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[ Op, there they go, clear over the couch, and onto the floor. The couch comes WITH them, toppling over to slam onto the ground as the brothers roll away, Vash landing on top with his hips straddling Nai, and somehow, the honeybun STILL in one of his hands. If he wants his brother to eat it, he's not going to let it get nasty on the floor.

Vash doesn't even seem bothered by the tumble, despite being no more or less human than his brother right now in this moment. His expression is angry though, angry simmering full of concern and frustration. After all of this THAT'S what he's concerned about?

It's fine, he'll finish that unfinished sentence for him. ]

Because you're as good as human?

[ The words are practically growled, a tone of voice he doesn't use often. Only when he's frustrated, desperate, and determined. ]

I'm not going to let you wither away because you're too stubborn to see that you're wrong!

( at least it's just the two of them in the mushroom for now — he's not about to explain why they're rolling around on the ground, not only because it's no one's business but theirs, but. there really is no good explanation for it other than they're just plain caught up in being full stupid. check back later.

don't you dare finish that sentence for him, vash —

except of course he does, and as distracted ( and maybe just a little bit winded for having sent them tumbling ) as he is by his brother's weight straddling his hips, those words are enough to bring a stunted sort of snarl from the very back of his throat. matching his brother's tone vibration for vibration.

he knows he's serious, but he's not about to give up, even though he has long since realized his continued resistance is futile.

~~you have no idea how hard it is not to make a borg joke right now. damn everything.~~ )

How would you feel? ( he asks very suddenly, through mostly-gritted teeth, like even this much is coming too close to agreeing with you're as good as human. ) If you'd never had to eat, never had to sleep, and were told that such things made you arguably perfect? ( his followers, the plant worshippers, anyway … some of them would trip over themselves to tell master knives just how perfect he was.

it was sickening, sometimes, but. there was no denying that independents were supposed to be the embodiment of perfection. at least after all the conditioning he's been through, without seeing it as such. )

And then you wake up. And you hurt. And you're tired. And there had never been any reason to warn you against it, so you had no idea what to expect. But. ( he pauses, and he realizes that his hands have come to rest against vash's thighs of their own accord. ) It made you feel less like yourself than you've ever felt.

[ Maybe Knives hadn't meant it the way Vash takes it (or maybe he did.) But Vash softens a little, his expression shifting to something far less desperate and angry. It's something worried in a different way, something gentle and quick to rebut. But there's something else too, like an old wound has had its scab scratched off and reopened. He's quick to look away, his hands settling on his brother's shoulders as he fixes his gaze somewhere else while he makes a grand effort to hide the turmoil in his chest. ]

I guess I wouldn't know what it's like to be perfect. [ It's basically muttered under his breath, aimed away from Knives as he sets his shoulders stubbornly. When he looks back, he's managed to shove the hurt he's caused himself back into the deepest reaches of his mind. Instead, he leans down towards his brother, his hands lifting to settle at either side of his head, fingers curling over his ears as he presses his forehead to Knives' own, like he's done so many times with the tanks their sisters are in. ]

You're still you, Nai. You're still my brother. You're still...

[ Perfect. ]

( the instant the words are out of his mouth he regrets letting them slip up in the first place; of course vash wouldn't know what that is like, being an independent but still so close to being human even without any of his inherent plant properties being taken away from him upon his arrival here.

it makes his stomach churn, his chest ache when his brother looks away from him and he's reaching for him even before vash moves himself, before they're forehead to forehead nai is smoothing his own hands over the other's sides, up until he can curl them both around either side of his neck, breath caught in the back of his throat in the sort of apology there aren't the correct words for. )

That's not what I meant, Vash, I'm— I'm sorry, that isn't what I meant at all.

( forehead to forehead now, he dares to brush their noses together in the smallest, if not entirely subtle nuzzle. ) Rem always said you were exactly as you were meant to be, and that's true. And now … we're the same. ( he pauses, and nuzzles again, boldly. )

It's how we were always meant to be.

[ It's hard to swallow the shock of an apology coming from his brother, let alone the gentle way he's touching him now when they were just bickering and flailing and fighting a moment ago. It makes Vash's breath catch in his throat, his frame stilling almost like a deer caught in headlights.

It's like a spell, the way their noses brush together and Knives repeats words that had worked to soothe his anxieties about not being good enough from their childhood. It's hard not to turn into the touch, the nuzzling. ]

You're not any different than you were, Nai. You're still my brother.

[ THAT'S what matters, isn't it? ]

( it had shocked him, too, how easily the apology had come out of him, and even though he has yet to give his apologies for everything else he'll end up giving them over for in the future, this is a very, very small step in the right direction. isn't it?

( they're not fighting anymore, that much is worth saying it's a step in the right direction. )

he takes a moment to breathe — he's getting used to things like that, the sort of things that are autonomous for most others, like the beat of his heart at the center of his chest that seems to sync up with vash's now that they're this close. the fingers pressed lightly to either side of his brother's neck pick up the steady thrum of his pulse ( thump, thump, thump, thump ), and exhales slowly into the minimal space between them. )

At least that can't be taken away from me. ( yes, that's what really matters, and with those words out of his mouth, it's as if nothing else really does. )

[ He doesn't have a hand on his brother's pulse point, but he can swear he can hear Nai's heart slow down with his own now that they aren't wrestling for control or dominance or to make a point. Vash exhales a breath through his nose. What's said though, almost makes Vash's own heart stop.

