Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Nick wakes up on the floor of some hotel room with a trash can, a note and some aspirin next to him. He rubs his aching head and sits up, only to lie back down again.

Fuck, he thinks, brain throbbing.

He reaches for the note and sees in cute, curly writing "take the aspirin before trying to be a person <3"

And then he reaches for his phone.

It's after 8AM, but not by much. He turns his phone to the dimmest he can before scrolling through his socials, making sure he didn't embarrass himself last night. He's got 4 texts, 3 from Livio asking where he is and if he's okay and telling him he and Raz left the party and they'd come get him if he needs a ride. The fourth text however…

It's from a contact in his phone titled "best head of my life ❣️ " which he knows he wouldn't have done himself. The text says this:

"sorry for the fuck and run, but i had an early morning. if it helps, i’m still high lmao"

Three dots appear underneath the text bubble. Suddenly, something comes in and it makes Nick snort a laugh that makes his head throb again.

"still thinking of that cock of yours, though. we definitely need to do that again"

Nick drops his phone as a wave of nausea hits him like a fucking truck. He closes his eyes and tries to will his stomach into submission, but the urge is too great. He sits up, reaches for the small trash can nearby, and retches.

Last night. What happened last night?

He remembers the Grammys. He remembers losing. He remembers going to one of the after parties. He remembers blonde hair and thin hips and a wicked smile. He remembers flirting. Drinking. Smoking a couple joints. He can remember hands on him, small and thin with long fingers, musicians fingers, and a sinful mouth with a pierced tongue.

But he can’t remember a name.

He’s still dressed so either his mysterious partner redressed him or he did - he’s not sure. He remembers making out. Remembers touching. Remembers their little laugh and then a mouth on his cock. He doesn’t remember cumming. Doesn’t remember what happened after. Oh god, what did he say??? Did he say anything at all??? He tends to get incredibly horny and talkative when he’s stoned, so this could be a career ender, for sure.

He reaches for his phone above his head and fumbles a little before he grabs it and brings it level to his face. He has an idea for a text, but it’s hardly risky or learning anything new about his mysterious partner.

“i feel like dogshit” he types.

Three dots.

“take the aspirin i left you and go have a greasy breakfast.” They type back.

“At the risk of sounding like an asshole,” Nick begins. “who is this?”

Three dots again and then a “hahaha” appears. “i really did suck your soul out your cock huh? ”

Three dots again, followed by: “how’s about i don’t tell you who i am. much more fun that way.”

Nick takes the aspirin dry and tries to sit up again. “But shouldn’t I know who gave me the “best head of my life”?”

“Probably.” They type back, “but. you’ll see me around. maybe. have a good day, nico.”

Nico does not, in fact, have a good day

He ends up lying on the floor until checkout, which is 11AM on the dot. He leaves a handful of bills on the bathroom counter after washing his face just for handling a trashcan full of vomit.

He stumbles down the stairs and into the diner across the street and has himself a greasy plate of eggs and potatoes and bacon and a beer to have a “hair of the dog that bit him” sort of breakfast, along with a cup of coffee. The waitress doesn’t even bat an eye, more of she looks like she’s trying not to laugh. It’s probably his bedhead. He futzes with his hair in the reflection from the window outside. It stays sticking up. He hates it.

He texts Livio asking for a ride and ends up with him sitting across from him twenty minutes later.

“You look like shit,” he says as he slides into the booth. Nick flips him off while chugging a cup of black coffee. “Did housekeeping kick you out?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he says. Livio starts eyeing his bacon. Nick pulls the plate closer to himself and builds himself a wall with creamer pods between them.

“You remember what happened last night?” Livio asks. “When we left Raz said you were pretty fucked up.”

“Then why’d you leave me there?” Nick asks, mouth full. He chews and swallows a mouthful of egg. “Woulda saved me some embarrassment.”

“No, what’s embarrassing is the amount of paps who are getting your photo in this diner.”

Nick flips one the bird right outside the window before smacking the glass with a ringed hand, metal clanking against the glass. The waitress hollers at him across the diner.

“Who is it?” Nick asks, leaning back against the seat cushion. He watches Livio carefully.

“Who's who?”

"The person in my phone that's calling themselves "The Best Head of My Life." Who is it?"

Livio cackles loudly, probably just to spite him. He winces at the sound.

"How am I supposed to know? I left before your ass."

“You didn't see me with someone?"

"I saw you getting handsy with some blonde, that's all I remember. I was pretty tanked too, if I'm honest. Elendira might be able to tell you - she has better eyes than I do and didn't drink nearly as much."

"That's because she doesn't drink. So she can babysit."

"Regardless!! She'll be able to tell you instead of me."

"So, it was some blonde. Guy? Girl? NB?"

"Guy, I think."

"Excellent," he says sarcastically. Nick isn't out to the world yet, but to his friends, and family, sure. (It’s never come up nor has it ever been an issue.) "That'll go over well."

"Welcome to being the new face of the lgbtq circle, man." Livio grins. "I'll let everyone know so we know to field questions about it during talking head stuff."

"Did you see who it was? The guy?" Nick has now moved onto his bacon. He's still guarding it with a creamer wall and a watchful eye on Livio, who has poured himself a cup of coffee in Nick’s' forgotten cup. He drinks from it with a complete look of nonchalance.

"I told you, I have no idea. He was cute though."

"I think he's been texting me."

"Oh yeah?"

"He's in my phone as "Best Head of My Life ❣️ " and he called me Nico. No one but you and Raz call me Nico."

"Maybe you told him to call you Nico. And of course he knows who you are - you're bassist for the band that was up for best rock album and album of the year. Our pictures have been everywhere."

"I would never tell anyone to call me Nico, not even drunk."

"Clearly he's special ‘cause he’s the Best Head of Your Life.” Nick throws a creamer pod at him. Livio gasps in mock outrage and tosses it back, hitting Nick square in the nose..

++++

Livio drives him home, still laughing at him. Nick still feels like shit. He slams the car door shut outside his house in order to retaliate against Livio but ends up hurting his head in the process.

He lives in a little bungalow looking house on the outside of town with just enough yard for his liking.

He can hear barking as he walks up the driveway, pulling out his keys and shoving his phone in his pocket. “Okay, okay, okay I’m sorry I’m sorry–” he says as he unlocks the screen door and then works on the deadbolt. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry–” the door opens and he’s jumped on by his two Australian shepherds, both white, black, and brown speckled. “Rhi, calm down – Sadie, oh thanks for peeing on the rug.”

Sadie barks up at him. He sighs and pushes into his house, walking immediately to the back door and letting them out. Both dogs rush past him to go outside into the yard to do their business. Nick turns back to the front door and sees Livio coming inside, checking his phone.

“Don’t step - pee,” Nick hollers, grabbing a bottle of cleaner and a rag. Livio steps around the piddle and beelines for the fridge.

“Elendira is picking out flowers today - can you believe there’s a place you can rent high-quality flowers from and send them back the next day?” Livio asks, digging for a beer, despite it being noon.

“In this town, yeah, I believe anything.” Nick says, scrubbing at the spot on the carpet. “Surprised she’s not upset you’re not there.”

“I have special permission to miss this one, given the circumstances,” Livio says, popping his beer cap off against the edge of the countertop. He takes a swig. “She’s worried about you.”

“In general or because of last night?”

“Kinda both?” Livio shrugs. “She wants you to find someone so the next album isn’t so angry.”

Nick looks up and balls the towel up in his hands. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. She thinks this past album was too angsty. She wants something more fun to sing.”

“That breakup got us a best album nom. She can go fuck herself.”

“Hey–”

“You heard me, Liv. I don’t care who she is to you - to me she’s a friend and a bandmate and I say she can go fuck herself or write her own damn album.”

Livio sighs a long suffering sigh.

“You know she only wants what’s best for you, right?”

“Not this again, Liv.”

“Fine. I’ll drop it. But be nice to her. She’s under a lot of stress planning the wedding.” Nick rolls his eyes. He finishes cleaning the rug and drops the rag in a bin in the kitchen to deal with later before he walks over to the back door and watches his girls play outside chasing a squirrel, barking.

“Sadie– Rhiannon, stop it!” At the sound of his voice, the dogs quiet, but then begin barking again at another squirrel. Nick shakes his head and turns back to Livio, arms crossed over his chest.

“What does she want me to do? Go out and date? Kinda hard to do when you have your picture everywhere.”

“Just try? I’m not asking you to find the Love of Your Life - but at least find someone to heal your broken heart. Ash wasn’t the perfect person you thought they were.”

“Obviously.” Nick scratches at his scruffy chin in thought, thinking about his most recent relationship of two and a half years. He sucks on his teeth and then makes a face, scratching at his stubbly chin. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Call the girls in before you leave, okay?”

“You got it, boss.”

++++

Brushing his teeth while his shower warms up, his phone pings. He reaches for it off the counter and opens it, finding a text from Best Head.

“how’s the head doing? and i don’t mean the little one ;)”

Nick rolls his eyes and tucks his toothbrush into his cheek.

