Archive of Our Own ^beta

He was back Home. Brad sat in front of him hmm-ing and growling about all the damage done to Vash's arm. Wolfwood stood in the corner, watching, silent and still as a shadow plastered on the wall.
"Really did a number on it this time, take me at least a couple days to fix."
"Sorry Brad." Vash chuckled nervously. He was sorry, genuinely.
"Whatever, ya punk." Despite his tone Brad looked up to make eye contact with the blond, a heads up before disconnecting the nerves from the anchor point.
A small high-pitched sound of discomfort made it past his lips before his teeth clamped down on the rest.
Brad stood quickly, already mostly focused on his continuing diagnostics. He glanced back quickly, "In the meantime, you get some rest." Before leaving the room, he paused, looking pointedly at Wolfwood. "Don't cause any trouble. Hmph." With that he left, hurrying to his own lab full of tools and whirring machines.
Vash sat on the end of the bed just as he had been left. His black shirt was snug to his frame, now unbalanced by the loss of his left arm. "So, uh, guess we'll be here a bit." There was an awkwardness in the air, it hung heavy and seemed to render his attempt at casual conversation completely ineffective.
His small group of travel companions had seen him in the plant room... seen the distinctive glowing pattern across his skin. Vash didn't so much actively try to hide his nature... but it also wasn't something he had ever intended to reveal. Now being seen, having the other gunman know that he was a plant, gave him a quiet collar of anxiety. It choked him.
There was a second weight on his mind. Nicholas the Punisher... it hadn't exactly been a shock to learn that Wolfwood was one of Knives's men, not really. Vash hadn't anticipated that the other would actually be that close to his brother. His own bright eyes were stopped short by the dark wall of the other man's sunglasses.

"Looks that way."

Wolfwood's tone offered no comfort. It arrived like a displeased sigh and fed the anxiety that Vash was mentally manifesting. Bluegreen eyes lingered in sun-stained shades while awaiting further commentary. When none came, he turned his face from things unsaid and proceeded to survey the dorm's sterile decor.

"So."

He inquired while rocking free from his corner, "This is where you grew up, huh?" He inspected the room through absent sweeps of his hand, fingers running along abstract waves of metal and rimming impossibly white resin. The Punisher prowled down the left side of Vash's bed while noting a lack of personal effects. "Must have been a boring childhood."

It was a heavy silence, and Vash was glad when Wolfwood finally broke it. Bluegreen eyes followed the other man around his space, noting how the other poked and prodded - trying to gain anything he could from the contents of his room. "Hah" again a nervous laugh, "Not really. They took good care of me; I just never was the type to collect a bunch of stuff." He figured the priest would also understand. With the practically nomadic lifestyle they both lead the less you had to carry the better.
"Luida will be showing Meryl and Roberto around a while, plenty of things to see." He cocked his head to the side, blond hair falling into his face. "If you want, I can help you meet up with them...?" Vash didn't know what to do. Even though they honestly weren't that different in height or build, with him sitting and looking up at the dark-skinned man the other felt larger. Almost oppressive. He stood up suddenly, putting him back on level ground with Wolfwood. "You can leave that here, too." The remaining hand gesturing towards the large cross, wrapped up and still leaning against the wall.
The blond could avoid bullets with ease, he was less elegant when it came to avoiding hard conversations.

He turned from prodding at a wall of embedded cabinets. They weren't going to open, though he was sure that they could.
"Whats'a matter? Ain't allowed to have a boy in your room?"
Vash's discomfort tempted teasing. Wolfwood swiveled to shove his companion's unsuspecting shoulder. In doing so, his fingers swept across Vash's chest. There was no mistaking the edging of repair beneath his shirt. Scars and medical inserts could not be concealed by something as thin as cotton.
Wolfwood recoiled. He was exercising discretion because there was no way of knowing what ached and what didn’t. The offending fingers regrouped to point distantly at Vash's person.
"The only reason I'm here is to watch you. I ain't interested in the tour. If you wanna do something for me, rest. That's what everyone wants you to do. Damned if I'm going to be responsible for you not doing it."

Both the barbed words and the slight jostle prompted an embarrassed dusting of red on the wanted man's cheeks. The withdrawal of Wolfwood's hand was sudden, as though the man had been burnt. A moment of hurt came over Vash, just a moment though. Was the other disgusted by his body, or by his species...? He didn't think they were to the point of casual physical contact either, so maybe it was just that. There was no way to know. The blond's expression betrayed him for only a moment before it returned to his usual half-hearted smile.
"Brad always says that, it's not-" he felt more than saw the glare leveled at him. "Uh, well..." Vash lowered back down to the bed, seeming to wilt. "Would you at least sit down then...?" At least if Wolfwood was in the chair across from his bed there wouldn't be the constant need to look up.

Vash was an open book. Wolfwood could pretend to miss his cues. He could blink away from a blush and fail to mention a flinch as some obscure form of courtesy, but he couldn't unsee the subtleties that leant to Vash's likeability.
Nick had tried to snub out his growing fondness, but that was proving to be impossible. He found himself appreciating the assignment he'd been given; wanting to protect and aid with a passion that went beyond obligation.
He planted himself on the bed, feigning obliviousness to guest etiquette. Wolfwood's requirements for personal space were small. His leg was perfectly comfortable against the length of his companion's. He sat with his knees splayed wide and bent forward while retrieving a pack of cigarettes from his suit jacket.
"This better?"
He was good with his hands; a magician who had mastered the art of making a cigarette magically appear between his teeth. His fingers twirled the stick into place before Vash could protest. He cupped a hand to the side of his mouth, habitually concealing the click-click-click of his lighter.

Vash blinked twice fast, frankly surprised at how readily the other encroached on both his person and his bed. Guess they were on the casual touching level, at least on Wolfwood's scale. The independent himself had never had a relationship like that since his childhood with Rem and Nai.. Knives. The blond didn't know how to feel.
There was no time to even start trying to stop the black clad man from taking part in his characteristic vice. The smell of tobacco was soon evident. The blond found himself stuck in place, being unsure of his impulse to pull away instead paralyzed him, he didn't want to offend. "Uh.. yeah." Vash swallowed hard, "I don't really have any games or cards in here." A hollow chuckle accompanied his attempt at a casual veneer.

Wolfwood exhaled his first breath of nicotine before turning to regard Vash fully. His dark glasses leant an air of anonymity to the incredulity painting his face.
"You saying you wanna play a game, needle noggin?"

They sat shoulder to shoulder, Wolfwood on the side of his missing arm. Vash could feel the subtle movement of the expulsion of smoke. The priest's words seemed to release him from his self-imposed stillness. The blond put his right arm behind him and scooted rearward with an unbalanced motion, till his back rested against the pillow and headboard. Long legs drew closer to his body, crossing at the ankles while his knees stayed down. The small unintentional barrier created by his limbs was enough. Thin lips pursed for a moment, eyebrows slanting slightly up in confusion. "You want to just sit quietly?" Vash shook his head quickly. "I can show you another room. Everybody's still asleep, so there's a lot."

He watched the other retreat, realizing only after the fact that his behavior had been a catalyst for the distance between them. Wolfwood eased his attention back to the room ahead, granting Vash respite from his scrutiny.
He took a long drag from his cigarette and left its length between his lips in order to shrug free of his jacket. His answer rested in his actions. He had no intention of leaving. He would make himself comfortable at the foot of Vash's bed.
Wolfwood hunched over his knees once his coat had crumpled against the back of his pelvis. His elbows propped themselves on either thigh. Eventually, he balanced his cigarette back between his fingers and signed out his smokey resolve.
"If you can't sit quietly, tell me a story."
He resumed his words with newfound softness, mulling over each syllable as though he were afraid to be overhead. Vash made his surrender possible by being out of view. It was easier to speak candidly when the other's reaction could not be seen.

Aqua eyes practically drilled a hole in Wolfwood's shoulders. Vash couldn't help but think of a dog laying at the foot of the bed... but there was a wolf in his room. He trusted the dark man of course, but he didn't doubt the sharpness of his fangs. It was almost as if concealing his face made it easier for the other to be delicate, Vash took in the change in the other's countenance and did his best to match it. Gray smoke drifted lazily toward the ceiling. "A story?"

"Yeah," His confirmation comes, raspy and cool. Like he's about to command a jazz solo. "Tell me one about Plants." Another exhale. He distracts himself from Vash's sudden stillness by focusing on the smoke he's produced. He has to, because he can feel the mattress echo fear in the form of stiffness. But this conversation is only fair, right? Vash had discovered his identity- and Wolfwood prefers to play on even ground.

For just a second it felt like his heart was in his throat, and suddenly looking at Wolfwood seemed more difficult as he spoke. Vash's attention drifted to the wall. "Well, uh, plants are man-made. They basically exist in two dimensions, pulling energy from the other one over to this one to mak-"

"-Do those patterns cover your entire body?"
Wolfwood cut to the point. He wasn't capable of small talk. Wasted words made him feel like wasted water, circling the drain. His life was a precious commodity. He didn't have enough of it left to play the kind of game Vash was dealing.

He didn't turn to face his partner. Doing so would have added an unnecessary sharpness to an already penetrating question and Nicholas lacked time, not sympathy. Vash had swiveled from saving the Sandsteamer like a man condemned, ashamed of his glow. Guilty of lying by omission. Wolfwood could relate to the latter.

"Yes." The response came out in a higher pitch than normal. Vash wasn't used to talking about his body beyond bullet holes. His hand rose up to scratch at the side of his head, soft blond hair welcoming the nervous movement.
Vash tried to tap into whatever personal bravery he had. Put a gun in his face and he was absolutely cool, but this was unexplored territory. "I'm an independent plant. They found us by the other plant pods. We can exist outside of the containers." A heavy pause was allowed to linger for a moment. "Nai and me."

Wolfwood nodded slowly. There was nothing astonishing about the information being received. He knew-- maybe not everything, but enough. Except,
"Nai? You mean Knives."
It wasn't a correction as much as an attempt to verify. Because everything would feel better if there'd been some kind of mistake. It was too hard to believe that the man behind him was the brother of his oppressive employer. The resemblance was there, in Vash's fairness, his swiftness, his freckle, but.
Everything else was all wrong.

He nodded, but looked back to Wolfwood who still had his back towards him. "Yeah. Knives." They were only on the SEEDS ship together for about 2 years, but since it was from his birth Rem and Nai had been his whole world. "We're twins. I mean, you know that." A sigh escaped, betraying his attempt at casualness. "He's a proper plant, he can produce anything he wants. He can live without food or water." That piece of inferiority held fast to his heart. "If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty much human - I eat, drink, sleep. ...I can't make anything." At least from an initial glance, his secret wasn't obvious. As long as he didn't stick around anywhere or anyone for too long.

"You're anything but human." Wolfwood peeked over his shoulder, exposing part of his profile and all of his interest. His voice did not rise. He kept it smooth; weighed it down with conviction and sanded its edges with acceptance.
He planted his dwindling cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sank his palms into the mattress. They gave him a means of motion. He twisted while lifting one knee to the bed.
"Don't worry. Neither am I."
Crawling was the best way to traverse a mattress, but the worst way to confess an ominous fact. Wolfwood did not consider his folly while slinking up the length of the bed. He was too eager to investigate.
"Let me see the rest of you."

