fourstrings | lies on the lips of a priest

lies on the lips of a priest

[ When you live the kind of life Wolfwood does, you have to have rules in place. Like: some things you remember, and some things you forget, because if you don’t do the second thing there’s no way you’ll survive the first. Or: children are pure, and adults, in general, are shit. Or: People can call him Wolfwood (for preference), Punisher (if it’s work), or Nick (at a stretch), but nobody gets to call him Nico anymore. Or: it’s better to fuck without kissing if you can get away with it, because kissing – faces close so close you share breath, the thing that everyone needs to keep living – is how you catch feelings.

Vash has an irritating way of blasting right through all his rules.

Rule one, they’ve done okay with. He can’t remember what it was that tipped him off that the restless, fidgeting way Vash tossed and turned when they shared a bed meant he wanted to cuddle. And that’s good, because it’s probably some tearjerking, traumatic bullshit that causes Vash to be so fucking anxious when someone’s that close that he can’t be at ease unless they wrap him up close and kind. He did, though; figured it out, caught Vash up in his arms and felt the other man go pliable and sweet in his embrace, and he finally managed some fucking sleep. After that is where is all turned to shit. They next time they’d done it Vash had just been watching him with those big, clear eyes, his permanent blush starker even in the dark, and maybe it was some stupid plant power at play but Wolfwood lost his mind and kissed him. It had been good, warm and wet and heated, and Vash had said please, Nico, can I- with his hand already halfway in Wolfwood’s pants and of course he’d said yes. But when it came time to repay the favour Vash had brightly said oh, that’s okay, I’m actually really tired! and immediately done the worst job of pretending to fall asleep Wolfwood’s ever seen in his life, complete with little snoring sounds that were a hair’s breadth from the honk-shooo mimimimimi bullshit you see in old cartoons.

The next time they’d done it Vash had kissed him first, and he’d been really into it until he shoved one of his thighs between those stupidly long, slender legs with the idea of grinding it against Vash until he had no option but to let Wolfwood give him a blowjob or at least a handy, and realized Vash wasn’t hard. That had felt shitty, but he still let Vash get him off, and that’s how he knows he fucked up when he broke his rule: he kissed, and then he had to lay there feeling like worm shit after he finished and Vash answered his groping hand with thanks, but that was enough for me! and faked falling asleep again.

This time, when Vash thrashes around and Wolfwood pulls him in close, he jerks his head back when Vash leans in for a kiss. He wants it – of course he does – but his stomach’s sour as a hangover when he thinks about going through that whole performance again. Rocking his hardon against a pelvis so flat Vash might as well be one of those dumb boy dolls they make so the dolls with long blonde hair and ballistic plastic tits have someone for little girls to marry them to, coming in a way that makes him want to watch Vash’s face and tell him things he doesn’t tell anyone, laying there hating himself for it when Vash makes fake little mnm mnm sleep sounds.

He squints against the dark. A wasted effort, when the colour of Vash’s big eyes almost seems to glow, but he does it anyway. ]

You know you don’t have to do all that shit. I’ll still hold you.

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[ No way. It's too risky. If Vash is wrong, it'd be a fucking catastrophe. Even if somehow Knives doesn't personally murder him, what kind of issues might it trigger for Vash? And what kind of life is this, to bring a child into? It'd be nothing less than cruelty. Tomorrow he'll find a drugstore, buy some condoms, give Vash exactly what he's asking for, but for tonight he needs to keep it locked down, maybe just keep Vash so busy with anything else he can think of that he forgets all about it. ]

Yeah. Yeah, of course. I've wanted you since before I knew I could even have you like this. Almost since we met.

[ Apparently his brain isn't getting a say, tonight. He kisses Vash again, just as slow, a little more heat in it this time. ]

You want me like this? On top?

[ there is a not-so-small part of vash that wants to ask if wolfwood decided he was into him before or after he tried to slap them with a $20,000 bill, but wolfwood's mouth is on his before he gets the chance. maybe it's one of those mysteries that's better left unsolved.

but the question makes him blink. it's hard to think past the spike of arousal it prompts, settling into that knot of pressure between his legs, but. it, uh... feels like something he should actually think about? he doesn't have any experience to tell him if the prosthetics are going to make things unwieldy, if there's a position that might make it a little better. ]

Feels like I should be asking you. [ but wolfwood's so close that vash can't resist the urge to lean up and kiss him. slow and sweet, just liking the fact that he's allowed. still, it's not enough to spare wolfwood from his gremlin streak. which is why he gets a wink, and a cheeky little: ] You're the one who's putting in all the work.