“you’re really obsessed with my cock” he says back, “are you sure you don’t want to see it again?”

He spits and rinses and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. His phone pings again.

“ooh yeah send me a pic so i can look at it again.”

Nick: “are you kidding?”

“serious as a heart attack, my dude.”

Nick: “i’m not sending a dick pic to someone who won’t even tell me their name.”

“you had no problem using it last night,” they text back. “I can show you mine, you show me yours?”

Nick hops up on the sink, bare-assed. His mouth feels better since he brushed his teeth. He taps the side of his phone against his chin, legitimately weighing the pros and cons of sending a dick pic to someone he doesn’t really know. (Except, y’know, in the biblical sense, apparently).

“if you’re shy, i can go first,” Best Head buzzes. Nick sets his phone face down on the counter and walks over towards the shower. A minute passes as he considers. His phone buzzes again. He curses and walks over to it and unlocks it hastily.

It’s a photo from Best Head. He’s got the bottom hem of his t-shirt in his mouth, showing off his chest, revealing top surgery scars and a smooth, flat tummy covered in dark blonde hair past his bellybutton. The camera was held at an angle where all Nick sees is the curve of Best Head’s grin, down his half covered chest. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts low on his slim hips and showing off his happy trail to the hem of his boxer brief band and the v of his hips leading to between his thighs.

Which are covered. Fucking tease.

“your turn” Best Head says underneath.

Nick stares at his phone and then at himself in the fogging mirror. “Fucking hell-” he mutters before he flips the selfie camera on and takes a picture of himself, feeling utterly ridiculous. He futzes with his hair before taking another picture, liking this one better. His hair is tastefully in his eyes just a little, it’s most of his chest and arm. He resizes it to crop out any sort of cock, but he also leaves the base in the shot, just to tease a little.

Nick doesn’t work out besides cardio and playing bass every night, but he thinks he looks damn good in nothing but his cross necklace.

He bites his lip and hits send before he changes his mind. And then he jumps in the shower.

He gets several pings while he’s lathering up his face and hair, all within seconds of each other in rapid succession. He grins to himself and preens.

Best Head is hot, but he wants the ball in his court this time.

He finishes his shower, dries off, and checks his phone as he runs a towel through his hair.

“NICHOLAS”

“omg”

“god you’re so hot.”

“we definitely have to do last night again some time.”

Nick’s grin is practically glowing. He texts back: “tell me who this is and we can make it happen.” He heads down the stairs to find Livio gone and the dogs curled up on the couch watching something on youtube of relaxing music with dog photos. Livio calls it DogTube.

He checks his phone again. Nothing since his last text. They’d been texting pretty regularly before then and now, silence.

Maybe he got busy with something, he thinks. He hopes. If he did, he’d pray. But that hasn’t been the case for many, many months.

He crashes on the couch with both dogs curled around him, phone in his hand and no reply back to that one text.

He tries not to be disappointed.

++++

Next morning, Nick wakes up to a text from Best Head. “Good morning! Hope something good happens to you today! ❣️”

Nick texts back a, “you too,” before he clicks something on the television and begins his morning routine of letting the girls out, making coffee, checking socials, checking in on his adoptive mother, checking emails. He doesn’t obsess about Best Head, but he is in the back of his mind, tickling his brain with his presence.

++++

Nick has notebook upon notebook full of lyrics and a head full of songs.

He plays on his back porch, humming the lyrics he’s got written out in front of him in a Moleskine notebook, written in chicken scratch handwriting, surrounded by pen splotches from that one time that the pen broke and scratches through of lyrics he didn’t like.

His and Livio’s band, the Eye of Michael, have a particular sound. His lyrics and music with them is different than his music on his own.

If he had to choose which one he preferred to work on right now, it’d be his music. It’s lonely, sure, to write something alone and decide on how it should sound, but it’s also liberating to be the one making all the decisions.

He lights a cigarette, his first of the day, and revels in the burst of nicotine, in the taste of smoke. He opens his phone and hits record on another voice note and begins to play his guitar into it, recording the song in his head this morning.

He plays most of the day, until his fingers hurt and he’s almost out of cigarettes.

He doesn’t get one text from Best Head after the good morning text, but he does think about him and about the picture from last night.

He writes.

++++

He makes a phone call to his agent the next morning.

“I need to rent a studio or something for a while. Make a new album.”

Roberto’s smoking. He can hear him exhale smoke around the receiver. “I thought y’all were taking some time off for the wedding.”

“Not the band. Just me. I’d record in my home studio, but my computer crashed.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Send me something to listen to.”

“No way in hell, old man. You can hear it when it’s properly mixed.”

“Fuck you too, kid.”

++++

Weeks pass.

Still nothing about the identity of who Best Head is, though they’ve still been swapping texts and borderline sexting (Best Head always stops texting back right before Nick suggests it.) Nick is about ready to burst.

He’s watching tv absentmindedly one morning, drinking his coffee and having his morning cigarette when Livio comes barging into his house looking for food as he always does. He helps himself to a bowl of cereal and plops down on the couch next to Nick, crunching and bitching about Nick’s choice of cereal through Good Morning America.

Finally, the fluff pieces about how adopting animals is at an all time high, another interview is up next. Nick scrolls through his phone, ignoring it.

“Up next, a young singer/songwriter’s battle with cancer and how it inspired his own music as well as the Grammy Award Winning Album of the Year.”

Nick looks up from his phone and nearly drops it into his coffee. Livio points with his spoon excitedly. Sitting in a chair with a big smile on his face is Best Head. He’s blonde with a brunette undercut and is tall and gangly, sitting with his knees spread in a pair of black skinny jeans. He’s wearing a nice button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off one arm full of tattoos and another cybernetic one in a bright teal blue. He waves awkwardly at the audience and grins at the few screaming fans in the crowd.

“THAT’S HIM! THAT’S THE GUY!” Livio hollers, smacking the couch cushion next to him, nearly dropping his cereal. Nick has never hated commercials more. When the show comes back on, he’s standing up, pacing, smoking another cigarette.

That’s the guy. The guy he’s been sexting and texting and teasing and writing songs about for weeks and weeks. He’s on the television doing some in depth interview about - he missed the opening question he’s been so in his head - with Robin Roberts.

++++

“So, you had osteosarcoma,” Robin says, looking down at her cheat sheet cards. Vash smiles and nods, looking down at his hands.

“Yeah, I was in a band with some highschool friends,” he says. “And we’d been travelling around touring and I’d not been feeling too great, but I kept powering through until I finally couldn’t anymore and went to the doctor - practically had to be dragged to the doctor by my brother - and they said I had cancer in my arm,” he holds his cybernetic arm out and wiggles his fingers. “Lost the arm, so I don’t play guitar anymore, but I never stopped writing, y’know, I had to keep going. The mind was willing, but my body wasn’t.”

“How many albums worth of songs did you write while you were sick?”

Vash exhales and looks up in thought, a smile on his face. “On a whole? Maybe fifty? I was constantly writing. Constantly writing. Every ounce of pain, every bad day, every good day, when the words came, I wrote everything down. But I was also sick for a while, so that’s not too crazy.”

“And that’s what these albums coming out are about, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m actually putting out some of my favorites on a couple albums coming out soon. I’m actually gonna,” he grins at the crowd, “play my favorite one for y’all this morning, I’m very, very excited to share it with you and I’m very, very blessed to be here, Robin.”

“We can’t wait to hear it, Vash.”

It goes to commercial.

++++

Nick immediately fumbles for his phone and opens his texts. He pulls up the conversation with Best Head - Vash, apparently - and texts. “Got you, you little shit. You’re Vash Savarem aren’t you?”

Best Head doesn’t respond, as he’s currently on live television, but Nick watches with bated breath nonetheless. Livio is still crunching through his cereal and looking up Vash and the Stampede on his phone.

“He was in a pop-punk band from the early aughts before he got cancer,” Livio says with his mouth full. “Damn, he’s written for a loooot of people.” He holds out his phone to show the wikipedia page and scrolls through the list. “He wasn’t kidding about non-stop writing. Oh, found his instagram. He has a cat! Its name is Donut!”

The commercials end and Vash is sitting at a piano in the Good Morning America studio. He begins to play a mid-tempo song, both flesh fingers and metallic ones dancing over the keys. He looks ethereal when he plays, Nick thinks - but he might be biased.

“He’s good,” Livio says. “Shit, no wonder he won Album of the Year.”

“Ssh,” Nick hisses, transfixed. Livio goes silent, sinking back into the couch, watching Nick watch Vash. A smile crosses his face but he says nothing.

++++

About an hour after the Good Morning America segment airs, Nick’s phone buzzes.

“You got me,” Best Head - Now Vash says. “Surprise? Do I live up to your expectations?”

“Prove it's really you,” Nick types. “I’m not getting invested in a catfish.” Three dots appear before a laugh react shows up on his message. A second goes by before finally a picture graces his screen.

It’s Vash alright. He’s smiling a tired, but genuine smile, no teeth. He looks like he’s in the back of a car.

“Satisfied?” Vash asks. Nick finds himself smiling at the picture.

