( he's always thought his brother to be a thing of beauty, even when they were younger and still had rem to fuss over them for things like birthday parties; he's always been a silly boy, goofy in a way that nai himself can't relate to but the blue of his eyes, the almost golden tint to his skin, the way his smiles never fail to make even the darkest spaces so much brighter —
and when he looks at him now, wide-eyed and unsure of what he's supposed to expect from a brother that had, up to now, only gone in search of vengeance for all the things he'd lost he wants nothing but to reassure him. bring him in and keep him close and remind him that it's all right, everything is going to be all right and they can finally pick their pieces back up and work on gluing them back together.
vash says okay, and it's the only incentive he'll ever need to keep moving forward; one hand slips back down to the hem of his shirt, fingers curling over the rise of a hipbone possessively for a moment, letting blunt fingernails drag over the sharp bump of bone beneath warm skin just to see what kind of reaction it might get him. he's being soft, gentle, yes — because vash deserves that much — but there's a possessiveness in him that can't be watered down. not when he has the object of his affection quite literally in his lap.
his other hand smooths back around to the base of his spine, gently kneading at the bottommost vertebra there and then boldly sliding down to the curve of his ass, encouraging him to arch against him again as he seeks to suck on his tongue. )
no subject
and when he looks at him now, wide-eyed and unsure of what he's supposed to expect from a brother that had, up to now, only gone in search of vengeance for all the things he'd lost he wants nothing but to reassure him. bring him in and keep him close and remind him that it's all right, everything is going to be all right and they can finally pick their pieces back up and work on gluing them back together.
vash says okay, and it's the only incentive he'll ever need to keep moving forward; one hand slips back down to the hem of his shirt, fingers curling over the rise of a hipbone possessively for a moment, letting blunt fingernails drag over the sharp bump of bone beneath warm skin just to see what kind of reaction it might get him. he's being soft, gentle, yes — because vash deserves that much — but there's a possessiveness in him that can't be watered down. not when he has the object of his affection quite literally in his lap.
his other hand smooths back around to the base of his spine, gently kneading at the bottommost vertebra there and then boldly sliding down to the curve of his ass, encouraging him to arch against him again as he seeks to suck on his tongue. )