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[ When they were younger, barely a year or so old, Nai was ever-present in his life, in a way that even Rem wasn't. It's undeniable that Vash loved...LOVES Rem, but Nai was a grounding presence, a presence that he constantly gravitated towards no matter what. He learned piano for Nai on some level back then, an unconscious effort to deepen the bond that he would ever have with one other person in the universe. He realizes as he sits where he is, pressed to his brother's body, that perhaps they'd rubberband back together no matter what they did, inevitable.

It had been painful to run. Terrifying to sever a connection that ran so deep. But he'd done it, and he'd done it to protect people he knew would wind up hurt because of them. Because of the anger he'd seen in his brother's eyes. But as he looks now, he sees none of that, only a face that looks far more similar to a boy he remembers all too clearly from those days on the ship, the stars in the background.

It makes his chest warm in a completely different way than the Nai is touching him warms him. Wandering hands feel scalding -- a sensation that Vash is certain is his own reaction to touch rather than the temperature of Nai's hands. It's a one-two punch when nails dig into skin and another hand drags over his ass and it's all that he can do to temper the moan that tumbles into Nai's mouth as a result.

Mismatched hands shoot up to tangle in bright blond hair, and this time they pull, and they pull hard, yanking at the roots of the strands. His hips roll forward into that possessive hold, seeking out the sting of it but also the warmth and friction of the body (his brother's body) underneath him. It's almost too much, for someone like Vash, still yet unused to gentle touch or the way it makes his heart races to hammer in his ears. ]

( 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.

he just wants to feel him. )

[ What? Like he can do it on command? Something about the tone of Nai’s words however, has Vash's mouth run dry anyway even as a breathy laugh almost ALMOST leaves his mouth. He might have even had something to say about it but the sharp, painful sensation of teeth digging into his neck aborts his ability to form cohesive words. Instead, he gasps in a sharp breath of air, the grip on his brother's hair tightening, tugging but not in an attempt to pull him away.

He bites down on his own lip hard enough to draw blood, arching his neck to give Nai room where he is. It's frustrating almost, the way he's held still and made to feel the press of Nai's hips instead of seek it out himself. It's not on command, but another whine escapes from his mouth and this time its uttered right into his brother’s ear. The welts at his hips sting, highlighting the path his brother's hands have taken over his skin where his shirt has certainly been pushed up and over scars and wounds long healed. Earlier, Vash had a mind to be self conscious about the state of his body being exposed but now he feels all too hot in the confines of his turtleneck.

Greedy. Selfish. Don’t want so much. That ugly little voice doesn’t seem to shut up despite his stubborn determination to ignore it. It wiggles around in the back of his thoughts, pushing and pressing against the heated swirls driving his actions right now. Is it selfish to want this, right now? To want it ever? To seek out these kind of indulgent, intimate touches, to feel a little smug that he’s had such a clear effect on the brother that up until now always seemed collected and determined and in control?

He shifts his flesh and bone hand from its grip in Nai’s hair, smoothing fingers over the curve at the back of his skull and down the back of his neck. He skims his hand over the line of that stupid body suit and back down over his shoulders to press his palm against the swell of his brother’s chest, feeling the muscle there for one self indulgent moment before his touch continues to travel, down an arm, over his wrist and finally where Nai’s grip rests, pushing into skin that’s already red from the drag of short nails. He doesn’t hesitate this time, gently guiding Nai’s hand up beyond the cloth of his top and over the expanse of skin underneath. ]

( 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—

My Vash.

Edited (i really need more icons where he isn't just deadass screaming sighs) 2023-09-18 20:14 (UTC)

[ There's no helping it, a hushed laugh is punched out of his lungs the moment his vision is blocked off by the removal of his turtleneck up over his head. He moves his arms to make it just a little bit easier, and once the cool air of the little mushroom hits his skin he almost immediately shivers. Skin prickles up his spine and over his shoulders, the sensation ricocheting all the way back down his arms to his hands where they hold their positions over Nai's wandering ones.

It's funny how he can feel so exposed and cold, but everywhere Nai touches feels like it's being undone, like it's being set aflame despite all logic. It's all he can do to hold still underneath his brother's piercing gaze, the intensity of it making Vash squirm a little where he's seated. But it doesn't stop there and even as Nai leans in and kisses him again, worrying that split lip in a way that makes him a little dizzy he starts talking, compliments and praise and claim—

He can't take it. If the staring wasn't enough, the words that tumble out of Nai's mouth definitely are, spilling over into too much, too embarrassing, words he doesn't deserve. Not from his brother, not from ... anyone. Vash lifts his flesh and bone hand up to press over Nai's mouth even as he shrinks back, his face flush from his ears and clear down his neck. ]

Stop, Nai that's enough. [ He pauses, taking in a deep breath and focusing on the feeling of Nai's fingers on his skin, resting over scars and ribs. He manages the smallest smile as he leans in, pressing kiss-swollen lips to the back of his own hand, ghosting where Nai's mouth should be beyond that. ] It's embarrassing.