The tone of the priest's voice was just as soft as before, but the words themselves immediately pushed a sharp sense of rejection through his heart. It hurt to hear them. He felt like his stomach dropped through the floor.
Watery eyes saw Wolfwood turn, before moving away quickly. The shift of the bed and the increasingly pungent odor of smoke heralded the dark man's approach. Vash's face held an expression of confusion before switching quickly to a red-tinted mix of shock and embarrassment. Legs uncrossed only to bend and move backways, a mate-less hand raised. "See the re- what?" It amazed the plant how fearlessly the imposing figure moved towards him. Vash felt the victim of sudden scrutiny, words babbled from his lips. "Uh, I don't think I'm ready for that. Ya know we just met-” His voice shook too much for the attempt at humor to seem anything more than the deflection it was.

"I'm not asking you for a date."
A date would have been better; more appropriate by the standards of many, but Wolfwood didn't seem to recognize the absurdity of his request while slinking into Vash's personal space. His dominant hand bloomed, palm-down, between his target's timid feet. He leaned into its claim on the mattress. His free hand followed up by pinching the edge of Vash's turtleneck.
"Take off your clothes."

Vash felt his heart rate increase, anxiety pushing his blood to rush faster. "Look, Wolfwood," the words were spoken in a tone that could only be described as meek. His gaze returned to the other man's face, getting as good of eye contact as he could through the wall of shaded glass. While the other moved closer, his own hand extended till just the tips of his fingers rested against the Punisher's chest. His weak resistance landed on the wrinkled dress shirt, avoiding the flesh the was always so readily available. "My body... it's not a nice thing to see. You'd be better off without that."

His touch was lighter than a breeze. Each fingertip barely dented the flow of Wolfwood's shirt. Nick was held at bay by Vash's visual cues rather than the hand that had been placed as a boundary. He paused for huddled shoulders and soft pleas; for the fact that his companion was truly threatened by curiosity.
Wolfwood's pinch drifted from the other's collar to retire his cigarette. It was finished, having burned down to its filter during the course of their conversation. He bent to smear its embers on the bed's metal frame.
Smoking was a 'filthy habit' and a general insult to the self-respecting masses. That was part of its appeal. No one was going to tell him what he could and couldn't do...or what he was better off without. "Lord," He breathed decisively while turning back to Vash with lifted hands. "Forgive us our trespasses." His grip darted to gather the bottom of Vash's shirt. They were more like claws than the digits of a man; all at once stern and swift and steady.

The respite was accepted with assumed salvation as the cigarette met its end. Until Wolfwood's hands, warm and too quick, lifted the thin shield of Vash's shirt. A surprised yelp left the smaller of the two. His single hand completely unable to provide the defense he attempted. The blond kept his prosthetic on at all times, only here at Home when it was gone for maintenance did he remember the vulnerability his violent amputation had left him with. He gripped at the intruding wrist he could reach, but his chest was open to the priest's view. Trespass indeed.
Calling Vash 'scarred' seemed an absolute understatement, it didn't even approach the expanse of 150 years of damage. Scars from bullets, knives, and burns. Places where the flesh had just been gouged out, leaving shallow valleys of dark puckered tissue in their wake. Plastic and metal implants littered his form. Hardly a single patch of skin had been left untouched by some sort of stitch or suture.
The blond felt his face go as red as his coat. The air in his lungs refused to be made into useful words. What would he say anyways...? "...sorry..." Embarrassment and shame overtook Vash.

Wolfwood's trespass had been playful (to the extent that blatant harassment could be.) He had flashed the beginnings of a sharp grin. His hands had been careful not to scrape against Vash's flesh while taking control of his top. A laugh had escaped him, as it would any boy enthralled with roughhousing. He had no way of knowing just how sobering the reveal would be until it was too late.

Vash's apology echoed weakly beneath the shock of discovery. His body was a map of costly mistakes. There was no space to rest one's eyes, for every inch had been crossed by suffering. Wolfwood's shoulders waned from their working height. His dominant hand had pulled Vash's shirt to form a pointed rooftop above his abdomen, but its resolve wilted as he relinquished his role as an aggressor.

He needed to confirm what he was seeing without his vision being obscured by shades. Wolfwood shifted to prop his sunglasses atop his head. Their frame aggravated his hair, forcing dark tufts to stand at attention against their tinted glass. Removing them was a double-edged sword. He could take in every detail in Vash's brightly lit room, but his expression would be obvious while doing so.

Pity knitted his brows together and threaded them towards his bangs. His eyes held an opaque sadness. They were like a pair of bottomless pits that would swallow up whoever dared to explore their color. Light could not touch them. It could only cross them by skimming over the crystal lens that protected their depths.

"Oh, Blondie..."

Pity was an expression that Vash knew well, he had seen it on too many faces. He's learned to avoid it, making sure to do everything in his power to prevent it over the last century that he had wondered No Man's Land. Still... it hurt to see. It always hurt, but more so in eyes he had come to trust. The meager resistance his singular hand had put up fell to the bed beneath them. ".... I told you, it's not something nice to see." The words came out quietly yet held such a tone of resignation as to be undeniably firm. Aqua eyes moved back to Wolfwood's own face, now unobscured since the start of their boyish quarrel. "It's like that, all over." This was usually more than enough. The wreckage of human shape that the Stampede lived in was such a shock to the average eyes that no one dared, or bothered, to look for more. The mess of damage had, in a strange way, protected his body from more intimate examination.

It was hard to picture the entirety of Vash's body being covered by trauma. Not hard to believe, but hard to picture (and a picture was exactly what Wolfwood wanted).

His eyes darted up to meet melancholic blue. Their stare had been sharpened by a level of determination that Vash had every right to dread. They moved from his face to the metal cuff of his amputation. The contemplation that occurred there would seal Vash's fate.

Wolfwood shifted without warning. His hands continued their prior ascension toward the ceiling, insisting that Vash's shirt rise with them. Soon fabric was sliding up and over blonde hair, punctuated only by a daft "Alleyoop!" from Wolfwood.

Vash found himself complying, the act of being undressed like this reminded him of being a kid. Aside from the man between his legs, nothing childish there. The blond felt like a spectacle as Wolfwood took in the wealth of damage. The panic returned as dark eyes drifted toward his pants. "Wolfw- wait!" Again he reached out to grab the priest's wrist. "Look, I'm not-" He gulped, the nervous energy trapped in his body made turquoise eyes dart around. From the glasses now perched on dark hair, to a dress shirt clad shoulder. "... plants are bisexual." He quashed the incoming retort. "-not like that." Now the typhoon finally looked up into coal eyes. "It's not normal, down there. Not like you."

Wolfwood’s eyes had a way of snagging on vulnerable spots. They seemed to know which wounds had hurt the most, which had taken the longest to heal, and which Vash felt were the worst to look at. He pondered over those the longest because his companion shrank under the weight of their study. They were weak points…

He was swift to act and slow to process. There were lapses in Wolfwood’s harassment; moments when looking took precedence over lifting away coverage. He wanted to commit each mark to memory and so, once Vash’s shirt had been flung to the floor, he lingered on its landmark of exposure. His right hand drifted to explore the height where nipples should have rested only to be denied by a subconscious recoil from Vash.

Fine.

His attention fell to the blonde's lower half, accompanied by his hands which clamped boldly over Vash's belt buckle. Their effort would be thwarted by a firm catch of his wrist. Wolfwood’s gaze returned to Vash’s face with a dispassionate lack of patience.

’Look, I’m not-!’
“-Relax. I’m not gonna judge your dick size, okay? You wanna see mine? Would that make you feel better?”

It was a ridiculous offer; immature and just on the brink of being an insult. One of Wolfwood’s hands leapt backward to threaten compliance but doing so only seemed to accelerate Vash’s dread. The amputee’s words jumbled themselves into an absurd excuse that Wolfwood couldn’t help but be amused by:

‘…Plants are bisexual.’
“Ha-ha, aren’t we all?”
‘-not like that.’

Wolfwood’s smirk began to wilt. Its revision was slight; nothing like the drop of a disappointed man’s smile. Rather, it had been placed on pause while the gears of recognition turned in his head. He wasn’t sure he understood what Vash was saying, exactly.

‘It’s not normal, down there. Not like you.’
“...So, you-…you’re...?”

He didn’t know what to say. There was no pre-planned question waiting to fill the space of his confusion. He hadn’t been prepared for this scenario. Wolfwood blinked against the other’s nervous stare, longing to confirm what was being implied but glimpsing little aside from cerulean-clad anxiety.

"What're you saying?"
A heavy exhale escaped Vash when those tan hands finally stopped, if for a moment. His cheeks burned with shame, his expression all furrowed brows and pursed lips. His mouth opened only to close again. This wasn’t something he had ever had to explain or put into words. It was a difficult task even to start. “…you said it yourself, right? I’m not human.” He released the overly tight hold he had had on Wolfwood’s wrist, now that it seemed the dark man would at least for a time halt his aggressive encroaching on the blond’s body.
The ghost of as touch he had felt on his chest, before he pulled away, was enough for him to know that another part of his difference had been noticed. Plants weren’t mammals after all, they didn’t nurse, so why would he have nipples? Most people who saw his chest, mostly the occasional doctor to be honest, assumed they had been the victim of one of the innumerable injuries to his body. But they’d never been there to begin with. He’d been lucky as well, that there had never been a reason for anyone to more closely examine the area below his belt line.
Stiff shoulders wilted, Vash’s face angled downwards. “You’ll think I’m disgusting, Wolfwood.” The words came out quietly, the tight muscles of his throat barely letting them pass. “It’s… both.” Aqua eyes looked back up through tussled hair, shining wetly. “Plants can reproduce asexually.” With this fact, a snippet of common knowledge, Vash intended it to finally pull the disorganized pieces together in some way. There was a sense of resignation to the words, as though Vash had in some way lost something with the admission.
A flicker of a smile had remained on Wolfwood’s face, it seemed stuck there rather than out of any sort of the boyish humour the other had had while roughhousing with his shirt. They’d only know each other for a couple of months, but they had been through life and death already. He’d seen the other’s dark form riddled with bullets, he’d seen his blood pool on the floor and then watched him stand up again. And again.
Vash’s mouth set in a determined line. “Fine.” His flesh hand reached out, this time grabbing a handful of shirt collar. He wished for the return of his broken prosthetic so he could get a real grip. “You’d don’t tell anyone about this. Ever.” Despite the uncharacteristic fierceness of the words, the droplets of moisture beading on his lashes revealed the still beating core of anxiety that ruled him. The typhoon had never let anyone really see before, he’d made it over a century on the surface without being caught and now with his one slip and there was a man between his legs demanding to see him as he was… as a plant. There was something different about Wolfwood… he knew he could trust him, really trust him, from the moment he saw him. So, ‘fine’ was the answer.

Not Human.

Sure. It was easy to say it. Wolfwood knew it was a fact. He’d been briefed on it before meeting Vash and was occasionally reminded of it when the Stampede accomplished an inexplicable feat.

