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Vash is speechless when he sees Wolfwood walk into the costume party in a skirt. He knew it was coming. Sort of; afterall, Wolfwood lost a bet, but he wasn’t supposed to look so hot . He’s dressed in his usual leather jacket and tight white t-shirt, only, instead of jeans, he’s wearing a pleated skirt in purple and black plaid that ends mid thigh. They had never agreed on a length, an oversight on Vash’s part, he realizes, but Wolfwood could have worn a skirt that went to the floor.
Yet.
He didn’t, and to top it all off, he accessorized with a pair of black, thigh-high stockings. Wolfwood still looks like his cool, calm, and collected self, cigarette pinched between his lips as he peers around the room above his sunglasses. When he spots Vash he raises an arm and waves, winking at him as he gives his hips a tantalizing shake. The skirt moves enough to make it clear there are no shorts or boxers underneath.
Rolling his eyes, Vash looks away, biting back a stubborn smile. He tries not to let Wolfwood’s brazenness flatter him too much. He also tries not to let his jealousy get the best of him. Of course Wolfwood’s choice of outfit only gains him more favour judging by the supportive hoots and whistles that reverberate through the crowd of partying peers. Vash doesn’t blame them. Wolfwood looks… well… amazing. Tempting. Beautiful. Everything Vash can never have.
The sobering thoughts quell the sharp swell of Vash's affection for Wolfwood. As much as he wants his attention, he's long lost that privilege. Sighing, Vash begins to wander around.
Elendira’s tenth floor condominium is a large two story deal with balcony access and a fire escape. Floor to ceiling windows give the main seating area a 190 degree view of the city skyline. The home itself features modern glass furniture for desks and tables while the walls are decorated with many mirrors and countless reflective surfaces. The entire condo feels sterile and far too pristine with its cold, unwelcoming furnishing. Vash is only here to see that Wolfwood fulfills his part of their bet, and doesn’t plan on sticking around.
Wandering into the kitchen, Vash weaves through the crowds of people drinking, eating, and talking. Ideally, he’d like to avoid Wolfwood, not wanting to be forced to admit just how fantastic he looks in a skirt for a bet he lost. Vash is the one who feels like a loser now. After ducking around a particularly rambunctious group of people, Vash snatches up a half-empty bottle of wine, chugging it down as he shoves his way onto the balcony. The night time air is crisp and cool ten stories in the air. Vash takes a deep breath of the refreshing breeze, letting it cool his heated thoughts of thick, hairy thighs, and bulging muscles. His thoughts of Wolfwood.
“Stupid, sexy Wolfwood,” Vash grumbles to himself as he leans against the railing.
“What was that about Wolfwood? ” An all too familiar voice asks from behind.
A moment later the man in question comes sauntering up to stand next to Vash. He smells as good as he looks with the cigarette in his fingers.
“I said, stupid, smelly Wolfwood. You reek from a mile away!” Vash lies dramatically as he waves his hand in front of his face while holding his nose.
“You're a shitty liar, Needle Noggin,” Wolfwood teases before taking a drag of his smoke.
Vash watches slightly open-mouthed as Wolfwood puckers his lips around the slim paper cylinder and sucks.
Too invested in the vision, Vash doesn't see what's coming next until Wolfwood is blowing a puff of smoke into his face.
“Hey! That's rude,” Vash exclaims, shoving his shoulder into Wolfwood’s.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer. I'll even pose.”
Wolfwood steps back from the railing to stand in a dramatic position as though he's aiming a gigantic, person-sized gun. His legs spread apart and the skirt rides up to reveal more tantalizingly bare skin. For how high up the skirt has come, there's a noticeable lack of any of the underwear Vash knows Wolfwood wears. At the same time, Wolfwood's t-shirt rises with his leather jacket, showing a wider strip of tanned muscle. It's so dizzying, Vash forgets himself again for a moment.
“As if I would ever want a picture of you,” Vash finally snorts, forcing himself to look away.
They've been doing this infuriating dance for months now. The back and forth teasing and flirting as they tip toe around what they really want.
“Your loss, Blondie,” Wolfwood laughs as he straightens up and adjusts his clothes before resuming smoking.
“I do recall this being your loss actually,” Vash retorts as he turns around to watch Wolfwood properly. Maybe he will stick around to play after all.
“And I’m paying for it, aren’t I?” Wolfwood challenges as he stubs out the butt of his cigarette. The skirt sways gracefully around his hips, swishing softly with his movements.
“Not paying enough,” Vash snarks playfully, leaning back against the railing.
“You just wish my skirt was shorter.” Wolfwood pulls out yet another smoke, lighter flicking on before it's even in his mouth. He cups a hand around the end of his cigarette, sheltering the small flame as he lights it. “You’ve been avoiding me,” Wolfwood states, flipping his lighter shut before taking a deep inhale.
“No I haven't,” Vash counters quickly —too quickly. “Besides, why do you care? Didja miss me or something?”
“And if I said I did?”
With no retort, Vash can only stare, mouth slightly agape, heart pounding. The thought of Wolfwood missing someone like Vash of all people makes his stomach flutter.
“You really missed me?” Vash couldn't hide the hopefulness in his voice if he tried.
Then Wolfwood breaks out into a grin and Vash’s heart drops. He should have known it was a joke. There's no reason for him to think Wolfwood would ever miss him; least of all when he has more than enough women throwing themselves at his feet. Vash is just his loser friend from elementary school.