“Thank god you’re cute. If you weren’t there’d be no saving you for giving me the run-around.” Nick says back. Vash laugh reacts again.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were interested.”

“And if I was?” Nicholas types back before his brain catches up with his thumbs.

“Then that’d make two of us.”

A few moments pass when finally a website for a coffee shop pops up in the message. Vash texts a “2 o’clock good for you?”

“Today?” Nick types out while checking his watch. It’s quarter after noon.

“Unless you have other plans,” Vash says. Nick types out a reply before he drops his phone to his lap and looks at Livio who’s been watching him for this whole conversation.

“I’ve got plans this afternoon. You have to leave.”

“Oh? Plans with who?”

“You know who. Get out of my house.” Livio laughs and hops off the couch and heads to the kitchen to put his bowl in the sink. “The dishwasher is clean!” Nick hollers after him.

Livio makes a point to put the bowl in the sink.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay and pick out your outfit? Or go with you to make sure he’s not a serial killer?”

“Get out, Liv.”

“Fine, fine.”

++++

Nick obsesses over his clothes before he forces himself to leave before he changes his clothes for the third time. He's dressed in jeans, boots, and a black henley. He throws on a leather jacket and grabs his helmet, keys, wallet, and phone before he leaves probably earlier than he should.

Definitely too early.

He arrives at the coffee shop about 30 minutes early. He gets a coffee and sits in the back towards the window, splitting his time between watching outside and scrolling on his phone. He's about to start an AMA on twitter when a flutter of color outside catches his attention.

Hopping out of a black suv, wearing a bright red zip up hoodie and jeans, is Vash. He scans the windows as the car drives away, spots Nick and gives him a little wave. Nick lifts a hand in greeting before Vash comes into the little coffee shop.

“Hi!” Vash says, walking up. “Oh, you already have something - I was gonna pay.” He pouts, sticking his bottom lip out.

“You can get the next one,” Nick says, taking a sip of his coffee (black). Vash drops a bag at the table, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Sure. What is that, just coffee?” he asks, checking his watch absently as it buzzes against his wrist. Nick chokes on his next sip.

“I meant next time, not another cup,” he says through his coughs. Vash’s smile wrinkles his nose.

“There’s already going to be a next time?” he asks, hopefully.

Nick stops coughing long enough to cough out something that sounds like “If I survive today, yeah.”

Vash smiles at him. “I’m going to go get something. Do you want anything else? Cake pop? Pastry?”

“If you get something big enough to share, I might pick at it,” Nick says. Vash does the wrinkly nose smile again.

“Yeah, ‘kay.”

Vash hurries to the front of the coffee shop and places an order. Nick looks up from his phone long enough to see someone from across the shop approach Vash quietly. They ask him a question, which he nods to, and then he pats at his pockets for something. The barista behind the counter takes pity on him and hands him a sharpie, which Vash takes with a smile and a laugh. The fan must ask for Vash to sign their arm, because Vash looks confused for a moment before he finally crouches down a little bit and signs their arm at proper height. He then takes a selfie with the fan before handing the barista their pen back and getting his drink.

He walks back to the table carrying an overly large coffee cup topped with a huge dollop of whipped cream and a piece of cake. He sets everything down before he sits and licks at some whipped cream off his thumb.

“So,” he says.

“So,” Nick repeats. Vash reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cake pop. He offers it to Nick.

“I don’t share sweets,” he explains. “Plus, you can’t smoke in here so I figured you could use the stick. Feed your oral fixation.”

“Who told you I smoked?” Nick asks with a grin. Vash’s cheeks darken a smidge.

“Didn’t have to. You sent me a picture of your writing the other night and there was an ashtray with a lit cigarette in the background. Plus, I can smell it on you.”

“Do you dissect my pics?” Nick asks, futzing with the plastic wrapping on the cake pop, now highly aware of how he smells and how it’s been a hot minute since he had a cigarette.

“When it’s all I have to go on, yeah.” Vash swipes his finger through the whipped cream on his drink and brings it to his mouth, lewdly sucking on his finger.

“I figured someone who won album of the year would be busier than you are,” Nick says. Vash shrugs.

“All I did was write the music. Shelby is the one who wrote the lyrics and sang it all. Besides,” he lifts the drink to his lips and takes a sip, sighing heavenly after. “You texted me first, so I figured I owed it to you to pay attention.”

Shelby Taylor is the hottest Top 40 artist out at the moment. She’s got 2 albums out, both have won AOTY each time they’ve been up for it. It’s part of why Nick knew they weren’t going to win.

“Did you work on her first album?” he asks absently. Vash begins to cut into his cake.

“Yep,” he pops the word out of his mouth. “Wondering if she won or if I won?” he grins around his plastic fork. Nick finds himself grinning back.

“Technically, you both did,” he says. Vash hums in agreement.

“Yeah, but could she win on her own?” he muses. “Since she’s declared me her songwriter for as long as I’m writing, we’ll never know. And she’s a sweetheart, I’m not gonna say anything to the contrary.”

“I heard some of your stuff,” Nick says. “You’re good by yourself, too.”

“You listened to my stuff?” Vash asks, mouth full of cake. “Awww! Nico!”

“You didn’t look me up?” Nick asks, letting the Nico slide. Vash shrugs.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” he says noncommittally, looking up through his lashes over the rim of his coffee cup. Nick’s heart thumps heavily in his chest. God, he thought he was smitten before, but now–

“So, we did things out of order,” Nick says. “Normally, I’d like to get to know my partners before we fuck at some random Hollywood party.” Vash snorts.

“You go to enough parties to warrant a stance like that?” he asks. Nick shrugs.

“You know how the industry is.”

“That I do,” Vash agrees. “But I don’t go to a lot of parties where I have a stance about it.”

He knocks his ankle against Nick’s. If it was an accident, he doesn’t apologize. He keeps their ankles touching.

“So, cancer, huh?” Nick asks after a moment. Vash lets out a laugh that fills the empty coffee shop.

“What a segue!” he cackles. Nick’s cheeks and ears burn, but he holds his ground.

“It was that or start asking you what your opinion is about fucking in the bathroom.” Vash laughs harder before he nods.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, “Cancer. Osteosarcoma. Took my arm.” He holds up his mechanical arm, wiggling his fingers, like he did on tv that morning. “But they gave me this one as a replacement. Something something sciency where they have it connected to my nerves or something, I dunno. It was experimental. But I was gonna try anything in order to keep playing. It works! Most of the time. There are days when it really fucking hurts, but I just disconnect it and take it to the guy who gave it to me for a tune up and I’m just without for a couple days.”

“I get it,” Nick says, taking a bite of his cake pop. Chocolate fills his mouth. He hums around it. “I think I would’ve tried anything if my livelihood was taken away from me.” He takes another bite of the cake pop, finishing it off.

“So,” Vash props his chin on his fist. “Tell me about the album you’re working on.”

“Elendira and Livio, couple of my bandmates, are getting married, so they’ve been planning everything while we were on tour. So, after we toured, we all decided to go on a break while they finish their wedding plans. And I don’t want to stop writing and kinda wanted to try to do an album on my own with a different sound.”

“Sounds fun. I’m in, if you’re wondering.”

“You’re in?” Nick asks. His heart thuds a little harder. Vash takes another bite of his cake.

“I might have written something for you based on your current sound,” he says with a sheepish smile.

“So, you did look me up.” Nick is grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“Maybe,” Vash says, smile turning coy. He puts his fork down. “Do you have a studio booked?”

“Not yet,” Nick says. “My agent is looking into it.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll even produce, if you want.” Vash licks at some of the icing off his thumb. “Or I’ll at least keep you company.”

“When?” Nick asks. Vash checks his watch.

“Tomorrow?” he asks. “It’s getting late today and I’m still tired from this morning.”

“You can get a studio that fast?” Nick asks. Vash grins.

“I have my ways, Mr. Wolfwood.”

“You were great,” Nick says. “On GMA this morning, you were great.”

Vash blushes. “Thanks! I was really nervous about performing that song, but I decided to just go for it, y’know.” He fidgets with his fork. “If you’re serious about taking me up on my offer, I’ll play you some more stuff later.”

“I’d love that.”

Vash’s watch buzzes again. He sighs and reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out his phone.

“Sorry, work,” he says before snorting. “You know how it is.” He begins to type into his phone. “I told everyone I was busy this afternoon, ugh - “

“It’s okay,” Nick begins to say. Vash shakes his head.

“It’s not! I’m allowed a life outside of what Shelby Taylor wants. They want me to do some interview with her, and we go by her schedule.” Vash rolls his eyes before he takes a sip of his drink again. “I have to go. Unless–”

“Hm?”

“You wouldn’t want to come with, would you?” Vash asks. “I don’t drive, so I’ll have to wait for the ride Shelby sends for me– and I feel bad about bringing you here just to have our date be ruined by her poor timing and she’s really, really nice and a sweetheart, when her assistant isn’t ruining my life - do you wanna?”

“This is a date?” Nick asks. Vash blushes.