[ He'd be a liar if he didn't admit a small part of him reveled in the praise, though. But that's his secret. Since he has the moment, however, Vash takes the opportunity to lift one of Nai's hands up with his free hand and he presses a kiss to the wrist, a little splotch left in the wake of the affection as he fits another at the heel of his palm and again further in. ]

It can't be embarrassing if it's true, can it?

( the words come out of him muffled, pressed to the center of vash's palm where it rests over the line of his mouth, and his brows furrow with the separation, the sudden distance between them. he wants them to be as close as they can be, as close as they've never been, at least not like this.

he lets vash move one of his hands, and the one that hasn't been claimed by a soft, sweet kiss to his wrist brings the other's own away from his mouth, linking their fingers together and, quite frankly, admiring how they look together. ) No one's ever said anything like that to you before … have they?

( he doesn't like to think of how he would react if the answer happened to be yes; of course vash hasn't belonged to him since they were children, or rather they haven't belonged to each other since then, and a long, long time has passed since they were still small enough to fold themselves into a singular bed and have room to spare, spindly legs and all.

anyone else being this close, having vash like this doesn't sit well with him, but he's going to stop his line of thinking right there, because it has no place here. not when he's working on trying to mend that chasm between them.

so: ) You should know how beautiful you are. Haven't you looked in a mirror lately?

( the question is rhetorical, of course, and he tries to push his way forward enough to press the softest kiss to the column of his throat. )

Haha, Nai, what book of pickup lines have you been reading? [ It's a playful deflection, one that utilizes one of those smiles Vash is so quick to slap on his face. ] No. No one's ever said anything like that before.

[ Nai doesn't have to try very hard to reach his goal, really. Vash yields easily enough, keeping their tangled fingers together in favor of dropping his hold on Nai's other hand to settle one back on the back of his neck again. The touch of lips to skin that's usually covered gets the hair on the back of his neck to stand up on end, and a sigh to slip past parted lips.

This isn't nearly as heated as things seemed to have been tumbling towards just a few moments earlier, but it's nice. It's gentle, it's comforting. It feels a little like he's having some wish fulfillment dream, and it's so, so easy to relax and lean into it, to crane his neck just enough to make room for Nai to exist there. The pads of his fingers press into the muscle of Nai's neck, rubbing small circles there at the base of his skull and then down lower in slow, deliberately affectionate touches. He stops after a moment though, his fingers toying with something hard and small that feels attached to the strange bodysuit he's literally never seen his brother remove.

He pulls at it, only vaguely surprised when it gives and he realizes what he's found. He should have figured, considering the state of this place, that Nai's clothes were much more simple(?) than he'd thought they'd be. But, discovery aside, Vash pulls the little zipper latch down and once he can he slips bare fingers underneath the cloth to brush calloused fingers over skin he's certain he's never even seen before. ]

They make books for things like that? ( he asks ( again, rhetorically ) as he nips at the line of his brother's mouth; not sharply, barely even enough to register against the split he's inflicted himself but maybe … maybe bringing the taste of blood back with it again as he pulls back, because pardon you, mister the stampede.

he's just speaking the truth, here. he has been since the beginning of all of this and while it's brought them closer, vash is right in thinking it had been so much … sharper a moment before. a shade more desperate and he'd be lying to himself and vash and god himself if he tried to get away with saying it hadn't been exhilarating. that desperation, that need to have the other body close, to have and taste and test every boundary set by humanity.

because they are not human. and such rules of boundaries shouldn't apply to them, should they? but that line of thought is neither here nor there.

he nuzzles at his neck, sweetly. ) You should be told that all the time … I would, given the chance. ( some might say there is some kind of hopeless romantic in this murderer of a man, and some might be right, though it never seems to quite come to the surface except for when his brother is around. funny, that.

he dips a little bit lower, attention to the shared conversation wavering in favor of mouthing over the line of an exposed collarbone, mapping out the shape of it, the feel of it beneath his lips and the sweep of his tongue, the gentlest press of his teeth that is nowhere near a bite or a nip. just a scrape, really, because sometimes he can't help himself.

it's enough to distract him from the way vash pulls at the zipper now at the back of his suit; something he'd never needed before but is keenly aware of now, and the sound of the slow, downward drag of metal teeth has him flexing his shoulders. bidding — asking vash to touch him where he never has before, where no one else has before, a quiet, infinitesimal gasp filtering up from the back of his throat at such simple contact.

in return, his tongue dips into the space between his collarbones, his teeth bearing down just enough to leave the hint of an indent that will surely fill back in before this is over — but he quickly follows suit with the suction of his mouth, bringing blood to the surface and encouraging a light purple mark to make a home for itself there. a waypoint between the places he's been, and those he hasn't been allowed to touch yet. )

[ There's an attempt to shoot his brother an exasperated look, but it honestly withers in the face of the attention he's given. At this rate, that little cut is going to leave the smallest, lightest of scars. If he thinks about it too much, the idea of that isn't necessarily a bad one, but perhaps a little embarrassing. ]

You don't have to... [ The thought of it though, lights a blush renewed across Vash's ears, his imagination running a little with the sound of his brother's voice in his ear, whispering ridiculous, embarrassing words right at the curve of it. It's not something that he would have dreamed of imagining before, but after today, after he's experienced such a gentle, soft side of his twin, it's all too easy to get caught carried away in his thoughts.

