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The ship was quiet, tonight.
That was an odd thing to notice, but Wolfwood had been acutely aware of it while he’d been walking through the corridors, rounding the corner that separated the hallway where his and Livio’s rooms were, and the one where Vash’s was. When they’d settled in, there had been apologies made about splitting all of them up, but, secretly, Wolfwood sort of liked it.
He knew Vash did.
Neither of them had really gotten to have the clandestine, forbidden midnight visits that people tended to have when they were younger. Wolfwood had been too caught up in helping at the orphanage, and then being turned into a living weapon, and Vash...
Things were weird for Plants, especially Independents. Wolfwood got the impression that Vash hadn’t really had the space to even think about that sort of thing.
Now, though, it was almost embarrassing how much they were thinking about it. Moving onto the ships in the fleet had been a big change. Instead of everything Wolfwood had known for his entire life, now there was space, and different clothes, ones provided to him, and different roles. Actual jobs, ways that he was helping on their voyage. It meant that he stayed busy, and so did Livio. Meryl and Milly were not just encouraged, but almost required to continue their documentation of all the travels and adventures they were experiencing. And Vash, on board ships with so many Plants to tend to and help, flourished.
It was different.
It was nice.
But, even with all that change, the things that he and Vash had fallen into, in the last weeks of their time on Noman’s Land hadn’t slipped away.
If anything, they’d gotten worse.
Wolfwood would see Vash in passing, the two of them crossing paths in a corridor, Vash on his way from one Plant bay to another, Wolfwood on his way to help out with ferrying some of the children from one lesson (Drama, with Leonof) to another (Music, with Midvalley). It would be quick, and brief, and anyone who saw could infer whatever they wanted, but Wolfwood was almost helpless to resist the way Vash would reach out, their fingers catching in a two second embrace.
Sometimes, it was more than that.
Sometimes, it was Vash catching his wrist and pulling him in, and in those moments Wolfwood would find himself breaking away from Vash’s lips a minute later, promising, ‘later, later, I’ll see you later, the kids are gonna wonder where I am’ while Vash smiled, letting him go, looking entirely too smug about it. Or, he’d find himself being left in the corridor while Vash dashed away, waving and promising to see him in a few hours.
He understood the smugness. He felt it, deeply, in those moments, watching Vash hurry away to do whatever he’d promised to.
That smugness would carry him through the rest of the day. Sit with him during meals, when they were all together, and the girls were going on about the things they’d learned, or Livio talking about how good his day was, which was a damn beautiful thing to hear. It would be there, at that shared table, when Wolfwood’s foot knocked against Vash’s under the table, or Vash’s hand lingered a little longer on his arm than it needed to.
If the others hadn’t figured it out, Wolfwood didn’t intend to waste the time telling them. He was too busy. All of his spare time was taken up, thinking about the next time the two of them could be alone together.
He was absolutely going through some kind of giggly honeymoon phase, but Wolfwood didn’t care.
Reaching Vash’s door, he rapped his knuckles against it, glancing down the corridor as though he expected someone to jump out and declare them caught. Meryl, likely, though Wolfwood wouldn’t put it past Livio to get curious about hearing him leaving his room. No one jumped out, though, and a few seconds later, Vash opened the door.
He was smiling.
God, he smiled so much, these days. Didn’t he know it made Wolfwood weak?
Without a word, he stepped into Vash’s room, closing the door behind himself. He heard the automatic lock engage, the same soft whirr that the one in his room made, but it was quiet, lost under the sound of his own pulse tripping with the way Vash boxed him in against the door.
“Missed you.”
Wolfwood grinned.
“You saw me an hour ago,” he pointed out, one hand curling around the side of Vash’s neck, fingers brushing in the soft black hair at his nape. Wolfwood hadn’t liked that hair, at first. Hadn’t liked what it symbolized. Now, though, more than a year later, he’d grown to like it just as much as the blonde. Especially for the way it made Vash’s blue eyes stand out like they were now, searching Wolfwood’s face.
