Chapter Text
When they finally reach town, Vash is borderline incoherent again. He’s flushed and sweating, writhing in his seat, as if he were in even more pain than he was earlier. His face is twisted, tears catching in the corners of his blue eyes, his head pressing into Wolfwood’s hip as he parks his bike.
He reaches back and pets the dark hair at his nape comfortingly, nails scratching at his scalp, Vash’s skin still blisteringly warm as he whines softly. Wolfwood needs to get food and water and maybe some extra blankets, but he needs to get Vash into a room first, somewhere he can try to get him a little more comfortable. Because right now it looks like he wants to crawl out of his own skin, his entire body fidgeting in discomfort.
He slides off his bike, wet baby blues following his movements, face open and like that of a kicked puppy. It makes Wolfwood want to wrap him up and put him somewhere safe, tuck him somewhere warm. Which is a ridiculous instinct that he wasn’t even aware that he had anymore. He scoffs at himself, shaking his head.
“Come on, Spikey. I’m gonna get you to a bed, alright?” He wraps an arm around Vash’s waist, carefully pulling him up and out of the sidecar. Vash’s legs are trembling, his face burying incessantly into Wolfwood’s neck, nosing at his throat. Wolfwood can still smell his slick, citrusy and sweet, and something about his scent makes his knees feel weak.
“It hurts.” Vash murmurs miserably, hands clenching into the back of Wolfwood’s suit jacket.
Wolfwood smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, gently leading him towards the inn’s entrance, ignoring the tight knot of heat in his gut. “I know, angel, I know.”
He gets a key from the front desk with only minimal staring from other patrons, his gaze sharpening on anyone who looks at Vash for a little too long, and it sends their eyes quickly skittering away.
Vash is still essentially boneless in his hold as they struggle up the stairs, Wolfwood mostly carrying him with an arm around his waist, but they eventually make it to the top without tumbling down first. He messes with the lock for a few moments, Vash mouthing absently at his jaw and humming into his skin when Wolfwood finally pushes the door open, the beginning frissons of trickling warmth already skittering down his spine.
Wolfwood eases him down into the hotel’s double-bed, leathers and all. Vash sinks into the too-thin covers, stretching languidly and pushing his arms above his head, but he looks a little more content. Wolfwood tugs off his suit jacket, hanging it in the headboard and rolling up his sleeves. Then he kneels in front of Vash, working at the several straps of the boots that run up his long legs.
“There is no way you need this many buckles, Spikey.” He snorts, patting Vash on the calf as he slips one of his boots off. Vash doesn’t respond, his hands pawing at his sleeveless top with clumsy fingers.
“It’s so hot.” He gasps, groaning in frustration as he claws at his chest. Wolfwood leans up, abandoning the other boot for now.
“Hey, you’re fine.” He says quietly, easing his hand behind Vash’s neck and pulling the zipper there down. “There you go.”
Vash sighs in relief, his back arching up off the bed as Wolfwood slips the top off of his shoulders.
He can’t help but let his eyes rove greedily over every inch of Vash’s exposed skin, tracing over old scars and metal pieces in his flesh. His fingers find the glove on his real arm, gently peeling it off and bringing his bare hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles and the jagged scar that runs across his skin there.
“Thank you.” Vash whispers, and he sounds so sweet, so deliriously genuine, that he pauses. Wolfwood thinks that his head just might start spinning, and he could almost think he was dreaming if Vash hadn't felt so vivid when they touched.
Wolfwood’s other hand rests on his navel, running over rough scar tissue absently, and he finds himself wanting to get his mouth on them. He wants to press his lips to every old wound and metal piece he can find, let Vash know his reverence without doubt. He wants to kneel and worship for hours, find every indent of his body and know that his fingers and lips have felt it.
Vash squirms but accepts the attention for a few more moments so that Wolfwood can have a semblance of his fill, face flushed with nervousness, an obvious semblance of insecurity in his features as Wolfwood just looks.
He decides to have mercy on him for now and reluctantly looks away.
He pets at Vash’s hip, leaning back down to begin wrestling his second boot off, shoving it under the bed so the massive things are out of the way when he’s done. Vash’s fingers tangle in his, trying to tug him closer, and Wolfwood easily follows his lead. Vash’s soft mouth meets his, a chaste kiss as he he breathes out quietly, his face open and gentle. The setting sun casts his body in an orange glow, reflecting off his pale skin. He’s the prettiest thing that Wolfwood’s ever seen, wrapped up in everything that Wolfwood doesn’t deserve.
“I’m going to have to go soon, Spikey.” He says when they slowly begin to part, Wolfwood’s body pressed against Vash’s front as he lays on top of him.
The reaction that Vash has to the words is nearly violent, his teary eyes going wide as he grips at Wolfwood’s shoulders, fingers digging into the back of his dress shirt.
His grip is shaky but desperate, “Please don’t leave me.” He cries, and there are tears already streaking down his face, his chest hitching. There’s panic in his glossed eyes, and Wolfwood suddenly realizes exactly how vulnerable a state Vash must be in right now, how much he isn’t quite in the right mind.
Wolfwood startles, one of his hands wrapping around Vash’s wrist, thumb resting on his quick pulse. “Hey, hey, I’m not going to be gone for long. I'm not leaving you here.” He reassures, his other hand smoothing over his waist, rubbing soothing circles into ragged scars. Vash pauses, staring at him with bleary eyes. Wolfwood holds his gaze, mouth pressing against the point of his wrist that he has in his hold.
Vash swallows, his face pinching and his gaze darting away, something like embarrassment crossing over his features. His cloudy eyes clear the slightest bit, falling out of his heat haze for a brief moment. “Sorry.” He rasps, “I’m sorry.” His hands abruptly pull back, but they twitch and shake like he doesn't actually want to. Wolfwood grabs both his wrists, pulling his arms over his shoulders and encouraging Vash to rest them there.
“Hey, we’ve been over this.” He says quietly, lips pressing a gentle kiss to the point of Vash’s jaw, “This is nothing that your pretty little head needs to feel guilty over. This isn’t easy for you, I know it isn’t.” And Vash surely wouldn’t have to admit to that for Wolfwood to guess as much. He can tell that he’s in pain, can tell that if Wolfwood wasn’t here then he would just let himself lay in bed alone and suffer for however long this takes to pass.
He kisses the corner of his mouth, a hand running through his soft blond hair, “I’m going to be right back, I promise. Just gonna get a few things to make this more comfortable for you, okay?” Vash’s arms fold more tightly over his shoulders, pulling him closer and burying his face against Wolfwood’s neck for just a few more moments of contact before they loosen, falling back.
There’s a miserable little look on Vash’s face, wet eyes and flushed cheeks, but he nods, his entire body quivering.
Wolfwood cups his nape, nosing into the crook of Vash’s throat and greedily inhaling the parts of his skin where his smell is the strongest, sweet and all encompassing. “I’m gonna take real good care of you. I’m not leaving.” He repeats and Vash finally relaxes, nodding again as Wolfwood pulls back.
He hauls ass out of the room, carefully locking it behind him before he’s practically rushing down the stairs. He wants to get back to his side just as fast as Vash wants him to, wants to comfort him and help him through whatever his biology has thrust upon him. It’s an instinct already embedded into his skin, a need to ease his suffering. God knows he’s already been through enough, knows that he could use a break.
He finds the closest shop, tugging extra blankets into his arms. They have enough double dollars to spare and Wolfwood is intent on making this experience more comfortable for Vash than usual, more pleasant than whatever he must be used to. He grabs something sweet as well, oat bars with chocolate chips that should be easy to eat, and even grabs a box of donuts for later, which Vash would surely be excited about once all of this is over. They have reserved water in their supplies already and Wolfwood grabs it from his bike on the way back inside, blankets hefted over his shoulder.