[ That gets a little snort, and the thought that he should make Vash take the top just to teach him a lesson. But things were... intense there, for a second, so. ]

Mm. I want to see your face. [ He smiles, cheeky. ] This time, at least. Next time, we'll get creative.

[ And there's so much to get creative with! But for now, the basics are good. Just two people with a slightly higher than average number of sex organs between them, expressing their affection for each other.

He pinches his lips together briefly to avoid laughing at that thought, because he doesn't want to have to explain it. Covers by leaning in for another kiss and slipping a hand down between them to stroke between Vash's legs, and hums low at the feel of it. That gets him back on track. ]

You still feel so good. All wet and soft.

[ next time! creative! he really likes the sound of both of those. which is why his expression lights up with a smile in return, something that sticks around even when wolfwood leans down to kiss him again.

and honestly, he's so focused in on the kiss that he forgets to keep track of wolfwood's hands. so that touch catches him off-guard, makes him break the kiss with a sharp inhale as his hips buck up greedily into wolfwood's hand. ]

Glad I'm servin' it up just the way you like it. [ which is an award-winningly stupid thing to say when someone has their hand between your legs, but wolfwood knows who he's in bed with. ]

[ He knows, and he loves it. He grins wolfishly, lets his touch drift up a little to lightly tease over the nub there - not enough, he doesn't think, to draw it out, but enough to remind Vash that he knows. ]

I don't usually go in for seconds so soon after I ate. Looks like I've got a new favourite treat.

[ A little shifting, and he lines himself up. Doesn't press in just yet - wraps that hand around himself instead, uses it to rub the head of his cock against those petals, suddenly desperate to know how they'll react. ]

[ evil! wolfwood's fingers find the little nub that marks the head of his dick and rub teasingly over it, and vash jerks his hips into the touch with a little whine. already, there's a familiar sort of pressure there -- not quite to the point of unbearable, but enough to make the fingers of one hand twitch with the urge to reach down and help it slide free.

but, ah. wolfwood settling down properly between his thighs is a distraction all on its own, and --

the way he rubs the head of his dick against vash's cunt is enough to make his breath hitch. the petals aren't anything that he can control -- not consciously, anyway -- but they seem just as drawn to wolfwood as the rest of vash is. they curl themselves forward like they're trying to coax him in, fluttering around the swollen head of his dick in a way that makes vash squirm. ]

A-Ah, you -- [ swallowing hard, trying to make it sound like a complaint. ] You coulda called me dessert.

[ Fuck. He's not even in yet and it's incredible - someday soon he's gonna do this at an angle that lets him see what's happening, but he gets the idea from the feel of it. The fluttering, stroking feel of those petals against his cock like an invitation, encouragement - it's like nothing he's ever felt, and he groans as he continues to rub there. ]

Nah. You're sweet, but I'm not a big dessert guy. Couple of bites is enough for me. You, on the other hand?

I can't get enough.

[ And on that awful zinger, he pushes in. It knocks the cockiness right out of him - the way Vash felt around his fingers gave him some indication, but not nearly enough to prepare him. Soft and wet and hot, yes, but there's a kind of firmness to those slick inner walls that makes it feel almost like Vash is squeezing him right off the bat. It's insane, and he slides in slow. Drops his forehead to Vash's shoulder as he presses in inch by blissful inch, breath caught in his throat. ]

[ it's actually a little amazing, how wolfwood can say something like that to him and vash can still be so into it. yeah, yeah, he could say. call me a whole buffet.

he doesn't. but mostly only because wolfwood is pressing in before his mouth gets the chance to come up with something terrible.

instantly, every other thought scatters. it's a tight fit, enough to knock the breath out of him, even though he's wet enough to make the job easier. wolfwood's dick is a line of searing heat in him, stretching him in a way that makes vash dizzy. ]

Oh. [ he says, mostly to the ceiling. ] Oh, wow.

