Entry tags:
.OPEN POST.

.meme continuations.
.gen & nsfw-friendly.
.nsfw very appreciated, tbh.
.feel free to plot something with me if you want @ creatura.
.meme continuations.
.gen & nsfw-friendly.
.nsfw very appreciated, tbh.
.feel free to plot something with me if you want @ creatura.
no subject
( Sometimes, just having him close like this is enough, and he can pretend he doesn't want more nearly all the time. Vash's presence alone is an intoxicating sort of thing, an addiction in its own right, and at least that isn't something that might end up killing him.
Ah … but are you sure about that? )
He looks at him like he doesn't because he really, really doesn't think he's ever seen something, someone so fucking beautiful in the whole off his life, the sort of thing he shouldn't be able to touch in the first place because he breaks everything he touches, but Vash has always accepted him just as he, in turn, has accepted Vash for everything he is, and if that means he has to drill into that spiky head of his that he is worthwhile, well. He doesn't have a problem with that in the slightest.
He noses at the edge of his jaw as those fingers toy with his jacket, and he shifts just as much as he needs to shrug it off of his shoulders and let the fabric pool about his hips, chuckling into the kiss and letting his teeth catch on the tip of the other's tongue once it slides into his mouth, sharp but playful, everything he's never been with much of anyone else.
( Hell, who is he kidding? He's never been exactly like this with anyone. )
Both of his own hands slip beneath the hem of Vash's top layer to smooth over his sides, fingers digging into the dip of his slender ( fucking tiny ) waist. "What? M'allowed to have an opinion, aren't I?"