He trudges back up to their room, fumbling with the key and he nearly drops everything he has in his hands when he finally gets the door open and sees Vash.
He’s spread out on the bed, all the pillows and blankets he can find bundled at the headboard and curling around him. He lays in the cradle of them, completely naked and one of his hands between his legs. He has Wolfwood’s abandoned suit jacket held to his face, moans and whines muffled into the fabric as he desperately fingers himself. Wolfwood can hear it, the wet slide of his fingers and his needy whimpers, garbled renditions of Wolfwood’s name slipping from his mouth as his hips shift down onto his hand. His blond hair is a halo around his head, moonlight spilling onto his fair skin, soft patches of feathers already sprouted in little tufts all over his body. Wolfwood could truly think he was something holy in this dingy hotel, a small piece of heaven spread out and begging for him, with quivering thighs and a curved back. He doesn’t think that Vash has realized he’s even entered the room, too caught up in himself to care.
Wolfwood releases a shuddering breath, locking the door behind him and setting the food down on the bedside table.
“Hey, Needle-noggin.” He says quietly, and Vash’s head snaps towards him, eyes glossy and lips parted. “Got you some more blankets.” He tells him and his face lights up, baby blues wide and bright. He’s a sight like this, precious and beautiful and Wolfwood wants to get his hands on him as soon as possible, wants to hold him close and cradle him there for a long time. He toes off his shoes with little care, kicking them away from the bed.
He climbs onto the covers with Vash, looping an arm under him and lifting his body up, shoving one of the blankets behind his back so he has something softer to lay on. He uses the other to add to the barricade that Vash has made, a cocoon of warmth and comfort that holds just them and their heat. Vash sighs in satisfaction, arms wrapping around Wolfwood’s shoulders and pulling him closer. His hips are still moving, his soaked cunt rubbing over the fabric of Wolfwood’s clothed thigh, and Wolfwood’s mouth goes far too dry for him to even consider scolding him for it.
“I missed you.” He murmurs into Wolfwood’s shoulder, breath hot and wet where it fans out over the skin of his throat. His hips roll again, sliding his thick clit over Wolfwood’s suit pants, a slick drag that has Vash’s breath hitching. He moans, long and low as his neck cranes back and his fingers dig into Wolfwood’s loose shirt.
Wolfwood curses, mouth finding Vash’s own in a quick, sloppy kiss. Wolfwood could think he was already addicted to Vash’s entirety, his sweetness and scent and voice and the way he moves against him, their bodies slotting together. He could never think that this holy thing was made for him, but perhaps Wolfwood was made to kneel and worship, to pray at the altar of Vash’s skin and believe that he could be worthy enough for a taste.
“What do you need, angel?” He breathes, lips brushing against Vash’s, their faces still pressed so incredibly close.
“You.” Vash gasps, hands grasping at any part of Wolfwood that he can reach, flesh fingers trembling.
Wolfwood huffs a soft laugh, his hand sliding over Vash’s thigh, thumbing over the crease of his bent leg. “You might need to be a bit more specific, Spikey.” His knee shifts up further, giving Vash something to properly rut against, his pants leg already thoroughly ruined by Vash’s slick. He gasps, and Wolfwood can feel the flower of his cunt twitch, writhing petals over fabric.
“I need you inside. I feel so empty, please, please—”
Wolfwood kisses him, muffling Vash’s needy whine as his hand shifts down to trail through soft blond curls and over Vash’s swollen clit. He takes his time touching him, fingers rubbing across the length of it, soft and slick skin engorged and vivid pink. It’s longer than an average one, large and tapered at the end. It twitches under his finger pads, Vash’s hips insistently moving against Wolfwood’s hand for more friction, a constant stream of noises leaving his throat. Wolfwood’s fingers slowly travel lower, following the curl of soft and wet petals, the circular unfurl of Vash’s cunt. He can’t help but look, watching as slick drools out over the folds, already dripping down onto the bed.
He swallows, throat rough and dry, and finally allows two of his fingers to slip inside of his twitching hole. Vash’s back arches, choking on a moan and he immediately begins to fuck himself down onto the intrusion, desperately chasing more. The heel of Wolfwood’s palm grinds into his clit, sliding a third finger into Vash as he muffles soft cries into Wolfwood’s shoulder. Wolfwood’s mouth finds his collarbone, teeth sinking into his flesh as he yearns to leave marks in Vash’s skin.
He’s already covered in impressions left by others, by strangers and supposed friends alike, and Wolfwood’s will only be temporary, but it satisfies him in the moment. To see purple bloom onto his pale skin, to see his teeth marks left in his flesh and have Vash writhe and whine beneath him. He gets to have this right now, for however long that it may last, and it’s enough.
His free hand finds a patch of feathers on Vash’s thigh and he jolts, hole clenching and strong legs squeezing over Wolfwood’s hips. His fingers gently pet at silky down, fingernails scratching along the length of it. Vash sobs, his entire chest shuddering with it.
“Good?” He whispers and he carefully watches Vash’s face, his parted lips and eyes that shine with constant, overwhelmed tears. Spit pools at the corners of his mouth, threatening to curl down his chin, and his flush extends all the way down to his heaving chest.
Vash nods frantically, his breaths hitching uncontrollably as Wolfwood caresses his feathers and palms at his clit, his cunt nearly gushing with slick around his fingers.
He lays his hand flat against the feathers, sliding up over their entirety. He can see the muscles tighten in Vash’s navel, the way his back bows into the touch, the stutter of his breath. As if he’s never been touched before, shaking from hypersensitivity.
Wolfwood has a thought then that lodges stubbornly in his head, taking one feather between his thumb and finger and slowly stroking upwards. Vash gasps, the feathers ruffling and shifting, fluffing out and brushing over Wolfwood’s hand.
“No one has ever touched you like this, have they?” He can’t help but ask breathlessly, watching as Vash writhes and twitches beneath him.
Vash gasps and shakes his head, “No.” He whispers softly, teeth digging into his bottom lip, “Only you. Just you.”
It makes something in his gut tighten, molten heat like syrupy honey pooling in his stomach. He lets out a breath, rough and ragged. “Only me, huh?” And he could get addicted to that feeling, to that thought of offering Vash something new, something good and memorable and different. There’s so many things that Vash has lived through, Wolfwood knows, so many of them painful and awful, things that have left Vash scarred or changed.
But this— this he can offer him so easily; gentle hands and whispered words, fingers over precious downy and fair skin. He can give him just this, this worship and reverence gladly. His mouth closes over the beat of his pulse, thumping under the dart of his tongue, and Wolfwood continues to caress those soft feathers, continues to thrust his fingers into his welcoming cunt.
His lips trail down his skin, biting over pointed collarbones and tracing over old scars. He could stay like this for hours, tasting Vash’s skin, touching him and holding him like a delicate, perfect thing. He sucks his nipple into his mouth, tongue laving over the sensitive bud as it hardens, fingers curling into feathers and his cunt alike. Vash is arching into him, legs drawn up and quivering almost violently, jumping and hitching over Wolfwood’s hips.
“Nico.” He whines, high and drawn out as he desperately clutches at Wolfwood’s shoulders, clumsy fingers sliding over fabric and tugging him closer. Wolfwood lavishes attention onto his firm chest, feeling the way that Vash clenches around him, slick pooled into a large puddle beneath his pelvis. He kisses at the scars that he can reach, tongue tracing over raised, pink lines.
“Come on, angel.” He encourages him, lips and tongue kissing the long, jagged scar over one of his pecs. “You can come, pretty thing.”
