Haha, maybe just a little. You're amazing. [ Beautiful. Perfect. A much better array of words for someone like Knives than someone like him. It goes unsaid though as Vash drinks in each sound, each subtle movement, parting of his thighs, each gasp he's able to coax from his brother.
Someone who isn't as familiar with Knives might find the state he's currently in strange, alarmingly vulnerable and unlike him. But Vash knows better. Even after over a century of being separated, pushed to opposite sides of a moral question, Vash feels as though he can read his brother better than he ever could before. Perhaps it's just for him that Knives is easy like this, he's always been different with him than with anyone else. Perhaps it had been why Vash never really wanted to give up, wanted so desperately to get him to see things from his perspective. ]
You will. [But not yet. Is the simple answer, though the way Vash watches his brother is intense in a way that is deeply observant, even as nails drag down over his scalp and neck. He's like a cat, arching into the touch and the pain of it, a breath exhaled past his lips. He doesn't move to leave where he is though, despite the implication in words left unsaid by his twin. Instead, his mouth finds the head of his cock, previously intense gaze drooping to something half-lidded as he swirls his tongue over the tip and slides more of him into the warmth of his mouth.
One hand rests against the inside of Knives' thigh, the thumb of it pressing soothing circles into the skin there as he takes a minute to breathe in deep through his nose. Maybe in a way, the touch is meant to soothe his own nerves as much as it's meant to for his brother, the way his stomach rumbles with butterflies and electric zings. He's heard the sounds Knives is making, he's almost certain that what he's doing is being enjoyed, but there's that little bit of uncertainty. It has him lifting his gaze to watch again as he finally starts to bob his head in achingly slow motions.
Vash slides cool prosthetic digits lower, circling around his hole but not quite pushing in, not at first. Not yet. He figures it might be a little overwhelming, a little too much. But even as he watches Knives carefully, there's a wordless question in his gaze, mouth clearly too occupied to voice it. ]
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Someone who isn't as familiar with Knives might find the state he's currently in strange, alarmingly vulnerable and unlike him. But Vash knows better. Even after over a century of being separated, pushed to opposite sides of a moral question, Vash feels as though he can read his brother better than he ever could before. Perhaps it's just for him that Knives is easy like this, he's always been different with him than with anyone else. Perhaps it had been why Vash never really wanted to give up, wanted so desperately to get him to see things from his perspective. ]
You will. [ But not yet. Is the simple answer, though the way Vash watches his brother is intense in a way that is deeply observant, even as nails drag down over his scalp and neck. He's like a cat, arching into the touch and the pain of it, a breath exhaled past his lips. He doesn't move to leave where he is though, despite the implication in words left unsaid by his twin. Instead, his mouth finds the head of his cock, previously intense gaze drooping to something half-lidded as he swirls his tongue over the tip and slides more of him into the warmth of his mouth.
One hand rests against the inside of Knives' thigh, the thumb of it pressing soothing circles into the skin there as he takes a minute to breathe in deep through his nose. Maybe in a way, the touch is meant to soothe his own nerves as much as it's meant to for his brother, the way his stomach rumbles with butterflies and electric zings. He's heard the sounds Knives is making, he's almost certain that what he's doing is being enjoyed, but there's that little bit of uncertainty. It has him lifting his gaze to watch again as he finally starts to bob his head in achingly slow motions.
Vash slides cool prosthetic digits lower, circling around his hole but not quite pushing in, not at first. Not yet. He figures it might be a little overwhelming, a little too much. But even as he watches Knives carefully, there's a wordless question in his gaze, mouth clearly too occupied to voice it. ]