Home is where you are

Wolfwood wakes up and sees white.

He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven but his vision clears, looking up at a white ceiling. The sun coming from the window to his right glares at him.

Wolfwood recalls what happened before he got here: the taste of blood, vials, and Bride in his mouth, Hopeland Orphanage, Melanie and the children—safe—Livio—also safe. He also remembers dying. There’s no escaping death with the vials poisoning his body, organs no longer repairing themselves. How is he still alive?

All answers point to Vash.

Wolfwood struggles to sit up, failing with a grunt. His entire body aches, leaving him huffing as he gingerly settles back against the bed. He doesn't know how long he's been out.

Gazing around the room, his eyes widen when he realizes he’s inside the orphanage, the room familiar but the walls and floor look spotless as if they were recently refurbished. The Punisher rests in the corner of the room, also pristine. Glancing to the side, he sees various small flowers he’s never seen before on the nightstand and a handwritten note sits beside them. Wolfwood reaches for the note—the IV attached to him tugs at his arm—and reads it.

Hey Nico!

You've been unconscious for twenty days.

The number looks like it has been erased multiple times, likely revised each day.

I hope you are feeling better when you wake up! The doctors who’re friends with Vash said you’ll be okay after getting through the worst of your injuries and some rest.

Call for me or Miss Melanie as soon as you read this!

Your brother, Livio.

Wolfwood lets out an exasperated but fond sigh. It’s good to have Livio back. Also, good to be back home.

Tugging out the IV, Wolfwood slides his legs to the edge of the bed and stands on wobbly feet, unsteady from days of disuse. He takes his time shuffling out the room into a familiar hallway. Multiple voices are heard in the distance so Wolfwood heads in that direction. Getting closer to what seems to be the kitchen, Wolfwood is surprised to hear Meryl and Milly, along with Miss Melanie and Livio. Rounding the corner, Wolfwood awkwardly stands at the doorway, staring at the scene before him: Merly and Milly are helping Miss Melanie prepare food for lunch while Livio sets up the long wooden table with plates and cutlery.

Milly spots him first, yelling out a cheerful, “Mr. Wolfwood!”

Wolfwood holds his breath as the room becomes silent, heads turning towards him. The silence is broken by Livio, who dashes towards him with tears in his eyes, crushing him into a hug.

“Nico!” Livio cries into Wolfwood's shoulder. “You’re awake!”

Wheezing, Wolfwood struggles to wrap an arm around Livio, patting him on the back. “You’re gonna put me back in my death bed.”

The jest makes Livio pull back and glower wetly at him. “Death jokes, seriously?”

Wolfwood grins. “Couldn't pass up the opportunity.”

Livio huffs, jabbing him softly in retaliation. He steps away and is replaced with an equally crushing hug from Milly.

“Oh, I’m so happy you’re awake! You had us worried,” Milly cries.

“Good to see you too, Big Girl,” Wolfwood croaks.

Meryl joins in with a less bone-crushing hug. “Don’t do anything crazy again.”

Wolfwood didn’t expect them to be visibly affected by what could’ve happened to him, going out with a bang without saying anything. And he was okay with that. At the back of his mind, he thought he wouldn’t be missed but with both of them having red-rimmed eyes, happy to see him, tell him otherwise. Wolfwood pats them both. “I’ll try not to.”

A voice shouts across the room. “Guys, Nico is awake!”

Pairs of feet race across the floor towards the kitchen. Wolfwood is greeted by a flock of kids around him as Meryl and Milly step away, staring at him in awe.

One kid tugs the hem of his shirt. “Come play with us!”

Another one—a teen girl holding a baby—walks into the kitchen. “Luke! He just woke up!” She scolds him.

Luke pouts, eyes turning downcast. “But I’ve been waiting for so long.”

Another boy around Luke’s age chimes in. “Can I get a piggyback ride?”

Wolfwood ruffles both boys’ hair. “I’ll play with you squirts later.” He looks up to see the rest of the children looking at him, vaguely recognizing a few who were babies when he left. He remembers Marie holding the baby and John, who walks in and smiles at him, no longer toddlers.

There’s no fear in anyone's eyes like he’d imagined, like he’d dreamed and vehemently believed. It’s what kept him away. Wolfwood couldn’t fantasize about coming back without being greeted with anything less than fear, much less greeted with smiles after the monster he turned out to be.

Melanie chooses that moment to approach the crowd around Wolfwood. “Why don’t you all play outside while I get Nicholas settled? Then he can play with you.”

The youngsters let out awws and okays, dispersing as they head outside. With the room quiet, Melanie stands in front of Wolfwood with a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Melanie whispers.

Wolfwood clenches his jaw, pushing back the emotions swelling and making his eyes water. “I’m back.”

Melanie lets out a teary laugh, raising a hand to cup Wolfwood’s cheek. “You made yourself a real friend with that one,” she murmurs, referring to Vash. “Both of you are wonderful boys with big hearts.”

Wolfwood manages a wobbly smile, no longer able to hide the tears in his eyes. After everything that’s been said and done, Wolfwood berates his past self for thinking he was okay with dying with the way things were.