“Shut up. Do you want to come or not?”

“I don’t have plans,” Nick shrugs. “As long as you’re okay with me tagging along.”

“More than okay. Let me tell her where I am and that we’ll need a ride and –”

“Or, I can drive us,” Nick says. Vash blinks at him.

“Oh! Uh, sure! You don’t mind?”

“Vash-”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll get the address! Hang on,” he types something into his phone. A moment later, a buzz and Vash rolls his eyes again before texting the address to Nick’s phone. Nick looks it up on his maps.

“Of course it’s clear across town,”

“We get there when we get there,” Vash says with a smile and a shrug. “You know how traffic is in this city.” Nick stands from the table and grabs his jacket off the back of the seat. Vash looks him up and down and bites his lip. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he says. “A henley? Really? Were you trying to kill me before we had a proper date?” Nick looks down at his shirt and then back at Vash.

“What’s wrong with this shirt?” he asks. Vash shakes his head and stands as well.

“Absolutely nothing,” he says, eyes at Nick’s opened buttons at his throat. “I’m just mad I told myself I wasn’t allowed to fuck you on the first date.”

“Because that would be improper,” Nick says sarcastically. Vash grins a toothy grin before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Lead the way.”

They stop outside next to Nick’s motorcycle and Vash lets out another laugh, holding his face in his hands.

“Oh my GOD, you are a cliche!” he says into his hands. Nick grins.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks before handing the helmet to Vash. Vash takes it.

“Why don’t you hafta wear one?” he asks. Nick puts on a pair of sunglasses.

“Cause I said so. Put it on, blondie.”

Vash puts the helmet on. Nick climbs astride his bike, offering Vash a hand. Vash takes it and climbs on behind him. He wraps his arms tight around Nick’s middle. Nick places a hand on Vash’s hands.

“We haven’t started moving yet, blondie; you don’t have to hold on so tight.” Vash brushes his thumbs against Nick’s chest, unashamedly copping a feel.

“Oh, but I do,” he says, muffled by the helmet. Nick lets out a laugh and lights a cigarette before turning the key in the ignition. The bike rumbles to life. Vash’s arms tighten.

“Just hang on, okay?”

“Believe me, I will!”

The ride to Shelby Taylor’s mansion takes about as long as Vash figured it would, even with traffic. Luckily for him, Nick doesn’t weave in and out of traffic like most people do when they’re on their motorcycles. At one point, he pats at Vash’s hands around his middle while they’re stopped and turns his head so Vash can hear him.

“You okay there, blondie?” he asks, exhaling smoke. Vash lets out a laugh and squeezes tighter, nodding.

They arrive at the house and have to be buzzed in. Shelby’s voice comes through the radio with a tinny sound. She sings out a “Helloooo!” before pressing a button that opens the gate.

She greets them at the door with a smile and a wave. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a messy bun on the top of her head and she has just the barest amount of makeup on. She’s dressed in a pair of shorts and a cute dress top with spaghetti straps.

“Hiya!” she says. Vash hops off the motorcycle as soon as Nick parks, pulls the helmet off, and rushes over to Shelby, who pulls him in for a hug. They whisper for a few moments, both looking over at Nick a couple times before Shelby pulls away from Vash and turns to Nick, who’s just then getting off his bike.

“You’re him. The mysterious Nico I’ve heard so much about,” she says. He walks over to the two of them, looks between them, and offers her a hand.

“Yeah, I’m Nick,” he corrects. She takes his hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“I’m Shelby,” she says, as if he doesn’t already know - she’s the biggest pop star on the planet. “If I knew Vash was bringing you by, I woulda dressed up!” Her Southern accent comes out more than it does in her interviews. “Y’all come on before Meryl has an aneurysm.”

“Meryl Stryfe?” Vash asks hesitantly. Shelby nods.

“Did I not tell you?” she asks with fake surprise. Vash rushes into the house, calling out for Meryl, leaving Shelby and Nick in the entryway.

“Old bandmate,” Shelby says.

“I know,” Nick says. Shelby looks over at him.

“I hear I beat you for Album of the Year. Sorry about that. I really liked y’all’s album. Your singer has a killer range.”

Elendira hates Shelby Taylor. Nick fights back a grin.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to let her know you think that,” he says, imagining Elendira’s face when he tells her. “You listened to the album?”

Shelby opens her front door and leads him inside. “I listen to all the other albums to see what I’m up against,” she says. “Personally, I thought yours was really good. I listened to it twice. Especially after Vash–”

They’re interrupted by a loud shriek from deeper within the house and then loud, excited talking. Nick huffs out a laugh. Shelby rolls her eyes.

“He’s my best friend,” she says, “and he’s quite twitterpated with you.” She looks Nick up and down, “So don’t fuck this up.”

“I - “ Nick begins. She arches a perfectly sculpted brow at him. “Okay.”

“Didn’t expect a shovel talk on the first date, didja?” she asks. He shakes his head. She sticks her nose in the air.

“Well, I mean it. He’s been talkin’ ‘bout you for weeks. This might be y’all’s first official date, but he’s already written ‘bout y’all. A lot.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Nick says quietly. She smiles a genuine smile. It reaches her blue eyes.

“Good. Now, let’s go see what trouble they’re gettin’ up to.”

Shelby’s house is huge, obviously, and nicely decorated with shelves of her grammys and other awards she’s won. As they reach the back part of the house, it’s a little more homey looking, with old, worn furniture and softer lighting. The living room has tall ceilings and wide windows from floor to ceiling.

In the living room, Vash and Meryl are excitedly chattering back and forth. She has a camera around her neck and is showing him pictures on her phone. He is nodding and swiping through them, giving her feedback. The motorcycle helmet is on a chair, forgotten. When Shelby and Nick walk into the room, Meryl looks up from her phone and looks a little taken aback. “Who’s this?” she asks.

Meryl is a tiny little woman with short dark hair. She’s wearing jeans and a white waistcoat top and a pair of heels, making her barely come up to Vash’s shoulders. Her golden earrings sparkle in the lights of the room as she looks between the group of people she’s surrounded by.

“Oh, this is Nick, from Eye of Michael. He’s Vash’s date,” Shelby says with a proud smile before Vash can open his mouth. Meryl looks between the two of them.

“You brought a date to my interview?” she asks, arching a brow. Vash blushes.

“You called while we were out and he offered to drive and - “ Vash looks between Shelby and Meryl. “Is it okay?”

“I’m okay with it,” Shelby says, elbowing Nick in the stomach playfully. “He and I are on our way to becoming friends.” Nick pushes at her elbow just as playful.

“I guess,” Meryl says, narrowing her eyes. “Just stay quiet while I talk to them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nick says. Shelby leads him over to a chair before she joins Vash and Meryl in front of the couch.

“I got us some waters,” Shelby says. There’s a bucket of ice with fresh water bottles sitting on her glass coffee table.

If Shelby has a security detail or an assistant, they are out of sight. Nick leans forward to grab a water before he settles in for a while, playing on his phone. He starts an AMA on twitter, grinning when he gets questions about how he feels about losing the AOTY. If only his fans knew where he was currently.

Meryl asks lots of questions that Nick wouldn’t think to ask. She also asks a lot of questions about Vash’s new EPs coming out, and whether Shelby has heard them. Shelby is gracious in her answers, fawning over Vash as much as he fawns over her. They sit on the couch, practically in each other’s arms, giggling and laughing at inside jokes and each other’s answers.

If Nick didn’t know any better, he’d believe the tabloid rumors that they’re an item. Vash seems to have this effect on people - making them more comfortable than they would be with anyone else. At one point in the interview, he reaches over and touches Shelby’s face and comes away with an eyelash that’d been resting on her cheek. She laughs, closes her eyes, and blows it away.

If Nick wasn’t already falling for Vash, watching him with his friends would’ve done him in.

++++

After the interview, Meryl asks to take pictures of the two of them, Vash complaining about his helmet hair the whole time. They pose in several different ways before she is satisfied, saying they’ll get more professional photos later when they set up the shoot for the interview, as it won’t run for another couple months.

She then turns her attention to Nick, who’s finishing up his AMA. “So,” she begins. Her voice is clipped, sounding more like a protective mother than a friend.

“So,” Nick repeats. She purses her lips. From the couch, Vash and Shelby turn and look at Nick, looking expectant.

“This is a weird first date,” Meryl says. “Meeting the family already.”

“It was his idea,” Nick says, nodding at Vash. “Besides, I don’t mind.”

“We’ve been texting so much, it doesn’t feel like a first date,” Vash says, saving Nick from having to talk. Good. He could feel himself running out of words to describe them. There’s a reason he doesn’t do the talking heads for anything to do with EOM.

“How did you meet?” Meryl asks. Nick lifts his hips to shove his phone in his pocket.

“Grammy Afterparty,” he says. “Am I being interviewed next or is this all off the record?”

“Off the record,” Meryl says. She looks over at Vash, arched brow. “I thought you said you got smashed at that party.” Vash looks sheepish under her gaze.

“I was,” he says in a small voice. Meryl looks back at Nick.