It's so bitter, and—he thinks— scared, that he turns his head to return the nuzzle from before. Just a small, comforting touch, his hands shifting to drag through the shorn short portion of his brother's hair. It's probably too much, this kind of affection, and he stops soon after he does it. ]

I wouldn't let it happen, Nai. No one.

( rip that poor honey bun, wherever it ended up once they'd stopped their fumbling and rolling about.

he is a bit calmer, now, much more so than he had been before, and it may have a little bit to do with vash's weight bearing down on him; like a weighted blanket, almost, a comforting thing that might remind him of when they were much, much younger and would curl up together while rem read them a story before bed.

well. before vash turned in. and nai had watched him sleep, sometimes, when they were that young. because a part of him had wondered what it felt like — and now that he has no choice but to find out, that part of him has filtered back to the surface, willing him to take that chance to find out.

there's a small sound that catches just behind his teeth when the affection of his brother's hands in his hair stops — it's a whine, really, but he'll deny any and all allegations to as much — and he follows it with a sigh. something knowing, but just a bit melancholy. )

There's nothing that exists that can break the bond of blood, little brother. ( vash might have reeled himself in with his open affection, but nai lifts a hand to stroke long fingers over the curve of his cheek, the bridge of his nose, the arch of an eyebrow. ) But I do appreciate the sentiment.

[ If Vash notices the whine (he does) he doesn't say anything about it. Instead he watches his brother with a likely unervingly hard to read expression, the lines of his face flat as he stares down at Knives with almost uncharacteristic intensity. It seems to soften as his brother's fingers brush over the features of his face, and eventually Vash lets out a sigh that's almost like an inflatable pool toy being deflated. ]

I don't want to lose you either, you know. It's not like I wanted anything like that.

[ He clenches his fists a little, the action repeated again and again, like he's looking for something to do with his hands. ]

That's why I'm trying to help. But you're so stubborn and you never listen to me.

[ It's practically petulant. Sure he probably could have gone about this in a better way, but it's the thought that counts right? ... honestly, the both of them could do to learn that the method of getting somewhere does, in fact, matter. ]

( nai has seen that kind of intensity in his brother, unbeknownst to him; it almost unnerves him here, tentative as their beginnings have been without vash knowing everything about the point in their timeline nai had come from — but at least it's familiar, something he can hold onto even though he's trying not to let things escalate further.

( where had the honeybun gone, anyway? if vash is flexing the fingers of both hands as he is, that means it's gone missing in action, and it's probably rolled under the couch they've just rolled over the back of themselves and lost itself to whatever dust bunnies that have made a home for themselves underneath.

rest in fuzz, you little debbie reject. )

nai sighs, a quiet thing in the back of his throat and reaches for his brother's hands, takes them in his own and rubs the pads of his thumbs over the backs of his knuckles. he's not sure what else he can try to do to appease him, not right in this particular moment, but he thinks about the other snacks he'd brought back, and wonders if the bag he'd left is still somewhere amongst the couch cushions. )

You never listen to me, either, you know. ( he says it to be funny, as a joke, and he hopes vash takes it as such. ) … Where did your bag of snacks go?

( maybe. he'll actually try something. if you don't try to force feed him. )

[ That's the problem isn't it. That both of them talk but neither of them listen, too wrapped up in their own perspectives and trauma to really hear what the other is saying. To understand each other. ]

I guess that's something we need to work on. [ There's a frown on his features and if his eyes look a little wet, they don't. That's no one's business. His gaze is fixed on the thumbs dragging over his knuckles and Vash thinks distantly that it's been such a long time since he and his brother had shared gentle touches like this, like the ones to his face only a little while ago. It's a little lopsided, Knives being the one to offer the soothing touches while Vash had been the one to practically send them tumbling over the ground with desperate aggression and something akin to guilt tugs at the deepest point of his stomach.

Until Knives speaks again and he blinks, looking up from their hands to look for the sack of snacks with a straightened back like a meerkat looking out for predators. ]

Table.

( learning how to listen is something they both need to work on, isn't it? maybe they need to seek out some couples' therapy, or something.

( last narration checked, toji freaking fushiguro had the title of therapist held pretty steadfast. whether or not he's any good at it is anyone's guess, considering the source. )

i guess that's something we need to work on.

he's right, and he should say it again; even if his brother's eyes don't look just a little bit wet ( they absolutely do, but no one is about to call him out on it, at least not right now ), he reaches to brush the pads of both thumbs just beneath them anyway, the soft sort of motion he might have gone through when they were still very young and very new and someone had a nightmare they didn't want to talk about. )

I suppose it is. ( he says quietly, just as soft as his touch to the delicate skin just above his cheekbones, and he follows vash's gaze toward the table with a small sigh accompanied with a tap to one bony hip. ) Up. ( it's all he offers at first, and then: ) Let's … see what else you've brought back with you. ( he's going to try something, all right?

but that doesn't mean he's going to enjoy it. )

[ It's USUALLY called family therapy, Nai.

