sticksandbones | I'm on the brink of disaster [OTA]

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I'm on the brink of disaster [OTA]

Who: Nicholas D. Wolfwood and YOU
What: Catchall log for the aftermath of Saint Nick
When: December 26th onward
Where: Various
Warnings: Reckless behavior/irresponsible drinking

A) Staring down the consequences | OTA

[It's been a couple days, and Wolfwood is still...well, he sure is. And now it seems that the Grove all gets to have a say in the life and times of No Man's Land, so that's pretty Cool. While he does make sure to keep up with Vash's post and all of the responses out of a sense of schadenfreude, it doesn't exactly make him feel any better. Eventually, he has to put it away and go back outside for a while. Not into the Forest thankfully, but out into the snow just outside the Inn, dressed up in his coat from Heimr with a cigarette clutched tight in his teeth.

He's out here because he kindof has to be. He has a puppy on a leash, who has been waddling around in the snow for the last fifteen minutes, biting at the snowflakes and rolling around on the ground.

He watches, deadeyed, as she stuffs her face into a pile of snow all the way up to her neck.]

...please. Please, god.

[He's begging you

He is begging you to do your business he's so fucking tired]

B) To break hard would be better | Locked to Mizuki

[At some point when the puppy has been taken care of and is curled up asleep on his pillow, Wolfwood leaves again. He heads for the therapy building with full intent of going to the rage room and breaking more shit in the hopes it will help him feel less listless and dumb in the head.

Except...he gets there, and he sort of lingers in the middle of the lobby. Like he's lost, or he's forgotten where the room even is. Perhaps that's what it is, or maybe it's that he knows that breaking things isn't really the solution this time.

Maybe he should just leave.]

C) Tonight I'll do what it takes to fail | OTA

[...so anyway when that didn't work, Wolfwood decided to just grab the last of that whiskey bottle from his room and head back out to go wandering again. There's actually a lot of this town he hasn't visited for one reason or another, and the rec center is a place he flat out didn't know existed. Blessedly empty as it is, it's a siren song calling for him. He drags himself through the snow and inside.

...he's not expecting to find a giant like. Waterpark, or something, in here. Who the fuck built this?

He wanders as he periodically drinks straight from the bottle, wondering if the water is cold. It probably is since it's like two degrees outside. His footsteps echo loudly in the empty space, with pools scattered throughout. His feet are cold. Maybe it'd feel nice if he took his shoes off and just sat at the edge, assuming the pools are heated or something. Would somebody build this whole thing and NOT go to the trouble of doing that?

Fuck, he doesn't know. Nobody has this kind of money back home, and certainly not the resources to be wasting this much water. He sits down on the tile like a toddler and awkwardly kicks off his sockless, very wet (very sad, they're in BAD shape yall) shoes before scooting towards the water's edge.

If you show up right around now you'll just see Wolfwood sitting at the edge with his feet in the water. If you show up like, ten minutes later, it will be to the tune of somebody falling in.]

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[The worst part is that Vash would have thought it was obvious. He wasn't exactly subtle, and every syrupy time he murmured Wolfwood's name felt like it was a confession in and of itself. He knows that with an upbringing like his, that it would be easy to misread, but Vash had all but pointed a neon sign at his affections.

And then, of course, there was his own self-doubt. Obvious as he'd been, it wasn't as if he'd felt that he deserved the opportunity. But they'd gone over that already, and now Wolfwood was pitching forward and...

The thunk against his forehead hurts, but Vash doesn't complain. It feels like a breath of fresh air, a first gasp after nearly drowning. That free hand moves of its own volition, burying itself within Wolfwood's hair. He keeps the man cradled close, clinging like a lifeline. In his despair, he never would have thought to be so lucky. It's a second chance that he doesn't -

No. He won't do that. He won't think it, not when he's trying to be better.]

Oh, Nick. [He angles his own head so that he can trace his lips over Wolfwood's forehead. It's a gentle kiss, and one that continues as he pecks his way up to the top of his head.] I know. I'm a dumbass. Don't have to tell me twice.

[Vash had been obvious in everything but words. The signs were all there, from his actions to his mannerisms to the way he carried himself around Wolfwood like a lovesick puppy. Thing is, though...Wolfwood has never dealt with true affection to this degree from someone else, and to not have it spelled out for him in writing is leaving him to read between the lines, something he absolutely does not trust himself to be able to do. That's half of why this fight between them had gotten so ugly. Wolfwood couldn't figure out how to interpret the way Vash was treating him after they'd kissed, like he'd wanted this, but didn't?

