half-heartedly chewing at a slice while his twin makes out with their significant annoyance beside him.
For a moment, a part of Nai thinks perhaps he should put a stop to this before it escalates, knowing full well that the two are more insatiable than usual when under the influence, either one, and would not be so against the idea of fucking on the floor a room away from a party of people. Another, ever so slightly louder and prominent (read: horny) part wants to see how far they’re willing to take things, watching the way Vash begins to rock his hips into Nicholas’ lap, the way Nicholas sucks at Vash’s tongue not unlike he would his dick, and Nai feels the heat on his face positively pulse at the imagery; more tucked away memories inching their way to the forefront.
Just as Nai decides maybe he will sit back and let this happen, a jangling pocket-rocket of a person practically flies into the kitchen, making everyone flinch at the sudden arrival. Zazie stands at the doorway, their bright eyes widening at the scene, before a grinning smirk takes over their entire face.
“Just came to let the host know that drinks are running low out there, but maybe we should forgo restocking and let this party wind down, hmm?” They laugh, rocking back and forth with their hands on the doorframe. “Looks like you’re all starting a party of your own.” Glancing from Vash and Nicholas to Nai and back, one eyebrow raises slightly. “A weird one.”
The observation has Nai flushing for a different reason, but before he can say anything—not that he’d know what to say to that—Vash staggers his way to standing.
“Alright, alright—yeah, I’m beat, and it’s…” Vash squints at the digital clock on the microwave across the room, despite there being an analog on the wall to his left. “After twelve—shit, since when?” Vash shakes his head, and Zazie’s still grinning, gesturing over their shoulder with a pointed thumb.
“Should I tell people to make like bugs and scram, then?” They ask, and Vash nods.
“Yeah, just gimme a minute and I’ll—“
“Oi everyone! Vash and Wolfwood are about’a fuck! We should get out of here before we’re forced to listen to it!” Zazie says with a flourishing turn towards the living room, cupping their hands either side of their mouth for good measure. “Say ‘thanks for the party Vash’, send Knives a prayer and get out of here!” At the resulting commotion of people gathering their things to leave, Zazie turns back around, giving a bow complete with a rotating hand. “And, voilà!” They sing-song, glancing up from under their wild, red and white hair, their clunky, beaded hair jewellery clinking, looking accomplished.
Nicholas snorts as Vash covers his eyes with a hand, in either embarrassment or exasperation Nai isn’t so sure, but he’s laughing, so it must not be so bad.
“That sure is one way to do it.” Nicholas says, still sprawled against the cabinetry, and Vash glances back at him, at Nai, gesturing vaguely towards the living room.
“I’m just gonna…” He doesn’t elaborate beyond that, and instead leaves the room, Zazie glancing after him, turning back long enough to give Nicholas and Nai a salute, and follows him out.
There’s a cacophony of farewells, of congrats again, Vash’s and a combination of be safe and have fun’s with a few use protection’s thrown in for good measure. Nai listens to it all from the kitchen and, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, the tension of his usual stress reserved for social gatherings steadily leaves him like a weight being lifted from his shoulders. For the first time that night, Nai feels like he can fully relax, knowing that everyone is finally leaving.
Almost, everyone.
Sliding his gaze to Nicholas, he finds the man already looking at him, a lazy, sly smile on his face, and Nai quickly looks away again.
“Stop staring at me.” Nai snaps, or attempts to—the weed in his system already kicking in, and with it its effect on the sharpness of his edges. The sanding them down to something less abrasive, less likely to cut, is already evident, making Nai cuss out Nicholas and his primo supplier in his head.
“Why would I do that? You’re too pretty not to stare at.” Nicholas says, and if Nai’s face wasn’t already flushed, he’s sure it would positively bloom at that, much to his annoyance.
Instead of warranting that with a response, Nai gets up from the floor, stepping beneath the entrance to the living room in time to watch the last of the loiterers exiting the apartment, Vash waving at their retreating backs before closing the door behind them, the house suddenly, blissfully, silent.