Vash isn't looking at Nai when he touches his thumbs to his face, but he does freeze in the moment, muscles slowly relaxing as the pads of his brothers thumbs try to wipe away tears that only really threatened to fall, but never did. It's weirdly familiar and somehow makes his chest ache a little, his gaze flicking to look back down at Knives with an awed confusion.

It might take him a long time to get used to touches like this, gentle and intimate in a way that's only between two people who have known each other all their lives. He almost misses the tap to his hip or the request one would toss casually at a pet rather than a sibling—but he doesn't complain, and instead he moves as asked, pulling himself up to his feet to right the couch before doing anything else.

Like he's still processing what his brother's said. Once he DOES however, he blinks at Knives, his expression carefully neutral. ]

Really?

( and there's the joke. we'll just leave it right where it is.

they're still so new at this — at least, going back as far as when they were children, and physical touch and intimacy was easy for them — and this may have started as a silly fight over an oversaturated, sugary confection, but he really is trying to get a foothold in knowing where they can go from here.

he doesn't want to move, not really, when this sort of thing feels so much more normal than it should with how estranged they've been, but. he had bid vash up, and it's his own fault for mourning the loss of his body heat and the weight of him against him when he finally extracts himself from their tangle of limbs and sets the couch upright again.

nai sits up, folding his legs beneath him in a way that makes it seem like he floats upward rather than … well, executes any movement that resembles that of a human, huffs out a soft noise of ascent and nods. )

Perhaps something a bit less tooth-rottingly sweet? ( he's well aware of whom he's speaking to, but he has to try, right? )

[ Anyone else might have been bothered or weirded out by the strange way Nai manages to stand, but Vash pays it no mind, it's just normal Nai things. He's always been graceful (when he's not slamming through windows). ]

It's mostly junk food, actually. Sorry. [ He lifts a hand to brush through his hair, frowning as he reaches over to grab the bag with one hand. The other is quick to start rooting around, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. In hindsight, if he wanted his brother to eat, maybe he shouldn't have bought things with his own tastes in mind. ]

I should have looked for better options.

[ He does, however pull out a bottle of water. That much, at least, he was sure to get. He holds that out, the food items inside the bag a jumbled mess. ]

( look, there is no graceful way to slam through a window, all right? especially when you're chasing after your brother that won't share the interdimensional nuke cube.

in vash's defense, how could he have bought things with nai's tastes in mind, when he's never had a need to figure out what his tastes are before now? of course it stands to reason that no one could ever have the kind of sweet tooth his twin does, and he's going to realize quickly enough that he prefers savory things instead, but. he doesn't know what he likes, or what he doesn't like, other than he's pretty sure that honey bun might have killed him. how can something that's supposed to be edible smell that sweet? it just doesn't seem plausible. or edible.

nai comes to pick through the bag a bit for himself,seeing nothing that seems even remotely appealing, even to his underdeveloped palate, but he does take the bottle of water without complaint. plants do need water, you know.

he pointedly takes a small sip while maintaining direct eye contact with his brother, re-caps the bottle and sets it back down on the table. ) Happy? ( and perhaps after a moment too long of lingering silence, he adds to the very end of that question: ) You were only concerned with getting me to eat … not exactly what I was going to eat. Right? ( he shakes his head. )

I'll go with you next time.

Edited (adding stuff don't worry about it) 2024-01-03 21:01 (UTC)

[ Water isn't food, but it's a step up from nothing. So Vash does his best to school the hint of disappointment from his face. Nai maintains eye contact but Vash doesn't, his head turning to the side.

He should give his brother credit. Instead of being a little shit he offers Nai a softer expression, silent gratitude. In the same breath he makes his next suggestion: ]

We can go now. [ There's got to be something at one of the shops that you'll eat. He turns, stepping to look around the both of them for a moment. He grimaces at the mess they've made and immediately starts to straighten things up a little. Maybe it's nervous energy or something else that he's working off but he doesn't want to stare at his brother while he waits for his answer. ]

( water isn't food, no, but it is something to all plant-life, isn't it? a-hyuck —

( no, we aren't sorry for that and no, we aren't taking it back. you're going to have to deal with it. )

he notes the way his brother doesn't maintain eye contact, eventually turning his own gaze downward toward the table's surface and its contents, at least until vash speaks up again. he takes that silent gratitude for what it is and stows it away for some time in the future when he thinks he might need that softness. for whatever reason.

he doesn't speak up again until they've managed to make the place look like it hadn't just staved off some kind of world war, the couch back in its rightful place and everything else assuming some sort of order.

then, he breathes out a sigh. ) Now? ( almost like a small child having been told it's time to do something it does not want to do, but he had said he would go with him … so. )

All right, now. But no more sweets. ( a beat of a pause, and then: ) … Please.

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slides in late all sorts of sheepish

waves hands around don't even worry about it

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