[ It's probably rude to laugh when someone is very kindly letting you put your cock in them for the first time, but he does. Breathed out, a little huff before he manages to lift his head. ]

Wow's right. I've never - never felt anything like this.

[ This better turn into a long-term thing, because human pussy - until this very moment one of the best feelings in the known universe according to Wolfwood - has nothing on Vash. He's fucked. If Vash changes his mind, Wolfwood's gonna spend the rest of his life begging. He lifts his face to kiss Vash, deep and searching and grateful, because how else could he be? ]

[ hnng. wolfwood has done nothing but stick it in, and vash already feels dangerously close to becoming a drooling lump. he can feel the way the petals have folded themselves inward to hug the base of wolfwood's cock, some instinctive measure to try and keep him there, like his body knows exactly where wolfwood belongs. there's a part of him that's itching to wrap his legs around wolfwood's hips and see if he can get him to sink just a little deeper, but. he's acutely aware of the fact that it probably wouldn't be great to get kicked in the kidneys by a prosthetic limb, and it seems very rude to go and do something like that when wolfwood's been nice enough to stuff him full like this.

and kiss him. wow.

he tips his chin up into it, reaching up to tangle a hand in wolfwood's hair. moaning a low sound as their tongues slide together, so hot all over he can barely stand it. ]

[ It's so close to too much. Unimaginable. The way Vash catches a hand up in his hair, the sweet way he opens to the kiss, moaning at it, giving as good as he gets. And lower, the clutch of those petals just adding to a sensation that was already dangerously good.

It feels like a risk to start moving before he has a chance to adjust properly, but how the fuck's he ever supposed to adjust to this? So the throws caution to the wind, draws out slow and rocks back in, and the movement of it makes him all too aware of those little inner ridges he'd felt before and the sweet drag of them over his dick. ]

Vash.

[ wolfwood rocks back, and vash whines at the loss. kinda forgets that doing that is at least half the point of sex, but maybe that's what happens when you fuck around with celibacy for a century.

and, besides! he makes up for it -- more than makes up for it -- when he presses back in, nice and slow and smooth. vash makes a shameless little sound of pleasure at the feeling of it, eyes rolling back and lashes fluttering. ] Nico.

I k-knew you'd feel good in me, I knew. [ a stupid, senseless rush of words. ]

Yeah? Good. I wanna make you feel - [ a pause, because it's hard to keep a train of thought running on time when Vash is so tight but lets him slide in so sweet ] - good, just as good as you feel for me.

[ Back at the orphanage he was too young for the don't do drugs videos they showed the older kids, but he'd snuck in once to see what all the fuss was about. They were dumb, mostly, but there was one segment about some crazy new shit and how one hit was all it took to become addicted. Sounded like bullshit even then, but now he gets it. He could get addicted to this so easy. The feel of it, so strange but just like it's what he was meant for, the way Vash sounds, so needy when he draws out, so pleased when he slides back home. Every moment he's not doing this, he's gonna crave it. ]

[ ah, fuck. that gets him good, especially when wolfwood punctuates it with another firm slide into him. vash makes a little wrecked noise, the muscles of his cunt giving a little flutter of arousal that makes him see stars. ]

I wanna be good. Nico, I wanna be good for you. [ reaching up to hook his human arm around wolfwood's shoulders, conscious that he better leave the prosthetic out of the question in case he wants to risk squeezing and popping wolfwood's head off. too breathless for a proper kiss, so he's just planting them whenever he can reach -- the scritchy stubble on wolfwood's jaw, the corner of his mouth. ] You'll let me, right?

[ and fuck, the pressure between his legs is an ache. the way wolfwood's cock grinds up against the crown of his dick on every thrust in makes his vision swim, the pleasure buzzing along the surface of his skin like something electric. ]

You already are. So good for me, so sweet -

[ Just hearing that, like pleading, makes telling Vash he's good almost as important as that heated slide into the tight depth of his cunt. Wolfwood needs him to know, to believe it. To understand why he's the only one allowed to call him Nico, why Wolfwood can't help but kiss him even when he knows better. Fuck, he'd tell him he's worth the risk of being with him like this if he didn't think knowing would shatter him - not because Vash is so trusting he's foolish, he's pretty sure Vash knows he joined their little group with ulterior motives, but because he's so fucking pure he'd hate the fact that Wolfwood chooses to bait danger just to be with him. ]

Just like this. Just how you are.