There’s still phantom bass pulsing beneath Nai’s socked feet, the smell of artificial (and real) smoke in the air, and the greasy scent of pizza just beneath followed closely by alcohol, which Nai turns his nose up at, just grateful for the fact no one was too stupid or drunk enough to bring any of that back up.
Vash teeters where he stands, leaning heavily into the wall of the entry hall, groaning softly, and Nai makes his way over, sidling up behind his twin and pressing a soft kiss to the flushed skin of the back of his neck, Vash tilting back into his hold.
“You okay?” Nai murmurs, lips to Vash’s warm skin, and feels more than hears his answering hum.
“I’m good, just drunk.” He huffs a laugh, turning in Nai’s arms and cupping his cheeks, the metal of his prosthetic blessedly cool against him. “You know how, earlier, you promised you’d give me anything to make up for staying in our room most of the night?” Vash asks, eyes alight, and a memory resurfaces in Nai’s weed-muddled mind from just before the party was set to begin, when Vash told him he could hide away:
“I really do hope you have fun, okay?” Nai had said, hands on Vash’s cheeks not unlike Vash’s are on his now. “I’ll make it up to you, after. Whatever you want, as your congratulations gift from me, I’ll give you.” Nai had sealed his declaration with a soft, slow kiss against Vash’s lips, whispering against them: “I promise.”
“Yeah?” Nai answers, back to the present, and Vash bites his lip, his slightly unfocused eyes flitting between Nai’s.
“After cleaning up a bit, I want you to join Nick and me, not just watch.” Vash says, voice low, conspiratorial, thumbs stroking Nai’s cheeks and unaware of the way Nai’s brain short-circuits at the request. “I want you to touch him, for him to touch you, and I want us all to be together.”
For a second, Nai considers arguing that he hadn’t actually hidden away that long in the grand scheme of things, and that, in that case, Nai’s promise of whatever Vash wanted is in fact void, as that only applied were Nai to hide away the whole party, but…looking at Vash’s face, at his open, pleading, albeit drunk expression, Nai finds it extremely difficult to say no.
Not that Nai has never been very good at saying no to Vash, in any case.
Nai must be pulling some kind of face, because Vash is quick to say: “You don’t have to go all the way tonight! Just…just something, y’know?” His eyes dart from Nai’s to over his shoulder and back again, and Nai doesn’t need to turn and look to know that Nicholas has made an appearance. “You should see the way he looks at you, when he thinks you’re not looking.” Vash whispers, leaning close to Nai’s ear. “It’s almost as full of desire as the way you look at him , too.” Vash continues, making Nai’s breath catch in his throat.
“I don’t—“ He tries, but Vash shakes his head.
“You can’t lie to me, Nai.” He says, but he’s smiling, still holding onto Nai’s face. “I think it’s good for you, both of you, to fawn over each other, and not just me. Not that I’m complaining.” Vash doesn’t sound nearly as drunk as he did a few moments ago, holding a conversation like this, and Nai frowns. “Just consider it, at the very least.”
With that, Vash steps out of Nai’s loose embrace, stumbling only once, making his way back into the heart of the apartment to where Nicholas stands, Nai looking at them just in time to see Nicholas’ eyebrow raise, smiling at Vash and opening his mouth to say something Nai can’t quite hear from where he’s standing, over the blood rushing in his ears, so he quickly turns his attention away from them.
Ensuring the front door is locked, Nai tries to ignore what Vash had said—had implied —that he’d noticed… something, between him and Nicholas. Yearning glances, desire, Vash had said, and Nai shivers at the word.
He doesn’t desire Nicholas D. Wolfwood, and the idea that anyone could makes Nai want to laugh. Sure, he’s attractive, in a rugged sort of way he supposes. But not desirable. And sure, he’s good to Vash, as much as Nai hates to admit; has ensured his twin is happy and satisfied, in more ways than one, if the way Vash would lie lax on the couch, rubbing his thighs together with a pleasant little hum, the hint of pink skin and his murmuring of Nicholas’ stubble were anything to go by. And maybe Nai has thought more than once about what it’d be like to have that feeling between his own thighs, wondered what it’d be like to crush Nicholas’ head between them while he—
Nai digresses.