Seeing Vash’s crestfallen expression, Wolfwood immediately begins to backpedal from his original teasing. He throws his smoke to the side, reaching out to put his arm around Vash's shoulders. “Whoa whoa whoa. What's with the long face? Of course I miss ya. But you're right here so I don't right now.”
Annoyed with himself, Vash straightens, brushing Wolfwood off of him. “I don't need your pity. Don't you have a bunch of friends to get back to?” He asks sourly.
“What's with the attitude?” Wolfwood asks with a frown, arm dropping to his side.
Huffing, Vash rolls his eyes, “why are you here? I know when I’m not wanted, but do you?” It’s all he can do to chase Wolfwood away before he reveals too much. He turns to look back out over the city, fighting back the sting of tears. The pair had been so close growing up, but once they’d graduated highschool and went their separate directions for careers, they drifted. After a while, it began to feel as though Wolfwood didn’t want him around anymore, and eventually, Vash decided to fade away.
“I'm here because you insisted I wear this get up. Did you forget about the bet there, Needle Noggin?”
Despite Wolfwood's still mild tone, Vash can see the hurt in his warm, grey eyes and it makes him immediately regret saying anything. “You didn't have to wear that ,” Vash grumbles, his ire deflating.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Wolfwood snaps. “You initiated this bet. I don't know why you're taking it out on me, now.”
Knowing Wolfwood is right, Vash shrugs and looks away. “You could have worn something long.”
Wolfwood blinks at Vash blankly, realization taking a moment to dawn. His complexion darkens into a satisfying pink as he looks away and rubs the back of his head. “So what? Maybe I wanted to wear something short,” Wolfwood retorts weakly.
Vash smiles, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Wolfwood’s. “Sorry about that.”
“C’mon Spikey, tell me what’s going on with you. I do miss you.” Wolfwood tells him, keeping their shoulders together.
Vash can feel the hem of Wolfwood’s skirt brushing against his pant leg, a reminder of what he’s wearing. He shrugs at Wolfwood’s question. “Nothing’s going on with me.”
“Bullshit. Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I’ll do it.” To punctuate his point, Wolfwood puts his arm around Vash’s shoulders, squeezing and pulling him against him. It’s not a gentle hold.
“I know you’d rather be elsewhere—“
“Will you stop telling me what I want,” Wolfwood nearly shouts. “I came here for you Needle Noggin; I came looking for you . You’re the only person I’d do this for,” he explains in exasperation before releasing his hold on Vash to gesture to his skirt.
Trying to keep up with Wolfwood’s frustration, Vash is left gawking at his legs as his movements make the skirt ride up. “What?” Vash asks stupidly, too distracted to fully grasp what his longtime friend is saying. Wolfwood didn’t shave to wear the skirt, and Vash is grateful for it, having always liked how hairy Wolfwood is. Vash himself had never been able to grow much until he started hormone treatment, and even then at most he got a few stray hairs on his chest and a light five o’clock shadow.
“You’ve always been a dense one,” Wolfwood scoffs with a heavy sigh. “I don’t dress like this for just anyone, and I sure don’t do it commando without an extra good reason.”
Brain working slowly, Vash nods along to what Wolfwood is saying, face burning when the lack of underwear is revealed to be true. Growing up together, Vash and Wolfwood were not exactly strangers to one another’s naked bodies, but so much has changed since high school, with Vash most of all. No longer does he bear the feminine curves that had plagued him through those school years. No longer does Vash’s body go through the monthly cycle of rejecting an empty womb, nor does he ascribe to the pronouns that once defined his life.
“I’m not the person I used to be, you know,” Vash tells Wolfwood. Perhaps Vash had purposely avoided Wolfwood in those times of change, too afraid of being rejected. Convinced that he needed to end it first.
“Aren’t you?” Wolfwood asks, “I think you’re more like you than you’ve ever been.”
Speechless, Vash can only continue looking out over the city, new thoughts churning themselves over in his head. Vash’s real fear had been falling irreparably in love with Wolfwood. In the end he hadn’t been able to erase his deep feelings, and even now he feels that fateful pull in the warmth at his side.
“I miss you too,” Vash finally says, shoulders sagging in surrender. Something tells him it’s now or never if he wants to keep Wolfwood in his life.
“Is that so?” Wolfwood teases, turning to face Vash’s side profile. He reaches over, grabbing Vash’s hand, twining their fingers together much like they used to those years ago.
Vash can’t help but squeeze Wolfwood’s hand back, heart pounding as he turns to face him.
“There’s my Spikey,” Wolfwood hums, free hand coming up to cup one of Vash’s warm cheeks. “You’ve been hiding from me,” he sighs lightly, eyes soft at the corners.
Guilt pricks at Vash’s consciousness knowing he’d really been the one to pull away first. “I don’t want to hide anymore,” he replies, pressing his cheek into Wolfwood’s hand, blood rushing in his ears. Vash had missed Wolfwood’s casual touch so much and it makes him wonder why he had ever backed away at all.
“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do,” Wolfwood husks, leaning in towards Vash. Their noses brush from the proximity, heated breaths warming up the shrinking space between their faces. Between their lips.
Having never been kissed, Vash almost panics, not knowing how to respond. He can barely comprehend Wolfwood even wanting to kiss him, but it’s happening, as dry lips press against his own.
Vash whines into the kiss, hands coming up to grip the lapels of Wolfwood’s leather jacket as though trying to hold on for dear life. He is, in a way, holding on to every wish and hope and dream he had ever had about Wolfwood. Hopes that had begun to shrivel up and fade away, until now. Until Vash’s very first kiss is taken by Wolfwood under the stars.