Like he needed to look for permission before he leaned in.
“I still missed you.”
This shouldn’t have still felt novel, shouldn’t have still made his heart do weird, complicated things, but every time Vash kissed him, it was a rush that couldn’t be matched even by the feeling of his accelerated healing kicking in. That hadn’t gone away and when Vash kissed him like this, pressing him into the closed door, the thrill was intoxicating.
Of anyone that Vash could have wanted, anyone this otherworldly, powerful creature could have wanted, it was him.
Wolfwood didn’t think he made a secret of how much he liked that. Not with the way he kissed back, the hand against Vash’s neck keeping him close, other hand sliding around Vash’s side. He wasn’t wearing all the things he’d had on at dinner. Just a thin white shirt, the loose fabric bunching under Wolfwood’s fingers as he guided Vash’s body into his own.
There were things the ships had provided to them that he was supremely appreciative of. One of those was the loose, comfortable sweatpants he’d worn to come here tonight. They were enough to keep him decent, but only just. They left nothing to the imagination when his body pressed into Vash’s.
Both of them gasped, and then Vash was laughing, soft, pressing their foreheads together.
“I was thinking about a shower, tonight.”
That was still a new concept for all of them. Constant, clean, hot running water, pouring down from a head in the wall. They had one in every room. It was a wonder. A treat.
And Wolfwood had found out they weren’t a terrible space to share with Vash.
“Thinking about sharing one?”
This close, Vash’s smile showing in his eyes was pretty much all Wolfwood could see. It was more than enough to show the hint of teasing that became all too apparent when Vash opened his mouth.
“You’re too easy.”
Pulling back, Wolfwood frowned. It wasn’t real, and he knew Vash would know it, even as he wormed out of his grasp, slipping away from between Vash and the door. Vash’s room was, maybe, a little bigger than his or Livio’s, but that was to be expected. Also meant that Wolfwood had enough space to stay out of Vash’s reach while he shrugged his shoulders, and tugged at the hem of his own shirt.
“Kind of rude, coming from the guy who said he missed me after an hour.”
Pulling the shirt off over his head, Wolfwood tossed it on the floor, meeting Vash’s eyes again.
He hadn’t moved much. Maybe a step or two forward when he’d been trying to catch Wolfwood, but now he was standing there, a safe distance away.
Looking Wolfwood over in ways Wolfwood would have dreamed of, just a year ago.
“Oh, you did really miss me,” he drawled, backing up a few steps towards the open doorway that led into Vash’s adjoined bathroom. That got Vash’s attention, his eyes flicking back up to Wolfwood’s face, the hunger toning down for just a second.
God, seeing it made Wolfwood weak in the knees, though.
Vash was, essentially, the closest thing to a damn angel as he was ever going to get, and Vash looked at him like he’d devour him and show him the true meaning of ‘heaven’ all at once? Wolfwood had not been a good enough person to deserve it, but he knew a thing or two about looking a gift horse in the mouth.
“It’s been a few days,” Vash reasoned, coming towards him. Wolfwood stepped backwards over the threshold of the bathroom. The movement caused the motion sensitive lighting to come on, a little brighter than Wolfwood might have liked, the white light reflecting off white surfaces. That could be adjusted, though, he wasn’t taking the time to do it now. His hands were too busy, undoing the tie on his sweatpants. “Not that it wasn’t nice to wake up next to you, the other morning.”
Two nights ago. When Vash had snuck into Wolfwood’s room, and, like the dumb, lovestruck idiots they were, they’d curled up in Wolfwood’s bed, trading kisses before they’d both fallen asleep.
Low stakes life.
Wolfwood could get used to it.
“If we’d woken up a little sooner...” Wolfwood started, letting Vash get close to him, now. He stopped right outside the bathroom, pulling that white shirt off. His expanse of marked up, scarred and healed skin stretched as he pulled it off over his head.