It's why he needed to ask. He needed to know. Assuming things was starting to get the better of him, clearly, if the way he looks like he's ready to burst into flames on the spot is any indication.

And then...and then Vash is kissing him, pressing his lips to his forehead and honest to god he feels like he's dying. Something hot bubbles up in his chest and settles there firmly behind his heart, festering and burning until it feels like it might just climb its way right out of him. His breath shudders its way out of him, until it all becomes too much. He has to do something more than just sit there, which is why he reaches with his free hand for Vash again, this time coming up to grip the back of his head, his fingers tangling with blonde locks.]

You are! [His breath hitches, his voice rising.] You are a dumbass! You are...

[Then, he tries to pull Vash closer to him, not really sure anymore if he wants to hug him, or if he just wants to close, or if he should try kissing him, or...

God. God, he doesn't know. He just knows he wants to stay here, and he doesn't want Vash to leave.]

I...I like you too. [He finally manages, his voice a breathy whisper because he's worked himself up that much over how filled to the brim with indignation he seems to be over this.] I want...to be with you too. That's why I...it hurt, when you told me I didn't know what I was thinking, I knew I liked you- and- you- you better fucking not make me regret it, Vash the Stampede. You hear me?!

[He's gripping him even harder, now, the next in hale he takes so sharp and loud that it's definitely hinging on the edge of actual crying.]

Don't play with me, I'll fucking kill you.

[At this point, Wolfwood could take Vash by the neck, wring it out and throw him in the snow and he'd simply say thank you. He's doing his best to feel without hesitation. It won't be a perfect process, he knows he'll slip up and they'll both wind up bruised, but he won't break things like he had before.

He owes Wolfwood that much.]

I know, I know. [And there he is with that lovesick smile. His eyes are hooded, staring up at Nick's fury like it's somehow managed to put the very stars into the sky. That expression does diminish, just slightly, when their conversation drifts to the more serious -- namely Vash's own mistakes. Still, the longing in his voice is still obvious.]

I shouldn't have phrased it like that. Or done it at all, really. [He looks up at Wolfwood through his lashes.] It's one thing to - be afraid. Shouldn't have made you doubt your own feelings.

[With both hands now free, though, Vash can lift his own to cradle Wolfwood's face. Each caress is tender, like handling a fragile piece of glass. It's what he deserves, after a life of being treated with such brutality.]

I can't promise I'll be perfect. That I'm not gonna hurt you. But I won't make you doubt yourself. Not like that. Not again.

'n' I'll keep doin' my best to be better and better.

[He doesn't know if it's too soon. If he's misreading the signs. But maybe he doesn't care. It's only been days, and the indulgence brief, but he's missed kissing Wolfwood. So he does. He leans forward, brushing their lips together tentatively, gauging if his partner will rise up to the offer in kind.]

[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.]

[Vash decides, then and there, that he wants to kiss Wolfwood for the rest of forever. He wants to savor every tomorrow he has with the man, starting with this one right here. He almost complains when Wolfwood pulls away, only to be silenced by his lips once more. This kiss is returned in earnest, lips moving against the other man's, trying to convey wordlessly that the mistake won't be made again. That they'll stay like this and -

Suddenly, they're not kissing anymore. He hears that sound that Wolfwood makes, agonized and mourning, and moves forward. This time, it isn't a kiss, but an embrace. He keeps the Punisher tucked beneath his chin, nosing into hair that still smells of chlorine and massaging down the slightly wrinkled, flame dried blazer.

A kiss is pressed to the top of his head, then down at his temple, before Vash finally settles behind his ear. He keeps Wolfwood close the entire time. Unless he actively tries to pull away, Vash won't be letting go. And once he's properly settled, he murmurs to the man once more:]

'm here. I'm sorry I let you down, but I promise I won't again.

[Vash has made about as many promises as he's broken in his life. Maybe his word doesn't mean much at all at this point. But one thing both of them know is that every promise made is one dear to him. He doesn't make them arbitrarily, just... foolishly.

Maybe just this once, though, the promise will go unbroken.]

[It's a somber decision to make, knowing good and well that Vash will someday lose Wolfwood, no matter what. For a species as long lived as a Plant, Wolfwood's life in comparison will feel like a blip on the radar. He will someday lose that youthful luster, and like Brad and Luida, his hair will silver with age and he won't be as spry as he once was, able to race across the sands alongside Vash as easily as if it were solid ground. Of course, Wolfwood genuinely doesn't know how the drugs he takes may affect his longevity, given how he rapidly aged to begin with. It could very well mean his life expectancy has been halved, but...he never expected to live a long life anyway. Dying of old age is not in the cards for Nicholas D. Wolfwood, not that he intends to die here.

