( look, it isn't like he has a whole lot of coherent thought going on in his own head at the moment, all right? not with every sound out of vash coming sweeter than the one before it, things he'd never thought he would hear and things he isn't supposed to in the first place, but he's already thinking that it's going to be a problem in the sense that he's going to become addicted to them.
addicted to him.
that whine brings another low sound out of him, an effective growl that claws its way up from the back of his throat and leaves it aching and raw on its exit, and even as vash's hand is guiding his own he's reaching to push the fabric of his shirt higher, higher still until he tug the offending fabric up and over his head. to leave him bare from the waist up, pink and silver scars and all and for a moment, nai finds himself dazed. struck dumb by the miles of pale skin in front of him that has already been marked by the presence of others.
but not by him.
it might be selfish to want this, on both their parts but he can't help the way his hands are already roaming over rough, uneven skin, breath caught in the back of his throat because look what they've done to you, my beautiful brother, look at you — but it doesn't make him any less, it doesn't take away from anything and if he stops to think about it for longer than a handful of seconds, it makes him positively feral.)
—Vash.
( his next exhale is raspy, rough around the edges as he fits the fingers of both hands between the slats of his ribs, pulling him close and licking the taste of blood from his mouth, sucking at the cut on his lip to make it bleed more.) Beautiful, beautiful boy—
no subject
addicted to him.
that whine brings another low sound out of him, an effective growl that claws its way up from the back of his throat and leaves it aching and raw on its exit, and even as vash's hand is guiding his own he's reaching to push the fabric of his shirt higher, higher still until he tug the offending fabric up and over his head. to leave him bare from the waist up, pink and silver scars and all and for a moment, nai finds himself dazed. struck dumb by the miles of pale skin in front of him that has already been marked by the presence of others.
but not by him.
it might be selfish to want this, on both their parts but he can't help the way his hands are already roaming over rough, uneven skin, breath caught in the back of his throat because look what they've done to you, my beautiful brother, look at you — but it doesn't make him any less, it doesn't take away from anything and if he stops to think about it for longer than a handful of seconds, it makes him positively feral. )
—Vash.
( his next exhale is raspy, rough around the edges as he fits the fingers of both hands between the slats of his ribs, pulling him close and licking the taste of blood from his mouth, sucking at the cut on his lip to make it bleed more. ) Beautiful, beautiful boy—
My Vash.