Some might be run off by that. Maybe Wolfwood, who couldn’t scar even if he wanted to, should have been. It was chilling, to see the things that his life had done to Vash, the souvenirs it had left him with, but Wolfwood had gotten used to them. Gotten used to the way they felt under his hands, against his chest, even the metal grating over the place where Vash’s heart should be.
Vash didn’t try to hide it or apologize for it anymore. It was good.
“You were saying something about waking up a little sooner?”
Vash stepped into the bathroom, and Wolfwood backed up, properly, giving him space. While Vash reached back behind himself to guide the sliding door shut, Wolfwood’s fingers reached out, hooking in his waistband to pull him closer, moving to the already loose knot in the strings. Clearly, Vash had barely made sure he was dressed enough. This had been his plan all along.
“If we’d woken up a little sooner the other morning, maybe we could’ve...” Wolfwood looked away from Vash’s waistband, meeting his eyes. His mouth quirked in a smile. “You might’ve been late for your check-ins, though.”
He could tell Vash was thinking about it, if not by the look in his eyes, then by the slow spread of pink in his cheeks.
“Would they know?”
Wolfwood knew Vash understood what he was asking. Would the Plants know? Would they understand why Vash had been late to visit them, if he’d stayed in bed with Wolfwood, and had a slow, sweet start to the day?
Instead of answering, Vash reached out, tugging Wolfwood’s sweats, that were already sitting low on his hips, down. It was the slightest tug, but they crumpled immediately, gathering up at his ankles while Vash stepped back, sliding off his own.
They were both bare underneath.
It was kind of ridiculous, how they’d both known where this was going to end up.
“Turn on the water, would you?” Vash asked, turning to the panel on the wall. Above them, the lights set into the ceiling changed tone from bright white to a lower, warmer orange. It definitely hurt Wolfwood’s eyes less as the shower started up, hot water hitting the floor, steam starting to fog up the room immediately.
Without waiting for an invite, Wolfwood stepped past the wide glass doors that walled the shower off from the rest of the bathroom, and under the spray. He’d set the temperature just right, in his opinion. The ships weren’t exactly cold, but they didn’t run hot, either, and this was nice.
Nicer was the press of Vash’s body behind him, two hands, one prosthetic, still cool against his skin, and one flesh, coming around his sides. Vash’s chin pressed into his shoulder, his chest against Wolfwood’s back, and Wolfwood sighed.
He didn’t deserve this.
He wouldn’t ever give it up without a hell of a fight.
“You wanted a shower, right?” he asked, after a second, one hand reaching back. The spray of water wasn’t hitting their heads, certainly wasn’t reaching all of Vash, and his hair was mostly dry, though Wolfwood could feel where he was getting hit with droplets, and his own hand was wet, sliding through the strands.
Behind him, Vash made a non-committal noise. “This is nice.”
Still, Wolfwood felt a kiss press to the back of his shoulder before Vash let him go, his right hand tapping at Wolfwood’s hip in a universal signal for ‘move’.
Obligingly, Wolfwood did, stepping back and letting Vash get under the water.
It wasn’t like he didn’t get something out of this, either.
They’d both learned, early on, that if something actually needed done, like a shower, then they needed to give each other space to do that, even if they were crammed into the stall together, and there was less than a foot of space between them, and while Wolfwood was standing there, he couldn’t do anything but look at Vash and want.
But, everything took longer if he didn’t keep his hands to himself, so he did, balling them into fists and crossing his arms, leaning on the cool, slick wall of the shower while he watched Vash scrub shampoo into his hair, the muscles moving under his skin, soapy water sluicing down his body, away, down the drain. Waiting until Vash stepped out from under the spray and gestured with his prosthetic hand for Wolfwood to take his place.
That arm was a wonder. Wolfwood didn’t have the first idea about how Brad had made the thing, and, if he had any kind of inclination to understand, maybe some day he’d sit Brad down and ask how he’d done it.
Then again, given the things that hand had done to him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be talking to anyone but Vash about it.
