( he'd thought they would always be together. the only two souls in the entirety of the universe meant to be tied as closely together as they had been then and he still thinks that, even if there's a whole hell of a lot of mending to do, more on his part than vash's, because everything that had driven them apart had been his fault to begin with.
like this, it's easy to think that they're always going to come back around to one another, whether they're consciously aware of it or not. like this, aligned near-perfectly from shoulder to hip with wandering hands and lips pressed to lips, it's easy to forget that they had ever been apart for so long in the first place.
vash might try to temper that moan when it comes out of him, and it might not be as loud or as full as nai realizes he desperately wants to hear but it slithers beneath the surface of his skin anyway, makes a home for itself in his blood and sets it to near-boiling. something so small, and still something he hadn't had before, and he — )
Do that again.
( given almost at the same time as fingers tangle in his hair and pull and the sound that comes out of him is more sensation than anything, still something that edges on a snarl as his fingernails drag over skin again, more sharply this time, enough to leave the lightest pink welts in their wake. his head bows, presses into the space between neck and shoulder and he bites at the beat of his pulse this time, the hand on his ass pulling him closer, or maybe just keeping him solidly in place as his own hips press upward, instinct taking over for a lack of experience.
no subject
like this, it's easy to think that they're always going to come back around to one another, whether they're consciously aware of it or not. like this, aligned near-perfectly from shoulder to hip with wandering hands and lips pressed to lips, it's easy to forget that they had ever been apart for so long in the first place.
vash might try to temper that moan when it comes out of him, and it might not be as loud or as full as nai realizes he desperately wants to hear but it slithers beneath the surface of his skin anyway, makes a home for itself in his blood and sets it to near-boiling. something so small, and still something he hadn't had before, and he — )
Do that again.
( given almost at the same time as fingers tangle in his hair and pull and the sound that comes out of him is more sensation than anything, still something that edges on a snarl as his fingernails drag over skin again, more sharply this time, enough to leave the lightest pink welts in their wake. his head bows, presses into the space between neck and shoulder and he bites at the beat of his pulse this time, the hand on his ass pulling him closer, or maybe just keeping him solidly in place as his own hips press upward, instinct taking over for a lack of experience.
he just wants to feel him. )