[Poor choice of words aside, it’s nice to have that being acknowledged. It’s not like Wolfwood is over here desperate to beat a dead horse, but it’s starting to make a lot of sense to him now why they both struggled to understand each other so badly. For Vash, his love was obvious and abundant. For Wolfwood, his was tentative and afraid, only spurred on by the alcohol lowering his inhibitions enough to allow for it. He’s not sure if he could have managed it as easily sober, if at all…but now? Now that they’ve talked like this, Wolfwood feels like he could do almost anything and Vash would be understanding and accommodating, just like he always is.
Just like now, as he feels Vash’s lips brush against his own, and he finally shatters.
He releases his hold on Vash’s jacket, the hand in his hair fisting the back of it while his other comes around to actually embrace Vash fully, gripping him with a kind of desperate energy that suggests he’s still afraid that Vash might vanish without a word again. He thinks, if that happened, Wolfwood would simply hunt Vash down and kill him. If that upset Knives, well, tough luck he got to him first.
Instead of fantasizing about Vash’s untimely demise, Wolfwood instead focuses on the way Vash’s lips feel against his own. They’re soft and warm, maybe a little chapped by the cold weather, but it’s all very real and human in a way he’s sure Vash wishes was 100%. He kisses him back not tentatively, but firmly with a hard, decisive seal of their lips together for a few moments before he draws back for a pause, just the briefest instance of breath mingling before he sinks back into Vash’s arms for another kiss. He closes his eyes even though he wants to keep looking at him, desperate to savor this feeling as much as it feels like it’s going to rip him apart from the inside. When they part a second time, Wolfwood chokes back a sob.
Is it supposed to feel like this? To feel so right that it scares you? That something so precious could be so tenuous. It really isn’t just Vash who feels undeserving, but Wolfwood too as his hand moving against Vash’s back trembles slightly, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over, soaking into the collar of his blazer.]
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Just like now, as he feels Vash’s lips brush against his own, and he finally shatters.
He releases his hold on Vash’s jacket, the hand in his hair fisting the back of it while his other comes around to actually embrace Vash fully, gripping him with a kind of desperate energy that suggests he’s still afraid that Vash might vanish without a word again. He thinks, if that happened, Wolfwood would simply hunt Vash down and kill him. If that upset Knives, well, tough luck he got to him first.
Instead of fantasizing about Vash’s untimely demise, Wolfwood instead focuses on the way Vash’s lips feel against his own. They’re soft and warm, maybe a little chapped by the cold weather, but it’s all very real and human in a way he’s sure Vash wishes was 100%. He kisses him back not tentatively, but firmly with a hard, decisive seal of their lips together for a few moments before he draws back for a pause, just the briefest instance of breath mingling before he sinks back into Vash’s arms for another kiss. He closes his eyes even though he wants to keep looking at him, desperate to savor this feeling as much as it feels like it’s going to rip him apart from the inside. When they part a second time, Wolfwood chokes back a sob.
Is it supposed to feel like this? To feel so right that it scares you? That something so precious could be so tenuous. It really isn’t just Vash who feels undeserving, but Wolfwood too as his hand moving against Vash’s back trembles slightly, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over, soaking into the collar of his blazer.]