After only a moment Wolfwood pulls away, face red, eyes swallowed by swollen black pupils. Vash feels almost as undone as Wolfwood looks, lips parted as his breaths come out in short, puffs.
Quirking an eyebrow, Wolfwood takes in Vash’s appearance, “Blondie, have you ever been kissed?”
Vash’s first instinct is to deny, deny, deny. “Why does it matter?” He asks defensively.
“Whoa, whoa, it doesn’t. I was just curious,” Wolfwood explains quickly. “Besides… if I was still your first kiss after all this… maybe it was meant to happen this way.”
Emotion suddenly overwhelms Vash and he finds himself blinking back sudden tears. They drip hotly down his cheeks, unbidden by even the strongest of attempts to pull himself together. “Shit— sorry.” Vash scrubs his hands over his face, trying to stem the flow, but gentle fingers wrap around his wrists, gently prying his arms away.
“Angel, what’s the matter?” Wolfwood asks, genuine concern shadowing his expression. He rubs his thumbs over the tender skin of Vash’s inner wrists soothingly.
“I just— I never thought—” Words catch in Vash’s throat as he tries to explain. “You wanted this…” he eventually says. Wolfwood’s expression never wavers or changes from the familiar affection Vash knows so well.
“What I want,” Wolfwood teases, pulling Vash in to position his arms around his neck, “is to do it again.” He lifts a hand to a wet, tear-streaked cheek, swiping a stray tear away with a thumb.
Not one to turn down an invitation, Vash closes the distance this time, using his arms to pull them close. He kisses Wolfwood the way he’s always wanted to, deep and desperate, praying that if it’s a dream he never wakes from it. The hair at the back of Wolfwood’s neck is as soft as he imagined, and running his fingers through it makes Wolfwood moan, lips trembling against his own, the taste of cigarettes shared between them. If Vash didn't know any better he might think Wolfwood were nervous . But surely, Nicholas Daring Wolfwood isn't nervous.
Not wanting to risk ruining the dream, Vash doesn't mention it, content to just keep kissing Wolfwood. With a shuddering, anxious breath, Vash parts his lips, gingerly swiping his tongue along the seam of Wolfwood's mouth.
With a deep, throaty moan, Wolfwood gasps and breaks the kiss before it can go further. “Fuck Spikey, I want you,” he rasps breathlessly.
The words send a heady thrill racing through Vash. He's never felt so wanted before, and by Wolfwood even. “I want you too,” Vash replies.
Wolfwood shakes his head. “I want you.” He repeats, undeniable heat lacing his tone. “Now.”
Vash stares at Wolfwood as realization dawns.
Oh.
“Here?!” Vash asks incredulously despite already knowing he'll do whatever Wolfwood wants.
“There's half a dozen bedrooms in this place, Needle Noggin. Let's just pick one.” Already Wolfwood is grabbing Vash's hand, tugging him away from the railing.
The distance between them gives Vash a good view of Wolfwood in the skirt and stockings, renewing his earlier desires. He lets himself be led back into the condo where the party still rages on. A few people whistle in Wolfwood's direction but they go ignored as fingers tighten around Vash's in unspoken reassurance as they weave around the swathes of people.
Wolfwood leads Vash further into the condo and away from the party. They go up a set of stairs tucked into the far end of the main floor, and down the hall until Wolfwood stops at a random door somewhere in the middle. He presses a finger to his lips, signalling for Vash to stay quiet before knocking on the door.
The pair listens intently for any sound beyond the wall. After a few moments, Wolfwood knocks again. Still they hear nothing so he opens the door, taking care to check the room before turning and gesturing for Vash to come in.
Vash ducks into the room before Wolfwood shuts and locks it behind him. The weight of what they're going to do is beginning to sink as Vash gazes at Wolfwood's thick, hairy legs. He wonders what they'd feel like between his own. Vash's cunt throbs at the mere thought.
“Angel. If you keep looking at me like that, I'm liable to combust.” Wolfwood saunters over to where Vash is standing at the end of the bed, skirt swaying with each swing of his hips.
Feeling caught, Vash looks away with a pout. Wolfwood could always see right through him. “Then combust already and make my life easier,” Vash jokes. Now that they’re alone in a room, he feels the tension thick in the air between them.
Wolfwood moves into Vash’s space, arms pulling their bodies flush in such a familiar way he doesn’t question it, naturally moving too. Big, calloused hands cup Vash’s face, tilting their faces together to kiss again. There’s no hesitation in deepening the press of their mouths. Wolfwood leads, tongue dipping past Vash’s lips to curl them together wetly. They both moan, the sounds slipping out around the smacks of their mouths as they slide together. Vash’s fingers dig into Wolfwood’s jacket, hanging on for dear life from the simple swipe of Wolfwood’s tongue weakens his knees. It’s really happening.
“Ngh. Vash. Want you,” Wolfwood husks again between deep, needy kisses.
Saliva smears around Vash's mouth, but he pays it no mind, entire body shivering as Wolfwood's heated words light a fire in him. He teeters on the edge of losing control, not wanting to scare Wolfwood away with the ferocity of his feelings. Vash had never really felt any sort of attraction, sexual or otherwise to anyone other than his oldest friend. It drowns Vash now as he tries to keep their bodies as close as he can, desperate to be with Wolfwood in every capacity.
Only too soon does Wolfwood break the kiss, a curious look on his face. “May I touch?” He asks. He sounds interested in something, but doesn't offer an explanation.