Vash jolts at the praise, cupping Wolfwood’s neck as he tugs him forward into an open-mouthed kiss, hot and wet and impossibly slow, a slick slide of tongue and a glimpse of teeth. He can feel Vash’s breath, the sharp noises that catch in his throat, and then his sharp incisors accidentally catch on Wolfwood’s tongue and the taste of iron floods his mouth. He groans, teeth closing around Vash’s bottom lip, fingers shoving incessantly into his cunt as his hand closes around white feathers.
Wolfwood’s fingers continue to pump inside of him firmly, thumbnail running over the vein of one of his quivering feathers, and Vash is tensing, head tossed back as his mouth opens on a silent scream.
“Good.” He breathes, “So good, angel, come on.”
Vash sobs, voice trailing off into a broken whimper before he’s squirting, walls fluttering as his stomach is stained in white, back arching sharply up off of the bed. His thighs clamp down over Wolfwood’s sides, holding him close and keeping his fingers inside of him as his hips rock erratically into his hand. He’s gasping, harsh and loud, like they’re torn forcefully from his throat as he comes. Wolfwood fingers him through it, kissing his jaw and the corner of his open mouth, the side of his neck. Anywhere he can reach as Vash rides it out, trembling apart beneath him. His cunt squelches obscenely with every press of Wolfwood’s fingers, palm still grinding into his fattened clit, and it isn’t long before his entire body is quaking from oversensitivity.
“Keep going or stop?” He asks clearly and Vash looks at him with teary eyes as his fingers slow in their movement. He watches as Vash shudders, the hitch in his chest as he arches and writhes.
“Don’t stop.” He chokes out, hole clenching as he tries to get Wolfwood to move again, hands fisting into his dress shirt. “Please.”
It’s enough incentive for him to give Vash exactly what he wants.
Wolfwood holds him still with a hand on his waist, fingers thrusting against that spot inside of him that makes him jolt, fingers pressing in firmly, massaging his inner walls. Vash keens, breath catching and holding in his throat as he shakes, toes curling and the heels of his feet digging into the small of Wolfwood’s back.
“Could you come again, like this?” Wolfwood’s voice is low, his face hovering just above Vash’s. His palm rubs over his clit, fingers crooking inside of him.
Vash moans, teeth clenching around a muffled whimper, his hips stuttering so much he can’t even properly keep up with Wolfwood’s tempo anymore. Wolfwood kisses the hollow of his throat, taking thin skin between his teeth, scraping over his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
“Nick.” He breathes, thighs squeezing against his sides, “I can’t.”
Wolfwood hums, nosing at Vash’s jaw, “I think you can.” He whispers into fair skin, breathes out hot over Vash’s flesh and he shivers, “Sweet thing, be good for me.”
Vash lets out a trembling sob, and all he can do is shake as Wolfwood pulls him apart, fingers inside of him and a hand stroking over soft feathers. He twitches and twists both closer and further away from his touch, and Wolfwood leans up and properly bites at the crook of his shoulder, sharp canines sinking into flesh. Vash gasps, cunt clenching as he arches, and Wolfwood’s entire hand is drenched in his slick. Vash’s arms and legs lock around him, keeping him close as Wolfwood laps at the mark he’s left behind, stark indentations in pale skin. He wishes he could leave something permanent, something that Vash would carry with him after this, perhaps as proof that this ever happened at all, a reminder for when he’s long gone. But it’s a ridiculous hope, something fever-driven and desperate, born from how drunk he feels on Vash’s skin and the slick heat of his cunt.
His fingers press into Vash’s core, the thumb of his other hand sliding up and down a long feather on his upper thigh, and Vash’s eyes roll back, head thrown into a pillow and his mouth hanging open on wrenching sobs. He’s gasping, sharp and quick as his hole flutters around him, hands nearly tearing at the fabric of Wolfwood’s shirt.
“Ah—Nico. Nick, Nick—” he chants his name like a prayer and he makes it sound like something holy when it comes for his lips, something rapturous when it curls over his tongue. Wolfwood kisses the corner of Vash’s mouth, and his nose turns to nuzzle into his temple, breath fanning out hotly against his hair.
He rocks his fingers into Vash, several long strokes that reach deep inside of him as he shakes and shakes, body wracking with sobs as he’s overwhelmed and filled. Wolfwood wants to keep him like this for hours, pushing him over the edge again and again until he can’t think, numb with pleasure and aching from it. His fingers curve and curl inside of him, hitting that same spot and palm grinding into his twitching clit until he’s tensing, like a bow string going taut with pressure.
“Vash.” He sighs into his skin, like he’s on his knees and prostrating before his angel, his god, this beautiful thing worthy of worship and reverence.
And then Vash is coming again, the string snapping as his eyes go wide and tears curl down over his cheeks like holy water, choking on his breaths, and the petals of Vash’s cunt writhe, soaked with slick as he weakly squirts, small spurts of white that pool on his stomach and over Wolfwood’s fingers. Vash is left gasping, chest heaving as he twitches and shivers, hands clenching and unclenching into Wolfwood’s dress shirt.
He falls completely boneless into the sheets and blankets, laid out flat and breathing heavily, nosing at Wolfwood’s dark hair and temple. He twitches and jerks, oversensitive and he whines when Wolfwood’s fingers slip out of him. Wolfwood wipes his soaked hand on his already ruined pants, placing a delicate kiss over Vash’s fluttering eyelid.
“Good, you’re so good.” He kisses his cheekbone, right over his beauty mark, ”Pretty thing.” He breathes, and smiles sharply at the little noise that Vash makes, overwhelmed and pleased. He likes it a lot, being called something nice.
They lay like that for just a little while, their faces tucked carefully together as they breathe, Wolfwood’s hands petting absently up and down his sides. It’s quiet, peaceful, something they don’t often get to have, not in their lives. He can hear Vash’s softening breaths, his low purr and racing heart that never calms, always working quickly to run his body. He’s so warm this close, Wolfwood’s face tucked into his pale throat. He smells sweet and delicate but powerful, and Wolfwood mouths over his pulse point, inhaling greedy breaths of Vash’s scent.
“Do you feel any better?”
Vash swallows, nodding slowly, “It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.” He says quietly, shifting just slightly, “Just—just this is good for a little bit.” And he tucks himself even closer, arms crossed over Wolfwood’s shoulders as he pulls him tight against him.
Wolfwood allows it, lays on top of Vash and lets Vash’s fingers run through his dark hair, nails scratching gently at his scalp. Wolfwood is still hard and hot in his pants, but he pays it no mind, nosing into Vash neck and feeling precious feathers brushing up against his face.
He rolls over onto his side, taking Vash with him with an arm around his waist as they lay together, breathing in sync and slowly relaxing. Vash is like liquid in his arms, entirely pliant and boneless, completely satisfied for the moment. Something inside of him abated for now, and Wolfwood is just glad he doesn’t seem to be in pain any longer.
“Thank you.” Vash murmurs after several minutes of quiet, “For—for this. I know it’s…strange.” He laughs, something small and self-deprecating, but there is real hatred behind it, real guilt. A constant war that Vash is fighting with himself over exactly what he is.
Wolfwood pinches his hip, reveling in Vash’s yelp and knowing he didn’t actually hurt him. “Oh, quit it, you massive puppy.” Wolfwood looks into those supposed puppy eyes, wide and blue, “This ain’t so bad. Do you think me fucking you is really that much of a chore?”
Vash chokes on his own spit, a laugh bubbling in his throat that makes his entire face light up, still flushed and wonderfully blissed out. Wolfwood’s hand pets over the curve of his spine, carefully scratching at a patch of silky feathers there.
“Because it’s not. Get it through that thick, spiney head of yours.”