He’s not wasting this second chance at living.

Melanie wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. Wolfwood bends down for her to reach and envelops his own arms around her back. It’s been too long since he had something like this.

Melanie pulls away. “Come.” She rests a hand on his back. “There are things you should know about.”

Wolfwood is guided to sit at the head of the table, Meryl, Milly, and Livio joining them. As everyone is seated, the room turns sombre, only the sound of distant laughter from the children fills the silence. There’s a noticeable presence that’s missing in the room, at least to Wolfwood it is. Vash isn’t here.

“So, what happened?” Wolfwood questions.

Melanie speaks first. “Vash brought you back.” She starts, looking down. “It wasn’t looking too good.” She recalls the way Wolfwood was lifeless in Vash’s arms. “He was hysterical. Asking Luida and Brad to save you while he was away.”

“Away?”

“To stop Knives.” Livio cuts in.

Right, to stop him.

“Knives is gone,” Livio adds.

Wolfwood is shocked to hear that. Well, shit. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. Good riddance, the threat of humanity is gone. But also, that’s Vash’s brother.

Melanie continues. “Luida and the doctors were able to stabilize you. Nothing short of a miracle saved you they said.”

It was a miracle. His death was certain.

“Did Vash do something?” Wolfwood asks out loud.

“It’s better if you ask Vash himself,” Meryl suggests. “He implied something the last time he visited.”

Wolfwood raises a brow. “Oh?”

“We ran into him when we came here two days ago to visit you,” Meryl explains. “He made a face when I asked how you survived.”

Wolfwood hums. “I assume Vash didn’t say anything.”

Meryl sighs. “Nope. He left right after.”

Melanie smiles. “The poor dear looked tired. I’m sure he will visit soon, Luida told me he visited you almost every day on the ship and here as well.”

Wolfwood huffs. “Maybe I won’t have to wait that long to see him then.” He’ll get his answers soon enough.

The conversation shifts away from Vash to the latest happenings in No Man’s Land. Wolfwood learns about Earth’s fleet, having travelled the galaxy to come to this desolate planet. He also learns that the fleet brought gifts in the form of greenery, vastly expanding agriculture in the short time they’ve been here.

The Hopeland Orphanage has a garden now with the help of Vash sweet-talking the Earth feds, who Wolfwood learns are also keeping an eye on the guy for being a walking nuclear bomb.

“I don’t think he’s going to be a nuclear bomb anytime soon,” Milly comments ominously.

After the revelation, Melanie calls the children back into the kitchen to eat lunch. The kids talk over each other as they tell Wolfwood all the trouble they’ve been up to, including bullying Vash into playing with them. It’s clear that they adored Vash from the times he visited and want to see him again. Vash always had a soft spot for kids.

It's an odd feeling being back. A good feeling. The mission of keeping the orphanage safe has been fulfilled with the end of the Eye of Michael. It will take some time getting used to but moments like this tell him everything was worth it, having a home like this.

After lunch, Livio teaches him the mundane tasks of gardening and the supplies they have got from the Earth’s feds. Wolfwood learns how to grow flowers and all sorts of vegetables like carrots, potatoes, and beans. There are also saplings planted around the perimeter of the orphanage—apple trees—but it’ll be a while before they bear fruit.

Brain filled with new knowledge, he and Livio join the kids in the courtyard, accepting requested piggyback rides for the younglings. Wolfwood chats with the oldest ones. He learns Luke and Jonathan are the troublemakers of the posse with Cactus following in their footsteps. Younger than them are Gary and Linda, both quiet but one is curious and the other shy respectively. And he finds out the baby’s name is Monique, a cute little thing clutching his finger when he pokes her cheek.

Drained by the time dinner is over, Wolfwood decides it’s time for bed. Today was a lot, he’s exhausted even though he rested for almost three weeks.

Lying in bed, he thinks about how he needs to exercise and get back into shape after being out of commission. He also thinks about having a smoke, hasn’t had one for the twenty days since he’s been dead to the world, but then realizes they’re kids around him now.

This is a good time to quit than ever.

Morning rolls around and there’s no sign of Vash. Wolfwood waits until dusk. Nothing. The next day, there’s still no Vash. Or the next.

When Meryl and Milly leave the orphanage, something about working on their new jobs, they give him sympathetic looks.

Milly pats him on the shoulder. “I’m sure he will come back soon.”

“I hope so,” Meryl sighs. “We’ll let you know if we see him.”

Wolfwood tsks, sending them off. He waits. And waits.

Vash doesn't visit. He hasn’t visited for two weeks. Wolfwood curses at jinxing himself.

If there’s one thing Vash is good at it’s sidestepping sensitive topics, ones that involve himself. Vash is definitely avoiding confrontation.

Melanie hides a smile when she notices him being grumpy. Livio catches him being pissy and tells him to give it some time.

It has been some time for Vash to show his ass, to tell him what happened. Wolfwood is going to pummel Vash when he sees him, that is, if Wolfwood doesn’t go out into the desert to find him first. Wolfwood gives Vash a month before he goes searching like a man possessed.