“I trust that you were a perfect gentleman?”

Flashes of Vash and Nick in the bathroom of the hotel room, kissing hungrily, Vash’s hand down the front of Nick’s pants gripping his cock fill Nick’s mind. Must fill Vash’s, too because he suddenly becomes very pink. He stammers out, “Of course he was!”

“No word on whether Vash was, though,” Shelby says with a wicked smile. Meryl glares over at Vash. Vash sinks into the couch, clicking his tongue ring against his teeth.

“I have to go,” Meryl says, checking her watch. She looks at Vash, “We’re not done,” she says before she turns to Nick. “Neither are we.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vash squeaks. Shelby stands and offers to walk Meryl to the door, leaving Nick and Vash in the living room, alone. Vash stands and walks over to Nick. He reaches out and takes one of Nick’s hands in his and starts playing with his fingers.

“I hope that wasn’t too excruciating,” he says. Nick shrugs.

“It was fine,” he says. “You were cute.”

Vash’s cheeks darken further. He shrugs a shoulder.

“Work isn’t work when you work with your best friends,” he says before lowering his voice. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

Nick’s heart skips a beat at the tone in Vash’s voice. He stands up from his seat and crowds into Vash’s space.

“Lead the way,” he says again. Vash grins at him and leads him through Shelby’s house, hand in hand, stopping when they meet her at the door.

Shelby doesn’t look surprised when she sees them. She waggles her eyebrows at Vash and then turns to Nick.

“Treat him nice,” she says. “Or else.”

“Of course,” Nick says. She turns to Vash.

“Same to you,” she says, mouthing afterwards, “I like him!”. Nick snorts as Vash begins to stutter.

“BYE!” he hollers, tightening his grip on Nick’s hand and pulling him out the door.

++++

Vash gives Nick his address and they ride off, Vash’s arms tight around Nick’s middle. They arrive in a little bit of time - Vash lives further into the city than Shelby does and when Nick parks his bike and looks up at their destination, he pulls his sunglasses off and turns to look at Vash, who’s messing with his hair in the reflection of the helmet.

“You live here?” Nick asks. Vash looks up and then grins sheepishly at Nick.

“Yeah?” he says. “I know, it’s not a mansion or anything.”

“Just didn’t expect the winner of Album of the Year living in a second storey walkup,” Nick says. Vash shrugs.

“My brother and I were living together when money started coming in from my record deal, and then he went out on tour, so there wasn’t any reason to move while he was gone. I like it!” Vash defends. “It keeps me humble.”

A second passes before Nick finds himself with his arms full of Vash leaning into his space, resting the helmet on the bike seat. He looks at him with hooded eyes. “So,” he says in a deeper voice. “Did you wanna come up?” he asks.

Nick hates himself for what he says next. He shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” he says. “We didn’t even go on a proper date. Maybe next time.”

“Will there be a next time?” Vash asks, trying not to sound disappointed. Nick smiles and pulls Vash closer by his belt loops.

“I’d like one,” he says. Vash flutters his eyelashes.

“You’re right,” he sighs. “We should go on a proper date before I try to fuck your brains out. Again.”

Nick lets out a laugh before Vash brings a hand up to his cheek. He rubs his thumb across his stubble and smiles at him. Nick can see emotions he’d never admit to this early in Vash’s eyes.

“It’s crazy,” Vash says. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. That’s why I’m moving so fast, I -”

“It’s okay,” Nick says, brushing their foreheads together. “Me too.”

Vash leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Nick’s lips. He pulls back, licking his lips.

“So, tomorrow?” he asks. Nick shrugs.

“If your busy schedule will allow it,” he says. Vash rolls his eyes.

“I’ll get us a studio.”

“Still can’t believe you can get one at such short notice.”

“I have my ways, Mr. Wolfwood,” he repeats, leaning in for another chaste kiss.

Vash turns and looks at Nick a couple of times after he leaves, walking to the stairs to his apartment. Nick raises a hand in goodbye. Vash waves back. He goes into his apartment and shuts the door behind him.

Nick lights a cigarette and rests back lightly on the seat of the bike, smoking and thinking about the kisses from earlier.

He’s in trouble.

++++

Nick wakes up the next morning to another location text from Vash and a time. He starts getting ready as soon as he jumps out of bed, grabbing and packing up his guitar, his lyric notebook, and his other usual stuff. He dresses in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with a pair of chucks before he loads up his car and begins to drive to the studio.

He finds Vash standing outside when he arrives, dressed the same as yesterday but with big, circular, orange glasses on his face. He’s holding an energy drink in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. When Nick waves at him with the hand on the wheel, Vash’s face visibly lights up. He waves back with his elbow and rushes over to the driver’s side once Nick parks.

“Got you coffee,” he says.

“How long have you been standing out here?” Nick asks, taking the cup of coffee from Vash. Vash smiles and presses a kiss to the corner of Nick’s mouth.

“Maybe thirty minutes? I was listening to a podcast.” He gestures to his airpod in his ear. Nick takes a sip of the coffee and nearly moans.

“What is this and how do I marry it?” he asks. Vash laughs.

“Some fancy shit my brother keeps at the house,” he says. “I don’t drink coffee, so I just used his.”

“What did you drink yesterday?” Nick asks. Vash blinks up at him.

“Hot chocolate?” he says back, confused. Nick rolls his eyes and takes another sip of the Best Coffee he’s Ever Had.

“Studio, as promised. We can have it as long as you want. Do you need musicians? I can play just about anything except guitar, which you’ve got covered, so -”

“I was thinking more of an acoustic set,” Nick says, walking around to the trunk and grabbing his guitar and bag. Vash nods and takes a sip of his energy drink. “Did you sleep last night?” Nick asks, looking Vash up and down. He’s definitely wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

“I was pretty excited,” he explains, “And then I got into a groove writing, so I didn’t want to stop, but I’m good, I’ve got Mr. Monster here and he’ll take good care of me.”

Nick takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before locking his car with a tap of his hand on the driver’s side handle. The car locks with a beep.

“Is this a habit?” Nick asks. Vash shrugs.

“It’s fine! I’m fine! I’ll sleep tonight, no big deal.”

Nick huffs and follows him inside.

++++

The studio is deserted, which is a little weird for Nick since every other time he’s recorded anything he’s been busy with his bandmates and other bands recording. This place, Ship 3 Studios, has at least five recording booths, with suites attached and a bathroom down the hallway. The only person who’s here full time is named Doug, who runs the IT department. He also runs the scheduling department and the front desk. Vash speaks very highly of Doug, who blushes under the attention, hiding behind a pair of glasses that aren’t the right shape for his face. He offers to get Nick something to drink, which Nick waves the coffee around before whispering sweet nothings to it, and Vash rolls his eyes and they go to the studio they’ve rented for the day.

“So, what about Ships 1&2,” Nick says. Vash snorts a laugh and looks up from the control panel in front of him and shoves his hand into his bag reaching for his phone, a pen, and his notebook.

The notebook is just a composition notebook but it’s overstuffed with various sheets of paper, from what Nick can tell. Vash catches him looking at it and places a protective hand over it.

“My bible,” he says. “Part journal, part lyrics, all terrible.” He pats it lovingly. “This is volume 74.”

“Volume?”

“I told you, I put journal stuff and lyrics in them. They fill up quick when you’re doing double duty.”

“All I got is -“ Nick pulls his moleskine notebook out and a pen. It’s buckling from how full it is, but it’s got post its and other pages sticking out of it. He smiles and pets at it. “This is probably uh, volume 4 of this series. Everything else is loose in a box somewhere.”

“Do you always get moleskines or…?”

“Nah, I just got a pack of 3 off amazon,” he says. “survived falling off my bike and getting run over a few times so it wins for me.”

“I wanna hear what you have before we record anything,” Vash says. Nick opens his guitar case and pulls his guitar out.

“I can arrange that.”

“And,” Vash’s phone pings. “Do you mind if a friend comes and listens with me? She's a studio musician and could give me some extra pointers on some-“

“Invite her in, blondie. I don’t mind. Can I smoke in here?” Vash taps at his phone for a moment before there’s a knock at the door.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t, but if we need to pause while you smoke a morning cig, that’s fine.”

Nick looks up to see a very tall, cute, and chubby woman with a pair of overalls over a crop top. Her brown dreadlocks fall into her face as she bends over to fix her bright baby blue sock in her yellow crocs. She squeals and waves to Vash before they both hug.

“Nick, this is Milly, my other-other musical other half.”

“Hi!” she says in a cute voice. Nick waves.

“Hey, so I’m gonna - go smoke and then come back after the two of you’ve caught up,” Nick says, reaching into his bag for his packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Milly waves at him and turns to talk to Vash, spinning a chair around and sitting next to him. The two of them put their heads together and start talking and are already lost in their own little world by the time Nick leaves the room.

Nick smokes his cigarette and places an order for nicotine patches to be delivered at some point today. He walks back to the studio suite they’re in, and he overhears Vash and Milly talking.