But reality is much sweeter, as it turns out. Vash would have been all too happy to focus on the sensation of lips against skin, but it's the sound that Nai makes, so startled and a little vulnerable and soft. It's something he'd never really considered when his brother came to mind, even less so when in conjunction with himself. He turns his head to press a kiss to his brother's temple, or his hair, whatever it is he can reach. Something in his chest aches a little bit, the heat of it rekindling something from before they'd taken a pause to actually talk a little.

The way Vash twists his hand free from their tangled grasp is a little hurried in hindsight, but it's followed up with a suddenly very breathy, very interested apology. Sorry, brother, holding your hand is nice but— he pulls the zipper down over where it rests over Nai's spine and ends somewhere around his mid-back. Vash doesn't check to see if it's pulled all the way down, instead, he's busy sliding his hands beyond the fabric to touch cool, pale skin with the palms of his hands.

He's so acutely aware of the imbalance of their current clothing situation as he feels the sensation of Nai worrying a bruise to his collarbone, so he curls his fingers inward, dragging his blunt nails up over freshly exposed skin back to where the body suit is now loose around Nai's shoulders. When he speaks this time, the tone of it is different. It's softer somehow, but maybe a little breathless. ]

Nai, off. Please. I want to see.

( how sweet it would be, to leave a scar in the wake of his attentions, a physical reminder of where he's been and ( hopefully, dear god, please ) undoubtedly will be again, the way he desperately wants to map out the scarred lines of his body with lips and teeth and tongue —

well. it should be embarrassing, really. but he's never known anything close to shame, and that could very well be a plant thing — not so given to the whims and wills of mankind, as it were — but it could also be the fact that he's spent the bulk of his time secluded, and doesn't know any better.

little from column a, little from column b. that's where we're leaving it. )

I don't have to, no. But I want to.

( even in passing, when they're passing by one another in their tiny, shared space, even with wolfwood not too far away he could lean in to whisper sweetly against the shell of his brother's ear; you're beautiful, you're lovely, you look good enough to eat and perhaps it will only be because he'll find himself starving after this. willing to give in to a sense of hunger his body informs him of, though a hunger for vash seems much, much more preferable to the need to consume actual food.

( is he still bitter about that? just a little. he'll get over it eventually. )

he takes that breathy apology with a low chuckle in the back of his throat in response, having a feeling of where wandering hands are going once the zipper is pulled near the end of its track. ( the very end of it is somewhere near the top of his ass, but that's for vash to find out for himself, if he wants — )

he sighs at the first touch of fingers against cool skin, shoulders rolling and flexing beneath their light pressure and he only pulls back from the worrying of the bruise at his brother's collarbone when that request comes, and it's his turn to blink a bit owlishly at it, ice chip eyes blown wide and dark with both wonder and want.

leaning in to brush another kiss over the line of vash's mouth, he shrugs the fabric down off of his shoulders in one smooth motion, pushing it down to pool around his hips and leaning back — purposely — with something this side of a shit-eating grin pulling his mouth upward. it's all pale, unmarked skin from his neck all the way down, save for perhaps a light dusting of freckles over his chest and stomach. a constellation of tiny waypoints over a pale, otherwise unmarked canvas. )

You're going to have to get up if you want to see more.

[ Vash is content to chase after the kiss he's given, but the moment his brother leans back and flicks that smarmy, shit-eating grin over his face, Vash's own expression purses into something that's akin to an annoyed pout. It's a shame because he'd been rather curious about the sight in front of him. ]

What's that look for? Don't be annoying.

[ It's funny how easy it is to slip back into a back-and-forth that is so eerily reminiscent of how they interacted as kids. Vash leans back a little as he very blatantly takes an eyeful of the sight in front of him. He's folded his arms across his chest, fingers drumming against the skin and metal of his arms as he exhales a hum. It'd give Nai too much satisfaction to admit just how dry his mouth goes at the sight, or just how badly he wants to touch, fingers clenching against his arms in an effort to hold up his annoyed front.

He shifts in his spot, not relinquishing his spot on Nai's lap as his gaze lingers on one particular cluster of freckles that he's pretty sure he could trace into the shape of a cat's face. He's still grumpy though, so instead of anything gentle, he unfolds his arms from over his own chest to reach out towards his brother. Unceremoniously, he claps both hands against his ridiculously unmarred chest and shoves with his full strength, tipping the both of them forward and hopefully ending up with Nai sprawled on his back and Vash? On his knees, still straddling his brother's hips. ]

I don't think I have to get up at all.

[ Without moving where he's so firmly planted his hands, Vash leans in, pressing a slow but brief kiss to his twin's lips. Maybe it's an apology for the way Nai's head likely cracked against the floor of the mushroom house, but it's also a bit of a distraction as Vash shifts his body weight to slide lower, lips moving away from Nai's mouth to press another kiss to that strangely feline smattering of freckles. He flicks his eyes back up towards where he's left his brother's gaze, but painfully slowly drags his lips lower, over the curve of his pecs and pale skin. Maybe it's an intrusive thought or an attempt at making a point but it isn't long after he dusts gentle attention over what he can reach that he leans in and bites, teeth pinching skin with a laugh. ]

( nothing saying you can't still be curious about the sight in front of you, little brother, but you're the one being so transparent about wanting to see in the first place, and he's not about to let that slide.

did you think he would? and do you presently think he's going to let you get away with that pout, pretty as it is, without laying at least one more nip against the line of your mouth? ) What look? ( he ends up asking mock-innocently, bumping their noses together again. ) I've no idea what you're talking about.