The clang of empty soda and alcohol cans being dropped into a box brings Nai back to where he’s still standing by the front door, and he shakes himself out of his stupor, ensuring the lock is in place one, two more times before making his way over to help Vash gather the paper plates, napkins and empty pizza boxes to clean up.
The three together make quick work of tidying, with Nicholas making a trip downstairs with the trash while Nai wipes down the surfaces, giving the floor a quick vacuum and only just stopping himself from grabbing the mop too with Vash taking ahold of his hands and dragging him away from the cleaning supply closet in the hall and into the living room, blinking sluggishly at him.
“I’ll do that in the morning, okay?” Vash mutters, and Nai reluctantly nods. “We’re gonna rest for now.”
“What about…” Nai trails off, cursing himself for beginning to bring it up in the face of Vash potentially having forgotten, forcing himself to complete the thought when Vash hums, prompting him to continue. “What you wanted?” Nai finishes, lamely, and Vash gives a slow, sleepy smile.
“Ah,” he says, just as the front door opens, signalling Nicholas’ return from the dumpsters. Shame. “We’ll talk about that later.”
“Talk about what later?” Nicholas asks, and Nai turns, pointing to the door.
“Nothing, did you lock that?” He asks, and Nicholas halts mid-step, twisting to backtrack and lock the door, Nai exhaling easier upon hearing the finalising click. “Thanks.”
“All good. Though, I’m just gonna have to unlock it again in a minute.” Nicholas says, stepping past Nai and Vash and into the kitchen to wash his hands. “I should get out of your hair.” He says over the running water, and Nai doesn’t miss the way Vash pouts a little at that, the water cutting off and Nicholas stepping back towards them with a piece of paper towel to dry his hands with. “Thanks for a lovely evening as always, sweetheart.” He says, smiling at Vash, then nods to Nai. “Darling.” He says, and Nai ignores the way that particular term of endearment coming from Nicholas makes him feel for the time being in order to say:
“Stay.”
The word is out of his mouth before he really registers that he’s going to say it, and both Nicholas’ and Vash’s eyes turn to him, pinning him in place.
“I mean,” Nai shrugs, aiming for nonchalant and missing the mark spectacularly, inwardly wincing when the corner of Nicholas’ mouth quirks up slightly at the attempt. “It’s late, and you’re not sober, so just…” Nai meets Nicholas’ stare, resisting the urge to look away when those dark eyes meet his head-on. “Stay.” He repeats, quieter.
There’s a tense, silent beat, Nai watching Vash glance between himself and Nicholas as they stare one another down for the duration of it, before Nicholas hums, smiling in a way that’s all too knowing for Nai’s liking, shrugging in a much more successful display of casualness than Nai just had. Bastard.
“You twisted my arm, angel.” Nicholas says, making a show of grabbing his own bicep and grinning when Nai rolls his eyes. “I’ll stay.”
“Yes!” Vash nearly shouts, practically falling into Nicholas who only just manages to catch him, his arms flying around his neck and cheek rubbing against his in a nuzzle that Nicholas laughs at. Eyes shifting to Nai, his smile softens into something tender, and Nai definitely has to look away from them, less his heart do something stupid like skip a beat, or something.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Nicholas murmurs to Vash, who hums contentedly, pulling back enough to cup Nicholas’ jaw and kiss him softly, then pulling away from his embrace entirely.
“You two go warm up the bed!” He says, twisting in a grand show of a surprising amount of grace and disappearing down the hall, towards the bathroom.
Nicholas looks at Nai once more, and Nai, unable to handle the intensity of his stare for the minute, gestures after Vash.
“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Nai says, stepping away, and Nicholas nods. Nai waits a moment, ensures Nicholas has nothing else to say before walking the same way Vash had gone, finding him sitting haphazardly on the edge of the tub trying to tug off his tight ( skin -tight) pants, their multitude of straps and buckles catching together and bunching around his ankles.