Despite the fact that he had been perfectly respectful of the fact that Vash needed a minute to get himself something approaching clean, Wolfwood was fairly sure it was only forty or so seconds before he could feel Vash moving into his space. Head tipped back to rinse, he wiped a hand over one eye and then cracked it open to check.
As expected, Vash was watching him, standing close. There was a sheen on his skin that Wolfwood immediately understood had come from the bar of soap in his right hand, something he would need to rinse off.
“Can’t wait a minute?”
“Nope,” Vash answered, brightly. As though Wolfwood speaking had been permission, he moved in the rest of the way, right arm going around Wolfwood.
It should have been embarrassing, the way Wolfwood obediently tipped his face back down to meet Vash’s mouth, water running down his temples and cheeks from his wet hair. He’d barely finished what he needed to do, but Vash was close, touching him, and kissing him, and he couldn’t say no to that.
What he could do, though, was move them out of the spray, just enough. Both hands on Vash’s chest, finger catching on the metal on his chest, he got him back about two steps before he decided that was enough.
Letting his hand drift downwards, Wolfwood played his fingertips over Vash’s hip. It was unnecessary teasing, and he could tell that Vash thought the same from the way he kissed back, distracted for a second.
But, there was something so satisfying about the clunk of the soap bar hitting the floor when Wolfwood slid his hand between them, and ran up palm down the length of Vash’s cock. Maybe Vash had forgotten he was holding it, maybe he’d intended to put it back, but it didn’t really matter now.
What mattered was the way Vash’s hands came up, cupping his neck and keeping him close. Wolfwood pulled back as much as he’d let him, looking Vash’s face over.
Eyes closed, long lashes over his cheeks, flushed from this and from the warmth of the shower. Dark, dark hair framing his face, one strand stuck curled next to the mole under his eye. Teeth pressing into his lower lip, living a rosy little dent there.
Pressing harder when Wolfwood moved, stroking in slow touches.
Vash’s lips parted, eyebrows knitting together.
There were endless tomes of Plant research available on this ship, but Wolfwood did all of his learning right here. He discovered the most, in moments like this, like the way Vash’s body reacted to his touch, getting hard in just a few touches, leaking enough that Wolfwood’s palm felt slick when he moved in, letting Vash pull him into a hungry, open kiss, licking into his mouth like he needed to taste him to live.
Wolfwood wasn’t complaining. Wouldn’t dream of it. Not with how good it felt to have Vash this close, pushing into his hand. It wouldn’t be a secret to Vash, either; maybe Wolfwood didn’t react quite as fast, but there was no hiding how he was feeling, especially when his hand bumped his own cock, making him pause to breathe.
That had been the opening that Vash had been waiting for. The break where he could get things back under his own control.
“Turn around.”
Vash’s lips were warm and wet against his, between the way he’d been kissing him and the water and steam around them. Wolfwood didn’t hesitate following that request, couldn’t have if he’d tried to do it just to rile Vash up. He was riled enough already, his hands on Wolfwood’s sides guiding him to turn, to face the wall, before he was crowding in against his body.
Wolfwood could feel his cock bumping between his legs, the water-slick slide of it against his skin the perfect tease. One hand splayed against the damp shower wall, he let it slide, pressing his forehead against his forearm. Vash’s flesh fingers pressed into his hip, and his other hand...
“Fuck, Vash—”
This was why Wolfwood didn’t think he would ever be able to ask anyone but Vash himself a damn thing about that arm. Not without turning red, and thinking about the way those fingers pressed inside him. It shouldn’t have been allowed, and Wolfwood knew it was something about Vash, about the way he was moving his fingers, but it destroyed him, every time.
Made him the mess he was, right now, already, rocking back against Vash’s hand without thinking, chasing after that sweet feeling.
“Slow down, Nick.”
Vash’s lips, against his ear, his voice low and quiet, but there was a strain there that Wolfwood couldn’t miss. This was just as torturous for Vash, and of course it was. Wolfwood could feel him, hard against his thigh, could tell from the grip on his hip that he was barely keeping it together.