Vash doesn't care or ask where or why, too eager to have Wolfwood's hands on him. He nods, expecting a hug or a handhold. What Vash isn't expecting is the hand that smooths over his crotch. Scorching fingers brush over the slight bulge of Vash's pants.
“Is that a boner?” Wolfwood asks, voice tinted with awe, eyes sparkling with wonder.
Despite Wolfwood's adoring tone, Vash is powerfully embarrassed. He powers through it however, determined not to cower away. This is who he is now. He's a guy who gets boners and Wolfwood has to accept that.
“Yeah. And?” Vash challenges, keeping his voice even.
Wolfwood groans, keeping his hand over the slightly wilting bulge. “That's so fucking sexy, Angel.”
While not expecting that response, Vash realizes he should never have even been worried. He should have known better. It's Wolfwood.
“For you,” Vash husks, grinding into the warm hand still cupping him. Wolfwood's approval makes him feel giddy. This is the best bet he's ever made.
“Wanna see,” Wolfwood ventures saying, cheeks pink.
Swallowing, Vash looks back at the bed. It's huge and inviting. With the door locked, nobody will bother them. Stepping back, Vash wordlessly starts unbuttoning his coat, shrugging the long garment off his shoulders. It pools in a red puddle at his feet, looking startlingly blood-like in his peripheral vision.
Vash grabs the bottom of his black turtleneck shirt next, resolutely not looking at Wolfwood as he pulls it up and over his head. His surgery incisions have long since healed, leaving a matching pair of lines where his breasts once were. The healed flesh is thick and knotted from unfortunate, matching infections, leaving the bleached lines of skin raised and uneven in places. It's far from the perfect surgery Vash had wanted, but the experience is part of him now.
Still not looking, Vash drops the shirt to the floor before he reaches for his pants. Big hands cover his own, pausing him in his next step.
“Hey Needle Noggin,” Wolfwood whispers, breath hot in Vash’s ear. “You look so beautiful I wanna help. Share the fun hm?”
Flattered by Wolfwood's forwardness, Vash nods before pulling his hands away.
“Knock yourself out,” he replies cooly despite his heart pounding as though it's trying to beat its way out of his ribcage.
When Vash is expecting Wolfwood to go right for his pants, he doesn’t, instead pressing his palms to the flat planes of Vash’s chest. His slightly sweaty skin catches on the thick scars, rubbing over the mottled flesh as the tips of his fingers lightly tickle Vash’s nipples. They’re much smaller than they used to be, flat and pink where they had been surgically placed and attached. Those had healed particularly well, the semi-dampened nerves lighting up from the foreign touch. Vash had never felt drawn to touching this part of himself, but Wolfwood’s eagerness leaves a curiosity.
“Does it feel good?” Wolfwood asks. For a moment. Vash swears he can see a hint of anxiousness in the other man’s eyes. He can almost feel the slight tremble in an otherwise sure touch.
Vash nods, bringing his hands up to cover Wolfwood’s over his chest. “It does. But, is this really what you want?” Unaccustomed to the attention being paid to his chest, Vash is eager to move on. He’s not adverse to exploring more of that later, however.
“I want all of you,” Wolfwood replies in all seriousness.
With a scoff, Vash guides Wolfwood’s hands down to the waistband of his pants, letting them slide over his skin. “You can have me.”
Wolfwood's hands take over and make easy work of Vash's belt and fly, tugging the stiff fabric open at the front to reveal plain black boxer shorts. The thin undergarment is slightly gaping from Vash’s renewed erection. Wolfwood whistles lowly, palm gliding over the cotton underwear.
For a moment, Vash is expecting him to say something cheesy or lame, but he’s quieted by the intense expression on Wolfwood’s face. “If this is a dream, don't wake me up, okay?” Wolfwood jokes in a startlingly familiar desire to match Vash’s own.
Without the denim between them, Wolfwood's touch is magnified. His long fingers seem to reach between Vash's thighs to caress the dampening heat there. Fingers Vash had only ever imagined touching him in that very place.
“I feel the same way,” Vash tells Wolfwood with a wry smile. With Wolfwood's touch making his knees extra weak, Vash grabs his shoulders, fingers curling into the stiff leather. “Can you take this off or something?” The material creaks under his grip.
“Anything for you Angel,” Wolfwood answers as he reluctantly removes his hand to do as requested. He slips the jacket off, tossing it to the side of the bed before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling that off next.
Vash hadn’t been expecting Wolfwood to take off his shirt too, but he’s not complaining. Returning the favour, Vash resumes taking off his pants, shoving his jeans down to his feet and kicking them off clumsily. Wolfwood looks like he’s going to do the same, but he pauses when his hands reach the waistband of the skirt.
“Should I keep the skirt on?” Wolfwood asks as he looks at Vash. There’s no hint of mocking or teasing in the question. “I kinda like it,” he adds, twirling his hips.
Raising an eyebrow, Vash looks at Wolfwood appreciatively as he twists the skirt around. “I like it too,” he tells him. “And the socks.”
“That settles it then,” Wolfwood grins at Vash. “No need to worry about underwear,” he winks.
Rolling his eyes, Vash fingers the waistband of his boxer briefs, feeling nervous again about revealing himself. Wolfwood has always had such confidence, even going so far as to go streaking down the street on a dare one night at a slumber party.
Something shiny catches Vash’s attention in the low light of the bedroom, hiding in the thick trail of hair that coats Wolfwood’s stomach and belly button. Upon closer, and as casual of an inspection as he can manage, Vash discovers it’s a piercing. Wolfwood has a navel piercing.