Nai sighs, crouching in front of his twin to help him undress, and Vash giggles, still on the further-end of tipsy, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches Nai strip him, only marginally helping.
“I like seeing you and Nick getting along.” He says once Nai’s got him out of his clothes, placing them in the hamper in the corner before beginning to get Vash’s toothbrush ready for him. “You two look good together.”
Nai tries to ignore him, instead handing him his prepared toothbrush, but Vash is undeterred.
“Was kind of hoping I could get ready for bed on my own, walk into the room and find you two making out. That’d be nice.” Vash sighs wistfully, looking off into the far distance as if imagining it, and Nai hates the way his cheeks begin to warm up all over again. He pointedly places the toothbrush in Vash’s hand until he gets with the program and half-heartedly begins brushing his teeth, still staring off.
After a that will have to do kind of cleaning, a discussion about if Vash wants to remove his prosthetic for the night (no), and helping him finish his nighttime routine, Nai sends him out of the bathroom and gets himself ready for bed.
He stares at his reflection a little too long, a little too hard, wondering just what awaits him in the bedroom.
There have been many nights where the three of them have shared a bed over the years, and though it’s been a long time since they last did, still, Nai shouldn’t feel like this.
It’s something akin to nerves, a notion Nai finds juvenile, that he’s nervous to share a bed with Nicholas again, but that doesn’t change the fact that that’s the most accurate descriptor he can think of to name the roiling sensation low in his stomach.
Maybe it’s anticipation, a small part of Nai’s mind supplies. He elects to ignore it.
Walking into the bedroom is, in a word, anticlimactic.
Instead of the heavy petting (at the very least) and making out he’d braced himself to walk in on, he finds Nicholas sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning with an arm against the headboard and nodding along to whatever nonsensical jargon Vash was muttering from where he was lying on his back, hands flying every which way with the story he was telling, Nicholas looking amused.
He glances up at Nai’s entering the room, and Vash, noting Nicholas’ attention shifting, props himself up on his elbows, smiling at him.
“Bathroom’s free.” Nai says with a lack of anything else to offer, and Nicholas stands, walking past Nai, but not before placing a hand on his hip, leaning close to press a slow kiss to his jaw, and Nai’s frozen in place, feeling his breath hitch when Nicholas’ low exhale cools the hint of wetness his lips had left on Nai’s skin.
“Thanks, angel.” He murmurs, his voice so incredibly low, and Nai shivers as he walks away, the bathroom door closing at the end of the hall.
“Fuck,” Vash says, eloquently, and Nai has to physically shake himself back into the moment, into the room, cheeks aflame.
Fuck is right.
It’s then that Nai takes in Vash’s nakedness. Where Nai had stripped him to his underwear before sending him off, it looks as if Vash had attempted to change into a clean pair of boxers, if the open dresser drawer was anything to go by, but gave up part way after taking the pair he had been wearing off. Now he’s lying on top of the sheets, legs parted just enough for Nai to catch a glimpse of the dusky pink between, amidst the dark blond of his pubic hair, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort for Nai to bring his gaze up to an appropriate level, noting the faint smirk Vash sported. Busted.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take your arm off before you go to sleep?” Nai asks, finally stepping completely into the room and towards the bed, stripping his tank top as he goes.
“It’s fine, really.” Vash flexes his metal fingers as if to confirm his own statement. “I’ll take a break from it tomorrow.” He says, and Nai takes a seat where Nicholas just was, reaching for the line of Vash’s bicep where flesh meets prosthetic, massaging it softly and looking for any signs of irritation.
“If it bothers you at all, wake me up, okay? I’ll help you take it off.” Nai says, thumb pressing to Vash’s skin in the way he knows feels good for him, if the way Vash exhales a deep, satisfied breath as he grows lax, dropping back against the mattress is any indication. “Don’t just deal with the pain. I know you.” Nai stresses when Vash opens his mouth to predictably protest, and it snaps shut with an audible click of his jaw.