[ wolfwood might as well have wrenched off that metal grate, slid his hand down through thick layers of scar tissue and wrapped his fingers right around vash's heart. his next breath stutters, hiccuping in a little sob, and fuck. he feels flayed open, all the tender parts of him exposed, and it hurts but it's good.

he forgets about being careful. wraps his legs around wolfwood's waist, buries his face into the crook of the other man's shoulder, and moans when the next inward slide lets wolfwood press just a little bit deeper.

and fuck, he can't stand it. the prosthetic arm is a bulky thing to try and get between them, but it feels like he'll go crazy if he doesn't help his dick ease out. fumbling at the task of it, fucked so good that even his hands have gone clumsy and useless. ]

[ Vash wraps his legs around him, and it's good. The deeper slide of it, the warm cradle his thighs make for Wolfwood's hips - even the cooler feel of the prosthetics agains his back, because they're part of Vash. That little bit extra spurs him on, gets him moving faster -

and then he notices what Vash is trying to do, and ducks his face to press a kiss against his ear. ]

I've got you.

[ Shifting his weight so he's got a hand free, he slips it between them, feels for that little bud (and, maybe cruelly, drags his thumb over it just once) before he slips two fingers either side of it and presses like he saw Vash do before.

It was amazing to see, the first time. There's a feral sort of joy that rises in him at doing it, the way it takes a second, a little more pressure than he thought, and then his fingers get forced wider apart as it slips out between them, hot and slick and hard. ]

[ fuck. ]

Nico --! A-Ah...

[ it makes no fucking sense that just hearing i've got you is nearly as good as wolfwood helping his dick slide free, but there it is. and it's not like vash doesn't know he's not (a little) messed up! no groundbreaking revelations are being had with someone's dick inside him, at least.

but the sound he makes as it finally slides free of the slick confines of his body is that of blissful relief. caught between a sigh and a moan, trending more towards the latter when wolfwood times it just right with another firm thrust. he arches up underneath him, thighs squeezing helplessly around him like every inch of him is desperate to keep wolfwood here. to keep him, period, even though vash is always the one running away.

that electric buzz along his skin only intensifies. he's too fucking out of it to process the warning signs, and with his face buried where it is, he can't exactly see. which is why he's just mumbling a feverish mantra of nico nico nico instead of any explanation for the glowing runes starting to etch themselves out on his skin, the way the edges of some of them are starting to curl up into downy little blue-white feathers. ]

[ It takes him a moment. His face is still pressed against the mess of Vash's hair, his eyes half-closed as he tries desperately not to lose it at the feeling of sinking himself deep, the new sensation of Vash's cock sliding hard and slick against his stomach with every thrust. But then there's the glow, filtering through his lashes, and he lifts his head.

It's not the first time he's seen it. It is the first time he's seen it when Vash wasn't doing plant stuff, which always comes threaded taut with anxiety about what it might be doing to him. The first time he's seen feathers, a fine dusting of them over the sliver of high cheekbone that peeks out from where Vash has his face tucked away.

It's vain, such a vain thought, but it doesn't feel like this is random timing. It feels like what they're doing has maybe forced Vash to let go of his mask long enough that the truth of him is shining through. And if it's that, if it's a release, Wolfwood wants it for him. Rolls his hips faster, presses deeper, heedless of how close that drags him to the edge when it makes the petals feel like they're pulsing around the base of his cock, the tight sweetness inside squeeze around him. He lifts that hand, brushes gentle fingers over the silky down. ]

Beautiful.

[ ah, man. it's a hell of a thing to live for a century plus and then get fucked to death by a guy you only met because one of the reporters that follows you around almost committed vehicular manslaughter. c'est la vie, or something.

not that vash is complaining! in fact, right now, he's doing the exact opposite of complaining -- making a useless mess of sounds into wolfwood's shoulder, getting his skin wet with an objectively gross combo of drool and tears. he thought it'd be better with his dick not caught inside him, but somehow? it's worse. because they're pressed so tightly together that it keeps sliding up against wolfwood's stomach on every thrust, and that extra layer of sensation is driving him fucking crazy. even the sound of wolfwood fucking him is making him burn, wet and filthy, audible even over their heavy breathing and the slap of skin against skin.

wolfwood calls him beautiful, and vash croons something stupid and senseless back to him. not understanding the praise, but blindly grateful for it --

and then wolfwood's fingers are on his face, brushing lightly over something that feels like it's wired directly to the feels good button in vash's brain. he jolts as the pleasure spears through him like an electric shock, crying out sharply and arching so hard it makes his muscles tremble with the strain. ] Nico!