“You didn’t sleep last night?” Milly sounds concerned. Vash slurps at his Monster.

“Yeah, I uh, I’ll call you when I know more, but I went back to the doctor the other day and they might have found something,” he says in a casual voice. Milly gasps.

“Oh, Vash! Honey! Why haven’t you told me this before now?”

“I’m telling you right now!”

Nick clears his throat and makes a bit of noise to have them pull apart. He’s obviously overheard something he wasn’t meant to hear. He walks over to his guitar and pulls the strap over his head and shoulders.

“Y’all okay?” he asks. Milly’s been watching Vash with worry in her brown eyes. Vash slurps at his Monster again.

“Fit as a fiddle,” Vash says with a dazzling smile. Nick finds himself smiling back. He strums a random chord on the guitar.

“Whenever you’re ready, we can start giving you some feedback,” Vash says. “Milly, I’m telling you, he’s good.”

“You’ve not heard me play,” Nick points out, exasperated. Vash’s smile softens and he does his nose-wrinkle smile.

“I just know you are,” he says. Nick rolls his eyes and opens his notebook and begins to flip through it.

++++

About an hour into Nick playing, Vash has them break so he can go to the toilet, leaving Milly and Nick alone. Milly looks much more relaxed than she did when they first started - whatever conversation Nick walked in on, she’s put it behind her.

“So far everything sounds really good, Mr. Nick!” she says with a smile. Nick shakes his head.

“Nah, just Nick,” he says. She shrugs and takes a sip from a big, plastic, orange water bottle covered in stickers.

“He’s really good at pretending he’s fine,” she says softly. Nick blinks at her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Vash. He’s really good at pretending he’s fine,” she repeats. “Don’t let him fool you. He’d rather pretend everything is fine than to make anyone worry about him.”

“Is that what I overheard you two talking about earlier?” Nick asks. She gives him a look.

“How much did you hear?” she asks. They can hear Vash coming back down the hallway, singing a little of the last song Nick played.

“Enough to know that the doctor’s might have found something,” Nick says. “Which may or may not be a bad thing, if they’re not calling him in right away, right?”

“They told Vash the same thing last time,” she says sadly. “And Nai had to literally carry him into the doctor’s office and practically sit on him in order to make him go through with the appointment.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Nick asks in a hurried whisper. Her smile turns sad.

“Because he likes you,” she says. “And I know you like him back. I know what this album of yours is about. And I want you to be prepared. We’ve all had time to get used to the idea of him not being around anymore before. You’re new to it. Get him to talk about it sooner than later and maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“Why me?”

“Cause for the first, first time, he might have something worth living for that’s not music.”

Vash comes into the room, new Monster energy drink in hand, this one a bright pink. He shows off the can to Milly. “No sugar, just in case you’re wondering and worried about my sugar intake, Mills.”

“Always worried about you, Vash.”

“Aw shucks,” he leans down and kisses her atop her head. “Anyways, Nick, how many tracks were you thinking for this album? Do you want to do an album or an EP or LP or–”

“I was thinking a full album,” Nick says, eyes not leaving Milly’s. She is pleading with her eyes at him. He nods a small, barely there nod. She beams.

“Okay, full album, so fifteen tracks max unless you wanted to put out more - most people stream their albums these days, so the more tracks keeps them listening to you longer. Is there a particular story you want to tell with the album?”

“It’s a love story,” Nick says after a brief moment of thought. He looks down at his notebook, at his more recent songs, singing about blue eyes and dimpled smiles and a bright, happy laugh, and he chuckles to himself. “Fuck it, yeah, it’s a love story.”

“And what do we as a society love more than a man with a guitar singing about love?” Vash wrinkle-nose grins again. “So I think the first five tracks you played are good enough for it, but we need an ‘all is lost’ moment, right so you can swoop back in and get the happily ever after everyone so badly wants, yeah?”

“I was thinking,” Nick says, watching Vash as he messes with a couple knobs and buttons on the control panel in front of him. “It just be an album of love songs, no need for any sort of strife. Something different than what I normally do.”

“Mm, do something unexpected,” Vash says. “I dig it. Mills, do you think you could help with certain sounds he might want? We’ve got guitar down, but he might want–”

Milly and Vash’s voices morph together as Nick focuses on everything he’s learned in the past few minutes. Something’s wrong with Vash, something big.

He never considered losing Vash as soon as he got him.

++++

After they plot out what songs are going to be on the album and what instruments Nick was hoping to include, they put everything on a gridded whiteboard with boxes that they can cross off when certain parts of the album are finished.

Milly agrees to help produce and to provide percussion. Vash agrees to play piano and do some background vocals if Nick doesn’t want to do his own backup singing like they can do in post.

Nick is just happy to have an idea of what he’s putting together. He watches Vash as he tips his glasses up to his hair to read something before dropping them back down to his nose.

God, he’s smitten.

++++

That Saturday finds Nick waking at his place, as per usual, but with a gut churning feeling in his everything.

Tonight is his ~Official First Date~, capitalized and squiggles added for effect, with Vash. He promised he’d cook something.

Nick isn’t a terrible cook - to the contrary - but he’s far from any sort of career change. He plans on making some sort of pasta dish - pasta’s easy. Pasta’s forgiving. Everyone loves pasta.

He obsesses over what to wear, whether or not his house is clean enough, whether he should have boarded the dogs for the night, what wine to serve that best goes with the dish, whether he should do chicken or steak, whether he should run out and get a haircut, whether he should shave. Whether he should - whether he should –

A text from Vash interrupts his spiraling. It’s a selfie of Vash sitting on his bed, aimed at a mirror, wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt and a pair of big, comfy socks. He has those ridiculous glasses back on his face and he’s sticking his tongue out and flashing a peace sign.

“Can’t find any clothes that look good enough,” his text beneath the selfie says, “So I can either show up naked or wear this.”

“What will the neighbors think?” Nick texts back, plopping on the couch. Rhiannon and Sadie look up from their snuggled nap in their large dogbed.

“Lucky guy?” Vash texts. “I swear this isn’t that difficult! I’m just seeing you again, it’s not like this one is any different from the other day.”

“Exactly,” Nick says, feeling himself relax at his own advice. “So wear what you want. I won’t care what you wear.”

“The floor won’t care either ;)” Vash responds. Nick laugh reacts and drops his phone to his lap and covers his face with his hands.

God, he’s going to be the death of him.

Around six thirty, a knock sounds from the front door. Nick is in the process of checking the marinade on the steak, when the knocking gets louder and more frantic. Rhiannon and Sadie are up, barking and yelping at the front door. Nick throws a towel over his shoulder and walks to the front door, calling to them to stop barking.

Through the glass screen door, Nick can see Vash. He’s in an oversized red sweater with a black tanktop underneath, as well as a pair of black skinny jeans with holes in the knees. A pair of well loved and worn in chucks adorn his feet and a black beanie covers the back of his head. He’s bent over at the door, whispering and cooing at Rhiannon and Sadie. Once Nick reaches the door, Vash smiles and stands up.

“You have dogs!” he hollers through the door and their barking. Nick hesitates.

“Is that a problem?” he hollers back, quickly. “I can put them up, if you’d prefer - “

“No! No! It’s okay!” Vash says as Nick gestures at the door while he holds Sadie and Rhiannon’s collars back. “I only have a cat, so I forget people have bigger pets than I do. Goodness they’re so cute! Hi!” He opens the door and walks into the house, laughing as the two dogs try to jump up on him.

“This is Sadie,” Nick introduces, pointing to the lighter blonde of the two, “And this is Rhiannon.”

“Solid music names,” Vash says, bending down for pets. “This,” he says as he pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and holds up his phone homescreen. “This is Donut.” It’s a picture of an orange and brown tabby cat, rolled over to show its belly. “Donut is my pride and joy and my son. I birthed him.”

“I see the resemblance,” Nick says with a sage nod. Vash laughs and playfully smacks him on the arm.

“Oh! I um,” he reaches into his ever-present messenger bag and pulls out a six pack of nearly crushed cupcakes. He winces at their state before smiling at Nick. “I brought dessert,” he says. “Or, I attempted to.”

“They’re fine,” Nick says, taking the squished plastic container. “It’s not like our stomachs will know how they looked.”

Vash’s cheeks darken. He crowds into Nick’s space right in the entryway, resting a hand on Nick’s shoulder, the other arm wrapping around his waist. “Hi,” Vash says, looking Nick’s face up and down before leaning in for a kiss. Nick meets him halfway, expecting chaste and getting Vash’s lips slotted between his. They stand in the foyer, both dogs sniffing at Vash’s shoes and pants, kissing. Nick wraps an arm around Vash’s thin waist and pulls him in closer, opening his mouth for Vash’s tongue.

They pull away at the sound of a timer going off in the kitchen. Vash jumps back like he’s been shot at. Nick rights him with a steadying hand.

“Can I take your bag?” he asks. “Or if you want to find a place to stash it -”

“I’ll find a corner that’ll be mine. Do you do shoes in the house or not?”

Nick looks down at his own socked feet and then back up at Vash as he turns the timer off. “Typically no, but I get being a stranger in someone else’s house wearing no shoes.”