Still, it was hard to grasp what part of him really differed from the population of No Man’s Land. He looked like a human; spoke and cried like a human. It was just that glow, the hue of his eyes. Tiny discrepancies that one had to discover through careful observation (or dumb luck.)

It hadn’t occurred to Wolfwood that there could be more secrets below Vash’s belt than above it. The man was a walking enigma already. And now--- ‘both.’

Both?
What the hell did that mean?
Nobody had both.

Wolfwood remained at a loss for words. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. He’d fallen down some strange rabbit hole and become a ghost, floating above the ordeal without being able to contribute to its outcome. Was this conversation really happening?

Vash yanked him back to reality, Wolfwood’s hands habitually rose in an expression of surrender. His mouth remained in a paralyzed smile. His glasses fell from their perch atop his bangs and vanished into the mess of sheets surrounding their dispute.

“You got it, Blondie. Not a soul.”

His promise came smoothly. It always would, no matter how disheveled he was, Wolfwood’s words would never betray him. They would always arrive just right, forever low and lilting. Like the world was a joke and he was the bearer of its punchline. His lungs, however, were less savvy. They pulled air too fast and made his chest seize to accommodate the influx.

'I'm excited!'

He thought helplessly between breaths.

'God---why am I so excited?'

The sight of hands raised in surrender brought a small bit of relief with them, more so when Wolfwood agreed to the terms of this strange adventure in biology. “Back up.” The words were accompanied by a soft shove, not really enough to move the other man but enough to get his point across. A singular hand pulled the ties of his boots free, before toeing them off and leaving them to fall to the floor with a thud. Thin fingers moved to his lips before the blond used his teeth, with a flash of sharper the normal canines, to pull off the mate-less glove he wore. If he just went fast enough… Vash couldn’t help looking back up at Wolfwood, his hand hesitating just above the closure of his pants. The red from his cheeks had spread, now dusting the tips of his ears, and reaching to his shoulders.
A slight tremble, before moving his gaze back to the task at hand, and a quick flick of his wrist and then his pants were undone. Vash stuck a thumb into the waistline by his hip, before pausing again. “It’s hard to get them down, with one hand.” He was nervous, terrified, blood pumping loudly in his ears. Bluegreen eyes meandered back at Wolfwood, taking in a similar flush starting to fight its way to the surface on his companion’s face.

Wolfwood had honored Vash’s request for space. He had gone so far as to back his way off the bed and stood waiting, like a voyeur, for the promised reveal. He hadn’t wanted to retreat. His hands had been happy to get involved, even if his heart didn’t comprehend why. Wolfwood’s fingers twitched eagerly as he witnessed work they could have been- (should have been) doing.

The Punisher placated himself by studying the scape of Vash’s back. It was turned to him briefly and boasted an entirely new map of poorly patched flesh. There was a lot to look at…and damage was only part of it. Moisture had gathered like dew in the depths of Vash’s eyes, catching light and periodically escaping to draw streams down his cheeks. He wore tears so naturally – they were as much a part of him as his scars.

And then there was that blush. It gave his coat a run for its money and was contagious in its scarlet beauty. Wolfwood could feel it seeping into him, warming up his insides like radiation. It was challenging the rate of his heart. Worst of all, it was calling Wolfwood’s perception of Vash into question. Vash was a job. He was an ally or a friend and that was all, right? This whole stripping thing had happened to satiate curiosity, ...right?

’It’s hard to get them down, with one hand.’

Vash looked like a puppy that had peed on the carpet- obviously embarrassed and frightened by the outcome this event could yield. Wolfwood couldn’t help but savor his timid request for help. Hearing it rendered (most of him) soft. His brows twitched with upturned compassion and a huff of good humor escaped his nose.

“So C’mere. Let me.”

Just friends.
Just curiosity.

The invitation sounded so natural; yet it caused a warm twist in his lower belly. The blond freed his hand before scooting to the end of the bed. Long legs hung over the side before he stood up to be face to face with the priest. They were quite close in height. Calloused hands moved to his hips, his own twitched with the sudden instinct to reach out and put his hand on the other man's shoulder as though looking for support. Vash's arm raised but stopped short, as though making more room for the goal-oriented hands pulling as his waistband.

Wolfwood would carefully preserve the trust that had reeled Vash in. His gaze dropped to settle over the hem of his companion’s open pants. It would be easier for their wearer if he kept his eyes turned down, wouldn’t it? Wasn’t it better to divert them than to oppress the other’s bashful blues with attention?

Wolfwood’s hands returned to Vash with a sweetness that had been absent before. His dark knuckles did their best to whisper against the outlaw’s waist. They had hoped to hide their rough edges, but it’s no use. The fingers that dipped beyond the boundary of Vash’s boxers were calloused. Wolfwood’s touch was as rugged and warm as sandstone under sunshine.

"Sorry,"

He wasn't sure if he was apologizing for his rocky touch, his heavy breathing, or the way he was plotting to dispatch Vash's most vital layer of clothing. He would make it as gentle a motion as possible by diving his hands down the other man's thighs and burrowing where their skin kissed cotton. In this way, he forced Vash's pants to fall loose before peeling them towards the floor.

A quiet gasp escaped Vash as warm hands divested him of his trousers. His own body temperature was a bit lower than the human average, Wolfwood’s touch felt hot against his skin. Again, that twist inside him flared, as much as he tried to ignore it. He sat back down on the bed lifting his feet to facilitate this final act to accomplish his nudity. The typhoon’s body now bared, his knees pressed together without thinking. A faint glow had started to illuminate his eyes. The blond closed them quickly, as if that could hide the small hints of light peeking from the corners of his eyelids.
Slowly, shyly, he opened his legs to grey eyed scrutiny. Embarrassment flooded anew. There was a scientific name for it surely, but nothing he’d wanted to learn. Instead, Vash defaulted to the human terms for his anatomy as much as he could. It made him feel less like an outsider. A tuft of fair hair rested above his dick, mercifully flaccid. To be otherwise would have been even more embarrassing. At first glance it looked nearly normal. Upon closer inspection though, not everything was as it seemed. The shape was different. Closer to the head it was slightly larger, wide ridges accentuated around the crown. There, a faint blue tinge to the flesh was visible.
The gaze upon his body felt tangible, heavy almost, as though it caused his exposed skin to tingle. Hesitant fingers drew close, touching himself only to move his cock slightly. The motion offered a small view of the slit below, a hint of blue visible there too. “This is what I meant. Different.”
Again anxiety plagued him as he finally braved opening his eyes to look at Wolfwood. There was no telling how the man, how the human, in front of him would react. Would Wolfwood be revolted? Vash feared this, feared all his insecurities about his body being finally confirmed.

Wolfwood had straightened from the task of disrobing his ally and stood just shy of the bed with Vash's pants in hand. His (predictably) red boxers had been tangled up with them, twisted carelessly around the inseam to form a two-toned knot which would be set aside; forgotten on the far corner of the bed so that Wolfwood's hands could be unburdened.

He drifted forward in a daze, completely awed by the anatomy he was seeing. The picture between Vash's legs had a floral quality to it. The head of his cock resembled a tightly wrapped rosebud, protected by a periwinkle sheath that's blue faded easily into peachy tones. And below the base, peeked slightly parted petals of the same spell- pansy, purpley blue guarding pink folds.

It was beautiful, really.
And his initial instinct was to reach for it.

Wolfwood's right hand opened and extended to touch the phallic flower, but a flinch would halt its intent. Vash wasn't a garden. He was a person. And he was scared. The obvious finally donned on Wolfwood: No one had ever seen this and that's why no one could ever know about it. That was why Vash was on the cusp of trembling and why his shoulders were so close to his ears. Wolfwood would not be the man to pluck him. He would not cause harm or further anguish.

His hand diverted mercifully to the nearest knee. It cupped the cap while spreading fingers in the direction of Vash's thigh. Callouses tickled over scar tissue with an apologetic amount of care. Maybe all of this had been a mistake, but. He could make it better. He could mold this into something good. Something sweet. Something soft. He could explore without eradicating the trust he'd won.

"Blondie,"

Even while keeping himself open, Vash pulled away just slightly from Wolfwood’s outstretched hand. He feared its trajectory only to have it land softly on his knee. The touch was warm, so warm. The smell of cigarettes and sweat was between them. There was no fighting the tense feeling in his body, like a piano string awaiting the strike of a hammer. Again that twist in his belly, the flesh in his hand making a telltale twitch that he had no way to stifle.
Shame had weighed his eyes down as Wolfwood examined him. The feeling still had plenty of power over him. Still… this pet name he had been gifted, said so softly, was enough to bring his gaze back to the dark figure before him. This single thread of hope was enough to pull Vash’s face upward. No words made their way from trembling lips. Instead… this was left to Wolfwood. The shine of his eyes had started to move outwards, a subtle glow beginning to brighten the corners of his jaw.

That upward pastel glance was enough, an innocent plea. Obedient, but shy. Wolfwood tilted his face to better study its glow. If ever there had existed a God, he imagined the Father's face would look something like this; reminiscent of the stars that watched over No Man's Land --- glowing and out of reach.

His other hand lowered to sit parallel to the first. Both of Vash's knees fell into Wolfwood's possession. Fingers bared down gently over their shape, threatening to press a little too hard, intent on knowing their rounded detail before beginning to sweep toward the trunk of Vash's body.

"Am I the first?"

It's kind of hard to fathom that someone so beautiful would remain untouched for so long. Surely, Vash had taken lovers. How could he not when suitors have surely lined up since the dawn of his existence?

Wolfwood can only imagine the world to share in his affinity for the incandescent stripes that stain his friend- for Vash's pale skin and gleaming eyes. For a smile so warm that it challenged the greater sun.

"Don't tell me you've never..."

He doesn't unleash his disbelief with any intent to wound. He's just too flabbergasted to keep it in. His life has been hard and fast. He's devoured every experience that offered itself, including pleasures of the flesh. It had never occurred to him that maybe he was alone in his vigor or that Vash could be pure in ways beyond philosophy.

Vash's hand moved, relinquishing the unintentional hold on himself, and letting his hand fall to his naked thigh. The contact on his knee now found a twin on his other leg, an easy sense of stability flowing from Wolfwood's touch. Rough hands against skin used to being handled roughly. The observation of just how warm the other man was took up so much of the Stampede's mind... It was like the desert suns shone always on the priest no matter what roof he found himself under. The suns of No Man's Land had imbued him with fire and how it beat gently on Vash's own body. The connection provided an unintentional catalyst that the blond felt himself drawn too.
Fair hair tickled his nose when the plant shook his head. "Of course not." It was said simply and plainly, just stating a fact. Only a keen ear would catch the trailing sense of loneliness that coated those words. How could he? How could he ever let anyone close enough? "How could I explain...?" Bluegreen eyes looked away again, unwilling to stare judgement in the face. Wolfwood had been kind, so far in as he had not directly broached the subject of Vash's differing physiology. It was coming though, one way or another. As contact between the two was sustained the glow continued to spread. Vash pretended he didn't feel it, pretended the subtle southward direction of his blood wasn't happening. "I'm not human." The words echoed again between grey walls.
The independent plant had been examined of course, several times in his youth. Doctors taking notes here and there, a measurement there a soft 'oh' here. Vash had never felt like anyone was really looking at him like Wolfwood was now. The scarred form was habitually concealed behind black clothes and an oversized coat. Instead, for the first time, Vash felt truly vulnerable at the hands of this man. He felt more open than just the space between his knees... and that feeling was beginning to spread as sure as pale iridescent lines drew themselves over his flesh.