He huffs from his nose, and Nai can’t help but exhale a breath of a laugh at the petulance of it, then does what he’s been aching to do since he did it last; taking ahold of Vash’s cheeks and leaning down to kiss him.
Vash tastes like mint, and Nai chases it, licking into his mouth and relishing in the low moan Vash gives for Nai to swallow, feeling Vash lift his flesh hand to curl into Nai’s hair.
Nai leans closer, shifting his leg up the mattress, about ready to lift it up and over Vash’s hips to straddle him when there’s a low wolf-whistle from the doorway, making him flinch and pull back with a soft, slick pop from Vash’s mouth, panting a little as he meets Nicholas’ dark, approving gaze from the doorway.
“Don’t stop on my account.” He says, and Nai can’t help but drop his gaze down the length of Nicholas’ body and up again, the man clad in nothing but a threadbare pair of grey boxer-briefs. On anyone else, Nai would find the garment and the state it’s in slobbish, but the way the thin fabric practically hugs his bulge, outlining the shape of his cock, and the way—at the right angle—the light practically shines right through the material, enough so that Nai can see his skin , is enough for him to think maybe, just this once, it’s not a bad style choice.
Not that he’d ever admit that aloud.
His attention is drawn back to Vash when the fingers still in his hair scratch idly at his scalp, and Nai looks back down at his twin, who’s biting his lip, bright blue eyes swallowed by black, pink flush high on his cheekbones, differing from the tipsy blush that’d slowly begun to fade with encroaching sobriety, and Nai exhales shakily in the face of his beauty.
“Do you want to…?” Vash asks in a whisper, just loud enough for Nai to hear, eyes flicking in the direction of the doorway—where Nicholas is—and back to Nai’s. “Or later?”
“Later,” Nai whispers back, stroking Vash’s cheek, pushing errant strands of hair back from his forehead. “You need rest.” Vash doesn’t argue, merely nodding, and Nai leans down to give him one last kiss before gently pulling back. “Goodnight, my love.” He says, reluctantly leaning away.
“‘Night, Nai.” Vash says, stroking his fingers through Nai’s hair once more before letting him go.
Standing on weak-kneed legs, Nai rounds the bed to his side, Nicholas watching, all the while.
“Come lay down, Nick,” Vash says, patting the centre of the mattress, and Nicholas walks over, one knee lifting onto the mattress before his other leg lifts to slip over Vash’s hips, straddling him not unlike Nai was about to for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to Vash’s lips just to hear him giggle at the affection, then rolling into the middle of the bed.
Lying flat on his back, arms folded beneath his head, the grey of his boxers somehow grows thinner, and Nai tries not to look, but in doing so manages to stare at his chest, instead; at his—as Vash would describe them—fluffy pecs, the trail of dark hair traveling down the expanse of his torso, thickening beneath his navel and down to where it disappears beneath—
And now Nai is staring at Nicholas’ dick again.
Forcing himself to look away by turning his back to them completely, Nai walks to the door and closes it, flicks off the light, letting his eyes adjust for a moment and hearing whispers behind him. When he glances over his shoulder, Vash is leaning over Nicholas, metal fingers trailing gentle patterns across his stomach, Nicholas grinning at something Vash had just said, nodding his head.
“Sounds good,” Nai catches Nicholas saying as he heads back over, ignoring his own curiosity in favour of removing his socks. Lifting his hands to his waistband, he hesitates only a moment, then strips his sweatpants and boxers off together, letting them fall in a silent heap to the carpet and stepping out of them, feeling Vash’s eyes on him.
That alone isn’t unusual, but there’s a weight to the stare that isn’t normally present and, upon turning to get into bed, meets Nicholas’ eyes in the dim of the room.
They’re not unlike pools of black in the dark, more intense than usual and focused solely on Nai.