Cover immediately blown by his reaction, Vash looks up, his eyes meeting Wolfwood’s smug expression. “Like it?” Wolfwood asks, sauntering back over to Vash.
From the new proximity, Vash can see the sparkling blue gem dangling from where it’s secured through Wolfwood’s flesh. It moves with him, catching in the curly hair. The piercing is a surprise to say the least, but Vash definitely likes it. He nods, semi-distracted by his nervous thoughts.
While Vash struggles to figure out what comes next, Wolfwood uses that confidence as he closes the space between them again, hands coming up to rest on Vash’s hips. “What’re you thinking about, Spikey? Don’t back away from me now.”
“I’m not!” Vash argues petulantly. “I’ve never done this before, okay?” He blurts out.
Wolfwood doesn’t even blink at Vash’s admission, eyes crinkling at the corners, “that’s why I’m here.”
The hands on Vash’s hips are so hot, he wouldn’t be surprised to see a pair of prints seared onto his skin. Wolfwood has always taken care of Vash.
“Do you trust me?” Wolfwood asks suddenly, thumbs rubbing over Vash’s hip bones.
Even at their most distant moment, Vash’s trust for Wolfwood never wavered. “I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.”
“Then relax, and let me take care of you already.” Wolfwood insists before leaning in to kiss Vash firmly.
Acquiescing to Wolfwood’s insistence, Vash sighs into the kiss. The proximity has their mostly naked bodies rubbing together; Wolfwood’s soft, hairy chest rubs against Vash’s own scarred body, tickling his nipples and the sensitive skin around the silver markings from his surgery. Once upon a time, Vash could only wonder how it might feel, but he doesn’t need to imagine it now. He kisses Wolfwood back with enthusiasm, moaning and gasping into their connected lips as they taste one another thoroughly. Desire rages through Vash with a strength he’s never felt before, leaving him rutting desperately against Wolfwood for something . For more.
Wolfwood’s hands slide down over Vash’s ass, grabbing his cheeks and squeezing them indulgently as they grind their bodies together. Vash loses all sense of self consciousness like this, only wanting more. Eventually Wolfwood’s hands make it down the back of Vash’s underwear; hot skin against skin rips a strangled gasp from the well of Vash’s throat and Wolfwood takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue past their lips, slurping into Vash’s mouth with a satisfied hum as he continues to fondle his ass.
“Mmm Angel,” Wolfwood groans throatily, muffled by Vash.
The low rasp deepens Vash’s need. “More. Want more,” he huffs, pulling away from their kiss with a wet smack.
“Anything for you Blondie.” Wolfwood keeps his hands on Vash’s ass as he walks him back towards the bed.
Vash moves willingly, falling back on the mattress when his knees hit the soft edge. Wolfwood follows him every step of the way, pressing Vash against the covers before kneeling between his partially spread legs. Without further ado, Wolfwood reaches for Vash’s underwear, pulling the black fabric down his thighs and off, leaving him completely naked.
Words fail Wolfwood as he's left staring at Vash's changed body. The intense gaze makes Vash fidget and flush, not sure what Wolfwood is thinking. He tries not to cover himself, waiting for something. For what? He doesn't know.
“Angel…” Wolfwood sighs, hand coming out to rest against Vash's thigh. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he tells him.
That statement triggers something in Vash’s self consciousness when he wonders why he would want Wolfwood to stop. What if Wolfwood is the one who wants to stop? “Is something wrong?” Vash asks nervously.
Sensing Vash’s sudden unease, Wolfwood grabs one his hands, squeezing it gently. “I don’t know how well I’ll be able to control myself,” he admits. “I wanted— waited for this for so long, and—“
Growing impatient, Vash sits up, closing the distance as he drags Wolfwood in for a fierce kiss, interrupting his nervous rambling. “Less talk, more touching,” Vash teases, pulling away from the kiss. He’s not nit sure his heart can handle the full force of Wolfwood’s affection.
“You got it, Blondie,” Wolfwood grins. He presses Vash back against the mattress, letting his hands drift over his soft, bare skin reverently. His hands slide down to Vash’s thighs, wedging his thighs open.
Vash can feel the open air of the room as his body is spread apart, the slickness of his privates bared to Wolfwood’s hot gaze. He can’t bring himself to look at his body, too embarrassed by what he might look like. Vash can feel how hard and turned on he is, leaking steadily.
“I’m going to touch you now,” Wolfwood says, shuffling forward on the bed. He presses his hand to Vash’s pelvis, thumb coming down to rub along the seam of his sex before sliding up to rub around the tip of his shaft. Wolfwood works the hard nub with the pad of his thumb, alternating with sliding it between the wet folds of Vash’s throbbing cunt.
Immediately, Vash is nearly overwhelmed by Wolfwood’s touch. Inundated with pleasure he could never have comprehended, Vash writhes and gasps against the bedcovers, fingers digging into the sheets. His legs fall open naturally and he feels the way his labia parts, spreading him full open for Wolfwood.
This makes Wolfwood moan, his own erection poking against his skirt as he continues to rub between Vash’s legs. “Let me taste you,” he husks, voice deep and sultry.
With a strangled whine, Vash nods eagerly. He might not survive it, but he needs it.
Shuffling back down the bed, Wolfwood lowers himself down until his face is level with Vash’s sex, but he doesn’t break eye contact with Vash, their gazes locked together. “Keep looking at me, Angel,” Wolfwood encourages before leaning in, “I wanna suck your cock real bad,” he says before sealing his lips around Vash’s plump shaft and sucking.