A keen ear.

Keener than Wolfwood's, that much is certain. He balks at the other's answer --- because what is there to explain? He's beautiful. Fuckable. Ethereal.

It's that last quality that can account for why no one has explored him until now. Wolfwood can see him being a little too much for the average man (or woman) to analyze. Touching Vash is like touching Christ. His existence means that there is more out there.

More than Sand.
More than God.

There's a wisdom to Vash, perhaps un-bloomed, but anyone who listens to him can hear it. There's something in him that Wolfwood will never be able to touch because his mind is primitive. And his hands are stained with human blood. He tries; listens, and tells himself to be Good in the way that The Stampede is Good---

---- but he isn't.
And can't be.

"So, maybe I shouldn't..."

He can't offer much, aside from his sober interest. He sees Vash in the way that Vash wants to be seen. He looks at him with human eyes and weighs his appearance with human expectation.

His hands hesitate in strange places before sailing over the other's sharply angled hips. They finger back and forth upon finding interesting scars. Humans are curious beings, bold in their constant search for answers.

Wolfwood's hands find their way to Vash's waist. His thumbs stroke the front of his marred torso while the rest of his digits venture just shy of his spine. He hauls towards ribs that have been broken again...and again...and again...

"Does this bother you? Am I doin' some kind of damage here,"
He tries to offer a way out, but he doesn't really want to stop. He's noticed the luminous spread of Vash's inhumanity and finds it to be beautiful, a worthy distraction from the growing erection between his partner's legs. (And from his own change of temperature.) Wolfwood carefully sweeps his hands up and over the other man's sternum. He spreads his reach wide.

It feels good, right?
To have someone else's fingers dance above one's heart?

"Glow more. I want to see it up close."

The pressure on his body is light, hands so often immersed in violence moved like a shadow across the rise and fall of scarred flesh. A shiver followed unbidden in their wake. It seemed Wolfwood was the type to look with his hands. Vash had never been touched so gently, there was a feel of near reverence in that soft connection. The touch tracing his ribs reminded him of his ticklishness, but there was no effort to move away. "You're not... hurting me." If anything, the stimuli the plant was getting was on the opposite side of the spectrum. Wary shoulders had finally retreated down away from blushing ears.
There was no denying either the flesh between his legs nor Wolfwood's notice of it. It too had begun to glow softly. The blond's breathing was shallow. A deep ache settled lower, desire not being the only thing beginning to bloom.
Vash felt a new kind of nervousness fill his chest. The trepidation of taking a further step... "If you want to see more, then..." Shining eyes glanced downward, finally catching note of his companion's state. "It's only fair, right?" Curiosity, longing, need... The typhoon always felt like an outsider; no matter how long he lived among humans. Vash spoke like them, walked like them, ate like them, but never felt like one of them. Here and now, in his old bedroom, maybe something new could finally bridge that gap. The excitement of possibility began to eclipse the anxiety that had for so long made its home in the plant's heart. There was hope that the priest before him would welcome and accept Vash in a way he hadn't dared wish for.

It was like a tiny explosion; a display of what Wolfwood pictured electricity to look like as it ran through lines of wire. He was seeing power in its purest form. Light, before it was caught in rooms and forced to illuminate the human agenda.

Vash's glow followed down predestined patterns. It lived in straight angles and parallel lines. It flashed brightly upon reaching his groin before becoming pale again. Wolfwood took its ebbing radiance as a signal. It had to be a brand of shyness (that he wasn't familiar with), pointing to a place of need ...like a street sign.

It was kinder than his own, nuanced hints of desire. Tight trousers weren't exactly neon and yet, Vash had seemed to notice. Maybe he could hear the hurried beat of Wolfwood's heart. Maybe it was something in his fingertips --- the energy they explored with. The tenacity they had to reach his throat. They continued up and over raised evidence of wounds.

"-What's only fair? You tryin' to barter with me, Blondie?"

Wolfwood's hands grazed the underside of Vash's jaw. He'd pointedly refused to look down between the other's parting knees. His slate stare kept itself glued to glowing orbs; content to admire the double moons that fed his companion's consciousness.

"You want to explore me too?"

He posed threats without meaning to; voiced absent promises that had no right to escape while his thumbs lifted Vash’s upper lip to expose long, sharp canines. "If you wanna see my dick, why don't you take some initiative?" His longer digits shelved Vash's face to prevent escape while he polished the abnormal shape of his partner's teeth.

Warm hands mapped the valleys and craters of Vash's body. It seemed only now was the subtle chill in the room evident, the air between them whispered 'cold, cold' while Wolfwood offered heat. His throat, only before touched with the intention to strangle, was instead caressed.
The invitation was shocking and... welcome. As Wolfwood stared Vash in the face, he swore the eerie blue glow could be seen in gray eyes too - even if only in reflection. "Yes." The answer was sudden and came without thought. While he had made no attempt to hide it, now at this point his arousal was undeniable. He did want to explore. No Man's Land held no mysteries for him now, but this new tan terrane was seductive. The blond's face was captured and he made no attempt to evade. Thumbs prodded and pushed at pink lips and Vash complied, opening his mouth to accommodate further trespasses.
The idea of it seemed so straight forward. Vash was no child, the plant was over 100 years old, and sex was far far older than that. And yet... his hand rose slowly, hesitantly. If Wolfwood's heat attracted him, maybe his own cooler body could provide a respite from overly sunny days. Despite what an external view may provide, naivete has long since left his body. He was described as a typhoon or a stampede - something that moved forward, overtook, and trampled without a thought and yet now found it hard to proceed at all.
A slender hand pressed forward, making soft contact with the excited flesh confined behind black cotton. Vash pulled back with a twitch, as though worried that he was in fact the one causing harm... and yet still Wolfwood didn't look away. If anything, he looked... amused? Vash let his tongue move forward, just enough to slide against the thumb measuring his left canine and taste the sweat on it. His tongue would be gleaming too, and he knew it.
Vash would reach out again. Regardless of the fact that Wolfwood was the one being touched in so intimate a place a surprised sound would instead come from the blond. Hands too used to grasping the grip of a gun were overly soft instead, fingers cupping the tented fabric with all the weight of flower petals. The thrill of touching someone else, of touching Wolfwood was enough to excite the plant's own body and the glow continued to spread until now - though faint - it ran the length of his body.

Wolfwood was amused, both by Vash’s tentative touch and by the ancient glyphs that decorated his tongue. He believed he could read them and bent to appease their scripture. His thumbs parted, pulling briefly at the corners of Vash’s mouth before sinking down the soft curvature of his cheeks. Wolfwood drove his tongue down the center of where he remembered glowing symbols to be, hoping to taste them—to take them as his own. If only he could be stained so beautifully by a kiss.

He hummed as Vash exhibited further confidence. It wasn’t enough, really – a grope that could hardly be felt through the barrier of his pants, but the best way to encourage boldness was to praise it. Wolfwood purred into the chasm of Vash’s throat. His right hand lengthened its reach, intent on tracing the flow of Vash’s luminous adornments. It ventured diagonally to tickle behind Vash’s ear while Wolfwood’s left hand dove between their bodies and brushed the tip of his partner’s blooming phallus. He gave a whisper of contact to emphasize his own frustration at being teased.

“Here.”

He pressed Vash’s palm decisively against the front of his pelvis. Wolfwood hadn’t realized the severity of his own arousal; the fever and the precum that would readily seep under pressure and disrupt his casual facade. He was forced to grind and growl through an unexpected lack of breath. "Touch me like you want to. You ain't gonna break me.” His cock twitched on cue. Having made his point, Wolfwood shifted to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly on the other’s behalf. His chest hitched, reflecting a seizure of excitement brought about by this new, open invitation.

A kiss. The word itself was simple, and yet the feeling it produced was anything but. Wolfwood's mouth eclipsed Vash's own, as did his skill. The amputee again wished for his lost arm, he wanted to be able to mirror the confident hold the other had on his face. Their lips meshed together sloppily, the taste of tobacco lingered in the priest's mouth. It was bitter and yet Vash sucked on the invading tongue. Despite attempted avoidance the points of his teeth introduced a faint tang of blood to the mix. Somehow it was all the more suited to the exchange.
The grip on his face lessened but Vash remained captivated by the business of intimacy. He tried to match the pace of the other's breath, the back and forth of tongue and teeth was an overwhelming and heady dance. The grip on his hair was pleasant and the blond leaned into it a moment - but the faint touch to the head of his cock caused his whole body to jerk. A sudden litany of 'more', 'please', and 'touch me' took over Vash's thoughts and nearly fell out of his lips only to instead be smashed and swallowed by Wolfwood. A frustrated whine would be all to escape.
"Here." The sound was more akin to a growl than a word. Again, Wolfwood surprised him. The plant found his own hand overtaken and pressed into the front of black slacks. Vash would have sworn to feeling the other man's heartbeat pulsing from imprisoned flesh. Just as quick his hand was pushed away to allow for the hurried release of belt and buttons.
Vash felt near to floating. His thoughts were jumbled and his whole body seemed to tingle with need. He'd tasted something he'd never admitted to wanting before and couldn't bear stopping now that this untouched possibility was willingly in reach. "Wolfwood, I-" the dark figure before him was by no means delicate, that was not a concern. Instead... it was a harder question to pin down that left Vash's tongue dumb. How did he want to touch Wolfwood? The plant's own excitement stood straining. A century’s hesitation only managed to last a moment before the rising tide of need.
Again Vash reached forward, moving to stand and press his body to Wolfwood's. A soft kiss belied rougher intentions. Thin hips pressed forward, trapping engorged flesh between them. A glowing palm pressed flush over a warm beating heart, mirroring previous contact, before Vash took a strong grip of Wolfwood's shirt and pulled hard. Buttons gave way and popped off to be swiftly lost.
Now Vash would take the opportunity to grasp Wolfwood's jaw, begging another kiss. Taking another kiss. "Wolfwood..." The name was uttered quietly, though tinged with rough arousal. Vash's lack of experience was known between them now. He couldn't imagine allowing another human, man or woman, to see him like this. The plant had never trusted anyone enough to even try. It was important that it was Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

Wolfwood was used to being the aggressor, both on the battlefield and in bed. Nothing about this exchange had hinted that it would play out any differently, so when his partner rose and brashly brought their bodies together, he found himself at the mercy of surprise. Wolfwood uprooted the knee that had given him balance on Vash's bed and retreated. He lifted his hands in momentary surrender while the blonde grappled with his shirt.

“Whoa,”

He mused as his shirt was reduced to an open mess of missing buttons. Wolfwood was flustered; caught off guard not only by the enthusiasm being displayed, but by the sensation of invasive hipbones puzzling themselves against his own.

Vash did not emanate heat as most lovers would, but being at room-temp didn’t take from his presence. Wolfwood was more than aware of the other's length, twitching just below his navel. Nipping at flesh recently laid bare. His abdomen flinched with it, willing to provide a heated shelter while his own worried sex ached under the elastic of his boxers.