That very night has Wolfwood waking up hours before dawn, unable to sleep by short nightmares that he forgets as soon as he wakes up. Peace after years with the Eye of Michael, after staying by Vash’s side with the whole planet wanting his bounty has made Wolfwood restless, both mind and body. He’s trying to shake off his old way of life, sometimes cleaning the Punisher at night even when it hasn’t been used, trying to keep his mind busy.

He lounges by the kitchen counter, drinking a cup of water to settle his nerves, the silence in the air is doing its best to make him sleepy. Leaving the cup in the sink, he heads back to his room.

With the room dark, he turns on the nightlight. Some light reading might help him fall asleep. Livio gave him a book about gardening tips, it might put him to sleep.

A creak in the room startles him before he can reach for the book. Whipping his head in the direction of the sound, Wolfwood finds Vash the Stampede in his room, trying to sneak off into the night without being seen.

“What the hell,” Wolfwood breathes.

Vash looks just as startled at being caught. He steels his face to plaster a smile. The smile looks fucking awful.

Wolfwood takes a good look at him. The eyebags on Vash’s tell him he hasn’t slept properly for days. His clothes are dusty and his hair—completely black.

Huh. Someone forgot to tell him Vash got a new look.

“Hey, blondie. Or maybe I shouldn’t call you that anymore?”

Vash’s facade withers slightly, but the smile hangs on. “Hi Wolfwood.” His feet shift, leaning his weight on one leg and the other, skittish. He’s one step away from running.

Wolfwood bites his cheek. “Have you been visiting during the night?”

Vash lets out a small laugh. “No, this is the first time.”

“What have you been up to?” Wolfwood doesn’t mean to interrogate, especially when Vash looks exhausted. After hearing what happened from everyone else, he just wants to hear what Vash has to say.

“I’ve been in town and back at the ship.” Not a complete lie.

“But, you haven’t dropped by since I woke up,” Wolfwood remarks, hands on his hips.

Vash easily bristles at being called out. “I’ve been busy! You heard about Earth right?” An excuse.

Wolfwood raises a brow. “Busy enough not to say ‘hi’?”

Vash’s face drops. The mask is falling.

Wolfwood glances at his Vash’s lack of blond hair. “What happened to your hair?”

“A new look?” Vash barely hides the blatant lie.

Wolfwood sighs. “C’mon Vash, what happened?”

Vash doesn’t respond, glancing to the side, clouded eyes landing on the Punisher propped on the wall, its cross shape looming over the silence. Wolfwood doesn’t know where else to put the thing.

“I think I should go,” Vash mutters.

Wolfwood acts fast, by Vash’s side in a second before he can take two steps towards the window, grabbing his wrist. Vash gasps at the contact, flinching away but Wolfwood has a firm grip on him.

Vash’s breath quickens. He swallows, trying to collect himself but his pants turn ragged. Then dry sobs. “Don’t—” Vash weakly tugs his arm back. His face contorts when Wolfwood still doesn’t let go and that’s when the tears appear.

“You—” Vash wipes his face with his other hand but the tears keep flowing. “You almost died,” he spits.

Wolfwood figured as much.

Vash continues, “And I couldn’t let that happen.”

Wolfwood gapes. “What?”

Vash winces, not liking his reaction, hiding his face behind his prosthetic. “I’m sorry!” he wails. “I shouldn’t be here.” He resumes jerking his arm back.

Wolfwood’s own eyes water at the sight. Vash is exhausted, where the hell is he going to sleep? Outside? “Vash, it’s okay. You can stay here.”

Vash shakes his head, hunching over. “No,” he whispers. “I don’t belong here.”

Spikey-haired idiot. Wolfwood is not going to take this self-deprecating crap. He yanks Vash closer, wrapping his arms around his trembling frame. Vash wheezes, squirming to get away. This close, Wolfwood can smell the air and sand on him, in need of a good shower.

“Let me go.” Vash pushes against his chest with his fists.

Wolfwood refuses. “No.”

“Wolfwood, please!” Vash sobs.

Wolfwood tightens his hold. “Not until you realize you have people who care about you here.”

Vash whines in protest, struggling to get out of his hold but Wolfwood's determination keeps him from running away. He ends up crying harder out of frustration, his energy evaporating.

"Please…" Vash whimpers.

Wolfwood doesn't answer his plea.

Vash shakes under him, shoving his face into his shoulder—finally relenting to a losing battle—and grips his front instead of clawing at it. The crying doesn't let up though, with Vash whispering I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry. Wolfwood cards his fingers through his hair soothing him, hushing him.

Vash’s legs give out, exhaustion overcoming him. Wolfwood guides them to the floor, bracketing Vash with his legs. Like this, Vash is fully pressed against him, burying himself in Wolfwood’s arms—the only thing holding him together.

Wolfwood trails a warm hand up and down his back, humming a tune close to Vash’s ear. The crying settles down to sniffles and choked breaths. Wolfwood gently holds Vash's head, drawing him back to face him. His puffy red eyes and blotchy face come into view, gaze directed downwards, avoiding his gaze. Wolfwood dabs his wet face with a sleeve to wipe away the snot and tears, causing Vash’s lips to tremble again. He brushes the black fringe away from Vash’s face.