Vash huffs softly, their faces so close that he can feel the remnants of his breaths against his skin, can see the crinkle under the corners of his eyes when he smiles, the minute twitch of his pink lips.
“Okay, okay, I get it.” He says quietly into the mere inches of space between them, “But—no one has ever done this for me before.” His eyes dart away, “I just don’t like letting people—see.”
“See what?” Wolfwood murmurs, though he certainly has a few guesses as to what he means. His fingers are still petting over Vash’s feathers, he just had those same fingers in his alien cunt a few moments ago, and not to mention the scars that cover Vash’s body. They’re all things that make up Vash in Wolfwood’s head, irreplaceable things that he could never imagine differently.
But he hates that Vash has reason to be afraid of sharing himself like this, when putting pieces of his being into the hands of others is likely to leave him cracked and missing parts.
Vash smiles, something small that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’m sure you know.”
“Well, I like looking. I like looking a whole lot.” His hand ghosts over the plump flesh of Vash’s ass, grabbing the back of his thigh and hauling him closer as he hums, as if he were contemplating something. “And touching.”
Vash titters breathlessly, half a nervous giggle and half a shuddering moan. Wolfwood kisses the bridge of his nose, the apple of his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and Vash squirms, face hot and flushed. There are tears clinging to his lashes still, clumped and thick with moisture.
Vash sucks in a shaky breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he swallows, mouth parting to speak but never saying anything. The thigh over Wolfwood’s hip tightens, and Wolfwood can feel the slick drag of Vash’s cunt over the front of his pants, right over his hard, neglected cock. A rough moan punches out of his chest, instinctively thrusting forward into the friction without even thinking.
He can hear Vash gasp, his hips rolling in small, quick circles over the outline of his cock.
“Oh, oh.” He sucks in a harsh breath, catching on a pitched whine, “You haven’t come yet.”
Wolfwood groans, heat pooling in his gut as Vash’s hips don’t slow, cunt soaking the front of his pants with every pass of his fluttering petals.
“‘M sorry.” Vash slurs, breath hitching, and he sounds a little too wounded at the thought that he forgot to think about whether Wolfwood came or not. It’s both endearing and frustrating, as most things with Vash are.
“Fucking hell, Spikey, this is about you.”
Vash makes a small, displeased noise, “I want you to come.” He says, hot and breathy and one of his hands darts out to fist into the belt loops of Wolfwood’s pants, pulling him forward as they grind together.
Wolfwood feels like he could melt out of his own skin, blood searing and Vash’s body even warmer, an addicting heat that makes him want to bury himself inside of Vash, cradled in his ribs. He doesn’t want to leave this moment, rocking together, moving in tandem. He buries his face in Vash’s neck, breathing hot and ragged against his pale throat, muttering curses as he groans. His fingers clench into the meat of his thigh, holding him close and still as he grinds his clothed cock onto his dripping cunt, feeling the stuttering whine in Vash’s throat against his lips.
He thinks he could come like this even through several layers of clothes and with Vash’s bare cunt against him, would be just as happy to do so, but Vash puts a hand in his hair and urges his head up to look at him.
Wolfwood’s eyes meet hazy blue and Vash swallows, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “Can I suck you?”
Wolfwood chokes, brain short-circuiting for a moment as he just stares, mouth falling open. Vash leans forward, pressing hot kisses to his lips, breathing out softly.
“Please Nico. I want it. Please.” As if Vash is the one who needs to beg, like Wolfwood isn’t the one who should be kneeling and aching for him, looking for a touch from a heavenly being even when he knows that he’s not worthy of it.
“Fuck.” He growls, “Fuck, Vash, okay.”
Vash is immediately moving, rolling over so he’s on top of Wolfwood, perched on his cock. He rocks forward just a few times, Wolfwood’s shaky hands snapping around his hips, his head thrown back as he groans, Vash’s slick cunt sliding over his clothed dick. His pants are soaked through at this point, sticky at his knee and now over his crotch. He doubts he’s ever going to be able to wear them again, but he hardly cares about that right now, not with Vash on top of him, moaning and grinding down onto him.
Vash reaches for his shirt, hands working at his buttons. Wolfwood can hear him pop some off, threads snapping before he pushes his shirt off of his shoulders, and Wolfwood doesn’t care if he never even sees it again after today. He tosses it to the floor without even looking, his blue eyes wide and admiring as they roam over his dark skin. Vash immediately leans down, mouthing at his bare chest, lips catching and sucking on a dusky nipple. His hand cups the other, thumbing at the hardening bud as his watery eyes look up at him, soft and adoring. Wolfwood sighs quietly, hands resting on the back of Vash’s pale thighs, tracing over old scars and silk feathers. Vash bites a mark into his tan pec, teeth sharp and needy as he works at the skin. Wolfwood hopes that they’re visible tomorrow morning when he’s getting dressed, his collar always popped and his suit jacket open. He wants to be able to trace his eyes and fingers over the blooming purple and know that Vash had left it there.
But then Vash is shifting down, crawling in between Wolfwood’s legs, trembling hands running over his inner thighs, thumbing over the crease where they bend. He looks flushed and divine like this, cradled between his legs, twitching feathers fluttering over his skin. Moonlight spills onto his back from behind, haloing him in white, like something holy and beautiful.
He’s tugging at Wolfwood’s pants, clumsy fingers managing to force them open, jerking them down his legs insistently. Wolfwood aids him as much as he can, lifting his hips to get his underwear off until he’s finally bare, cock hard and leaking against his stomach. Vash breathes out, watery eyes darkening as he looks down at him.
His hand reaches out, curling a loose fist over his length and Wolfwood hisses, jaw clenching. Fuck, it feels good, so good to have this angel’s hands on him, careful and reverent. Vash strokes him for a few moments, bright eyes on Wolfwood’s face, darting over his expression as if he’s enraptured, wanting to take in every little detail that he can.
He moans, breathy and shaky when Vash thumbs at his slit, spreading precome over the head.
“Vash.” He breathes and he can see Vash shiver, as if just saying his name is enough to make him drip with need, as if Wolfwood were touching him rather than whispering into the heated air.
Vash’s grip tightens just slightly around him, stroking him in earnest now, and Wolfwood begins to thrust into his hand in time, teeth chewing on his bottom lip as he attempts to quiet himself. Vash thumbs at his head on every other upstroke, his other hand petting up and down his tense thigh.
“You look good like this.” Vash murmurs, and Wolfwood feels something tighten in his gut, heat spreading in his face and down his spine. He swallows and Vash leans against his knee, those adoring blue eyes on him, that hand still stroking him.
And then he’s leaning down, planting soft kisses on the soft skin of Wolfwood’s inner thigh as he goes. He stops at his pelvis, continuing to stroke him as he kisses around his cock, Wolfwood’s muscles tightening and jumping as he thrusts into each pump of Vash’s hand. He tongue at the skin, teeth taking flesh between them carefully, and Wolfwood hopes he leaves marks. Hope that they will be there for days, that he’ll be able to reach down and press against them and remember feeling like this, stuffed full with heat and knowing what an angel’s worship feels like.
And then Vash licks a long stripe up from his balls to his cockhead and he jerks, a moan tearing through his throat as Vash’s mouth closes around his slit.
“Fucking god, Spikey.”
Vash hums, kissing at his head like he were savoring it, tongue darting out to swipe in delicate, quick licks. Wolfwood already feels like his brain could melt out of his ears, looking down at Vash’s ducked head and feeling him touching him like this. His hair has long since gone limp from its usual spikes, hanging around his head in shaggy blond locks, and his skin has gained a permanent flush, a rosy pink that Wolfwood wants to taste.