Not quite free.

Its plight would briefly be forgotten as his jaw was annexed. He started against the courage of Vash’s mouth before melting into it.

'Wolfwood.'

God, the way he said his name; the way he made it sound soft and safe. Vash was sweet, both in sentiment and flavor. He tasted like honey with a hint of something foreign. Something like cactus blooms, but better.

Wolfwood’s hands caught up to the moment before his lungs; they lowered to tickle down scar-dented shoulders. His right landed over turquoise tech before he was forced to break their kiss and breathe against The Stampede's pampered lips. He was pleasantly dazed. His eyes drank Vash in; studied him from face-to-sternum until landing on the spot where his bicep had been bisected.

He followed the track of its metal frame thoughtfully, then dipped to explore its underside, where an empty socket waited for the return of his prosthetic. Vash had flinched during its detachment, but Wolfwood couldn’t take the blonde’s eeks at face value. His charcoal-colored stare fell back to Vash’s Verdant-Blue. They waited to catch a reaction as he skimmed a landscape of screws and gaps.

Vash was glad to swallow his companion's surprise, happy to return the other's previous favor. It hardly seemed enough. Now that the door to this new experience was open, calling the plant eager to continue the exploration was an understatement.
A shudder greeted the exploration of the anchor point for his prosthetic arm. It caused the blond to separate from the kiss just enough to provide a bit of space. While the arm was attached, he could 'feel' it but "T-the nerves get attached when the arm is in. Just... tickles, without it." Human warmth did affect the metal though, transferring to connected skin.

Wolfwood nodded while taking inventory. His eyes lowered to follow his fingers along the line where skin connected to steel. Then to the neighboring pectoral, which had been polluted by burns. They appeared as erratic streams of pink, reaching over his shoulder and spanning down to his heart. Below that, it looked as though a patch of flesh had been flayed away....

While Wolfwood’s right hand phantomed along a mural of bad memories, his left began to sink. It took notes of its own, across jagged lacerations and plates of metal, until it could swoop over the cusp of Vash's wound-chipped hip. "Don't you ever dodge?" He murmured softly while taking a tender detour toward the blonde's backside. There were dimples above Vash’s buttocks...along with a violent gash that ran parallel to his spine.

It seemed… unbelievable. To be touched so tenderly. As much as the twin hardness between their bodies called for attention, Vash felt his soul called for this slow discovery of sensation. He wanted to press forward with abandon, but relished the feeling of warm hands. Some scars were the result of wounds deep enough to dull their feeling, others he felt keenly.
“Most of these are old… from when I was young.” Learning by gunfire had been a harrowing experience. “If a scar can save someone else though, one more doesn’t make much of a difference.” His own hand began to lower, tracing down Wolfwood’s neck, across stark collar bones, before moving to push into the space of a tan chest. The skin was firm, muscle evident just underneath. Deft fingers traced close past a ducky nipple before pressing his thumb over and across it. “Does this feel good?” An honest question. Vash knew nipples could be erogenous for some humans, men included.
The hand exploring his back prompted a shallow thrust of bony hips, again reminding the faintly glowing plant of his friend’s relatively clothed state. “Would you take these off?” Hopeful eyes glanced to Wolfwood’s remaining, and now somewhat damaged, attire.

A shiver ran from Wolfwood's toes to his fingertips. For all of his exploits, few had benefitted him emotionally. They had been fast and careless; often purchased. Rarely impactful. Intimacy had been one box on a long checklist of things to do before meeting death, and had mostly meant getting off. But. That was about to change.
Vash's touch was electric.

A low bark of surprise escaped Wolfwood's throat as his nipple was plucked. He hadn't expected that little pinch to jumpstart his heart - hadn't even been aware of the sensitivity lying dormant on his chest. He covered his breast and laughed with boyish exclamation- shocked... thrilled.

"Yeah, it does-"

He'd meant to remove his shirt. It had been Wolfwood's intent to keep pace because Vash had made it very clear that doing so was 'only fair', but the blonde had been too crippled to insist and Wolfwood had been too distracted to accommodate. He made up for it now, by shrugging free of his attire to bare his chest. It plummeted to the floor, joining his disregarded blazer, in a grayscale heap.

He bent, then- tucked his thumbs down the sides of his slacks and caused them to fall around his ankles. He had no issue stepping free of their fabric, (or the lazy loafers they'd puddled around.) Wolfwood exhaled upon rising. It was a natural release, pressed free as his torso unfolded. He stood, fully bare and fully erect for Vash to examine. Wolfwood was lined with budding muscle. Such was the benefit of surviving a tumultuous life - he was on his way to being broad. Solid.

His cock had already achieved the latter. It stood confidently at attention and boasted Wolfwood's all-over-caramel-color. Its head was glossy with ambition. It crowned his shaft's upward curve, darker and bolder than the length beneath it. Black hair hid where it connected to his lower body and drew a trail towards his navel. His sex- his build...was rough and male and undeniably human.

Vash was glad to hear his rather forward touch was pleasurable, as well as see the reaction to it. Wolfwood's hands tracing along his body felt good and it seemed only right to return the favor. There was no denying his own personal desire to do so either.
The sudden loss of contact was jarring, but the plant was excited to see dark fabric being shirked to the ground. Darting eyes went over the exposed flesh of Wolfwood's torso. A few very light scars dotted his chest and arms, quite old, and Vash assumed they had been earned in childhood. None that looked fresh, even with the trial they had recently been through on the sandsteamer. It wasn't surprising with his unique situation - but it stood in stark contrast to his own body that seemed eager to accept evidence of injury.
Vash blinked three times fast, the flush on his face renewed as Wolfwood moved to complete his task of disrobing completely. Bluegreen eyes followed the trail of dark hair down and blatantly stared. Sure, he'd seen a dick before but not like this. All-over-tan skin was bared completely, and the priest's cock stood proud and impressive.
The blond swallowed heavily. His own physiology was made from a base of human DNA, thus the many similarities in form between plants and humans. Thus of course he had at least a basic idea of what to do. There was a major difference though. That sudden heated twist in his lower belly made itself known again, and Vash felt himself start to open, to bloom. The lower entrance to his body was by default shut tightly. It was a normal facet of a plant's body as it was part of what enabled self-pollination, but he could feel the petals start to spread. His own cock's excitement returned at full force as well.

If Wolfwood noticed, he didn't say so. He opted to bask in the attention allotted to his build. His right hand habitually fell to stroke his heated member. It was a slow and practiced motion; one that brought a bead of precum to his head and forced his ass to flex. Nicholas was many things, but shy was not one of them.

"Like what you see?"

He asked with the confidence of a man that knew the answer. His free hand didn't hesitate to guide Vash's fingers back to the bulk of his newly bare chest. Wolfwood assumed that this exploration was to be mutual and the sooner he allowed himself to be studied, the sooner he could set to Vash. Then he could truly take his time.

He stepped forward, closing the gap that had been necessary to strip down. Vash's knuckles would be walled against his own sternum if his hand stayed poised over Wolfwood's heart. Their cocks kissed. The roughness of Nick's lower grip stood out clearly against the silky length it held. His hand bloomed, much like Vash's lower half. Its fingers extended to caress his partner with the ultimate goal of bringing their shafts together.

Vash nodded dumbly, rendered speechless by the display. Bright eyes still fixed on the spectacle in front of him, and thus was an easy target. The pull on his arm finally brought his attention back up to gray eyes. He was glad to be given the opportunity to touch the bare skin of his companion once more. Whipping around the Punisher like a plaything certainly took some muscle, and Vash took pleasure in exploring. Deft fingers pushed over a pert nipple again.
A shaking gasp came out unbidden as his own hardness was caressed. Wolfwood's grip was easy as he pulled their members together. Thin hips instinctually gave a shallow thrust forward, excited and eager for that contact. It felt good, better than when the gunman did it himself.
A sudden urge overtook him, and the plant didn't question it. Vash dipped his head to allow his mouth to come in contact with Wolfwood's neck. Warm skin greeted an exploring tongue and gentle kisses peppered the surface. A slight taste of sweat accompanied the action.

Nick unleashed an amused little "oh?" as Vash reacted to his grip. They were even now, pulling gasps from one another like it was a competition. The Humanoid Typhoon had a soft way about him. His touch, even at it it's most curious, could not offend. Wolfwood found himself waiting for the rest of his chest to be tickled by it. His left nipple felt cold; neglected now that his right knew the pleasure of being traced.

But...that was alright.

Because Vash's mouth had made its way to his neck. Nicholas hummed and tilted his head to allow better access. A shudder jolted the top of his back as he processed the warm breath of a wanted mouth along his flesh. It was...almost unbearably good. Too much, too sweet, too full of love that he couldn't return. He closed his eyes, and focused on crushing pleasure up through their cocks with slow precision. "Bite me." he begged with what little air had been left in lungs, "Bite me."

Small sounds of grateful pleasure were beginning, but they were smothered as he continued to press kisses to the bared neck before him. Vash's hand travelled downward before settling on a well-defined hip, the digits occasionally twitching.
Vash heard the near desperate tone to Wolfwood's words, a rush of excitement coursing through him. Blue lines started to grow brighter as his pleasure increased. He took a long lick, as though that somehow prepared the flesh for the oncoming assault, and then granted the priest's wish. In the previous exploration of his mouth, he knew Wolfwood was aware of his teeth. The plant's canines came to a sharp point, and they penetrated the skin there just a bit. Something about how the other had asked had signaled he didn't want it to be gentle, but Vash made sure not to press overly hard. He continued to mouth the delicate flesh of Wolfwood's neck, enjoying feeling the other's increasing pulse against his lips.
The blue crowned cock jumped in its welcome captivity. Vash couldn't find words for how good it felt, he could feel the hard flesh of Wolfwood's dick against his own along with that warm grip. The steady rhythm continued to send shocks of pleasure through his body, as though they too ran through the glowing patterns along his skin. Tension began to build, his moans became more pronounced, and Vash moved back a bit from Wolfwood's neck. His whines and breathing instead taking place right by the other's ear. The sensations where just so strong, so different from what the blond could accomplish on his own. "Wolfwood, " a sense of desperation tinted his own words this time.

Wolfwood was losing himself.
A moan crept from him in the form of a whisper. Vash's needling teeth were so impossibly careful...it was maddening how perfectly they punctured his flesh. They carried out their sting but left Nicholas wanting more because pain brought pleasure to the surface. It woke all his nerves and tied knots in his gut. God, it was good.

His sex twitched. Precum seeped from his head to coat Vash's. He began to stroke them both with even frequency. "Huah," Nick expelled a noise that couldn't be read and absently dipped to mouth the gleaming edge of Vash's cheek. He dropped kisses across the corners of his companion’s face, interrupting his work against his throat. He bared down on the man in his grasp; wilted over him so that they mimicked a romantic painting.

Vash would find the bed against the back of his knees upon giving ground. Wolfwood wanted to topple over the other's tender heart. He wanted to shield it from the world and keep it warm beneath his weight. Nick brought his free hand forward to catch on the mattress. He'd remain stable should Vash crumble back to their sheeted platform. "You taste so sweet. Can't believe it took me so long to find out," he purred against the underside of his partner's lips. Another kiss. A pulsing stroke that ventured lower down Vash's length than before.