( he's very suddenly gone deaf. shame, that.

but there's a low, simmering heat that makes a place for itself once more in the pit of his stomach as vash looks at him, practically drinks him in and he is going to be smug about that, though it stands to reason that his brother will have his own turn in time — or would, if he were the sort — because once nai gets him out of every stitch of clothing he has on his person, he's going to worship every single inch of him. top to bottom, bottom back up to top and everything in between, because he deserves to have the weight of caring hands on his skin.

loving hands. and in his own way, that's all nai has ever done. love him down to the marrow of his bones, even if he realizes that it's been in the wrong way. he's going to fix that. he's going to fix them —

so enraptured is he by his brother's gaze on him that it gives the younger the advantage he both wants and needs; nai does end up on his back, blink dazedly and almost owlishly up at the other as he remains upright, stunned enough to not give any immediate response, though it wouldn't have been a negative one even if he'd managed it.

he … likes the view he has from this angle. still with his thighs on either side of his hips, hands pressed tight to his chest, yes … he finds he doesn't mind this in the slightest.

his head might have bonked against the floor a bit, yes, but he accepts that apology* kiss for what it is and allows himself to get all wrapped up in the feeling of those soft lips moving lower, mapping him out as he wants to, in turn, and ends up so deliciously distracted that the bite brings a startled almost squawk out of him, especially with that laugh. you little — )

Gremlin. ( he breathes, but it isn't a hiss, and it sounds strangely affectionate. a word they'd learned from one of the many storybooks rem had read to them as children, this one in particular describing a playful, impish sort of thing that may or may not be trusted. his eyes narrow, but it's nothing but playful. )

Pleased with yourself?

[ Later, maybe, when he has time to think through the events of the afternoon that lead to this, the events that this is all leading to, he might give thought to just how different things between the two of them seem to be unraveling already. He's not certain when the last time he felt comfort around his brother rather than a tense thrum of foreboding. He much prefers this, even if it almost feels too good to be true.

Like he's going to wake up back on Noman's Land, with the dust and the heat and he's going to scream. But he very purposefully tears his thoughts away from that, his expression dropping only momentarily before it's replaced again with something for Now.

The chuckle Nai's reaction gets out of him is definitely impish, the sound colored by the way he tilts his head to one side, the mess of blond locks on his head flopping with the motion. The expression on his face makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, the finest of lines dusting across the bridge of his nose in the same way. It's little things like these that those sunglasses so easily tuck away and keep private, little micro-expressions that he's so prone to having. ]

Mm. Maybe. [ He's never had this kind of advantage before over his brother. He thinks for a moment, letting his hands slide lower over the taught muscles that make up his brother's torso, and lower still over the ones that lead down over his abdomen. This way, his hands are practically resting where his legs straddle Nai, the half-discarded body suit already tangled there too. ] You started it.

[ As if to make a point he very carefully, pointedly arches his neck to expose the bite mark that's bloomed over his neck (even though he hasn't seen it, he knows it's there), the purple splotch at his collarbone only a short distance away. It's only fair, if he gets to make his own mark. He'll even be generous and keep it to one (for now) considering that Nai's skin is so pristine. But what he does do is shift down, possibly not quite as gracefully as one could, but close enough— and he presses another kiss to his brother's stomach, above his navel, just where the muscles swell then dip down.

It's his hands that are mischievous this time, gliding over the lines of Nai's hips, fingers curling into and tugging at that stupid, half-unzipped body suit. His lips find soft skin just above fabric and he presses a very pointed kiss there, teeth dragging over the spot like he's trying to see what kind of new, exciting reaction he can garner. ]

( how quickly things have become between them may or may not be because of this place> itself, but if he's perfectly honest, he's not sure that he cares too much about finding out the exact root of the now sprawling path in front of them. where before it had all been so narrow — again, because of all the things he had done — they have more room to move, to maneuver around one another without something else getting in the way. without there being so much tension.

perhaps this place isn't so terrible, after all. even if he's still learning his way around being human. it isn't something he thinks he's likely to ever get truly used to.

he reaches up to thread pale fingers through golden hair when his brother's head tips to the side, as that laugh comes out of him; it's one more reason to touch him, really, without there needing to be a reason behind such a simple thing in the first place, but then … vash had always been the tactile one, hadn't he? so easy and open with his affection toward himself and rem that there had been enough physical touch to go around for the three of them combined.

he's learning that he likes the simplicity of touch. fingers in hair, the brush of knuckles over skin warmer than his own. the press of lips against lips that he has already found he doesn't want to go without, now that he's gotten a taste of them.

and even with all this softness, it doesn't keep him from clicking his teeth in the other's direction. not sharply, or threatening by any means. he's playing in his own way. ) Does that mean you intend to finish it?