Vash’s mouth finally closes around the head properly, sucking just the tip inside, and Wolfwood restrains himself from thrusting forward. He cups Vash’s nape with no other intention than just to hold him, fingers curling lightly into his hair. Vash’s tongue circles his head and baby blues flicker up to his as he moans, long fingers tightening just slightly over thick blond strands.
Vash strokes over what’s not currently in his mouth, his other hand petting at Wolfwood's tan skin, and Wolfwood focuses on not shoving his hips into the wet heat of Vash’s mouth. He moves slowly, taking just one more inch before his head raises again, tongue swirling over his leaking slit before he drops back down to the same spot, sucking and licking at the skin there. Wolfwood’s thighs are already shaking, his head thrown back as he pants harshly, trying not to blow his load before Vash can even really start. But he doesn’t want to rush him, and Wolfwood never thought that Vash sucking his dick would feel like a fucking religious experience, but it does.
He sinks lower, over half of Wolfwood’s cock resting in his mouth now as he bobs his head in earnest, humming and whimpering around his length like he’s been desperately waiting for this. The vibrations of it make his hips jump slightly, wheezing out a pathetic breath as he swallows, teeth clenched. He looks down, watching his cock disappear into Vash’s mouth, prosthetic hand wrapped around his base, and the sight nearly makes him come on the spot.
He lets out a ragged breath and over the slick sound of Vash’s mouth on him he can hear the wet shlick noise of Vash’s fingers pressing into his own cunt, desperately fingering himself as he sucks Wolfwood off, hips rocking down onto his hand.
Wolfwood’s hand tightens in Vash’s hair as he’s hit with a sudden realization, “You've been waiting for this.” He breathes and Vash’s watery eyes blink up at him, lashes clumped together. He sees the way the heel of his palm grinds into his clit just a little harder, can see his thighs clench and feel him swallow a moan around his cock. It makes him groan, thrusting up just once into Vash’s mouth. It makes Vash whine, quick and high in his throat, and he can see him dripping down onto the bed even from this angle.
“Fuck, how many times have you thought about this?”
Vash shudders, and tears are catching along the corner of his eyes, breaths harsh as they leave his nose. Wolfwood runs his hand through his hair, petting him and watching him shake, the way something clicks in his throat as he continues to work at Wolfwood’s dick. His fingers are still thrusting and curling into his own cunt, an obscene squelch that makes Wolfwood feel hot all over.
Vash’s prosthetic hand grips his hip and teary eyes blink up at him, needy and pleading. He urges him to thrust forward again, and with a careful roll of Wolfwood’s hips he does, gasping as his cock brushes the back of his throat. Vash moans around his stuffed mouth, pink lips spread over him, and Wolfwood wonders if he might just pass out before the night ends.
“Want me to fuck your mouth, angel?” He says breathlessly and Vash nods the best he can with a thick cock in his mouth, and he still manages to look eager, flushed and quivering with want. Wolfwood feels dizzy, as if he could trip over himself while laying down. His hips move in absentminded, slow circles, reveling in the cup of Vash’s tongue around him, the spit that gathers at the corner of his mouth and curls down his chin.
He pushes Vash’s sweaty bangs out of his face, a crooked smile pulling at his lips, “You’re precious like this. You really want it that bad? Want me to fuck your throat hoarse?”
Vash whines and Wolfwood keeps him on his cock with a firm hand, but it’s not unyielding. It would only take the slightest amount of real force from Vash to have Wolfwood immediately letting go, but he obediently stays still. That hazy look is back full force now, eyes lidded with pleasure and burning with heat. His prosthetic hand tightens around his hip, eyes fucked drunk and glassy as he begs for Wolfwood to give him what he wants.
And who is Wolfwood to deny anything from this creature of his worship?
“Tap my leg twice if you need me to stop, alright?” He gently pulls Vash off of his cock, shifting up onto his knees so he’ll have better leverage for what they’re about to do. Vash whines in disappointment but accepts the movement, fingers still curling into his drooling cunt.
Vash’s mouth hangs open, lips coated in saliva and precome, glistening a deep pink. He nods, breathing out a thick and dumb, “Uh-huh.”
Wolfwood snorts, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before he’s leading Vash’s head back down again, blond hair clenched between his fingers. Vash swallows, his prosthetic hand resting on his tan thigh as his face hovers over Wolfwood’s hard cock. He can feel Vash’s breath brush over the delicate, heated skin and he shivers, hips shifting forward. His cockhead bumps against Vash’s lips and he gratefully kisses the tip, sucking it into his warm mouth.
Wolfwood’s breath shudders as he just holds Vash’s head for now, letting him start off slow. His tongue swirls around the tip before he begins to sink down, moaning as his mouth is filled. The feathers on his face quiver and Wolfwood reaches for them, thumb sliding over the length of one. Vash shivers and glances up at him, pupils blown wide and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
“I’m gonna start now, okay?” He pets the dark hair at the back of Vash’s head, “But you can tap out at any time, got it?”
Vash hums in acknowledgment, hand squeezing over Wolfwood’s bent thigh as his eyes slip closed. Wolfwood swallows and carefully pulls Vash’s head back, his mouth a slick drag over his length until his lips catch just on the tip. And then he thrusts forward, cock sliding to the back of Vash’s throat. They both moan in unison, Wolfwood’s hand tightening in Vash’s hair. His other hand slips over Vash’s jaw as he cups his head, properly beginning to fuck into his open mouth.
Vash accepts it greedily, being used, his tongue lapping over his cock and gagging on every other shove against the back of his throat. He’s moaning and whimpering, fingers urgently working into his cunt, the only sounds in the room being their rough breaths and the squelch of Vash’s mouth and hole. Vash sucks and tongues at what he can, but mostly he just keeps his mouth pliant, allowing Wolfwood to do whatever he wants with him.
“Fuck.” Wolfwood curses, thumb caressing over Vash’s feathers and fingers tight in his hair, holding his head still as Vash lets him use him like a toy. He thrusts forward and lets the tip sit at the back of Vash’s throat for a second, feeling the way he swallows around it, breath hitching as he whines. He’s all the way down to the base, nose brushing against dark curls, and Wolfwood gasps.
“You’re so good.” He hisses, rolling his hips and letting his cock sit hard and heavy on Vash’s tongue, “So fucking perfect.”
Predictably, Vash whimpers at the praise, face wet with an onslaught of tears as he shakes. He sucks and swallows around Wolfwood’s cock, barely even gagging on the length of it anymore. The vibrations of his voice make Wolfwood twitch, a moan caught between his teeth as his hips move. He can feel something inside of him building quickly, a mounting heat that makes his gut feel tight. He shakes his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, looking down at Vash’s blissed out, flushed face.
His thumb brushes his bottom lip and he can feel every pass of his cock through his parted mouth, catching on strings of drool that drip down his chin.
“I’m close.” He breathes in warning, hips still rolling into Vash’s eager mouth. Bleary blue eyes blink up at him, hot and wanting. His hand squeezes over Wolfwood’s thigh, urging him forward.
Wolfwood speeds up, pace a little rougher, and Vash’s eyes squeeze shut around rolling tears. He moans, thick and muffled, humming around Wolfwood’s cock as it breaches the back of his throat.
“Inside?” Wolfwood chokes out, hips stuttering as the heat in his gut turns boiling, building and building until it’s on the brink of snapping. Vash hums desperately, holding Wolfwood close by the hip, asking him to stay. Wolfwood breathes out, ragged and broken as the head of his cock brushes Vash’s throat one last time.