Kisses along his jaw line were enough to push Vash back, as though Wolfwood was steering him. The soft barrier of his mattress brought him falling down, shaking legs honestly grateful to be unburdened. "Wolfwood-" the name became like a mantra, sneaking out between wet kisses, the volume beginning to peak. "Wolfwood!" The sudden deeper jerk to his cock won an early orgasm, giving no real time to issue a warning. It was abrupt and powerful. The marks on his skin gleamed brightly as his mouth opened and his back arched, scarred thighs trembling and his hand desperately clutching at a tan shoulder. Vash moaned loudly, the overwhelming waves of intense pleasure wiping his mind blank and rendering even embarrassment impotent for the time being. A thick cum-like substance spurted out over Wolfwood's still working hand.

Vash's surrender was surprising, but not unwelcome. Wolfwood paused over his partner's writhing body, strokes slowing to milk the end of his abrupt orgasm. He could feel the tremble; feel the neighboring pulse of his partner's shaft as it attempted to coax his own climax into being. His cock flinched in time. The spray of honey sweet release between his fingers caused his hips to buck forward. It wouldn't be hard to add to the mess between their bodies,

But he wanted to wait.
This had to be more than some sticky fumble on Vash's bed. He'd hold himself together and bear witness to the angel unraveling beneath his touch. Vash was - beautiful. Really and truly. Light flecked through him like constellations, decorating him from head to toe. Nicholas spied the same starry lines hiding in Vash's throat as the blonde arched and showed his teeth to the ceiling.

Nick tilted his face to the hand on his shoulder. There, he laid his temple and watched Vash struggle to recover. His stony stare was patient. The shape of his eyes hinted that he was pleased with the little light show he'd earned. They glittered with untapped deviance. His hand slowly unraveled and began to ghost its way down Vash's wilting length, to touch traits that differed greatly from his own. Parts that were not male...and were not human. Parts that were blooming for him.

He glanced down as his fingers grazed silky petals.

Aftershocks washed over the plant and Vash found it hard to get his breathing under control. "Sorry." The apology was said quietly. Gray eyes studied him, finally getting to take in the glow of his initial request. The question that had brought this series of events about. Another shudder passed through his body as that warm touch dropped lower. He'd opened further as a result of the pleasure he had received, a wetness evident if the other went far enough. "Wait, Wolfwood." Vash turned his hand to gently pull the dark man's gaze back to his face, this contact somehow feeling just as intimate. Concern prompted blond eyebrows to knot, even through the haze of blissful chemicals firing in his brain. "Do you want t- are you sure you want to? With me?" Unsaid words lingered heavy in his mouth. 'Was he sure that he wanted to do something so intimate with someone who wasn't human.'
Vash wasn't thinking about love, that sort of thing was too far outside his reach. It wasn't even something he could think about. But he trusted Wolfwood. If they stopped now it could still be chalked up to curiosity. It was the right thing to do, to ask and make sure his friend really knew what he was doing. Yet thinking about being rejected at this point brought a mess of emotion. Vash wanted to continue. He wanted to be accepted.

His hand tilted to catch warm dew. Poised fingers lingered against Vash's blooming aperture, tempted to penetrate. Made hungry by the clear fluid that was streaming down the ravine made by his ring and middle finger. Vash was so soft...so smooth and willing to be ruined.

Wolfwood could hardly hold himself back from entering that eager boundary. He would have pressed beyond it, if not for Vash's gentle insistence to wait - to consider. He peered down at his apologetic lover, skimming over his glow, and the hurried rise of his chest. Did he appear as flustered? Heat was pouring into his face, but had it rendered him red? He breathed out and found a growl hidden beneath his own expel.

"Mmn, I don't know. Big step, could be a mistake. Guess I'd better make sure."

His voice was raspy and low. Nothing about its tone hinted at haste. Wolfwood began to bow towards Vash's lower half. His descent was charted by certainty. His shoulders rose, his head lowered, and his arms slid to shelf Vash's thighs. They framed his pelvis between sturdy forearms and forced it to lift. Breath fluttered over the base of his phallus while enroute to his petals.

Wolfwood's touch lingered for a moment - waiting, considering. The blond's face started to fall as the priest spoke. Of course he would need to take some time to think and make sure. Vash could see, had felt the other's arousal clearly. But it’s easy to get caught up in the flow of things. His body was alien to a human's gaze, it would be normal to have some sense of trepida-
Until dark hands made their move. The plant was suddenly curled in half. The motion brought Vash to a position where his previously private parts were completely in easy view. Easily accessible. The breath against his entrance was hardly warning enough. Vash had only explored that part minimally. He viewed himself as male and was much more comfortable with his dick. Thus, he was completely unprepared.
Bright eyes watched Wolfwood's mouth fall upon him, his lips sinking just a bit to now be wreathed in those petals. Immediately the sensation was overwhelming, as a mixture of tongue and suction absolutely defeated any sense of fear that had lingered in his heart.
Vash fell back on the bed. It was a completely perverse display. The whole of his blue lighted body twitched and trembled, thin hips instinctually pushing upward despite the tan arms already holding them. Vash's hand gripped the sheets and moans left his mouth relentlessly. He didn't have the presence of mind to even try to muffle the lewd sounds escaping from usually polite lips.
The blond could only barely manage to open shining eyes. His body was bright. It looked almost like the pattern was coming from Wolfwood - and in a way it was. A shaking hand managed to extract itself from twisted sheets to reach towards night black hair. Lustful gasps and moans continued unbidden as dexterous fingers wound through Wolfwood's hair, Vash took hold as though ridding a bucking thomas. Already his own cock was beginning to stand, as though making way for more and more of his taste to flood onto a willing tongue. Vash could feel it so clearly, so intensely, pressing in and around his opened bloom.

Every mew was a reward. Every moan that phantomed from his little blonde resounded like a love song, and each pause sang his praise amidst tempered breaths of shock. Wolfwood hadn't expected Vash to be so vocal, but he liked it. And he liked the rough spackling of his scars. He felt the Gunman's stripes while massaging the length of his thighs, an absent show of appreciation for the pliant splay of his pale legs.

His flower was an ever-flowing fountain. Nectar poured from him. Its flavor was subtly sweet and wrapped in rosy tones. To drink from it was heaven. It was a pleasure to explore its velvet folds; to seek its hidden wells of honey. Wolfwood had closed his eyes while consuming what could only be compared to an apple of Eden. Its flavor, and the angelic notes that accompanied its exploration, were worth falling from grace to sample.

Wolfwood moaned into his work. He moaned like a starving vagrant setting to a meal and dipped obediently to dine deeper as fingers found his hair. His hands clawed over Vash's slender hips. They, like his heart, were out of control. It was so damn sexy to feel his timid friend take charge; to be pushed down and told to stay between quivering legs because he was preforming well enough to be wanted.

His tongue desired to taste the depths of Vash. It entered him, but could not reach as far as Wolfwood had hoped. The priest readily suffocated himself while trying. He plunged his face into the lily of his lover until his lungs ran out of breath. When he was forced to rise, he spelt affection through morse-code-kisses. Wolfwood's mouth butterflied its way to the base of Vash's dick. His eyes remained blissfully closed. His face had been wetted from nose to chin with nectar.

Air pulled in and out of Vash's body like he'd run a marathon. His mouth felt suddenly dry, as though to contradict the rest of him. He found his limbs suddenly limp as soft kisses were applied with wet lips, his hand dropping from dark hair. The blond struggled to speak, as though his brain was covered in a haze. Saying the pleasure had been mind blowing seemed like a criminal understatement. His enjoyment was undeniable, not just from his fully renewed erection, but also by the sheer wetness between his legs. The bed underneath them had soaked up a good portion and it was obvious. "Wolf..." another quick breath "Wolfwood, what..." The question couldn't quite seem to form. Even while given this brief reprieve... Vash felt as close to an animal as he ever had. His body beat a pulse of need through his cock just as much as the blue flower below. There were no fancy words for what was desired, no delicate way to beg for yet more of the dark man's attentions. To beg for them to go deeper.

Wolfwood’s eyes opened and lifted to acknowledge the sound of his name. His mouth remained near thin petals. He grazed over them carefully, afraid of bruising Vash's fragile leaves with his teeth.

"Nick,"

His reveal came with a gust of hot breath. It gave his voice solid form and sent it rolling across Vash's lower body.

"Call me Nick?"

Lust couldn't hide the gentle lilt of his request. He gave his name as though it were a secret; a noise that was both precious and vulnerable.

Vash nodded dumbly, he could do that. Honestly, they were naked and Wol-Nick, has just had his mouth there. Going to first names hardly seemed like an unreasonable thing. "Nick."
It sounded almost strange to the plant's ears, but he was glad to have the sense of accomplishment from being asked to refer to the man by a nickname.
A new feeling had been building in his body, a tightness that seemed to be grasping out for something. It cried out to feel more, and feel it deeper.
"Nick I-" Hesitation. Not from any sense of worry about what he was asking for, but how he was asking for it. And how the priest would take it. "I want to go farther. Is that... okay?" Bluegreen eyes tracked every piece of the dark man that he could see, like search lights, looking for any sign that it was wrong to make this request. "Do you want to?"

"Mm." Wolfwood let out an approving little hum before returning to the intimate task of running his tongue along the underside of Vash's stem.

His eyes fell back to being shut, so that he could be fully immersed in giving oral pleasure, and because the object of his affection was glowing like a beacon. He tried to follow Vash's lines towards the head of his floral cock; tried to spy them through his lashes. He was focused on this venture when his partner began to divulge further desires.

He paused when it became apparent that the blonde really wanted to speak.

Nick couldn't help but laugh at the other's modesty. There was always an undertone of self-loathing. Vash really believed he was lesser; unworthy of wanting. If Wolfwood didn't laugh about it, he’d have to be angry about it.

So the priest chuckles, shakes his head, and presses his weight onto his palms. He looks beyond propped knees, at a face that can't decide if it wants to mimic a cranberry or a lightbulb and says: "Sure." very easily. So easily that there is suspicion as to if he understands what is being asked.

But then he plants his knees on the bed and rolls up on their height. Wolfwood rises over the body he's being offered and begins to stroke his hungry length. His smile hints at humor and has a smug tilt to its edges, but. It isn't cruel. He's not laughing at Vash. He's amused - pleased by some private joke that Vash is destined to be in on but has yet to catch.