( the question comes out of him in a lower rumble than his voice had been a moment earlier, eyes already gone hooded and a shade or two darker in the interim. his gaze passes over the mark at his neck, the one at his collarbone and shifts into something possessive, because yes, i did that, those are the marks of my teeth and they belong on you.

and yes, fair is fair, in the long run. vash is more than welcome to leave his share of marks across the canvas that is his brother's body if he wants. he'll find no complaints here.

the kiss above his navel makes his stomach muscles tighten, tense beneath the press of his mouth but it isn't out of any measure of discomfort; more to the point, it's in anticipation that he watches every little minute shift of movement as vash maps out the lines of him, fingers dipping beneath fabric and exposing more of him with each passing second, and there is no denying the way he pushes slightly upward into the drag of his teeth.

a small sound catches in the back of his throat, and it's not quite a moan, but ir's getting there. ) You're teasing. ( it's supposed to sound accusatory … but it comes out just this side of breathless. )

[ There's something so, so satisfying about dragging a sound like that out of his brother, to hear the breathless tone of his voice and to know that he is the reason Nai's struggling to maintain the composure he so often has. He pushes back at that upward motion of his brother's body, watching the way muscles tense beneath perfect, unmarred skin (well, unmarred save for where he'd bit earlier at least) It makes him feel a little smug, a little proud, and a little pleased with himself. Is he teasing? Yes, but really, unintentionally. Mostly.

Okay.

So maybe he's teasing on purpose. Who can blame him? It's thrilling to have the upper hand, even for just a moment. Especially for something like this. Especially with someone like Nai. It makes his heart beat a little faster to know he's getting this kind of reaction out of his twin brother, the thrill of it enough to override the rumble of nerves he's been pointedly ignoring. ]

Sorry. [ He's not sorry. He does a show of ducking his face to the line of Nai's hip, almost meant to be bashful but it's just an attempt to hide the grin stretching over his mouth. He makes a point to nose over the dip of Nai's hip, peppering kisses and nips over the line that disappears behind that increasingly infuriating fabric.

Eventually, Vash has to shift his body lower, settling his body in between his brother's legs after basically almost bullying a spot for himself there. If he'd had plausible deniability before, with the way he settles where he is, there's little he could do or say to hide what his intentions are while he's down here. His hands slide down to settle at Nai's hips as he ghosts a warm breath right over the shape of what he knows is still hidden underneath that mottled jump suit.

Vash's eyes flick up from where he is, from where they're focused and fixes a heated gaze on his brother. Nai had been feeling playful before, but Vash wonders what thoughts are running through his head now. It's the lightest touch when his mouth drags over that skin tight suit and his eyes only briefly (shyly) glance away from where he keeps it locked on what he can see of Nai's face. There's a lot of confidence in his posture and actions, but it isn't as though this is something he's done before. It's still new, unexplored territory. ]

( unintentional or no, teasing is as teasing does — maybe that was funnier in narration's head, but we're leaving it, so you're going to have to deal with it; any teasing vash might give over now will most undoubtedly be given back to him once nai has the chance to reciprocate even a little, and if he stops to think about it … he might just wonder how their positions ( both figurative and literal ) had been flipped so quickly. so easily.

( oh, how the turns have tabled, mister several kitchen utensils. you reap what you sow, et cetera, et al. )

the very fact that it's thrilling for vash to have the upper hand like this is. well. perhaps thrilling for them both, because if he's perfectly honest? it's a good look on his brother; golden skin flushed against the paleness of his own, the way he ducks his head to hide his grin is almost infuriating, but it's really more endearing than anything else, and if the fingers in his brother's hair tug a bit more sharply at that apology than strictly necessary. hm. have you forgotten who you're dealing with? )

You are not. ( he finally says out loud, breath hitching with each press of lips to exposed skin, the promise of something more always at the edge of everything, and he's sure by the end of it he'll have gone completely mad with how badly his twin makes him want. ) Don't lie to me. You've always been awful at it.

( a truth he'll gladly give over, even though it does nothing to get him anywhere near to having the upper hand again; he swallows, throat just short of audibly clicking with it as vash's mouth teases over the shape of him over the cover of fabric, fabric that may leave little to nothing to the imagination as far as they've gotten, because there is no denying that he is … intrigued.

that's putting it mildly, of course. a few desperate, sweet kisses and bites already have him almost achingly hard and wet between his thighs, and if it were anyone else, he might feel a little bit bashful, embarrassed for wanting this much. but because it's vash?

the sound he lets slip this time is nothing short of a moan. rough and grating and abbreviated because he catches himself, yes, but there nonetheless. )

Vash.

( a plea without really being one, it's all the permission his brother should need to follow through with whatever he has going on inside that beautiful head of his. )

[ He hasn't forgotten who he's dealing with, but maybe, somehow the sharpness and fear that seemed to surround his brother has been blunted. The yank of his hair lifts Vash's head ever so slightly and a muttered "Oh" slips past his lips. Awful huh? Vash laughs, the sound a little more breathy than the one before it, some kind of amusement twinkling in his bright blue eyes. Nai isn't wrong. He's never been a good liar, never really wanted to be either. It was a lot easier to just not say anything, to avoid an answer that was too complicated or too dangerous.