Certainly not when he has...this. It's a mirror to the first time they'd kissed in the Inn, except now, not only is Wolfwood completely sober for it, it's happening under the pretense that Vash is...his, now. They are, in a more official capacity, together. Partners. The thought of that being even real still boggles Wolfwood's mind as he struggles to catch his breath, tears coursing down his face uninhibited in a way they typically never do. For the moment, he simply allows himself this time to process what he's feeling, because it's not sadness so much as it is overwhelmed emotion, happiness, and disbelief. Vash presses kisses all along his head until they both settle into a heap together near the wall, with Wolfwood's face hidden somewhere against Vash's neck.

He doesn't say anything for what feels like a very long time. He just holds him, sniffling and breathing heavily, until eventually he growls so deeply that Vash will feel it vibrate against his chest.]

You've...made me cry twice. [Said in the tone of "I don't cry, ever, I'm too hardcore for tears"] You'd better make up for it.

[Said as his head shifts to one side, resting against Vash's gently.]

[The thought had occurred to Vash, in the same way the thought of Wolfwood's blood running through his fingers had. Inevitably, Wolfwood will die. Knowing them, it would be bloody and violent, but the alternative was... still a remote possibility. Yet even if the Punisher's life was little more than a blink in comparison to Wolfwood, there would never be anyone like him.

Vash had lived for 150 years and never fell so hard, so fast for someone. He doubted he ever could again. He'd have to spend their entire shared lives together, however long that may be, committing every second to his memory. It was the only way to survive the centuries that would follow.

Thankfully, Wolfwood doesn't let him dwell on these bittersweet possibilities. Between wiping those tears away, and the words that follow, Vash finds himself thoroughly distracted. Laughter, boyish and soft, bubbles out of him. He shakes his head, amusement clear on his features.]

I could think of a few ways to do that. [And maybe, if his face didn't immediately crumple into a yawn, it might have sounded suggestive. But the fact is,Vash hasn't slept well the past few days.

Or. You know. At all.

Which means Wolfwood an eyewitness to loudest, most exaggerated dad yawn on the planet. Because since when has Vash the Stampede ever done anything normal or in a contained capacity.]

[Yeah, Vash might be a Plant, but he is also the more human of the twins...meaning that going an entire night without sleeping at all is more than likely catching up with him, and it shows. There's a moment where Wolfwood sits back just enough so that he can look at Vash, his face wet with tears and his nose wrinkled like he's going to say something sarcastic (which is always, generally). He was going to ask Vash to elaborate, but...

Instead, Wolfwood readjusts his grip on Vash, then practically falls over onto his side on the mattress, taking Vash down with him. The bed, undoubtedly, is far too small for the two of them to comfortably sleep side by side, but...like.

That's not a problem anymore.

(They should get a second bed though. Maybe like, push two together, or something, anyway-)

Now with his shoulders up against the wall on his side, Wolfwood drags Vash close. They're facing each other, and since Wolfwood isn't sprawled on top of Vash like he was the last time they shared a bed, they can actually look at each other in the morning light, like this.

...it's almost too much, actually. The moment Wolfwood feels his heart start to beat a little too fast, he has to avert his gaze, dropping his head against Vash's shoulder again.]

...go to sleep, dumbass. I'll make you elaborate later.

[Vash has just one protest to their current position. He sits up long enough to shake his jacket — the one from his home, made just for him — off. He drapes it over the two of them. It's not a perfect fit, but between it and their shared body heat, they're bound to remain comfortable enough.

He won't be content until he can see Wolfwood's face, however. He rolls his shoulder, gentle enough to not hurt, but firm enough to disrupt. Once Wolfwood's head rises, he he allows his forehead to press against the other man's gingerly. It's a far cry from their foreheads bashing together earlier, which Vash thinks he's earned, thank you!]

C'n elaborate now if you want. [His smile is lopsided and gentle.] It involves a whole lot of mwah mwah mwah.

[It is the most exaggerated and ridiculous kissing noises ever. His face contorts with the act, before devolving into near delirious giggles. He never goes far, for better or for worse. Vash remains crowded into Wolfwood's space, but he's being loud as hell about it.]