Nick’s response was indeed easy, even smooth. No hesitation, no need to stop and consider. Just ‘sure’. It gave the plant an odd sense of reassurance. If the other had paused the gunman was sure he would have stopped this particular endeavor himself. The blond scooted backwards to allow more room for the tan body before him to advance. Vash looked down, Nick now kneeling and framed by his own open and scarred legs. Again, he took in the sight of Nick stroking his own erection with unfettered confidence. It was a relief to see that the other’s excitement hadn’t waned after the sojourn the priest had taken between his thighs. Internally, in the back of his mind, there had been a whisper of worry that the experience would have caused his companion to recoil.
Arousal still burned through him, and Vash couldn’t understand how watching the display before him seemed to further heighten his own desire. It was like everything Nick showed him just continued to turn him on further. A slight smile found itself on a glowing face as well, trying to match the seeming amusement his partner has found. There was a small amount of nervousness that the plant couldn’t deny. He knew exactly what he was getting into, but it was still new uncharted territory. He’d never found someone he would have dared to try explaining his situation to, yet this assassin turned bodyguard had not only sought him out knowing what he was but even initiated the intimate contact that Vash was very much enjoying. The subtle ache still made itself known, like an impatient pulse reminding him again and again of the building excitement he felt as well. How could he explain that he had craved this sort of contact for decades?
Battered legs remained open, an invitation to continue. “Please.” The word was also an encouragement to pull Nick closer. Propped up on one arm, aqua eyes contrasting still blushing cheeks. “I want you to feel good too.” 'And I want to feel this, too.' A small bit of selfishness he was not yet ready to voice. The petals of the flower below were also completely unfurled and lit up like the rest of him, almost like an attempt to draw yet more attention.

Vash's smile was sheepish. He looked like a kid who had caused laughter but wasn't sure how. He was the type to chuckle along shyly because he was just glad to be included, and that fact about his person was - cute. Yeah, cute. Wolfwood wasn't accustomed to thinking of anything as 'cute,' but there was no other descriptor for the Humanoid Typhoon, and as he came to terms, he found that the word had a sharpness to it. It angled its way into his heart and left a tiny hole that could only be filled by soaking up the hue of those bashful blue eyes.

"You think it doesn't feel good to eat you out...?"

Prodding mockery. Wolfwood was sincerely trying to understand the other's inner workings, but his tone had a way of insulting listeners, and his expression only worsened its offense. Together they implied that Vash had not only been wrong in thinking he was alone in benefiting but that his assumption was ludicrous. He was a treat. And Wolfwood was more than happy to devour him whole. The sunbaked bodyguard placed a hand in the center of Vash's scarred chest and applied pressure. He forced him down to the sheets and took the ground he was owed by crawling forward.

He lowered and murmured sweet accusations against his partner's mouth before delving into a kiss. "You taste like a fruit I can't name. Let me show you," He only had one hand to work with (while the other was busy at the base of his shaft,) but it earned its place without issue. Wolfwood's palm found its way to Vash's cheek. It settled there, warmly - holding him still as his mouth seeped the taste of his own petals over his tongue. Wolfwood's eyes remained open and watching. He wanted to see the other swallow. He wanted to study the geometric light that mapped Vash's face, and he wanted to witness the moment that his aching head pressed against the entrance he had wetted.

The assertion that Nick had not only not minded, but enjoyed driving Vash crazy with his mouth was... somehow so satisfying in a way he couldn't understand. Like somehow he had done something good when the other had been doing all the work. The blond was glad to be contradicted in this situation.
Surrendering to the warm pressure on his chest was easy. Somehow, Nick pinning him to the bed stirred his body yet again, the plant felt his blue-crowned cock strain between them. Long legs spread to accommodate as the man's hips encroached further. Vash was eager. Nick was, dare he say, sexy. It was not something he had labeled any other humans with but Wolfwood... Vash didn't think he could stop seeing that every time aqua eyes landed on the Punisher after this.
Pink lips were enthusiastic to accept another kiss, bright eyes closing to focus on that unique feeling. Nick's face and mouth were indeed still covered in the evidence of Vash's enjoyment. The sensation was a little bit sticky, but the taste was completely unexpected. It was sweet. The other man hadn't been trying to placate him was hyperbole. It felt odd to taste himself, felt odd to know his own wetness was sliding into his mouth and down his throat as Nick gave him space to swallow.
Glowing eyes opened again to take in the face hovering so close to his own. A sparkle of accomplishment seemed to shine in the dark depths of his gaze. The smile, nearly a smirk, gave Nick's face a wolfish look. As though eating Vash out was only the appetizer, and this was the main course.

"See?"
His single-syllable comment came with a glint of teeth. That glint seemed to drive his rightness home as he shifted to tease Vash with imminent penetration. His cock edged against dewy leaves, gently nodding into an abyss of untapped pleasure. He navigated his elbows to the sheets near Vash's face. They would lend support to his impending thrusts. His hands took advantage of their new placement and dabbled through dandelion hair, closing their grasp only as Wolfwood took the final step in their consummation.

He habitually curled inward, flexed his waist, and clenched his buttocks as his pulsing sex pressed its way through a forest of silken barriers. A shudder announced his arching shoulders. Wolfwood's hands tugged needily at blonde hair until Vash was forced to turn his chin towards the ceiling. "Auh, Blondie...God, you're so wet," He moaned through euphoria induced delirium while sliding deeper than he'd anticipated the others body to allow. His head lowered and he secretly bared his teeth against the well of Vash's collarbone. "Open up for me,"

A soft touch teased open petals before Wolfwood, Nick, descended. Vash felt boxed in for a moment as arms came down to frame his face. He was so focused on the impending thrust that he hardly noticed the hold on his hair.
"Ah, ah-" Vash's breath escaped him, as though as the head of Nick's cock began to enter him it pushed the air from his lungs. Blond hair was pulled, and Vash found himself closing his eyes, his mouth open and still emitting faint moans and gasps. A singular hand reached around to grope at a tan back.
"Nick-!" The name was said quietly, but intensely, as though showing respect to a deity. The sensation of Nick's warm sex beginning to impale him was unlike anything he had felt before. It was electric. Scarred thighs moved to embrace the sharp hips between them without thought. Nick's voice moved through him, and Vash continued to mouth his name like a prayer. Every centimeter that was given was taken in and felt by sensitive flesh. More and more those defined hips sank, their owner asking for yet more of the plant's body to sink into. He could feel Nick's cock pushing into him, spreading him apart, and though his knew he was physically capable of accepting the man's full length he was surprised with the real application of such a task.
The priest's hips finally made contact after sliding forward so slowly. Vash could only describe the feeling as full. His body twitched with pleasure, his petals gently closing just a bit around the hilt of the dark flesh infiltrating his body. Not tight enough to hold or impede movement, just showing appreciation. God it felt good, Vash practically mewling with gratitude. "Thank you..." There had been no pain, Wolfwood's first thrust had been impeccably smooth. He was still aware of his own erection trapped between them, but all he wanted was for Nick to continue to move inside him. The plant clutched desperately at a well-muscled back.
"Please, more." The tone was an odd mix of a request and a directive.

Nick shuddered into his companion's embrace. He'd never been sheathed like this - The beat of Vash's heart cradled his cock. The pulse of his partner's light translated to his inner body. It slowly clasped Nick's length, then let it go. Again and again and again. It was - this was, there was... no way he would be able to ride the sensation out long. He'd have to make every thrust count.

His dazed thought process was interrupted by a flutter against the base of his shaft. Nicholas propped himself over Vash, solidifying from the melted position that pleasure had left him in, and glanced down between their bodies. There would be no way of seeing the action of his partner's excited petals, only the leaking head of Vash's blue tinted phallus. "-Whoa," fell dumbly from Wolfwood as he felt himself held by extremities he had barely become acquainted with. "What is that...? What're you doin," He began to turn further. Nick's back threatened to capsize Vash's gentle hand.

Vash watched his partner move, seeing the top of his head as the other questioned the response below. Carefully the plant moved to caress Nick's cheek and provide just enough pressure under his jaw to encourage his concerned gaze to return to his own face. "Sorry, I didn't know I could, it would... do that." The response was pushed out in the space between quickened breaths. Scarred hips pressed up slightly. "It's just because it feels so good." A kind smile followed the statement, meant to reassure Nick that he wanted to continue. "Please, Nick."

It worked.
The safety of Vash's touch, the rise of his hips and that sucrose smile. Nicholas eased back over him. He breathed relief through his teeth, but the arc of his brow hinted that he was still acclimating to Vash’s alien body. It was a lot. Those well-meaning petals were ticking the front of his balls and tracing the vein that kept him stiff. Fuck.
YES, but fuck.
It was a lot.

Nick closed his eyes while fighting an unexpected tremor. "Auh- you're moving all around me." He pulled his pelvis back and prepared to test the other's resolve with an initial thrust.

Wolfwood's cock retreated through tight flesh that insisted on massaging him from trunk to tip. Vash's insides moved like laundry in a soft breeze, swaying back and forth. Wrapping and coaxing him to come before he was ready. It was insane! It was driving him insane, and the only way to fight the madness was move. He dove back through his bedmate by employing a stern buck.

"I'm not equipped for you, Blondie...You're somethin' else." He admitted while pushing himself to the palms of his hands. He'd have to fuck Vash hard and deep if they wanted to get anywhere. He started doing so while panting through parted teeth. His mouth took the tone of a smirk as his body rolled into a fierce rhythm between Vash’s knees.

"Looking down at you like this makes me want to-" He delivered a particularly efficient thrust that brought him to the center of his timid amputee, to a wall he couldn't break. To a womb he couldn't claim.

It felt good as Wolfwood pulled out, it felt better as he thrust back in. This time it was different, harder. The sound of skin impacting skin was likened to a gunshot signaling the start of a race. For just a moment Vash wondered if Wolfwood was actually the one in pain - until that idea was thoroughly fucked out of his brain. Glowing legs rose from the bed and spread farther, moving to accommodate the mad movement of tan hips.
Vash was rendered an absolute mess by the onslaught of sensation. There was no control, or carefully curated smiles, just a wanton need for more. And he was getting it. Nick's hips pistoned with a frantic speed, accompanied by the wet sounds of Vash's body accepting him again and again. His hand returned to grasp at the dark hair at the base of Wolfwood's skull, it was done out of instinct, but it would do nothing to stop him getting literally fucked up the bed. Truely a punishing force.
The blond couldn't stop himself. His skin glowed to a brightness he didn't know was possible. A constant litany of moan, gasps, and whines escaped him as Nick's cock continued to push into him. Scarred hips rose to meet the incoming movement and were mercilessly crushed back down to the mattress beneath. Vash couldn't manage a thought to be spared towards embarrassment.
The brief moment of stillness was appreciated but not desired. The gunman used it to catch his breath and look up at his partner in this frankly pornographic display. Even with his loud breathing, he still heard those quiet words tinged with longing. Wolfwood seemed so big from this angle, with his face so close it was easy to take in his state. Vash admired the sight of a flush strong enough to shine through tan skin. The dark man's beathing was as ragged as his own, exhales of smoke and sweetness. It was amazing to see.
The blond's whole body trembled, a shocked exhale forced through his lips as somehow Wolfwood managed to get even deeper. For just a moment his vision was taken over by white, like a lightning strike to the place farthest inside the flower he had so feared.
Vash moved quickly, too quickly for a human. His legs came up to wrap around Nick's waist before locking at the ankles. This time it was dark hair that was griped with force. He may not be human, but he was a man, and he knew what Nick had been alluding too. That sensation of something coiling deep inside him waiting to burst was so close he couldn't stand it. Vash wanted to feel it overwhelm him again, it rose so strongly in his body the orgasm provided to him previously hardly compared. The impatient grip pulled Wolfwood down till Vash's lips were right by his ear. "Do it."