But oh, does the sound that he manages to wrangle out of his brother does something to him. His heart beats a little faster, a little harder, the feeling of it making him a little lightheaded. They're both as human as anyone else here is right now, so perhaps it's with a little earned dexterity and determination that he's able to pull the rest of that fabric down and over his brother's hips, shuffling a little to discard that stupid bodysuit off somewhere else in the tiny main room of the mushroom house with much less care than his own glasses had been given.

There's a moment where he just stares, eyes darkening with unhidden want and desire he hadn't really given a second thought before today. Perhaps it was something else entirely before a little while ago, before their lips had been on each other and Vash had felt something with in him tug him sharply towards the one person in the world he was already forever tied to. But that doesn't matter right now, not when they've so clearly stumbled into this together. Vash finds what he wants to focus on is right in front of him. What he sees in front of him is just as familiar as it isn't, they're twins, and while so much is different it's also the same.

When Vash settles back where he was he turns his face to press a kiss to more pale skin, this time along the inside of his brother's thigh. ]

Nai?

[ It's permission but also Vash feels like pressing for a little more, needling, angling for Nai to voice what he wants. Another kiss is pressed further up, one of Vash's hands settling against Nai's leg while the other drags the backs of his knuckles over the hard length of his twin's cock. More teasing, more flirtatious touches—but Vash has never really been mean and especially not to his brother. He can't really, truly keep it up for too terribly long. Flesh and bone fingers finally finally slip lower, gliding over where Knives is already wet.

Vash finds himself biting down on that same abused spot on his lower lip, absently splitting the angry flesh again as he strokes fingers over folds and spreads that wetness up and over the rest of him to make it easier for his hand to slide up over the (frankly intimidatingly large) size of him and back down. The touch of it is deliberate and purposeful as he watches Nai from his higher vantage point, to drink in the reactions he so desperately wants to see. ]

( there is no forgetting what he's put them through — what he's put vash through, at the bottom of it all — but coming to terms with his actions being the exact opposite of what he needs to bring his brother close to him again, he's actively trying to make it better. make himself better. and maybe somewhere along the way he can gather up some kind of redemption.

( he doesn't deserve a redemption arc, not really, but for vash's sake … the sake of perhaps returning to how they once had been and go beyond that, he thinks he might do anything.

not that they haven't already ventured so far past how they had been before everything had fallen apart. but that goes without saying by now, doesn't it? )

he raises his hips to aid in the removal of that damned suit the rest of the way, all at once feeling overexposed and vulnerable but thinking that if there was ever anyone he knows he could trust to see him like this and not take advantage, it would be vash. it could only ever be vash and there has never been any doubt about that, though even with that revelation, he almost feels compelled to try to close his legs. shield himself, even when —

look at me. only look at me, vash.

it's dangerously possessive and he knows it, but they've been inextricably tied to one another since the moment they'd taken their first breaths, before that. before they'd even been born. it was the two of them and after that, there was nothing. he wants that closeness again so badly that he swears he can taste it.

lips against the inside of his thigh makes the heat building in the pit of his stomach simmer even higher, a shuddering breath in through his teeth that gives away so, so much more than he's letting his expression betray; it's undeniable with the evidence right there in front of his brother, how hard he is, how slick he is from just a few kisses and scattered touches and yes, having never been touched like this by his own hands much less another's has much to do with it, the bulk of it …

it's vash.

his cock twitches against the flat of his stomach when the other's knuckles graze over him, breath catching sharply in the back of his throat and even before that touch moves downward to collect his own wetness on the pads of slender fingers, his moan betrays him where his expression had remained mostly firm. mostly.

low and rough, raw with the depth of it nai peers down the length of his own body, pupils blown wide and dark and almost glassy with want. he swallows hard, the fingers that had been tugging at his brother's hair slipping down to brush over his split lip, thumb pressing over the cut itself. )

Touch me? ( finally comes out of him, though instead of a demand it's more of a question, another plea without the actual please, and he absently sweeps his tongue over his own bottom lip as though it might return some measure of moisture to his bone dry mouth.

it does not. ) Don't just—

( here he is, big bad millions knives practically begging for his brother to touch him properly. ) Stop teasing.

[ There's so little experience between the two of them, though Vash is almost certain he somehow has more than his "elder" brother. Nights with his hands between his own legs were so few and far between, but enough to give him a little guidance now that he's found himself in this absolutely improbable situation. His brother all but begs for more and that shoots heat straight down to what's already straining in his own pants, soaking his underwear almost uncomfortably. But he's so quick to push all that aside and give instead; a habit that he's not easily pulled out of, clearly. Especially when Knives looks at him like that. Especially when Knives sounds like that.

He turns into the press of Nai's thumb to his lip, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of it before he leans away and in one smooth motion gives Nai what he's asking for. His mouth finally finds the core of his heat, the flat of his tongue swiping up over the folds of his pussy.