[...this is acceptable. Honestly, it's probably pretty silly of him to be trying to settle for sleep 1) when he's slept all night and 2) is fully clothed, but the fact of the matter is that Wolfwood doesn't want to get up either, not when he and Vash just reached a threshold of being able to do this...period. It's not something he's going to be willing to just let go of that easily. It doesn't help that Vash is smiling at him all goofy, making it difficult for him to stay grumpy, even for just a moment.

He smirks, giving an equally exaggerated roll of his eyes as Vash presses their foreheads together.]

Do you have an off switch?

[Wolfwood mutters, eyes falling half closed as he brings his hand up and around to once more tangle loosely with the back of his hair, this time his fingertips dragging through where the hair grows the shortest.]

...if you wanted to kiss more, I ain't goin anywhere.

[Not now, not ever.]

[A shiver runs down his spine as those fingers thread into his hair. Anything he might have been on the verge of saying is interrupted with a low, breathy sigh. He nestles further into the touch, even as his eyes start to droop sleepily. He tries his best to keep them open, like a child trying to stay awake on Christmas.

He doesn't want to miss a second of staring at Wolfwood.]

Feel a lil bad, if I fell asleep mid-kiss. That's all.

[That doesn't stop him from leaning in and grabbing a quick peck. And then a second and third for good measure. Despite his insistence on being tired, he still seems perfectly capable of giggling to him damn self somehow.

Even if he does tilt his head more heavily onto the pillow after.]

Know I'm probably a hypocrite for asking, but... [He does crack one eye open, just to meet Wolfwood's gaze.] You'll still be here when I wake up, yeah?

[Yeah, no, this guy isn't long for this world. That's why he figures that any further exploring of this will happen later, but...it's not as if they don't have all of the time in the world, at this point. He's just relieved that, for once, for just a little while (because we know what SCP is looming in the distance even as we speak), all of that pent up anger, hurt, and frustration can be thrust to the wayside in exchange for a feeling that Wolfwood genuinely doesn't often get to have.

Relaxation. Happiness. Maybe even a little bit of optimism. But, more than anything...

Affection. Stupid, stupid, dumb affection for this idiot struggling to stay awake across from him, trying desperately to steal just one more kiss before he falls asleep. And when Vash finally starts to succumb and has to lay down, it's Wolfwood's turn to lean forward to kiss Vash, kissing his cheekbone right where his beauty mark sits.]

I will be. I mean...s'your house. You're kinda the arbiter of whether I leave or stay.

[Half-asleep as he is, he can't manage to hide the way his cheeks flush. The feeling of his lips against any part of him is almost overwhelming right now, after everything that's happened.

As it is, Vash's arms swivel their way around Wolfwood as best as he can manage. He squeezes the other man close at the mere idea of it being his idea. He thinks he makes his thoughts on the matter pretty damn clear, if he says so himself. It's not unlike holding a teddy bear, a comfort object, any sort of childish thing to bring him joy.]

Y'r allowed to stay here whenever you want. [He huffs once.] Don't even have to leave.

[Wolfwood knows without asking directly that's what the answer was going to be. Of course Vash would want him to stay, even though Vash deliberately had this house built out here because he was having a meltdown at the time. Now it seems all rather silly, the fact that they're all the way out here about as far from the main town as they possibly can be...he guesses that isn't something that can be changed, not now. But perhaps, ultimately, it's for the best.]

Yeah, well. ...maybe I won't.

[He, of course, can't just say "yeah I'll stay". That's too direct, and he's showed more emotion today than he'll be capable of in another couple months, he's pretty sure. The quota has been surpassed and he would like to go back to your regularly scheduled Wolfwooding, thank you.

It does help that Vash is fading, making it easier for him to say and do shit he might not have. Like nudging their noses together.]

Somebody's gotta keep an eye on your dumbass.

[Even though his eyes are barely open, Vash's nose still scrunches up, just a little. His laugh is breathless, and it bubbles out unbidden.]

'm glad it's you. [Vash will have regrets in the morning, but only over how ridiculous he sounds. That's if he even remembers this half-asleep state. At least he can rest assured that Wolfwood probably won't bring it up, if only to spare himself the additional embarrassment.]

G'night, Nick. [Another laugh.] G'mornin' even.

[His head finally comes to a rest on the pillow, body steadily going limp. It might take a bit longer to fully drift off but... who can blame him for anything to savor the warmth and comfort of Wolfwood's presence after everything?

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I'm on the brink of disaster [OTA]

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