"Let’s get you to bed," Wolfwood murmurs.

Vash manages a whine from the back of his throat, but doesn’t protest further. Wolfwood helps him stand with a hand on his waist, guiding him to sit on the bed. He unfastens Vash’s coat, along with his attire underneath, twisting his prosthetic off and leaving it on the nightstand. Vash wordlessly lets Wolfwood undress him, only letting out laboured breaths from his crying, eyes staring off into space. Wolfwood drops the garments off to the side to be dealt with tomorrow. Grabbing spare clothes from his dresser—fitted ones that will fit Vash's smaller frame—Wolfwood dresses Vash with them. With new clothes on, Vash fidgets with the hem of the shirt, baggy on him. Wolfwood thinks he looks much softer now with the black hair.

Wolfwood pats Vash’s head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He quickly grabs water from the kitchen, Vash needs water after a cry like that. Back in the room, Vash is staring into space again—he didn’t run away—when Wolfwood presents a glass of water. Vash glances at it.

Wolfwood tips the glass forward, encouraging him. “Drink.”

Vash tentatively takes the glass of water without a word, taking small sips as Wolfwood watches him. Wolfwood takes the glass when he finishes, placing it on the nightstand.

Ready for bed, Wolfwood lifts the sheets, climbing onto the mattress. He pats the space beside him. "Come here," he beckons Vash.

Vash turns, blinking. Wolfwood thinks he has to encourage him again until Vash crawls over. He settles back against the pillows beside Wolfwood, pulling the sheet up to his chin. Wolfwood does the same and turns off the light. Darkness washes over them.

Wolfwood closes his eyes. He can feel the heat radiating off of Vash on his side, conscious of his presence. The sound of Vash shuffling under the sheet has Wolfwood perking his ears. Vash turns on his side to face him, making a poorly concealed sniffle, a remnant of his crying.

Turning to face him, Wolfwood reaches for Vash in the dark. He scoops up Vash in his arms, one under his head and the other around his waist. Vash stutters out a sigh, looping his own arm around Wolfwood and burying his face into his neck. Vash’s wet lashes brush his skin.

“My hair…used too much energy,” Vash whispers in the darkness. “Somehow I kept you alive.”

Wolfwood hums softly, carding his fingers in Vash’s hair.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. If I lost you along with Nai, I—” Vash exhales harshly into his neck, squirming to let out the words while choking on a lump in his throat. His back tenses under Wolfwood’s hand, distress coming back.

Wolfwood presses his face into Vash’s hair, tightening his hold. “I’m okay, go to sleep,” he murmurs.

Vash’s pants wind down to small wheezes. His back slackens and he slumps. Wolfwood pets Vash’s back, waiting for sleep to take him. When Vash’s breathing evens out in his slumber, Wolfwood joins him moments later.

Wolfwood awakens the next morning with the sunlight blinding him and a weight on his arm.

He curses at the twin suns and himself for forgetting to close the blinds last night. Then he remembers why he forgot.

Squinting under the sunlight, Wolfwood looks to the side. There lies Vash under the morning glow. His black hair shines differently than it did when it was blond, a good kind of different. Vash’s face is shoved into Wolfwood’s shoulder, mouth skewed enough that Wolfwood can see drool, finally getting a good night’s rest. His arm is wrapped around Wolfwood’s bicep, body plastered to his side, clingy in his sleep.

Wolfwood huffs through his nose, holding back a smile that threatens to spread across his face even though nobody is here to witness it. He chooses to ignore the aching fondness he feels seeing the man beside him. Vash hasn’t looked this peaceful before and Wolfwood wants to keep him like this, savour it as long as he can.

Forever, maybe. If Vash will have him.

Wolfwood carefully unwraps Vash’s arm around him. He shimmies his way out of bed as Vash whines lowly at being disturbed but doesn’t wake, face pressing into the pillow instead of his shoulder. Standing with hands on his hips, Wolfwood looks down at him, then at the sandy red coat and gear on the floor. It’s laundry time.

Picking up Vash’s clothes, Wolfwood tiptoes out of the room and shuts the door. He makes his way to the kitchen, where Livio is making coffee. Livio turns towards him at the sound of footsteps, his smile stopping short when he spots the familiar red coat Wolfwood is holding. His mouth opens in shock and glee.

“Vash is here?!”

Wolfwood grins. “Bastard visited late last night thinking I was asleep. He’s currently knocked out on my bed.”

Livio snorts. “He always did visit at odd times.”

Wolfwood makes his way to the laundry room, shoving the clothes in the washer and turning it on to start the first cycle. Heading back to the kitchen, he meets Miss Melanie and Marie. Letting them know of Vash’s whereabouts, Melanie declares putting an extra plate on the table for him. She shoos Wolfwood away, assigning him the task of waking Vash up for breakfast.

Opening the door, Wolfwood finds Vash still asleep. He sits on the edge of the bed and scratches the top of Vash’s head. “Spikey, wake up.”

Vash scrunches his nose, burying his face further into the pillow. Wolfwood rolls his eyes. Cute.

Wolfwood goes for patting Vash’s cheek. “C’mon, you’ve got guests waiting.”