Like this, gaze focused on what he's doing, Vash's nose bumps against the base of Knives' cock, grinding over the sensitive skin as Vash does his best to pay attention to the rest of him, wastes no time in letting one touch of his tongue glide up higher, his mouth gone again just as quickly as he dives back towards his original goal. He's quick to avoid letting any part of his brother feel neglected, the fingers of one hand wrapping around him and dragging up over the size of him and back down in a motion he's found works for him at the very least.

He has to come up for air eventually, though. ]

Blue, huh...? [ It's a little funny he'd be remarking on the color, especially considering that as he does he drags his lips against Knives again, his hand still languidly stroking over him. Honestly, considering the pleased cat-caught-the-canary look on his face, there's a couple of pegs he needs to be knocked down from. ]

( maybe it wouldn't have surprised him to know that his brother had more experience than he does, if only because he seems more in touch with anything physical; it's been said before that vash has always been the more tactile of the two, and if that ends up meaning that he's more in tune with his own body than nai is. well.

that's just how the pieces fall, isn't it?

he doesn't want vash to push his own pleasure aside, a thought lingering somewhere in the back of his mind that he wants to explore just as much as the other is, now, given the chance. he wants to touch, to taste, to map out the lines of him with lips and teeth and tongue and fingers and if he is already aching as much as he is now, vash has to be much the same, doesn't he?

is he as hard as he is? wet as he is?

the thought alone is enough to drag another muffled sound from the back of his throat, something that ends up even more strangled and almost pained as his brother's tongue finds his core, his center and he would hate how needy it makes him seem if he had enough functioning braincells left to care.

his thighs tense again, spreading even further apart of their own accord as if to invite vash closer than he already is, and damn everything, the next sound out of him might as well be a whine for how strained, how thin it is.

blue, huh?

that whine turns into a growl that catches just behind his teeth, something just this side of rough because how are you commenting on something like that? now? but he supposes it's not entirely out of context, because they've never had a chance to explore each other's bodies like this.

he clicks his teeth, though there really isn't any heat behind it, especially when it's accompanied by a subtle upward roll of his hips, unconsciously seeking out the heat of his brother's mouth. )

Is it— that surprising? ( he's … almost panting, but he can't let vash just make a comment without following up with something of his own, even if there isn't a whole lot of ammunition in his arsenal at the moment. fingers thread back through blond strands and pull hard at the end of his question, more to make a point than anything else, because he does not want to pull him away from the core of his heat by any means.

nails drag over his scalp, the back of his neck, sharply enough to leave marks against his nape in their wake. ) Vash, I want—

( he tries very, very hard not to sound so needy when the words come out of his mouth, but it's anyone's guess whether or not they actually do. )

I want to feel you, too. ( he doesn't say come here just yet, but it's there on the back of his tongue even as his nails scrape again. he's trying to be patient, to let his brother take his time and do what he wants, but he's also more than a bit of a selfish bastard and wants what he wants. when he wants it. )

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. ]

( oh —

so. maybe rem had been very, very liberal with letting her boys know how proud she was of them all the time, how perfect they were regardless of how they turned out with regard to their status as independents — but that sort of praise coming from vash sets his blood on fire to the point that it catches him so off-guard he forgets to breathe for a handful of seconds. long enough to find his lungs burning with it, and his next inhale carving a path through him almost painfully.

( that's something else he's had to get used to; pain and all things adjacent, the bulk of which he'd experienced when he'd first refused to eat until his brother had shoved food into his mouth, but this is something else entirely, something that he thinks he's quickly going to become addicted to, and alongside everything else pertaining to vash …

it's a very dangerous problem to have. )

you will, he says, though he doesn't believe it's going to be anytime soon, not with the mischievous light in his eyes and the way he seems to content to keep right on doing what he's doing; it wouldn't be so overwhelming, he thinks distantly, if he had any measure of experience even with his own body, but since he hadn't really thought to bother before now every single touch from his brother's hands and lips and tongue already find him teetering on the edge of too much, not enough, and it's dizzying in the sense that vash has barely even touched him.

again, it sould be embarrassing, really. but since it's only the two of them and he's never known what it is to feel shame, that sort of thing is off the table.

he tries to say something in response to the last words out of the other's mouth, tries to get something in edgewise but he doesn't have a chance. not when the heat of his mouth is suddenly engulfing his cock and the sound startled out of him isn't quite a moan so much as … almost a cry, sharp and abbreviated with the next hitch of his breath and the way his hips stutter to keep from pushing further. deeper.

one hand stays curled around the back of vash's neck while the other combs through messy blond hair, just for something to do because he can't remain completely idle, fingertips brushing sweetly, reverently over the beat of his pulse, thumb seemingly absently grazing over the earring he'd given him for their birthday.

there's barely a sliver of color left in his eyes when he catches vash's gaze again, the thinnest ring of icy blue surrounding deep, endless black and he's unconscious of the way his thighs seek to spread even wider for him, to bare even more of himself for his brother, as if he didn't already belong to him completely in this moment.

and every other, but that's neither here nor there. ) You're— ( perfect. wonderful. lovely. mine —

his inner muscles twitch around nothing and suddenly he feels achingly empty, slick coating prosthetic digits where they tease but go no further, and he wants so badly that he's dripping. ) God, Vash, you're unbelievable.