Vash sees white when Wolfwood’s mouth makes contact, hand slapping over his mouth to muffle the wretched moan that tears itself from his throat. Wolfwood’s mouth is wet and hot, his tongue licking between labia as he continues to suckle the swollen crown of Vash’s arousal intermittently. Nothing could have prepared Vash for this level of sensation and pleasure. Even in the throes of intense arousal from taking testosterone, nothing could compare to Wolfwood’s raw desire. Not for the way his swollen lips seal around Vash’s short length, massaging it with his mouth.
Somewhere in the fog of his lust, Vash’s mind catches on a thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so comfortable in his own skin, even forgetting who he used to be. Wolfwood sucks his dick with the same kind of enthusiasm one might see in porn, only with a sort of genuine need that is breathtaking. It’s real .
Something slots into place for Vash between Wolfwood’s slurping and hums of his enjoyment as though eating a good meal. He really wants to be there with Vash and the realization is more than a little stunning. The rest of Vash’s reservations seem to slip away under the onslaught of Wolfwood’s mouth and tongue as he continues to work Vash towards his climax. The tight swell of arousal pulls taut in his core, urged on by the wet tongue that flicks over his hole between harsh sucks.
“Nngh, Wolfwooooood,” Vash moans, long and drawn out, fingers diving into messy black hair. He gives in a little, rocking his hips against Wolfwood’s mouth. Vash’s boldness is rewarded by more swipes of tongue along the spread folds of his pussy, probing at the warmed entrance.
“That’s it Angel. Take what you want,” Wolfwood coos, pulling off to catch his breath. If Vash thought his lips had been swollen before, now they’re even more plush and reddened, abused by the eagerness of his feasting. Wolfwood’s chin shines with a mixture of his own saliva and Vash’s slick, mouth open as he pants.
In the process of Wolfwood’s actions his skirt managed to get rucked up, putting his hard cock on display, front and centre. He wasn’t kidding about going commando. Vash can’t help but turn away a little shyly, feeling as though he shouldn’t be looking at such a private part of Wolfwood despite their current situation. He finds himself wanting to look, however. This isn’t lost on the man between his legs.
As if sensing Vash’s want, Wolfwood reaches down, wrapping his fingers around the thick shaft of his erection. “You can look.” He strokes the hard length, eyes fluttering shut as he enjoys his own touch.
Even with permission, Vash has a hard time looking directly at it, feeling his cheeks positively burning in embarrassment at being seen. Wolfwood has always been like that, though. Seeing Vash when nobody else did. Seeing through Vash’s mask when no one saw him at all. It’s his turn to see the man before him. To see the lines of hesitation that crinkle Wolfwood’s brow and slow down his hand. Of course he has his own insecurities about what they’re doing and Vash hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with his own desire for Wolfwood. He moves to rectify this now, reaching out to curl his hand around Wolfwood’s to match his grip.
Startled by Vash’s touch, Wolfwood gasps. His cock throbs in their hands before fluid starts to shoot out from the swollen tip.
“Aw fuck,” Wolfwood curses, eyes flying open as he comes from the brief touch of Vash. “Shit— don't—”
Wolfwood tries to shake Vash’s hand off, clearly not wanting to make him messy, but Vash refuses, marveling as the slick, milky release dribbles down the length of Wolfwood's cock and over their hands. It's warm and slippery, smearing between Vash's fingers.
After a moment, Vash realizes Wolfwood's body is trembling, penis softening as sticky globs of cum continue to ooze slowly from the reddened slit before turning into foamy bubbles when it tapers off.
Wolfwood groans, reaching down to pry Vash’s fingers loose from his quickly deflating erection. “That wasn’t supposed to go that way,” he sighs in defeat.
“Go what way?” Vash asks as he examines the viscous fluid on his hand.
Instead of answering him, Wolfwood raises an eyebrow, no doubt watching Vash’s curiosity unfold. “Oi! what are you—“
Wolfwood’s cum feels slippery when he rubs it between his fingers, and before he can stop himself, Vash brings his hand up to his mouth, tongue flicking out over his fingers as he licks the release coating his skin. While it’s not tasty , there’s a certain attraction to it by just being Wolfwood’s . Humming, Vash twirls his tongue around his digits, sucking up the remnants as he forgets his own nakedness and desire.
Speechless, Wolfwood watches, face red, as Vash cleans his hand. He groans dramatically, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Spikey, you’re really gonna kill me.”
“Don’t die on me,” Vash frowns, hand dropping back to the bed. “I wouldn't want that.”
“No?” Wolfwood replies with a small smirk. “Well, you kinda made me blow my load a bit early.”
“I did that?” Vash blinks down at where Wolfwood's cock would be, now covered by the skirt again.
“You have no idea how long I've been dreaming of having your hands on me.” Grabbing his jacket, Wolfwood fishes out his pack of smokes, pulling one out and pressing it between his lips. “I'm not done with you, though,” he adds before lighting it with a flick of his zippo.
The promise in Wolfwood’s voice makes Vash shudder in anticipation. He has no idea what to expect next. Vash shuffles back on the bed, legs falling open as he does, eyes gazing at Wolfwood’s strong form as he smokes in that cool, casual way Vash is so used to seeing. In that moment everything that he had felt had changed, feels familiar and within his reach. Wolfwood is still the same.
Attention drawn by Vash’s movement, Wolfwood’s gaze roves over his naked body, eyes dark with hunger. He takes a deep pull of his cigarette, stubbing it out on the decorative rock that sits on the dresser, before turning to Vash like a predator ready to eat despite having already feasted. Second breakfast. He climbs onto the bed, crawling up the soft covers until he reaches Vash, continuing even further still, arms caging around either side of the blonde’s head as his big blue eyes sparkle reverently.