“If I take them off will they survive?” Vash asks, eyeing Rhiannon and Sadie, who have decided whatever their daddy is doing in the kitchen is much more exciting. Nick snorts.

“Fair question. Put them up on the top of the piano,” he says. “Sadie’s a nervous chewer.”

Nick continues to futz with dinner before he hears the cover of the piano keys lift up and the bench slide out. He grins to himself as Vash begins to play chord after chord.

“It’s probably out of tune!” he calls out. Vash hits a discordant note and lets out a cackle.

“That would be an understatement, babe!” he calls back. “Yeah, we’ll have to fix this if I spend any quality time here.”

Nick walks over to the doorway to the piano room and leans against the doorjamb, watching as Vash continues to worry over the piano, running a finger over the top of it to see if there’s any dust. Sadie and Rhiannon come and join Vash in the piano room, which makes Vash very happy indeed. He crouches down and offers out a hand. “Paw?” he asks Sadie, who gives him a paw back. He giggles to himself before turning to Rhiannon and asking the same thing. She blinks up at him with big, brown, confused eyes. “We’ll work on it, kid. You’re gonna be a star!”

Nick can’t believe how lucky he is to have found Vash - he’s definitely a little more than smitten. His stomach churns, warm.

Nick brings him into the kitchen where he’s working on dinner, and allows him to hop up onto the countertop, feet kicking out against the cabinets below.

They talk about nothing in particular while Nick continues to make dinner, stopping only when he remembers to (after the fact) to offer Vash something to drink.

++++

After dinner, they’re sitting on the couch with their dishes sitting on the coffee table. Nick is just about to get up and take dishes to the kitchen and ask after dessert, but first he’s checking his phone cause he swore he heard it buzz and he finds himself with a lap full of Vash.

“Hi,” he says, dropping his phone to the cushion beside him. Vash smiles at him and pushes their noses together.

“Hi,” he says back. “I was thinking…”

“Hm?”

“About dessert,” Vash continues. “What if it was me instead?”

Nick blinks at him before grinning up at him. Vash lets out a laugh and covers his face with his hands. “I knew that was a bad line, I should’ve listened to my gut and not listened to Shelby, but she insisted I should say it so I was planning on seducing you and trying it and –”

Nick grabs at Vash’s wrists and pulls them away from his face. “So, what are you supposed to do if it works?” he asks. Vash reaches up and grabs the hat off the back of his head and tosses it to the couch cushion he used to occupy.

“That didn’t take very much seducing,” he teases. Nick leans in for a kiss.

“You’ve already had me; no seduction required.”

They meet in the middle for a kiss. Vash wraps his arms around Nick’s neck, settling deep into Nick’s lap.

“I’m,” Vash begins as Nick begins to nibble on his jaw and up to his ear, sucking on his earring. “Nick, I need to tell you -”

“Hm?” Nick hums, pulling away. Vash is noticeably pinker in the face.

“I’m tr-”

“I don’t care,” Nick says, “Just tell me what does and what doesn’t feel good, okay, angel?” Vash surges forward and presses their mouths together again, rising up to his knees to stand above Nick on the couch, tipping Nick’s head back against the back cushion. Hands fly to Vash’s hips, into Nick’s hair, tongues brush and tangle. When Vash finally pulls them apart, he breathes heavily into Nick’s face, brushing a hand over his stubbly cheek.

“Darling, I don’t mean to alarm you,” Vash says in a whisper, pressing kisses to Nick’s mouth. “But I believe we have an audience.”

Nick blinks up at Vash, confused, before he looks down and around to see Rhiannon and Sadie watching them from their dog bed. He lets out a surprised laugh.

“Upstairs?” Vash asks, pressing another kiss to Nick’s mouth. Nick nods and presses another kiss as well.

“You head on up, I’ll be there in a minute. I’m going to lock everything up down here.”

Vash hops off of him and walks over towards his bag he left in an armchair off to the side. He grabs his bag and walks through the house towards the stairs.

“Second door on the left,” Nick says as he takes their plates to the kitchen. Vash takes the stairs two at a time.

When Nick is done feeding and watering the dogs, he locks the house down and puts up a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs. He then steps over it and walks up the stairs.

He doesn’t find Vash in his bedroom, but in his office. He’s pantless and has taken that red sweater off, standing in just a black tanktop and a pair of panties. He’s looking at photos on Nick’s wall, smiling over at him when he sees Nick joining him.

“Who’re these fine folks?” Vash asks, gesturing to a photo. Nick comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Vash, pulling him back to his chest.

“That,” he begins, “is the Hopeland Orphanage. Where I grew up.” He presses a kiss to Vash’s hairline. Vash leans into Nick, pressing his temple to Nick’s cheek.

“An orphan, huh,” Vash says. Nick nods.

“Got a problem with that?” he asks. Vash shakes his head and turns in Nick’s arms.

“Of course not,” he says. “Just trying to see who all I’ll get a shovel talk from,” he jokes. Nick takes Vash’s hands.

“Well, there’s Elendira and Liv, who might be first in line to both meet you and to take you down. There’s Raz, but he’d mostly want to make sure you’re a good lay. Then there’s my foster mom, a no nonsense woman named Melanie who could kick your ass forwards and backwards if you ever thought about breaking my heart, as well as eleven of her current fosters. They all think I hung the moon. So be gentle with me.”

Vash opens his mouth to say something, hands on both of Nick’s cheeks. He smiles instead. “I promise I will,” he says. “And if you couldn’t tell, I think you hung the moon, too.” He leans in and presses another kiss to Nick’s mouth.

They kiss in Nick’s office for a few kisses or three before Nick pulls away and leads Vash to his bedroom. He turns on a side lamp and sees Vash has already claimed a side of the bed, his bag and clothes sitting on a chair on that side. He opens his mouth to say something about how much he loves seeing Vash’s stuff, including Vash, in his room, when he turns to look at Vash, who’s crawling on the bed, settling in the middle, knees bent, arms spread wide over the pillows.

“I was going to tell you how much I loved seeing you and your stuff in my room, but I think I like the sight of you in my bed even more,” Nick says, pulling his shirt off over his head by the back collar. He drops it to the floor as well as he unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall to the floor, belt and all. He bends over to take off his socks and looks up at Vash, who’s teasing himself between his legs over his underwear.

“Yeah, baby?” Nick asks in a quiet voice. He walks forward towards the bed and crawls onto it, sliding right up against Vash’s side. Vash whimpers, dragging his fingertips against his clothed folds, darkening his underwear with his slick. “Do you want me to touch you like that?” Nick’s voice is deeper than normal, dripping with lust. Vash looks up at Nick and nods. When Nick replaces Vash’s hand with his own teasing one, Vash reaches up and pulls Nick into a kiss, a kiss that’s all tongue.

“Nick,” he whimpers, pulling away, tongues connected by a trail of spit. Nick wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “You have no idea,” he whispers. “How long I’ve wanted –”

Nick presses a kiss to Vash’s forehead. “I think I have an idea,” he says back. “Can I touch you or do you want me to keep teasing you?”

“I–”

Nick continues dragging his fingertips up and down over Vash’s soaking wet underwear. He teases the sides with his third finger, as if he were to pull the panties to the side to reach his prize. Vash whimpers, wiggling against Nick’s hand, both wanting him to move along and touch him and to continue teasing.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Nick says, pulling his hand away, making Vash look like he’s about to cry. Nick pushes himself to his knees and cages Vash back against the mattress. “I don’t think I can tease you as much as you want - not tonight.”

He crawls atop Vash, pressing kiss after kiss to his mouth, his jaw, up his throat, up behind his ear, sucking on his earlobe. He kisses and sucks down Vash’s throat til he reaches the hem of the tank top and he pulls at it.

“Can I?” he asks. Vash nods emphatically before he sits up enough to pull it up and off. It flies somewhere across the room.

Vash is just as small as Nick thought he was, save for how tall he is. He’s got twin scars beneath his pecs and a short scar close to the right side of his collarbone. Nick presses a kiss to it.

“What happened?” he asks. Vash looks down and then blushes.

“Chemo port,” he says. “From, y’know.”

Nick leans back in and presses another kiss to Vash’s mouth, hands sliding down his flanks, stopping when he has a handful of flesh to knead, at his pecs, petting across his sides. “You’re so beautiful,” he says into Vash’s mouth. Vash snorts a laugh and shakes his head.

“Believe me, Nico, you’re the beautiful one,” he brings his hands, both flesh and cybernetic, up to cup at Nick’s tits. “God, these tits have been teasing me every day since I met you. You have no idea what a henley does to a man, do you? I get weak at the knees, Nick.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring,” Nick says. His cross necklace swings between them. Vash wraps a hand around it and pulls Nick down by it.