His lower back flinched a little too late, unprepared for the speed with which ankles laid claim above its spine. Nick made a throaty sound of surprise while bearing the beautiful, terrible agony of looming bliss. Vash was fast - he always forgot that; always forgot that the man below him was more akin to a God than a clumsy do-gooder. His eyes had opened wide at that realization and stared frozen over a portrait of scars. His partner's shoulder sank against his mouth. Vash's cheek kissed him in the wake of a lusty whisper.

"-No! Not yet,"

His breathy retort sounded more like a plea than an order. He was breaking down. Nick was melting inside and soon he would overflow. Before that happened, he wanted to ensure that he wouldn't be the only one. "C'mere," His arms swept under Vash's back. Wolfwood used his hold as leverage to lift his lover up from the bed. Vash would find himself propped over tanned thighs, impaled, and invited to ride.

Once Vash was securely seated over his legs, Nick drew his right hand from between The Stampede's sweat-misted shoulder blades. It ghosted lightly from his side and assigned itself the task of stroking his engorged stamen. Wolfwood's hand moved slowly up his companion's cock, thumbing the underside without mercy; milking everything he had to give, up to the very tip before returning to his base to start again.

Nicholas stared up at his rider with his mouth agape, marveling at Vash's fangs and the everlasting glow of his flesh. His sweat smelled vaguely floral. Tears clung to the corners of his eyes as he ground his way toward a hard climax. His golden hair was glued to his face where sweat had wetted its tips. And his voice- God his voice, it was the brightest part of him and Nick was hard-pressed not to abuse his insides to get more of it.

'Not yet.' But soon, regardless of if they were ready for it. Strong arms encircled Vash's torso, pulling and lifting with solid muscle, to bring his body up. Nick's movement had brought glowing legs to kneel on either side of him. A calloused hand grabbed his dick, much like before but this time with the overwhelming addition of the spear of hard flesh pushing still deep inside him.
Vash rose, only able to get up a little bit before shaking legs brought him back down. The angle was different, Wolfwood's cock attacked that spot deep inside him as the plant continued to move. He couldn't last through the combination of stimulus. A broken combination of 'please', 'more', and 'thank you' pushed through the small spaces not filled with gasping moans. Suddenly, it was there. Like a pressure in the back of his mind moving closer and closer. A wild desperation he'd never felt before took hold and he thrusted, squeezed, and rode Wolfwood's cock with abandon. Then, he finally understood why it was called 'cumming'.
Release overtook Vash in an instant. His single hand held onto Nick's shoulder like an inefficient lifeline. His legs clamped onto tan thighs, his back arched, sharp canines were bared and glowing eyes snapped shut. Vash could feel the rigid flesh inside him so clearly, it brought another wave of pleasure to feel Wolfwood cum inside him. The priest's cock pulsed, finally giving up its seed to the flower it had so boldly explored. The blond continued to undulate through their mutual orgasm, intent on making it last as long as possible.

"HUAH-AUH! Auh --- hnn!"

Nicholas had been on the cusp of coming for so long that when it finally happened, he was caught by surprise. He had to clamp his teeth shut to keep from screaming. His repressed moans reincarnated themselves as miniature seizures. They rolled through him and converged in his thighs, the quiver of which threatened to dethrone his rider.

His cock would not be allowed to coat Vash's womb through pulse alone. Not only did Vash continue to rock hungrily back and forth over his pelvis, but his velvet walls moved to milk Wolfwood of remaining seed. Lower petals begged him to advance beyond his means. They caressed and clutched, even as semen began to overflow from their coupling. The continued friction was --- Heaven, swirled with Hell. As Nicholas became over stimulated, his waves of ecstasy began to confuse themselves with pain.

"St-! Too much- hauh... too much..."

His only way of regaining control was to turn to stone. Nick propped his forehead against Vash's sternum and clamped both of his hands over the blonde's hips. In this way, he asked for stillness. Vash complied, though his cooperation did not save Wolfwood from the shuddering afterglow of orgasm. His back twitched in protest of chilling sweat. Pieces of his voice broke off and escaped through heavy breathing.

He was seeing stars.

Nicholas turned this face to allow Vash's heart to beat against his ear. He continued to catch his breath while sitting open mouthed, glassy eyed and mindless. ".... Christ." Pouring into Vash had been a better experience than he had expected. He couldn't remember sex this carnal. He couldn't remember ever feeling so satisfied ...or so stupid. Wolfwood's thumbs began to brush absentmindedly over the flesh of his companion.

Nicholas's alarmed tone was enough to make Vash stop immediately, even without the firm grip on his hips. The blond curled forward just a bit, his arm coming around to support Wolfwood's back. Without both arms it lacked the intimacy of an embrace but seemed the natural thing to do as they both breathed heavily. Black hair ticked his chest just a bit. He knew the other would be able to hear his still quickened heart rate; and for some reason, after everything they had just done, that made him embarrassed.
Aftershocks of post-orgasm pleasure caused his body to quiver at odd intervals. The glowing blue pattern faded from his skin. Vash would let Nick rest like that as long as he needed, even as he felt the evidence of their pairing seeping out. It was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant. His own body had a light sheen of sweat, even with a plant's naturally cooler body that had been a real workout. The blond shivered, he needed a break too. He had no idea it would feel so good. Now he knew why humans were so eager to get physical with each other. Vash's brain felt fuzzy, it was hard to think coherently. But he needed to check on his friend. "Nick...?" The words were soft and tinged with worry. "You okay? Did I hurt you...?"

"Nah, you didn't hurt me." Nicholas reassured in a sandpapery tone. He was still trying to catch his breath; still swallowing tongue-fulls of spit mingled with nectar and willing his heart to return to a regular tempo. "Mnmph," He shifted beneath Vash's weight. "But my legs are going numb."

"Oh, uh, yes!" Vash rose enough to separate their bodies, a slight gasp accompanied the motion as Wolfwood's dick was finally freed. The blond extricated himself from the priest's space, moving back on the bed to provide enough breathing room for his weary companion. Scarred legs shook the whole time. The completion of their fast and rough convergence left his body fatigued and yet somehow also strangely content.
Blue petals closed and his own spent flesh lay flaccid. The plant looked blearily at the man before him. Wolfwood looked... tired. They'd caused quite a mess across his thighs, and Vash spotted his own proof of biological satisfaction sticking to the dark skin of Nick's chest. "Do you wanna lay down for a minute?" It was a small bed, but they'd already proved they could both fit. Anxious thoughts were fighting to get into the corners of his mind, but at least for a while the pleasurable bliss that still lingered kept them away a while longer.

Nick absently smeared the evidence of their rendezvous against his skin. It wasn't an efficient method of cleaning up, but everything would dry faster in thin streaks. His hand was sweeping back and forth across the broadest part of his chest when Vash invited him to linger. Nicholas looked at his host with skepticism. Objection flickered through his stare, then vanished with a practiced level of swiftness before it could be thoroughly identified.

"...Yeah, alright."

His answer was delayed, and he slid from the edge of the bed while giving it. The priest bent and lifted his blazer. Everything indicated an intention to flee, but his distance was a ruse. Instead of dressing, Nicholas began to rifle through his suit pockets. "You could give the suns a run for their money." He commented offhandedly while retrieving a few choice items. "Nearly blinded me back there."

He returned to bed with a lackadaisical flop that landed his head over pillows. Nicholas rested with one leg pitched and the other splayed so that his flaccid sex could hang comfortably against the flesh of his inner thigh. He exhibited no shame in its visibility, though it was still glistening with evidence of his partner's enjoyment.

"Guessing you enjoyed yourself." He spoke around a fresh cigarette. Wolfwood's abdomen pulled tight as he curled to ignite it. One hand habitually cupped the far side of his mouth, though there was no wind to protect his habit from. After enjoying a deep exhale, he sank back to the bed and placed an empty gum wrapper in the middle of his chest to use as a makeshift ashtray.

He was glad to see Nick return to the bed, Vash scooted over enough and moved to sit cross-legged. The smoke drifted lazily up to the ceiling. The plant recognized this behavior of course, he had until the end of that cigarette to make his case. He drew his hand through his own hair, knowing full well it would do nothing to restore even a shadow of order.
"Yeah," the admission was accompanied with a nod and the ghost of a smile. Bluegreen eyes took inventory. Nick looked like he was finally relaxing, letting tight muscles unwind from their labor. He also tried not to look at Wolfwood’s dick... too often. "I really had a good time. I didn't know I could get that bright either."
Vash wiggled a little back and forth, shifting his weight from side to side. "Did you?" He shook his head before finally getting brave enough to seek out eye contact. "I mean, did you enjoy yourself too...?"

He laughed outwardly at the other's consideration. "Hah, hah- thought my enjoyment was pretty obvious." Nicholas cleared his throat and tapped his cigarette over the gum wrapper. "You were good, Blondie." His gaze lifted to admire Vash's face. The Stampede had nice features. Slim, gentle. They looked especially pleasant while dusted pink. Nick's expression softened as he contemplated the other’s qualities, and remained serene as he added, "...some of that enjoyment is probably seeping out of you right now."

There was no stopping the surprised expression from plastering itself on his face. Vash's hand moved to rest on his lower abdomen. The man was right, but still - what a thing to actually say. Kinda sexy though, in a deviant sort of way. "I don't mind, it felt nice." A blond eyebrow raised. "And it's not like you can get me pregnant or anything."
The typhoon still felt grateful, glad to finally get to do something so deeply entwined with the human experience. "Well, if you had a good time and I had a good time..." a bit of hope tinged his voice. "Maybe we could do it again sometime?" Being so close to Nick had felt wonderful. He took a quick look over the body bared before him. Now Vash really understood just how warm the other man's touch could be. The feel of the bodyguard's hands... of his tongue.

Nick's eyebrows preformed a brief leap that reflected mild amusement at the mention of pregnancy. So, they were both shooting blanks. No need for Nicholas to say so. It didn't seem to matter... Vash was too busy patching together an invitation for future intimacy.

"Sure."

Nicholas accepted it with the same, airy attitude as before. His answer was not sweet. If anything, it was carefully void of commitment. "Just don't go fallin' for me." He was only half-joking. The Punisher doesn't have the time or patience to entertain anything beyond casual sex. He breathed out a final cloud of smoke and smudged his habit out on the wrapper.

His legs swung over the edge of the bed as he sat up. Nick's dominant hand wisely closed over the soiled candy wrapper, entombing the cigarette butt (and its ashes) in a tight fist. He's methodical about redressing. Nothing is fully fastened but he tugs each article on with minimal effort and ensures they hang well. He's covered. "There a public shower in this lil' commune?"

"Hah, you'd have to be a lot nicer to me." The words were said with a laugh. Vash was glad this didn't have to be a one-time thing. ...there were so many things to try, after all. A smile settled easily on his face as the other dressed. "Yeah, two doors down to the right." The blond let his tired body finally lay down on his extremely disordered bed. "I'll go later."
Something poked him in the back prompting a minor jolt. Vash sat up and found a pair of dark glasses to be the culprit. "Hey." It was enough to get the quickly exiting man's attention and toss his lost shades to him. The plant lay back down as he heard the door to his room open. His hand came up in a lazy wave, "See ya later, Wolfwood."