And then he’s coming, thick spurts that Vash eagerly swallows, breathing out harshly through his nose. Wolfwood is gasping, a moan caught in his throat as his fingers tighten in Vash’s hair. He can feel Vash swallowing around him, humming in satisfaction against his cock. He doesn’t move even as Wolfwood’s hands loosen entirely on his head, continuing to suck at him until there’s nothing left, Wolfwood curling over him with sensitivity. Wolfwood gasps, high and strung out as he cups Vash’s nape, fingers trembling against his warm skin.
And then he finally pulls off, panting into the open air, tongue peaking out over his bottom lip. His face is wet and red and Wolfwood doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the sight, how gorgeous and open he looks right now. He thumbs at his chin, wiping away spit and come as he leans forward, catching his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s slow and languid, a wet, hot press as they just breathe against each other. Vash murmurs nonsensically, soft little noises as his lashes flutter, falling into Wolfwood’s chest bonelessly.
Wolfwood accepts his weight, sinking back down onto the bed with a long sigh, Vash crawling over him gratefully. He’s tall and heavy and there are a few places where metal digs into his skin, but Wolfwood doesn’t mind. He just keeps kissing him, nice and slow as they share heat, pressed this close together.
“Nick.” Vash breathes his name, just to say it, his eyes lidded as his head sinks down to Wolfwood’s shoulder. He nuzzles into the crook of his neck, sighing happily, lips brushing over tan skin. Wolfwood thinks he must finally be getting tired, coming four times already in one evening.
“Are you wanting to sleep?” Wolfwood murmurs, lips brushing over the top of Vash’s head. His fingers run through damp hair, scratching at his scalp.
Vash nods, nosing against the side of his throat. “Yeah. Until—until it gets bad again.”
“Just wake me up and I’ll help, alright?”
Vash makes a small noise, like he doesn’t like that thought, but Wolfwood squeezes his hip, jostling him slightly. “I mean it. Don’t just sit here in pain if I’m right here and can help you.”
He sighs, “Okay, I will.”
Wolfwood hums, arm wrapped firmly around Vash’s waist, and lets his eyes slip closed.
_______
Wolfwood wakes to desperate pants muffled into his shoulder, hot breaths damp over his skin. He’s confused for just a moment before he hears a wet noise, the sound of Vash’s fingers stuffed into his cunt, and he abruptly remembers why he’s here. His arm that’s still around Vash twitches up his back, fingers running over his ribs.
Vash whines, high and wrung out, and when Wolfwood tilts his head to try and look at his face it’s covered in tears, expression twisted in pain rather than pleasure.
“Vash.” He rasps, voice rough with sleep, “Angel, I told you to wake me up.” And usually he would have woken up much faster, light sleep interrupted easily by the smallest noises, but he’s found that around Vash his body relaxes far too much without his permission.
Vash startles, blinking up at him, face twisted with abject misery. “I know, I’m sorry.” He sobs, breaths hitching, and Wolfwood immediately goes to sooth him.
“It’s alright, you’re okay.” And he’s twisting over Vash, kneeling above him as his knees bracket his hips. One hand cups his face and the other replaces the fingers in his cunt with his own, pressing into his wet and open hole. Vash moans, back arching as he fucks himself onto Wolfwood’s hand. Wolfwood is quickly blinking away sleep, Vash’s scent and body already igniting something within him, fanning the flames in his gut.
But Vash still sobs, cunt clenching as he writhes, face pinched in pain.
“What’s wrong?”
Vash’s hands cover his face, “‘m’sorry.” He mutters, his breath shaking as his chest hitches sharply, muffled by his palms.
“No, none of that.” He takes Vash by the wrist, holding his knuckles to his chest. “Come on, angel, tell me what you want.”
Vash swallows, big blue eyes wet and wide, “Nick—Nick, I need more.” He sobs, hole clenching around Wolfwood’s fingers, legs bracketing his hips, “It’s not enough.”
Wolfwood noses at his throat, breath fanning over his ear as he huffs a gentle laugh, “You just want my cock? Is that it?”
“Yes.” Vash gasps sharply, and he can feel his walls flutter around his fingers, the way his hands come up to clench over his shoulders.
“Okay, okay, I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss into the side of Vash’s neck, mouth warm over his slick skin. His fingers slip out, and Vash gasps, tense and waiting for something more with teary eyes.
His hips sway forward, his hard cock brushing over Vash’s slick cunt and he groans, shifting forward until they’re grinding against each other, cockhead catching on the folds of Vash’s petals. Vash arches, mouth falling open on a hitching sob, his legs parting eagerly. His dick drags over his clit, aided by Vash’s copious slick, his hips shallowly thrusting up. He breathes out against Vash’s bared throat, mouthing at his skin as they both moan, sliding against each other.
Wolfwood’s hands grip at Vash’s thighs, fingers digging into muscled flesh as his head brushes Vash’s hole, feeling the way it clenches, dripping with slick. He spreads Vash’s legs, lines himself up, and finally, finally presses inside. Vash throws his head back, a sob scraping in his throat as his eyes roll, hands scrabbling at Wolfwood’s biceps as he holds his thighs apart.
Wolfwood moans, breaths trembling as Vash’s cunt easily accepts his length, soft and warm and wet inside, nearly scorching with its heat. “Fuck, fuck, angel.” He leans forward, absently mouthing at Vash’s chest as he just stays still for a moment, processing the sensation of being inside of him. He thinks he would be willing to beg Vash to stay like this, buried to hilt and surrounded by him, his scent and voice and his skin.
“You’re so perfect.” He breathes into Vash’s skin, teeth gently scraping over pale flesh, lips pressing against the thump of his heart and the rumble of the thick purr behind his ribs.
Vash whimpers at the praise, thighs quivering as his hips roll onto Wolfwood’s cock, urging him to move. Wolfwood groans and finally slips out till his head catches on Vash’s rim, before he pushes back in. Vash’s back arches harshly, crying out and legs tightening, pulling Wolfwood even closer.
“Nico—ah, Nick— ah—” his fingers clench into his shoulders as Wolfwood pulls back and thrusts back in, his mouth hanging open as he swiftly chokes on his words, chest heaving as he tries to meet Wolfwood’s pace, tears already building in the corners of his clear sky eyes.
“Feel so good.” He rambles into Vash’s throat, holding him close as he fucks him, deep and hard as his teeth catch greedily on delicate skin. “Pretty thing, just for me.”
Wolfwood’s breath catches at his own words, but Vash only moans, a tremulous sob deep in his chest as he bares his pale throat, one of his arms thrown over Wolfwood’s shoulders and keeping him pressed close. Wolfwood sighs and reaches for Vash’s clit, rubbing at the slick nub and listening to the hitch in Vash’s breath, feeling the way his thighs shake around him.
“Yours.” Vash slurs deliriously, “Just yours.”
He shudders with want, with the instinct to hold Vash close and have him. There’s a part of him that aches to own a piece of Heaven, to have this angel to himself, to reach out his sinning hands and grasp for a taste of divinity. And perhaps Wolfwood will always have this part of Vash all to himself, a special place in Vash’s being that’s just him, no matter how many other people that Vash carries with him.
He continues to thrust inside of that wet heat, already addicted to the slide of his cock in his open cunt. Vash is a mess of broken sounds, choking on Wolfwood’s name and whining, his entire body arched into him as he takes whatever Wolfwood gives him. He keeps a hand on Vash’s clit, working him in small, quick circles. He sobs, cunt gushing with slick, mouth open in drunk-hazed pleasure, drool running down his chin. He nearly sounds like he can’t breathe, gasping and writhing, head tossed back.
Wolfwood wants the image to be branded permanently inside of his head.