Vash is staring, too, but it’s a familiar, comforting kind of stare, something Nai doesn’t feel the need to shy away from, and never has. But Nicholas, despite him having seen Nai naked before, on several occasions, Nai is woe to admit, his stare is enough for Nai to feel hot and cold all at once. It’s enough to make him feel small, which he rarely feels.
Enough for his cock to throb.
It’s enough for him to stare back, watch as Nicholas’ eyes travel across his body, pausing for a heady moment between his thighs before slowly beginning their ascent back up, until their eyes meet once more.
His lips are parted, like he’s so in awe he can’t bring himself to close his mouth, and it’s an expression that reminds Nai of how he looks at Vash, can’t begin to fathom that look being directed at him when Vash is right there—then realises, suddenly, he’s pulling the exact same face in that moment. While looking at Nicholas.
A quick glance at Vash confirms that he’s privy to the interaction, still touching Nicholas even with Nai unintentionally stealing his attention. Vash smiles, knowing , and all at once it’s all too much to handle.
Nai quickly twists, sits heavily on the edge of the mattress, and gathers his bearings.
The abrupt shift is evidently enough to bring Nicholas out of his reverie, because the whispering picks up again, closer to murmuring now that Nai’s close enough, picking up on every other word; the two chatting about nothing in particular, giving Nai his space. In a sense.
Their bed—now the only one in the apartment, aside from the sofa bed in the second-bedroom-turned-home office—is big, but with three grown, tall men, it gets squishy, to say the least.
Tugging pointedly at the covers until the other two get with the program and get under them, Nai tugs the sheet up to his shoulder, laying on his side, his back to Nicholas and Vash.
“That’s our cue,” Nicholas says, and Vash laughs. “‘Night, blondie.”
“‘Night.”
There’s some shifting, the rustling of sheets and slight bounce of the mattress as they move around to get comfy, Nai feeling Nicholas’ elbow brush against his back a couple times, the quilt lifting as he seemingly does some form of gymnastics to get into a good position—
Threadbare, grey boxer briefs fly over Nai’s head, over the bed and onto the floor, Nai’s half-closed eyes widening and Nicholas rolling over, first his arm slipping beneath Nai’s pillow, then…Nicholas’ front pressing flush to Nai’s back.
He can feel everything , from collarbone to thigh, pressed from nape to ass against him, and Nai momentarily forgets how to breathe.
“Relax, angel…” Nicholas murmurs against Nai’s ear, free hand slowly stroking down Nai’s side, firm enough as to not tickle, but gentle enough to make Nai shiver all the same, then gripping his hip. “Jus’ say the word and I’ll pull away…”
Nai considers it, he really does; considers elbowing Nicholas in the gut, pushing him back or, better yet, off the bed entirely, but…
Letting himself relax bit by bit, Nai steadily grows lax in Nicholas’ hold, feeling more than hearing the approving hum against him.
There’s already soft snores coming from the other side of the bed, and Nai marvels at Vash’s ability to fall asleep so quickly, staring at the wall and feeling Nicholas’ chest as he breathes, the way the odd, heavier exhale makes the shaven hair at the back of Nai’s neck prickle. They’re both awake a while longer, he can tell, just basking in each other’s warmth, and it’s something Nai has never really let himself have, with Nicholas.
His thumb strokes a circling pattern against the skin of Nai’s hip, slow and sensual, and Nai risks pushing his hips back, just a little, just to feel the way Nicholas presses against him. Even flaccid, he’s big—hot—and Nai exhales shakily, turning his cheek into the pillow.
He really needs to get some sleep. Before he does something he can’t come back from.
With that, Nai lifts a hand, taking ahold of the arm Nicholas has beneath his pillow and bringing it down enough to hug to his chest, pressing his lips minutely against his forearm, close to the crook of his elbow, and Nicholas’ fingers curl gently against him. Then, they both grow still.
Nicholas’ breath slowly begins to even out, to deepen, and Nai feels himself drift, too. He blinks sluggishly at the wall, each time his eyes opening less and less, until they remain closed, and sleep finally, blessedly, takes over.