Vash welcomes Wolfwood’s closeness, arms coming up to link around his neck. All the conflicting emotions he’d been feeling earlier seem to dissolve with their proximity. The warm scent of cigarettes inundates his senses in a drug-like way, deepening his desire for Wolfwood.
“Wanna fuck you properly, Spikey,” Wolfwood husks bringing their crotches together with a huff. He’s surprisingly already hard again, erection clear under the skirt.
Vash can feel the heat radiating from between Wolfwood’s legs, the scorching rod of his cock pressing insistently against his thigh. He wonders how hot it will feel inside of him. “Only you,” Vash replies in lieu of a real answer as he wraps his legs around Wolfwood’s hips.
The invitation is clear enough as Wolfwood adjusts his position, reaching a hand down to aim his cock. He rubs the slick crown along Vash’s wet folds, moaning as the warm fluid as it coats his dick. After only a moment of hesitation he presses inwards, cock sinking into the hot sheath of Vash’s body without resistance.
Despite how easily Vash takes Wolfwood, he’s surprised by how thick he is, the scorching girth seeming to split Vash open down to his soul. He chokes, pulling in a deep breath as he tries to adjust around the length with weak legs.
“Okay there, angel?” Wolfwood asks, concern creasing his brow.
For a moment Vash fears Wolfwood is going to pull out or change his mind. He grabs for Wolfwood’s broad shoulders, fingers digging in to keep him there. “I’m more than okay,” Vash rasps as he flexes his hips experimentally. The ridges of Wolfwood’s cock rub deliciously along his inner walls, making Vash moan. He had no idea sex could feel so good.
Wolfwood follows Vash’s flex with a shallow thrust of his own, reveling in the slick friction of their joining before pressing back in to the root. It’s everything he could have ever imagined and more. Not even the filthiest of Wolfwood’s fantasies could have compared to the real thing. Nothing could have prepared him for the look of pure, unadulterated affection that Vash is giving him. He can’t hold back and Vash doesn’t try to stop him either when he gives another thrust. This one is deeper than the last, squeezing Vash’s insides as he shoves his cock back in.
Vash writhes on the bed under Wolfwood, head rolling against the pillow as he gasps breathlessly. It’s hot alright. So hot Vash worries he’s going to catch fire on the spot. Vaguely he remembers Wolfwood didn’t take off his skirt, the fabric bunching up between their bodies. It only makes him feel more untethered from himself, floating from the euphoria of being with Wolfwood like this.
A rhythm is set as Wolfwood continues, rolling his hips with each pull and push as he sinks in, deeper every time. It’s different from the hungry fervour of earlier. Slower and more thorough as though Wolfwood is trying to give as much of himself as he can. Vash wants it all. He gives in, arms falling limply against the bed, legs bending to urge Wolfwood onwards.
“C’mon Wolfwood. Need you,” Vash practically taunts.
Wolfwood growls, guttural and dark. He releases his grip on Vash’s hips, grabbing his thighs instead to bend him back and spread them apart, baring their connection and the tight grip Vash’s pussy has on Wolfwood’s throbbing cock. He speeds up, slamming his dick in and out of the swollen red hole as fluid coats his shaft. Each thrust has Vash’s own dick twitching and pulsing with need. Absently he reaches down, fingers rubbing the short shaft as Wolfwood fucks him relentlessly.
“That’s so hot,” Wolfwood practically purrs, gaze zeroing in on Vash’s hand, slim fingers rubbing the loose skin that extends over his hard and wet little cock.
Feeling like he might go insane with desire, Wolfwood searches for something to ground him, digging into his jacket for his smokes again. He pulls one out to light it and take a drag.
After a deep inhale, Wolfwood taps the end, letting the accumulated ash fall off and onto Vash’s stomach. It tickles lightly.
Vash stares open mouthed at the audacity of Wolfwood as he smokes, appalled by what he's seeing. “Hey! You're getting ashes all over me you jerk!” It's infuriating how cool Wolfwood still looks, a smoldering cigarette between his lips as he slams into Vash's wet cunt as if he does it every day. The cocky confidence only adds to Vash's irritation with his own attraction to said behaviour. It’s impossible to be truly mad.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I'd never let you get burned,” Wolfwood assures him. His voice doesn't even waver as he continues to fuck into Vash with abandon, seemingly spurred on by his feigned indignation. A free hand comes down between them, nicotine stained fingers slipping through the creamy fluids of Vash’s desire as he continues to fondle himself.
Wolfwood’s promise of never letting Vash get burned extends beyond that of stray cigarette ashes. He knows this better than anyone. He’d been the one to pull away truthfully, but is already pulled back in by Wolfwood’s magnetism. And by his dick. It pounds into Vash unceasingly, hitting its mark with each surge.
“W—Wolfwood, you’re going so hard,” Vash whines dramatically as his climax makes a sharp upturn towards completion from Wolfwood’s wandering fingers as they slip along his own.
“I know you can take it angel, show me how you come,” Wolfwood coos shamelessly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air above them.
It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Vash whines petulantly as an unfurling of pressure spreads out from his abdomen It tears through his heated body, igniting the powder keg of his orgasm. Vash cries out as he reaches for the bedcovers—anything to ground himself as he floats over his climax.
Instead of the blankets, thick, rough fingers tangle with his own, Wolfwood taking the opportunity to hold Vash’s hands. “I’ve got you,” he says, stubbing his smoke out on the headboard and discarding it on the side table before using both hands for Vash.