His eyes trace over the bruises on Vash’s neck and shoulder, a deep purple, marks that hopefully won’t fade for a good while. And if they do, then Wolfwood supposes he’ll just have to give Vash some new ones. He wants to lay claim on this gorgeous creature, carve his own place inside of him. Something so much more pleasant than all the other marks on his body.
“Harder.” Vash sucks in a thick breath, “Please, please, I need—”
“I’ve got you, angel, I’ve got you.” He mouths into Vash’s skin and his hips piston deeper, and Vash mewls, ankles locking behind the small of Wolfwood’s back. Wolfwood digs his fingers into a large patch of feathers on his thigh, Vash practically howling in surprise, his body tensing and jerking. Wolfwood continues to run his fingers through them, stroking and petting as Vash’s cries increase in volume, a hitching litany of wrung out sobs.
They must be loud, audible in the next door rooms, but Wolfwood doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if the whole damn hotel can hear, and his other hand keeps rubbing at Vash’s clit, thumbing the swollen nub in slow strokes, wringing out any noise he can get. Vash’s tears curl down his neck, dropping down onto the pillow, and there’s feathers on his cheekbones, shuddering and twitching. He’s gorgeous, holy and divine and crying for him, needy and desperate as they move together.
“‘S’good, yeah?” He breathes into the side of Vash’s throat, lips brushing white downy, “How’s it feel, pretty thing?”
“Full.” Vash slurs, his breath shuddering as drool pools in the corners of his mouth, “So good, Nico—Nick, mmh.”
Wolfwood rocks into him, teeth catching on pale skin as he leaves even more marks, patches of skin mottled in purple. Vash twists into his hold, their chests brushing as the arms around his broad shoulders keep him close. He’s shaking all over, nosing at Wolfwood’s temples as he garbles his name, hazed and delirious.
“Not a thought in your head right now, huh?” He teases, as if he isn’t molten with want, his entire body hot with it as he fills Vash’s slick cunt.
Vash only moans, hole clenching as his thighs tremble, hips hitching up as a whine catches in his throat. He’s breathing harder, whimpering into Wolfwood’s dark hair.
“Are you close?” He asks breathlessly, coal eyes flickering up to Vash’s face, slick gushing around his cock.
Vash nods frantically, not even able to speak, his mouth hanging open dumbly. Cute, Wolfwood’s mouth helpfully supplies as he kisses at his chin, the corner of his pink lips. He grips under Vash’s hips, hoisting him up and fucking him hard and deep, listening the high sob that wrenches from his throat, chest shuddering.
“Please, please, please—” He cries nonsensically, his arms shaking over Wolfwood’s shoulders as their faces brush, his mouth at the shell of his ear. His cunt clenches around him and Wolfwood groans, mouthing at Vash’s jaw as his own breaths hitch.
Vash is jumping and shuddering and Wolfwood knows that he’s so close, knows that he won’t need much more before he’s coming.
“Come on, Vash.” He gasps, “Sweet thing, you’re doing so good. Just let go.”
And that’s all it takes to make Vash sob, his back arching sharply off the bed as he squirts, cunt clenching around his cock, spurts painting his pale stomach and sticking to Wolfwood’s abdomen. He continues to fuck him through it, hips rocking into his fluttering hole as he whines and trembles. His hands scrabble at Wolfwood’s shoulders as he gasps, pelvis stuttering as he tries to move with his continued thrusts.
“Inside.”
“Hm?”
“Come—inside. Please.” Vash bites his bottom lip, eyes squinted with tears, “Wanna be full.” He whines and Wolfwood’s hips falter, a breath catching in his throat.
He gasps, hands squeezing over Vash’s strong thighs as he fucks him, fast and sloppy and desperate. Vash only moans, shaking and sensitive, breaths hitching as he repeats Wolfwood’s name like a mantra, like holy psalms on his tongue and hymns in his throat.
“Fuck.” He hisses and then he’s pressing deep into Vash’s cunt and coming inside, Vash locking his legs around him and keeping him close as he coats his inner walls in his come. His hips rock weakly, his face pressed into Vash’s shoulder as he shudders and moans. His hips continue to move for several moments until it becomes too much, his thighs trembling as he stutters to a stop.
Vash mewls, stretching out and satisfied as his lips brush the top of Wolfwood’s dark hair. Wolfwood pants into his skin, desperately trying to catch his breath, watching as feathers flutter and flatten in front of his face. He pets absently at the soft, white patches on Vash’s thighs. He can hear Vash’s heartbeat, the rumble of that low purr in his chest, and his eyes flutter closed. He’s pleasantly achy, muscles worked through and heavy. He thinks he could fall asleep again, mind slowing down to a warm, pleasure-filled halt.
And then Vash squirms insistently beneath him, a quiet whine caught in his chest.
He blinks his eyes open, looking up at Vash, whose face is pinched, lip sucked under his teeth.
Wolfwood huffs a short laugh, “You need more, pretty thing?” He says breathlessly, and Vash looks at him, eyes shining.
Reluctantly, he nods, as if he doesn’t quite want to admit it.
Wolfwood snorts, “Alright, alright.” He grabs at Vash’s hips, “Turn over this time?”
Eagerly, Vash begins shifting, laying on his stomach when Wolfwood pulls out for just a moment. Immediately, come oozes out of his hole, sliding down into his folds. Wolfwood shivers, heat crawling across his spine as he uses his fingers to push it back inside, hearing the hitch of Vash’s breath as his shoulders tremble.
“So fucking pretty.”
Vash whimpers, head turning into the pillow, “Nico, I need you.” His hips sway, propped up on his knees and brushing back against Wolfwood’s cock.
Wolfwood swallows and allows his dick to slip back inside, still just slightly oversensitive, but Vash sobs with pleasure, overcome with contentment. His hands grip Vash’s hips as he begins to thrust further inside, Vash’s hole obscenely slick, wet and hot with come. Wolfwood groans, shaky and catching in his throat as he rocks into him.
His palms run over his spine, reverently tracing jagged scars and metal as he leans down. He bites across Vash’s shoulders, fucking into him as he muffles sobs into the pillow under his head, shaking all over with need. He inhales Vash’s scent, perfect and sweet and soft, heat pooling in his gut. He reaches around his body to caress at Vash’s clit, circling it in slow strokes as Vash chokes, cunt clenching around him.
He’s hot and sensitive and they’re both trembling against each other, gasping and moaning as they rock in tandem. Woldwood’s teeth clamp over his nape and Vash nearly screams into the fabric of the pillow, going boneless as he slips all the way down to the bed, knees sliding out from under him. Wolfwood’s fingers stay on his clit, trapped between the mattress and his body. His other hand grips over his hip, holding him as he continues to fuck into his cunt, kissing at the deep teeth marks left on the back of Vash’s neck. He’s shuddering, whining and whimpering and Wolfwood doubts it’ll take much longer for him to come again, knows that it won’t be long before he comes again himself.
He releases a long breath, “Want me to fill you up again?” He murmurs into his heated skin, kissing at ragged flesh.
Vash nods desperately, head turning out of the pillow he had shoved over his face. His mouth is open on loud pants, lips glossy with spit.
“Could keep you like this for hours.” He rambles, feeling like his head was full of cotton, “Stuffed on my cock, fucked stupid. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pretty boy?”
Vash sobs, high and pitched in his throat and he swivels his hips back onto Wolfwood’s cock, head craned back as he hugs the pillow to his chest.
Wolfwood’s hand slides up, cupping his throat, not choking him but holding him carefully and firmly in his palm. Vash gasps, eyes snapping open as he drips and clenches around Wolfwood’s cock. His shaking fingers raise to press over Wolfwood’s hand, keeping it there as he fucks into him. He can feel the vibrations of Vash’s voice as he moans, swallowing around thick sobs as his thighs quake, cunt fluttering around his length.