Vash furrows his brows in confusion. “Guests?” he mumbles. He mulls it over some more. Then he bolts upright, suddenly wide awake, startling Wolfwood.

Vash stares at him. “Wha—” He looks around the room. “I’m not supposed to be here.” The worries from yesterday make themselves known.

Wolfwood grabs his attention. “Hey.”

Vash looks back at him, anxiety clouding in his eyes.

“Let’s go have breakfast.”

Vash chews on his bottom lip, hesitant to see everyone. He eventually lets out a, “Okay.” He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing and putting on his prosthetic with a soft click. He turns to Wolfwood with bright blue eyes, ready to go.

Wolfwood smiles, reaching out a hand. Vash takes it, climbing out of bed. Together, they head to the kitchen. Pausing at the threshold, Vash hovers over his shoulder behind him to peek at the scene before him. Melanie and Livio are preparing breakfast, cooking scrambled eggs and meat on the stove while dried fruit sits on the table. The kids are placing the cutlery and cups on the table. Vash hides behind his back, gripping his shirt.

Wolfwood turns around to face him, seeing the hesitant look. “C’mon, they're waiting to see you.”

Vash looks away. “I—”

“Wolfwood!” Melanie’s voice interrupts Vash. “Is Vash with you?”

Vash freezes.

Wolfwood grins, placing a hand on the small of Vash’s back and pushes him into the room. “He’s right here!”

Eyes turn towards Vash, making him squeak at the attention. Jonathan and Luke are the first to react, tripping over their feet as they dash to him.

“You’re back!” Jonathan shouts.

Luke hops up and down on the down in excitement. “We were waiting for you!”

Vash chuckles. “Hope you guys didn’t miss me too much?”

The rest of the youngsters crowd around Vash. Wolfwood observes with a grin while Vash tries to pacify the children. Linda hangs back behind the group, looking at Vash in wonder that he’s back.

Wolfwood bends down in front of her. “Do you want to say ‘hi’?”

Linda looks up at him shyly, nodding. Wolfwood scoops her up in his arms, bringing her closer. Sensing their presence, Vash turns to them, face lighting up when he sees Linda in his arms.

Vash holds Linda’s hand, smiling. “Hi kido. Have you been a good girl?”

Linda nods, clutching his hand, making Vash coo.

Melanie approaches the group, clapping her hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Okay everyone, give Vash some space. He’s probably hungry after being away. Go help Livio with setting the table.” She shoots Vash a smile.

Wolfwood sets Linda down as the children scatter to help with breakfast, allowing Melanie to approach the two. Vash stands up straighter at her presence which Melanie notices.

“Oh, there’s no need to be so tense dear.” Melanie places a hand on Vash’s arm. “It’s good to see you again.”

An emotion seems to overwhelm Vash, making him suck in a breath and clench his jaw. It’s silly when something as small as it’s good to see you makes him emotional.

Someone was waiting for him to return.

Vash manages a smile. “Sorry to intrude unannounced.”

Melanie waves a hand. “None of that. You’re welcome to visit anytime. Anything to repay for your help.”

Saving the orphanage, ensuring they got resources from Earth’s fleet.

Melanie replaces Wolfwood’s hand on his back. “Come sit down.”

Vash is directed to sit at the head of the table. Livio sets a plate with breakfast in front of him with a smile, saying hello and giving him a pat on the back. Vash stares at the food while everyone gathers at the table. Chatter and clinking of cutlery fill the air. Vash picks up a fork, poking at the scrambled eggs.

To his right, Wolfwood notices. “If you don’t eat I’ll spoon-feed you,” he whispers.

It’s enough to get Vash to huff a laugh. He scoops up eggs on his fork and takes a bite—it’s good. Vash has another bite, realizing how hungry he is, barely eating during the time he’s been away.

He doesn’t know when’s the last time he had a homemade meal.

The thought makes him tear up or maybe it’s the ambience of home, the welcoming people, Wolfwood. He blinks away tears.

No one says anything when the tears fall.

The rest of the day has Vash nervous to interact with anyone who isn’t Wolfwood, tailing him like a fly. He watches Wolfwood hang the laundry outside in the courtyard. He watches Wolfwood and Livio play with the children in the afternoon, a game of tag where one is blindfolded. He watches Wolfwood, Livio, and Melanie cook dinner.

Vash feels like a spectator of something he shouldn’t watch. The mundane parts of life that don’t involve running at the sound of a gun.

Sitting at the table after dinner while everything has been cleaned up, Vash doesn’t know where to go. He can’t stay in Wolfwood’s room, that’s too much. Wolfwood deserves his own privacy.

His thoughts are answered when Wolfwood pinches his cheek, snapping out of his thoughts and making him whine.

“Stop looking mopey,” Wolfwood grumbles. He has Vash’s coat and gear in his hands, dried after sitting in the sun all day. “Come with me.”

Vash follows him towards the sleeping quarters. They pass by Wolfwood's room, heading towards the end of the hallway. Wolfwood enters a room while Vash peeks inside at the doorway. The room is lightly furnished; bed, table with a chair, dresser and bathroom. The walls look freshly painted with no stains. Vash notices his travel bag is by the dresser.