Nico, I'm gonna come, you're gonna make me come, please -- [ it's a fevered jumble of words, shameless and needy. ] I wanna come, I wanna come for you, I wanna come with you inside me. Please, please, please --

[ Well, that did something. Just a touch, and Vash goes from sweetly crooning to frantic, and it lights Wolfwood up inside. He can feel Vash taut with need under him, the way he gets impossibly tighter, like his body's trying to beg for it, and Wolfwood knows he doesn't stand a fucking chance. It's coming fast, too fast, so he takes a gamble and grabs Vash by the head, turns it a little rougher than he'd like so his face is tipped up, and starts stroking his thumb over those feathers, each pass matching the determined way he thrusts deep into Vash. ]

Do it. Come for me. Be good for me, Vash, let me feel you come on my cock, so good for me -

[ he whines a confused little noise when wolfwood gets a grip on his head and turns his face up, blinking up at him with eyes gone glazed and hazy with pleasure. and then wolfwood is pressing his thumbs down against vash's cheekbones, rubbing --

and he's gone.

vash comes with a shout, way past the point of caring about thin motel walls or awkward road trips on the horizon. the glow of those runes tick up in intensity, more of them blooming into feathers, a few scattering on the sheets as vash writhes underneath him. and it's damn lucky that some part of his brain is engaged enough not to clutch at wolfwood with the prosthetic -- he claws at the mattress instead, and promptly rips a fist-sized chunk right out of it. ]

[ The prosthetic may not be clutching at Wolfwood, but Vash's cunt has no such concerns. The sight of him probably would have been enough to tip Wolfwood over as it is, but he doesn't get the chance to find out. Vash seizes around him, pulsing squeezes that would make it impossible to hold off even if he had the presence of mind to try, and the second that dam breaks and he growls out something that tries to be Vash's name those petals curls up tight around him, harder than their soft and delicate appearance would suggest was possible. There's a frantic and mindless part of him that wants to keep thrusting, to give in to complete animal impulse, but he can't. He's held firm, Vash squeezing around him like his body wants to wring him out completely, and nothing in heaven or the desert below could feel better than just letting it happen. ]

Good, so good, you're so good -

[ Mindless repetition as his orgasm rolls over him in waves, dragging out so long that he loses the ability to say it altogether. And when it's done - limbs tingling, eyes watering, breath coming so hard and heavy it sounds like he's forgotten how to do it the normal way - he collapses against Vash, still held tight, rubbing his lips against Vash's cheek because he doesn't have the control to kiss him yet. ]

[ wolfwood collapses on top of him, and vash makes a little hnngh noise that bears the responsibility of trying to convey his deep and eternal gratitude for the best sex he's ever had. words... are still a few minutes out, though.

and his breathing is still coming in hiccupping little sobs, mostly because he's fucking overwhelmed. every inch of him is buzzing with how good he feels, and maybe vash has built up a pretty decent tolerance for pain, but he's got absolutely no guard against this. having someone devoted to making you feel good, saying a bunch of tender shit to you for no other reason than that they like you enough to want you to hear it, and then getting to lay here in the aftermath and feel warm and cared about and absolutely safe. ]

[ The world outside of Vash comes back to him slow as sunrise, until he can finally shape his mouth enough to make that rubbing into an actual kiss. He'd thought the sounds Vash is making were just breathing, but a tear slips out to track over his cheek and run warm against Wolfwood's face, and his heart breaks just a little. It doesn't matter how much he knows Vash is more likely to cry about what's good than what's bad, or that Vash doesn't even seem to notice he's doing it. It still makes him ache. Not enough to undo the still-thrumming echoes of pleasure in him, not enough to dampen how pleased he is, but enough. ]

Shh, shh. I've got you. You were so good.

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