( please. more. )

[ It's incredibly self satisfying to know he's the reason his brother is coming to pieces right now. If Vash were the type, he'd probably feel smug knowing the fact that it's his mouth and his hands that have his brother nearly begging in front of him, legs spread open in a way that Vash KNOWS no one else has had him. It's what has him racing down this path to pull whatever sound he can manage from Knives' throat, and he's only rewarded for his efforts by every little gasp or whimper or moan. The best part, though, is the praise. It makes sense that that seems to be something that the both of them enjoy.

To be honest, it's the small touches that are the most encouraging, the soothing presence of familiar fingers at his pulse, the encouraging sensation of fingers carding through his hair. Vash exhales a hum around where his mouth is currently busy, each slide of his lips overheated skin getting more and more bold, a little more of him disappearing into his mouth before he slides up again. He feels Knives' dick hit the back of his throat, and for a moment it takes effort not to gag around him. It certainly puts a stutter in his rhythm as he takes a moment to breathe and another to look up at his brother like some kind of check-in.

He's absolutely certain that the look he sees on Knives' face is one he wants to see again, if he's let to.

He's not going to tease Knives forever, either. Though he doesn't directly ask for it, it's almost like Vash understands anyway. Maybe it's because they're twins, in tune with one another in a way literally no one else in the universe is. Or maybe it's because from where Vash is, where his fingers are currently playing, there's no denying the reaction that he's getting from is dear "elder" brother. He slips two fingers in where Knives' body is busy clenching around nothing, prosthetic digits pressing against hot, wet walls as Vash makes an effort to curl them in just the way he knows feels the best when he's done it to himself.

Distantly, he wonders if he can get his brother to come while they're like this, his mouth and hands doing their best to wring Knives dry. It would be worth it to try, to give at LEAST that much. It gives him a goal to reach before he might give in to Nai's earlier request. ]

( if he's perfectly honest with himself — really, truly honest — he doesn't think there could ever have been another that could get him like this. there could never be another that could even hope to try and, again, that's a line he's crossing with the thoughts of human boundaries, but they're there all the same, and there really is no coming back from them, is there?

whatever vash wants to pull from him, sound or reaction or some measure of both, they're only ever going to be his. for the taking, for the keeping because he doesn't want anyone else to have them. because what they have here is something nothing and no one else can touch, and he intends ( hopes, prays, please ) to keep it that way.

the praise going both ways … it surprises nai more than it surprises vash, it seems. but then, he hasn't heard anything like it since rem, has he? since she'd called them both her perfect boys.

( he doesn't deserve it and he knows it. but. that's neither here nor there. )

you want to see him like this again? you don't even have to ask —

because even where knives' own plea falls short, asking but not, begging but not, vash fills in the spaces between his words like fingers parsing out braille; he knows what he isn't saying without him even having to hint at more, and when those two prosthetic fingers press inside him, when they curl he nearly doubles over. nearly pulls himself as tight as a plucked bowsting, that mouth around him and those fingers inside him wringing his pleasure from him as though it wasn't his to give in the first place, but vash's to mold as he sees fit.

he isn't going to last like this. he isn't going to last and he hates the thought of it, because vash hasn't let him touch and he wants to touch so badly that he sobs out his next moan, breath hitching and cutting into his throat like something tangible. bleeding on its exit. )

Vash.

( his teeth grit around his name, a snarl more than anything else, fingers pulling at his hair and pressing harder into the column of his throat in turn, even as his hips give a traitorous buck upward.

baby brother … you are going to be the death of him. you know that, don't you? )

[ He knows. Maybe he always has known. But that's a secret he's going to carry to the grave, selfishly keeping that knowledge to himself for use whenever he wants it. It's so addicting, sitting where he is, with the view he has. The way his brother clenches around his fingers and strains to keep his hips still more than enough to make Vash ache in his pants.

It's a need he's pretty sure he hasn't felt before, a want to drive his brother past that last thread of control... He's certain he's nearly there when Knives almost doubles over, his pants turning into hitched moans. It's really all the encouragement he needs to double his efforts, fingers gliding over that same spot again and again. He's so wet that the sound of it is practically obscene.

But as determined as he is there's only so much ignoring he can do when it comes to the pressure and pain of having his hair pulled like that, especially when it's coupled with a press of fingers into his throat that make him a little light headed. Even with the buck of Knives' hips Vash eventually decides to relent, shifting a little to give in to what's being practically growled at him. He drags his tongue and lips over Knives one last time before his lips part from his dick with a wet sound, his hand following the motion with careful strokes.

This direction of events might be what Nai wants, but the amused expression on his face makes it clear that He can tell just what kind of effect he's had on Knives' body. Maybe it's a little shit eating, the heated, blown eyed expression he fits on Nai now that he's no longer making an attempt to swallow his older brother whole. ]

Nai...? [ A question he doesn't really need an answer to because he already knows. His voice is hushed, a little rough, and practically rumbling with interest as he breathes in a deep breath. He smooths both hands over Nai's inner thighs, thumbs pressing into muscle in what should hopefully be a little soothing. ]

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