Wolfwood sets the clothes on the table. “This will be your room.”

Vash stares at him. “I can’t stay here.”

Wolfwood gazes back with hands on his hips. “Sure you can. If you want a bigger room you’re gonna have to ask Livio to switch with you. He might say yes.”

Vash waves his hands. “No—this is too much. I can stay somewhere else.”

Wolfwood furrows his brows, walking towards him. He pinches Vash’s nose. “What part don’t you get? You can stay. Melanie made sure to have one ready for you even before I woke up.”

Vash rubs his nose, looking around the room—his room. The thought, the gesture, is hard to believe.

Wolfwood sighs. “This can be your home too. Just give it some thought, yeah?”

Home.

Wolfwood exits the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Vash alone.

Vash glances around the room, unsure about what to do. He starts by changing into his sleepwear and putting away the little clothes he has in the dresser. Vash glimpses inside the bathroom, deciding to wash his face with cold water. He looks at his black hair in the mirror—something he’s still getting used to. He plays with his fringe, noticing his hair is greasy and so is his skin. Turning to the side, the shower stall entices him. He hasn’t bathed in a while.

Vash ends up taking a quick shower, using as little hot water as possible. Changing back into his nightwear, he removes his prosthetic and climbs under the bedsheets. On his side, he hugs himself. The pillows are soft. Vash shoves his face into one, inhaling the scent of detergent.

He hasn’t had a good sleep in a while either.

Closing his eyes, he has a dreamless night—something he savours after being plagued with many restless ones.

Maybe a home here wouldn’t be so bad.

Vash takes some time getting adjusted, to staying in one place for the unforeseeable future (that might change later). He’s stayed with Lina and Grandma Sheryl sure, but this is different, overwhelming. He hovers around Wolfwood until he gets his bearings, learning more about the children and Melanie.

All the kids love him from the start, taking him in as an extra playmate. Vash knows Livio enough to chat with him. Melanie, ever too sweet to him than what he deserves, always asks if he needs something, anything to put his mind at ease.

What he needs is clothes—Wolfwood’s words. Melanie presented to him second-hand clothes that she kept in storage. Vash refused to take them until Wolfwood mentioned he couldn’t keep wearing the same three shirts. Melanie suggested going into town to buy something new. He refused that too but somehow he was convinced to go, Wolfwood coming along with him. Too antsy about being surrounded by unfamiliar townspeople—he’s not in his signature coat but still—Wolfwood picks out a few things for him: shirts, jeans, and a vest. Vash says yes to everything so they can finish faster. They’re back at the orphanage within an hour.

Vash is also given plenty of food. Initially, he didn’t want to have a full plate, just happy to watch everyone eat more than him. He gets wrangled into eating more by Wolfwood, Livio, and Melanie, the three of them conspiring to give him more food at any opportunity—snacks throughout the day, serving him more food on his plate before he could protest. With the help of the new garden, everyone can eat their fill. Vash has never eaten so many home-cooked meals in his long life. Not wanting to say no or throw away food, he cleans every plate he’s given.

He notices he’s putting on some weight when he looks in the mirror, filling out his lanky frame more, not as thin as before when he grabs the extra skin on his waist. Vash notices the same with Wolfwood. He grabs his stomach, making Wolfwood slap his hand away immediately, grumbling about being ticklish. The both of them didn’t have the healthiest diet when they were traversing the desert.

Not wanting to feel useless and wishing to repay the kindness of loitering here and being fed, Vash insists on tending to the garden or assisting with cleaning, cooking, caring for the Tomas—anything really. He asks Wolfwood to show him the basics. He’s never done chores.

“Washing the dishes seems easy enough for you,” Wolfwood muses. “Just don’t break anything.”

So, Vash is on dishwashing duty.

Melanie tried shooing him away the first time she saw him washing but with enough insistence from him, she relented. Once he masters dishwashing, he inserts himself into helping anyone who needs it: helping John preen the Tomas, watching over Monique, being a cooking assistant for Livio and Melanie, and helping Wolfwood with the laundry.

For the most part, Vash is settling in well enough for someone unable to stay in one place for too long. He thinks he’s got the hang of it, the domestic parts of life that don’t involve running or gunfights. There's just one problem.

He can't sleep.

No matter how hard he tries he can't get his brain to shut off for a full night's rest. Whether it’s the nightmares—the fall, people dying, him causing people to die—or his mind telling him he should run to the other side of the planet and never come back, to not disturb the peace here. He believes he sleeps better out in the desert where humanity can’t find him.

A lot of the time he lays awake at night. The best he can do is keep his eyes closed and hope for the best. At least he’s getting some rest. His eyes won’t be worn for someone to notice his lack of sleep. When he does sleep, he’s restless, tossing and turning, waking up with the bedsheet tangled around him.

This goes on for a while until he’s greeted with the worst nightmare yet.

Vash is forced to partake in it, forced to see an alternate timeline where Wolfwood died. Everything matches with his memory—couch, bride, unleashing a burst of energy—but Wolfwood doesn’t live. He doesn't save him. Vash sees a haunted expression on his own face after Wolfwood doesn’t open his eyes again.