“I wasn’t exactly being subtle,” he says, pulling their mouths together. Nick hums into their kiss before he continues kissing down Vash’s throat, down his chest, pressing lingering kisses to each of his pierced nipples, sucking the barbells into his mouth, nipping around the metal with his teeth, making Vash moan and watch as Nick crawls down his body, down, down, down…

He’s face to face with Vash’s soaked, covered pussy. He looks up at Vash briefly before he grabs at the sides of Vash’s underwear, and begins to pull them down off Vash’s hips. Vash lifts his hips for easier access, before he spreads his legs.

Vash’s pussy is flushed and pink and so, so wet. His tiny little cock is straining under its hood, flushed an enticing red, under a thatch of blonde hair. Nick whistles at it before pressing a kiss to Vash’s inner thigh. Vash fights the urge to close his legs, hands covering his face.

“Stop staring!” he says, pushing at Nick’s forehead. Nick grins up at him and feigns innocence.

“Just admiring you,” he says. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“Not like that!” Vash says.

Nick scoots up so his face is right above Vash’s dripping pussy. He leans down and presses a kiss to his throbbing cock, making Vash whimper and clutch at the pillows around his head.

“How else am I supposed to look at you?” Nick asks before sucking at Vash’s little cock. Vash whimpers again. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.”

Vash brings a hand down to run through Nick’s hair, silently urging him on. Nick brings a hand up to spread Vash’s folds apart, revealing his shiny, dripping cunt. He brings his mouth to Vash’s folds and licks from hole to his cock with the flat of his tongue. Vash keens, hand tightening in Nick’s hair.

“So worked up, huh, baby?” Nick asks, slurping at either side of his folds, sucking skin into his mouth. “Been thinking about this, have you?”

Vash nods, whining. “All I keep thinking about,” he admits. “God, your mouth.”

“We’re just getting started, baby. I can go all night.”

And with that, he buries his face into Vash’s cunt and begins to tongue fuck him, taking brief detours up to suckle at his cock, when he’s not rubbing at it with the bridge of his nose.

Vash is all but screaming into his cybernetic hand, his flesh one tight in Nick’s hair as he eats him out. He rocks his hips up into Nick’s face, fucking his mouth with his tiny cock, wanting Nick’s tongue to delve inside his leaking cunt as much as it can. He nearly yelps when Nick lifts him off the bed to have a better angle, tongue fucking his cunt faster and faster. Vash’s upper back and neck are still on the mattress as Nick pulls his legs up over his shoulders, burying his face back between Vash’s thighs.

“Nick!” Vash calls out, “Oh my god, Nick, I–”

Nick hums into his cunt. Vash whines again.

“More, more - I need -”

He’s lowered back to the mattress with Nick wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. Vash pulls him up towards his head by his cross necklace and presses a lingering, searching kiss to his mouth, tongue exploring the inside of his mouth for his taste.

“What do you want, baby?” Nick asks when they pull away. Vash hasn’t cum yet, but he’s close.

“Fingers - and your mouth,” Vash says. “Wanna cum on your face.”

“God, you’re a squirter, aren’t you?”

“Wanna cum all over your face,” Vash repeats. Nick presses hasty kisses to Vash’s mouth before he settles back between Vash’s thighs. He brings a hand up to rub at Vash’s folds again, slipping two fingers between them, right against his hole. With little resistance, he slides his fingers into Vash’s cunt.

Vash moans at the intrusion, back arching. He scrabbles his hands against the bedsheets, looking for something to hang onto as Nick begins to thrust his thick fingers in and out. He lowers his mouth back to Vash’s cock and sucks it between his lips.

Vash moans long and low, especially when Nick finds that one spot. He then shrieks as Nick begins to rub at it, that spongy ridge inside of Vash. Vash thrusts against his hand and into his mouth, a hand coming up to tangle into Nick’s hair.

“NICK!” he shouts. “NICK!”

Nick continues his pace until finally, finally, Vash delivers, and squirts all over Nick’s face.

Nick drinks as much of it down as he can, wiping at his face after a brief silence other than Vash’s labored panting and whimpering, as he shakes in the aftershocks.

“Nick,” he breathes, “Nico - “

Nick climbs up the bed and scoops Vash into his arms. Vash rests boneless against his chest. “Got you good, didn’t I, blondie?”

Vash pulls him down by the back of the neck for a kiss, searching his mouth for his taste again. He brings Nick’s soiled hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean. Nick kisses his open, panting mouth.

“Your turn,” Vash says. Nick shakes his head.

“No, baby, it’s okay.”

Vash shakes his head too and musters as much strength as he can after an earth-shattering orgasm as he had, and pushes Nick back onto the bed, careful not to have him sit in the wet spot.

“Condoms?” Vash asks sleepily. Nick reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a roll of condoms. Vash takes it, rips one off, tosses the rest of the roll aside, and tears it open with his teeth before he crawls down the bed, pulling at Nick’s boxers. Nick lifts his hips to rid himself of them. Vash tosses them somewhere. He smiles at Nick’s cock and whistles. “God, I forgot how beautiful you are,” he says, reaching out a hand to fist his cock. He gives it a couple of pumps before he rolls the condom on.

He climbs astride Nick and begins to lower himself down onto his cock, slowly sliding home. He moans as he fills him up. “Full,” Vash moans. “So fucking big, babe–”

“Mm,” Nick hums, hands clutching at Vash’s hips hard enough to bruise. Vash gets used to the feeling of Nick inside him before he begins to writhe in his lap slowly, building up a slow rhythm, smiling sleepily down at him.

“This okay?” he asks in a whisper. Nick nods, hands clutching open and closed on Vash’s hips. “I like slow and deep after I’ve cum.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me,” Nick says. “Christ, you feel so good.”

“Mm, you too.”

They begin to pant in unison as Vash maintains his pace, rocking onto Nick’s cock slow and deep, just like how he likes it. He takes Nick’s hands from his hips and brings them up against the headboard, holding onto his hands tight over Nick’s head as he leans in for a kiss.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” Vash whines. “I - “

“You can cum, baby. Cum for me again, beautiful.”

Vash reaches a hand down to rub at his cock in slow circles, matching his pace. He begins to moan long and low again, leaning down to moan into Nick’s mouth.

He cums around Nick, tightening around his cock. Nick winces beneath him.

Vash rests his forehead against Nick’s as he comes down, breathing heavily in his face. “Use me,” he whispers. “Nick, use me.”

Nick doesn’t need to be told twice. He flips them, so he’s on his knees with Vash pulled back to his front. He slowly pushes back into Vash’s cunt and begins a quick rhythm, pounding into Vash from behind.

Vash whimpers, a hand reaching up behind Nick and hanging onto the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. Nick presses kisses to the back of Vash’s neck and his shoulder, sucking hickeys to his skin.

“So fucking tight around me, gonna squeeze me to death,” Nick says into Vash’s ear. “So fucking hot around me, baby. Perfectly made for me, right, baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” Vash nods, panting through his mouth, turning his head to try and kiss Nick. Nick breathes into Vash’s mouth, their lips lingering together but not touching.

“Gonna ruin you the way you ruined me,” he continues. “Been thinking of that mouth of yours since that stupid fucking party. Been thinking of that pussy of yours since your first dick pic.”

“Yours,” Vash corrects. “All yours if you want it.”

“Oh, but I do,” Nick licks up the side of Vash’s neck and bites, making Vash call out. “Want you in any way you’ll let me, baby. I’m,” he grunts, close. “I’m all in.”

Vash moans.

“You got one more in you, baby?” Nick asks in a filthy voice. He brings a hand down to Vash’s red, abused cock. He begins to rub his hand across the little nub in fast swipes. Vash’s hand in Nick’s hair tightens.

“Nico–”

“Cum for me again, Vash,” Nick says into his ear, biting at the lobe, sucking at his earring. “Cum with me.”

Vash continues letting out little ah, ah, ah’s as Nick begins to thrust faster and faster, hand speeding up around Vash’s cock. Finally, Vash begins to tighten around him and he begins to tighten in Nick’s arms, arching his back into Nick’s hold.

Vash cums again, for a third time that night, with Nick following close behind.

They come down, panting. Vash falls boneless in Nick’s arms, resting his head back against Nick’s shoulder. Nick pulls out and holds Vash in his arms before lowering him into the bed. Once he’s caught his breath, he gets up and ties off the condom, throwing it away in the bathroom waste bin. He grabs a washcloth and walks back to the bed, smiling when he sees Vash dazed, smiling up at him.

“You made me cum three times,” he says sleepily. “Not bad for a first time.”

“You think?” Nick asks. He begins to wipe at Vash’s thighs, cleaning him up from his own slick. Vash lets him, spreading his legs and hissing when Nick rubs the cloth over his over-sensitive cock.

Nick tosses the washcloth somewhere in the room before he crawls into bed and pulls Vash into his arms.

Vash sleepily snuggles his chest, “I amend my original statement - you fucked my brains out.”

Nick presses a kiss to Vash’s beauty mark under his eye. “You’re welcome, baby,” he whispers. Vash hums, eyes falling shut.

“Nico,” he slurs. “Don’t let me forget. I have something to tell you.”

Nick hugs Vash tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his golden head. He already has an idea of what Vash has to talk about.

But for now, sleep overtakes them both.