Feeling the assurance in those words, Vash lets his body release, falling limp as he comes so hard his vision goes white. Wolfwood’s presence is strong and comforting as Vash feels the way his body flexes, trying to squeeze every ounce of lust out of him.
Only, there’s something missing in all this.
Vash whines again, hand reaching down to where they’re connected. He lets his fingers dance blindly along what little is exposed of Wolfwood’s shaft. “Please,” he begs, feeling the way a vein throbs against his touch.
Wolfwood swears, “shit Blondie, I didn’t bring anything to— won’t you…“
Immediately, Vash understands what Wolfwood is saying. A lot has changed. He shakes his head, “no. I want it in me.”
Groaning, Wolfwood falls forward, using their joined hands to brace himself against the bed as he presses their foreheads together, breaths intermingling hotly. “What is it you want again?” He asks teasingly, giving a short thrust.
The fluids of Vash’s orgasm squelches noisily between them, making his face warm from mild embarrassment. Even worse is he knows Wolfwood is really going to make him say it. Make him ask for it while he’s pinned to the bed, at Wolfwood’s mercy. A renewed shiver of arousal floods through Vash as he finds his shamelessness and embraces it. “Wolfwoooood,” Vash groans plaintively, “I want you to fill me,” he eventually says, face even hotter as he tries to look away.
Releasing one of Vash’s hands, Wolfwood uses it to cup a red cheek, smiling down at him adoringly. “Because you asked me so nicely,” he hums with a cheeky grin, not letting Vash avoid his all-seeing gaze.
Before Vash is able to react, Wolfwood leans down, sealing their lips together in a firm kiss as he comes.
Even as Wolfwood’s cock pulses, he fucks his cum into Vash with short, hard thrusts. Unable to look, Vash can only feel the warm, milky fluid as it overflows, pushed out over his already sopping pussy to dribble between his folds. By the time Wolfwood is slowing down, they’re both panting, chests heaving with their humid breaths as they finally break for air.
“You got a cunt like a steel trap,” Wolfwood jokes, flexing his hips while his softening cock is still sheathed by Vash’s body. “I never wanna leave.”
“You’re gonna have to eventually,” Vash sighs. He’s not looking forward to the feeling of emptiness he knows will be when the pair inevitably has to part.
Now that Vash is less focused on Wolfwood, he’s able to take in more about their surroundings and everything that has happened. He takes in the room they commandeered, having not checked to see who it belonged to before using it. Elendira lives in the condominium with several roommates, none of whom Vash is particularly fond of. From his spot on the bed, he can see the deliberate tidiness of the shelves, less due to the lack of use, and more due to the particularities of the room’s inhabitant.
There’s a stack of boxes of blue pharmacy brand hair dye on a shelf by the bathroom door, making the occupant of the room obvious. Legato.
“Wolfwood,” Vash begins, concern rising in him. They should go.
“What is it, doll?” Wolfwood asks, unconcerned by Vash’s sceptical tone. He takes the moment to pull out, flaccid penis retreating back into the foreskin, beyond Vash’s own gaze. Cum still coats the wrinkled skin, glistening on the empty tip.
Not letting the absence of Wolfwood’s dick distract him, Vash bites back a complaint. “Did you know this was Legato’s room when you picked it.” Vash asks in accusation. He knows Wolfwood and Legato have always hated each other, but he doesn’t want to be pulled into their silly feud.
“Oh? Is it his room?” Wolfwood answers with a suspiciously straight face.
Vash glares at him.
Wolfwood sighs. “I didn’t know until we entered, okay?” He sits back on his knees grabbing another cigarette, seemingly unconcerned about his messy nudity.
Sitting up, Vash kicks his feet over the edge of the bed. “We’re leaving.”
“Aw cmon. Now?” Wolfwood complains as he stands, holding a hand out for Vash to take while he lights his smoke.
“Yes, now.” Vash gets up on unsteady legs, feeling like a newborn foal as he wobbles over to his discarded clothing with Wolfwood’s help.
“And go where? I’m not done with you.”
The heat in Wolfwood’s voice gives Vash pause. He doesn’t want it to end either. He’s half-afraid if they leave now the spell will be broken.
Wolfwood seems to have an answer. He takes Vash’s other hand, preventing him from getting dressed right away as he tugs him around to face him. The depth of emotion on Wolfwood’s face keeps Vash silent, only raising a brow in question.
“Come with me,” Wolfwood says, his voice serious.
Vash almost laughs in confusion. “Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”
Shaking his head, Wolfwood squeezes Vash’s hand in reassurance, “I mean… not just now. For good. I want to take care of you.”
Stunned into silence now, Vash stares into warm grey eyes as he lets the offer sink in. Wolfwood wants him. He wants him for more than just this night. More than just the next few days.
“C’mon Spikey. Don’t you believe me? I love yo—“
Vash slaps a hand over Wolfwood’s mouth before he can finish. He’s barely been able to comprehend the initial request, let alone a confession . That hadn’t been on Vash’s bingo card for the day. Or ever.
Despite his initial impatience for Vash’s answer, Wolfwood doesn’t push any further, standing expectantly, mouth shut behind slim fingers. He waits with his hand still holding Vash’s tightly, unwilling to let go as if afraid of being parted.
That is until Vash feels something warm and wet against his hand. With startled yelp, he yanks his hand away to see Wolfwood’s grinning mouth, tongue sticking out playfully. “So? What’ll it be, angel?”
There is only one answer Vash ever considered giving.
“Yes.”