Vash violently wakes up after witnessing himself bury Wolfwood, hand reaching for someone in the empty space beside him on the bed. He heaves on his own panic—grief, grief that he saw Wolfwood die. In reality, he was close to dying once, but he’s alive and well.

He’s alive right?

Vash staggers out of bed, almost tripping over the bedsheet. He heads to the bathroom to wipe the cold sweat off his face. Before turning on the facet, Vash looks up at his reflection.

The haunted expression from his dream is what he sees in the mirror. Vash steps back. Why does he have that look on his face? Wolfwood is fine, he’s just down the hallway.

Right?

Vash has to make sure.

He drags himself out of the bathroom, heading to Wolfwood’s room in the darkness. Vash doesn’t hear the creaks his footsteps are making in the dead of night, adamant on seeing alive Wolfwood with his own eyes, nor does he realize how cold he is, shivering from his cooled sweat.

Pushing the door out of the way, Vash approaches the bed. Wolfwood is lying on his back, eyes closed—sleeping? With a knee on the bed, Vash reaches to feel a pulse. His cold hand touches Wolfwood’s neck. A heartbeat thumps under his fingertips and he lets out a breath he was holding.

The cold against his heated skin wakes up Wolfwood. Shivering, he grabs Vash’s wrist. He knows it’s Vash without opening his eyes based on the feel of his wrist. Plus, the kids who visit at night poke him awake. There’s no sound or movement from Vash at the contact which concerns Wolfwood. Opening his eyes, he finds Vash staring down at him with wide eyes as if something spooked him. There are tear stains on his cheeks. And feathers?

“Spikey?”

Vash doesn’t reply, the only reaction he shows is water collecting in his eyes. Wolfwood’s concern grows. He sits up, using the grip on Vash’s wrist to pull him closer and fully onto the bed, tucking his head into his shoulder. Vash is freezing under his arms, his body shaking with tremors. Wolfwood rubs a warm hand up and down his back.

“Vash, what happened?” Wolfwood whispers into Vash’s ear.

Vash slides a hand up Wolfwood’s chest, stopping at where his heart sits. “I saw you die,” he hiccups. “I had to make sure…”

Wolfwood cards a hand into Vash’s hair. “I’m right here.” He leans back, bringing their bodies down to lie on the bed. Vash shifts into a ball, making himself as small as possible while gripping Wolfwood’s front, face pressed into his chest.

Wolfwood massages Vash’s nape. “You’re gonna wake up sore in the morning like that.”

Vash shakes his head, body tightening further. “I can’t go back to sleep,” he sobs. The usual nightmares leave him awake for hours. Tonight’s nightmare will leave him awake for days. “I can’t sleep.”

Wolfwood heart squeezes. “Okay, okay.” He continues to comfort Vash in any way he can, rubbing a hand down his back and side, petting his head with fingers through his hair. It does help Vash unwind, his crying evening out to slow nasally breaths. Wolfwood coaxes Vash to straighten out his legs with a hand on his thigh, no longer hunched over. Vash shifts, his head is still against his chest but this time, his ear leans into him. He’s listening to his breathing, his heartbeat. Wolfwood holds Vash’s head there.

Wolfwoods cards his fingers into Vash’s hair. “I don’t know how you did it but thank you for saving me and everyone.”

Vash grips his shirt. A dry sob escapes him.

Wolfwood waits for Vash to fall asleep, even when the noises have faded and Vash is still. He knows Vash is awake from the minute twitches he makes, mind unable to shut down. It takes almost an hour for Vash to completely let go, body slackening. Wolfwood follows soon after.

Vash doesn’t wake up again, sleeping the whole night.

They don’t talk about it. Vash is grateful he doesn’t have to talk about his hysteria in the daylight. It’s harder than in the darkness. Besides, Vash thinks after Wolfwood’s reassurance and getting almost a full night’s rest, he’ll be fine.

He’s kidding himself.

He tries sleeping the following night. It doesn’t work out for him, having gotten worse. He can’t sleep, eyes staring blankly into the darkness. Vash stays awake for days straight despite the short respite he got that night sleeping with Wolfwood, can’t close his eyes without seeing the nightmare playing out in his mind. He can maybe sleep an hour or two at best. A small voice tells him to go to Wolfwood, he was able to sleep uninterrupted next to him. Vash doesn’t listen to it.

Every day he’s exhausted, it’s clear on his face. He knows everyone can see it, getting sympathetic looks, even the children are gentle with him. Both Wolfwood and Livio stop him from some of the more strenuous chores, taking them upon themselves before Vash can protest. It makes Vash feel small, almost helpless.

Wolfwood approaches him after lunch when everyone has left the kitchen. He leans on the counter beside him. “Spikey, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” Vash echos, putting down the plate he’s washing.

Wolfwood makes a face. “Is there something the matter?”

Vash blinks at the question. Then his tired brain catches up on the implication. Wolfwood is worried.

Vash waves a hand, pulling it back towards him when water sprays everywhere. “I’m fine! Just a little tired and still getting adjusted!” He’s been here for two months. How long does it usually take?