He squeezes just slightly, not enough to cut off his air or hurt him, but it’s enough for Vash to go limp, leaning into his hold. He whines, soft and low as he rock back into Wolfwood’s thrusts, fingers wrapped around Wolfwood’s wrists. “Ah, ah—Nick. S’good, so good, mmh. More, please, please—”
Wolfwood uses his knee to knock Vash’s legs further apart, holding him down and pistoning into his cunt, fucking him hard and deep as he sobs, fingers tightening over his wrist. He’s gasping, throat working against Wolfwood’s palm as he chokes out his name, tears pooling against the hand wrapped around his neck—
And then he tenses, throat bobbing against Wolfwood’s palm as he comes, mouth parted around a sob that cracks, catching in his chest as he shakes and cries. Wolfwood fucks into him desperately, face buried into his shoulder as he gasps and shudders until he’s coming inside of Vash again, pumping him full until come drips out of his hole, sliding over his unfurled petals.
He slumps against Vash’s back, breathing heavily into his spine, thumb on the point of his jaw and his other hand moving away from Vash’s clit, laying flat against his navel instead. They lay there and breathe for several moments, and Wolfwood slips out of Vash with a wet sound, come drooling out of cunt as he squirms, moaning softly.
Wolfwood lays next to him, fingers petting over white feathers, scratching at them gently. He meets Vash’s watery gaze, blue eyes hazy and fucked drunk. He shifts onto his side, fingers scrabbling at Wolfwood's shoulders, pulling him close.
“You should drink something, try to eat.” Wolfwood murmurs, lips brushing blonde hair, hand still stroking over white plumage.
Vash whines quietly and Wolfwood snorts, reaching for one of their canteens and urging Vash to drink from it. He reluctantly lets Wolfwood tilt it into his mouth, taking slow swallows as his fingers brush Wolfwood’s wrist.
“Hungry?” He asks and Vash shakes his head, wiping water on the back of his head.
“Not yet.”
Wolfwood leans in to kiss him, just to feel his lips again, and Vash hums, nearly a purr. He responds immediately, an easy press that holds no urgency, almost gentle. They both sigh, tongues brushing, warm and wet and lazy. He cups the back of his neck, nails scratching over feathers before digging into the teeth marks he had left earlier, pressing into the indentions. Vash moans into his mouth, hips twitching forward, soaked cunt brushing against a tan thigh.
“Do you want to come again?” He murmurs and he hears Vash’s breath hitch, eyes bright and eager. He’s still so incredibly hot to the touch, flushed and heated all over.
“If—if you’re not too tired to go again.” His head ducks slightly and Wolfwood tilts his chin back up.
“I’ll make you come as much as you need to, angel, don’t get shy on me now.”
Vash smiles around a small huff and Wolfwood returns it with one of his one as he rolls over onto his back. Vash looks at him curiously, bottom lip caught between sharp white teeth.
He pats at Vash’s hip, “You can do the work this time, come on.” He teases and Vash eagerly crawls over him, knees bracketing his hips as he straddles him. He looks down at Wolfwood with wide eyes, blue and bright and still so achingly admiring. It makes something in him tighten, an almost painful clench.
Wolfwood rests his hands on scarred, pale thighs as Vash reaches behind him, taking Wolfwood’s cock in hand and guiding it towards his entrance. It pops into his hole easily, already dripping with slick and come. They moan in unison as he sinks down, hands resting on Wolfwood’s pillowy chest. Vash groans, head thrown back as his hips move in small, teasing circles.
Wolfwood hisses, fingers digging into Vash’s skin, leaving little crescent moons with his nails.
“Vash.” He grunts as he just continues to rock shallowly, barely moving but it’s still enough on his oversensitive cock, his skin already scorching with arousal, burning from the inside out with pleasure. Vash starts off slow, lifting himself only halfway up off his cock before dropping back down. But it’s still deliriously good and Wolfwood can’t help but moan, fingers clenched into Vash’s tense thighs.
His hands pet Wolfwood's chest, running through hair and thumbing at his nipples. His bleary eyes are open and intent on watching him, mouth parted around his soft breaths. He’s a vision, mounted on top of him, feathers shining and taking his pleasure in slow, slick drags over his cock. Wolfwood’s hand finds Vash’s clit, thumbing at the elongated nub as Vash jolts, thrusting into the touch.
“Oh—” his breath hitches and he raises almost all the way off of Wolfwood’s cock before he sinks back down. Wolfwood gasps sharply, hand clenching in white downy as Vash shudders and tightens around him, his fingers digging into the skin of his pecs.
His pace speeds up, rising and falling on Wolfwood’s cock as he bounces on top of him. Wolfwood grips his thighs, all air in his lungs leaving him in one fell swoop. His hands are shaking, his thighs tending with every pass of Vash’s scorching cunt, absolutely dripping with slick.
“Fuck.” He nearly wheezes, “Vash, Vash—”
Vash whines, high in his throat as he fucks himself on Wolfwood’s dick, thighs flexing and shaking as they clench against his sides. He leans forward, bowing over Wolfwood as he moves himself up and down, Wolfwood’s thumb still rubbing over his clit. He uses his other hand to help Vash keep a steady rhythm, gripping his thigh and taking some of his weight. His arms are already trembling against Wolfwood’s chest, cunt fluttering as he sobs, tears curling over his lips and chin.
“Nico.” He sighs, eyes slipping shut, “It feels so good. You feel—” his breath hitches on a whine, his back bowing as his mouth falls open.
Wolfwood’s presses at his swollen clit, “There you go, fuck. So pretty, angel, I wanna see you come.” Vash chokes on a whimper, gushing with slick as he rides Wolfwood, cunt tightening around him—
And then great, big wings sprout from his back as he comes for a final time, squirting on Wolfwood’s stomach as the wings spread out behind him. Vash is sobbing, feathers tense and stretched, fluffed over his face and arms and legs, patches all over his skin that quiver through his orgasm. He whines and moans as he continues to bounce on Wolfwood’s cock until he’s coming too, filling Vash up even more, overstuffed with come that hardly even fits. Wolfwood scratches at his thighs as his head is tossed back, shuddering as his breaths catch and hitch in his throat.
He holds Vash through it, shivering as Vash catches his breath atop him, eyes closed and lips glossy and parted, bitten raw. Wolfwood squeezes his hips and Vash rises off his cock, Wolfwood’s come dripping down his thigh as he climbs off of him.
He sinks bonelessly to the bed, wings tucking around them both as he breathes, shivering as he curls into Wolfwood’s side. It’s warm, a comforting weight spreading across him, soft as silk. It feels good, laying close to home, covered in his scent and surrounded by him. It makes Wolfwood swallow, his chest tightening with something he doesn’t quite want to name.
Wolfwood looks over at Vash, trying to keep his eyes open, “Good?” He murmurs and Vash’s head tilts up.
“A lot better than just good.”
Wolfwood snorts, resting a hand in one of his wings, unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch. “Is it…over?” He asks carefully, petting over soft secondaries.
Vash buries his face in his pillow, “The worst of it is, yeah.” He peeks over at Wolfwood, looking a bit like he wishes he could hide his face, “Thank you, again. You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
Wolfwood huffs, “It was hardly difficult, Spikey.” He leans closer, lips brushing over his cheek, “I would have fucked you without your weird Plant bullshit.”
Vash laughs, one of his arms slinging over Wolfwood’s waist, and he looks beautiful like that, eyes bright and crinkling in the corners.
“Well, you’re the first one to ever help me with this.” He says quietly, “So, thank you.”
Wolfwood breathes out quietly and leans forward to kiss him.
“I’ll help you however many times you need it.”
And it’s a promise.