“You don’t need to do all that,” Wolfwood huffed, turning his head against his own arm to look at Vash over his shoulder. He looked gorgeous in this light, the dimness of it only lighting him up enough for Wolfwood to see the flash of his eyes, the edge of his smile. There was a faint glow to his skin, now, that had little to do with soap or anything else.
Wolfwood swallowed.
In reply, Vash pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then another, before his fingers pressed deep, curling up inside Wolfwood, and if he hadn’t had the wall to lean on, he might have collapsed.
It was bad enough as it was, the sound he made echoing off the smooth white walls, easy to hear over the running water. They didn’t need to add the sound of him collapsing on the floor.
“But I like to do all this,” Vash murmured, his voice still so close, fingers moving slower, now. “You like it so much...”
“Vash, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
There had been a time, very, very early on, when Wolfwood had uttered that sentence, and Vash had backed off immediately, believing he’d done something wrong. Now, he made the problem somewhere in the neighbourhood of thirty times worse, laughing softly.
He did let up, though, fingers sliding out and leaving Wolfwood feeling equal parts empty, needy, and eager.
Not for long, though.
Wolfwood’s other hand, the one that wasn’t bracing his forehead against the wall, curled, his breath coming out slow and shaky. Vash’s hand slid from his hip to his stomach, bracing him, his warm palm pressing against the muscles there while his other hand, the one that he’d been using to take Wolfwood apart just a minute before, moved to grip his other hip.
There was no explaining how good it felt when Vash pushed inside him. He couldn’t have expected it, hadn’t known how much he’d love it until the first time. Then, he’d been on his knees in his own bed, Vash curled over him while he whined into a pillow, asking if it was okay, if it hurt.
No, it never did, and maybe that was some kind of fucked up, weird Plant thing, or maybe Vash was just really good at prepping him, but either way, Wolfwood didn’t care. Hadn’t then, didn’t now.
He hadn’t stopped needing it, since that time, and he knew Vash knew it. He could feel it in the way Vash pressed up against him, cock pushing deep inside before he pulled his hips back, rocking forward slow, careful, like he might break Wolfwood.
Maybe he could. Wolfwood might welcome it.
“Drivin’ me crazy, spikey...”
The hand against his stomach moved, drifting up, against his chest.
“I know.”
Like Wolfwood speaking was all he’d needed to know he wasn’t about to pass away then and there, though, Vash moved faster, the hand on Wolfwood’s hip guiding him back to meet him on every push in. Forehead against his shoulder, Vash groaned.
“So good – ah, Ni- Nick—”
It hadn’t been a secret that Wolfwood had needed to guess at, when he’d gotten there tonight, but it was always nice to hear and feel exactly how much Vash had wanted him, and just how much he was enjoying it.
“Losing it already?” he asked, not sounding put together himself with the way his voice shook.
And the way he closed his eyes and whined a second later when Vash pulled his hips back and ground into him. God, it wasn’t fair how good that felt, and how Vash knew it would shut him up immediately, make him dumb for a few long seconds, eyes closed, breath coming in shaky pants against the wall. At least Vash took pity on him, picking up his rhythm again, one foot knocking against Wolfwood’s.
Getting him to spread his legs wider.
Change the angle.
Make it so Wolfwood couldn’t string together two words of sass again when Vash pressed into him. This was better, for both of them, and Wolfwood knew it, but he wasn’t thinking straight anymore. Not with Vash leaning over him, the wet slap of their skin hardly enough to drown out the praise he was heaping on Wolfwood.
“Need you, need this—”
Vash’s cock was hitting that spot inside him, the one that made it hard for Wolfwood to keep up.
“So good for me, Nick, ah—”
Between the rough, whispered tone of Vash’s voice and the way he was fucking him, no one could have blamed Wolfwood for the sounds he was making. Needy, growly little whimpers, forehead pressing hard into his own arm, eyes staring, unfocused, at the wall.
He could come like this. Just from this alone, and he had before. Vash had made him lose it with nothing but his cock and his sweet words, making Wolfwood muffle himself into his own hand, caught up in nothing but good feelings.
Wolfwood could come from this, but he still reached down with his free hand, wrapping it around his own cock, moving quick and trying to match the way Vash was pushing into him.
Against his chest, Vash’s hand pressed harder.
The fingers on his hip squeezed.
“That’s it...”
Vash’s mouth was against the back of his neck, hot breath making goosebumps pop up when it shouldn’t have been possible. Not in here, where the hot water from the shower had made the room thick with steam, and Wolfwood was so warm all over anyway from what they were doing.
“Don’t—”
Vash’s teeth pressed against his shoulder, and Wolfwood groaned, his own voice echoing back at him, the tension in his body ratcheting.
Even if he hadn’t gotten the second word out, Vash understood.
He didn’t stop, pushing Wolfwood closer to the wall, closer to the edge. Vash had him exactly where he wanted him, and they both knew it. Wolfwood barely had space to keep his hand on himself, he’d turned his cheek against his arm, panting into his elbow, and Vash was right there. Crowding him in, fucking him hard and fast.
His forehead pressed against Wolfwood’s hair, so close Wolfwood could hear the whimper on his every exhale, could see the telltale blue glow on his skin, geometric little patterns brightening the closer Vash got.
There, trapped between the wall and Vash’s body, Wolfwood felt everything sweeten, cresting to a perfect, bright point of bliss that had him gasping for breath, his own hand moving furiously, Vash whispering in his ear.
The sound he made when he came was too loud. It would have been bad outside the shower, but it was worse in here. Not that Wolfwood cared much, or noticed, desperately stroking himself through it, painting a mess on the shower wall, knees feeling properly weak, now.
If it wasn’t for the way Vash was holding him, arm viced around him while he shamelessly chased his own high, Wolfwood knew he’d be sliding to the floor. He’d happily lay there getting drowned by the shower, glad to have gone out the way he did.
That didn’t happen, though, because Vash wouldn’t let him go. Not until he’d had his fill.
Taking his arm off the wall, Wolfwood let his cheek rest against it, reaching back, threading his fingers into Vash’s wet hair.
“Come on, sweetheart...”
Vash’s face pressed into his neck, his hips moving erratically. The markings on his skin were so bright, shining in the dim orange light. He was so close.
“...Let go...”
Vash let out a strangled noise, his hands holding hard enough to bruise, pulling Wolfwood back to meet him. It was a lot, too much, but Wolfwood loved it, fingers tightening in Vash’s hair.
“That’s it, that’s—”
Vash’s teeth bit down on his shoulder again, harder, this time, and Wolfwood slammed his other hand against the wall, bracing himself as Vash whined, holding him tight when he came.
It was pathetic, how good that felt, the way Wolfwood idly wondered every time if he could get off again just from feeling Vash come inside him, from hearing the way he gasped against his skin, breathy whispers of ‘fuck... fuck, Nick’ music to his damn ears.
“Need you to cuss a bit more, it’s fucking hot.”
Vash let out a laugh that was more of a whimper, face pressed against Wolfwood’s shoulder, muffling whatever he said in reply.
“What was that?”
Vash lifted his head, leaning in again. He hadn’t slipped out, yet, and he was so close that the movement pressed Wolfwood into the wall. Pressed him in, making Wolfwood hiss at how oversensitive he was.
Chin against Wolfwood’s shoulder, Vash repeated, “you’re too coherent.”
Wolfwood laughed.
This was stupid. He was being pressed up against a shower wall, fucked out, happy as hell to be standing there. Not all that long ago he’d been considered some kind of ruthless killing machine.
“If it bothers you, I could stay the night.”
Vash hummed, his hands drifting down Wolfwood’s sides to hold him still as he pulled out. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but Wolfwood shivered, making a face when he felt something slip down his inner thigh.
“Finish showering,” Vash suggested, leaning back in to kiss his cheek. “Maybe I’ll let you make me late in the morning.”