Wolfwood furrows his brows. “Well, let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

Vash nods. “Sure!”

When Wolfwood leaves, Vash rests an elbow on the counter, covering his face with his palm, briefly closing his eyes. He’s so tired—he’ll try harder.

Vash attempts to sleep, breathing deeply, searching his brain for any tips to calm himself into falling asleep—counting to a thousand, emptying his mind, drinking a glass of water before bed. Nothing works judging by the prominent eyebags he sees when he looks at his reflection.

Failed attempts at trying to sleep have him paranoid about making everyone worry about him, putting effort into not looking like he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. It takes a lot of energy out of him. Even eating feels like a chore, his appetite nonexistent from the overwhelming fatigue. He ignores Wolfwood’s watchful gaze, putting on a smile when he’s given a look.

Vash almost cries when Melanie bids him goodnight with a sad smile, saying, “Rest well.”

He can’t.

One afternoon while sweeping the floor, Vash sways on his feet, the edges of his vision fuzzy. He sits at the table for a moment, for a short pause.

“Mr. Vash!” Jonathan yells from the courtyard.

Vash sighs, gathering his energy.

Footsteps run towards him. Jonathan pops up beside him. “We’re playing a game, you have to join! Nico is playing too!”

Vash smiles. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

Jonathan gives him a conflicted look before smiling back. He runs back outside.

Vash breathes. Can’t keep everyone waiting.

He stands and takes a step forward, albeit too quickly, too fast where all the fatigue of not sleeping properly catches up to him all at once. His vision blurs, darkness slowly obscuring everything in front of him. Struggling to stay upright, he falls to his knees, blinking rapidly but the darkness doesn't fade. The exhaustion overwhelms him and there's a ringing in his ears, making him unaware of his surroundings. A distant shout is heard through the noise.

Hands cup his face, raising his head. Vash struggles to open his eyes, not realizing he has shut them. He blinks away the fogginess enough that he can see the person in front of him—Wolfwood.

Wolfwood’s concerned expression comes into view, wide eyes scanning his face. Vash tries to tell him he’s okay but his tongue is too heavy. He makes a poor attempt at reaching the arms holding his face, limbs too shaky. Wolfwood’s frown deepens.

“Vash?”

Vash leans heavily into the palms keeping his head up.

“What’s wrong?”

He’s so tired.

Tears well up in his eyes, frustration getting the best of him. Thumbs wipe away the tears.

Hands pull away and Vash slumps forward, head landing on Wolfwood’s shoulder. Arms wrap over his back and under his legs, and he’s lifted. His body gives in to sleep, knowing he's safe in Wolfwood’s arms.

Vash blinks his eyes open sometime later in bed, vision clearer than earlier but still tired. He has a lot of sleep to catch up on. Moving his gaze to the side, he sees Wolfwood.

Wolfwood sits on the chair with his leg bouncing on the floor, reading one of those gardening books. He hasn’t noticed Vash is awake.

Vash plants his hands on the bed to sit up. The movement has Wolfwood jerking his head up.

“He—” Vash coughs before getting a word out, throat dry.

Wolfwood passes him the glass of water sitting on the side table. Vash drinks it gratefully, the cool liquid clearing his throat. He rests the glass back on the table.

Wolfwood looks at him with a serious expression. “Can you tell me what’s happening? To put it lightly, you don’t look good.”

Vash stares at his lap—he doesn’t know where to start. I can't sleep sounds too childly. Every time I close my eyes my mind plays out what could’ve been is too grim.

Vash rubs the back of his neck. “I’m fine.” Fine is putting it lightly. “I haven't been sleeping a lot.”

Wolfwood crosses his arms, not convinced. “Nothing else? You almost scared Jonathan.” He squints at him, glancing at his black hair.

Vash winces, realizing he might have worried everyone more than he thought when he dropped to the floor. Wolfwood is probably thinking he’s dying. “Wolfwood.”

Wolfwood’s gaze drops back to his eyes.

“I'm not sick, I just can’t sleep. That’s all,” Vash stresses.

Wolfwood loosens up a bit, leaning back against the chair. “Is it the dreams?”

Vash knows Wolfwood is implying nightmares without saying it. He hunches his shoulders, not wanting to admit it—he should though, it’s just Wolfwood. He should at least try and be open about it after fainting like that. “Yes,” he mumbles, chewing on his lip. “It’s hard to sleep while restless and the dreams don't help.”

Wolfwood hums—he understands. It’s hard to sit still and stay in one place after years. Vash hasn’t sat still longer than he has. Wolfwood was fidgeting for days in the beginning, bad dreams here and there. Some nights he felt like going out for a run when the restlessness got bad. “Is there anything that can help?”

One thing comes to mind and Vash flushes, glancing away. The only thing that helped was sleeping with Wolfwood. “Uh, not being alone helps.”

Wolfwood rests a hand under his chin. “That’s easy enough as long as you don’t suddenly disappear.”

As long as Vash understands he has a place to stay here.

Wolfwood sighs when Vash doesn’t respond. “Hey.”

Vash looks up.

Wolfwood holds his gaze. “Promise me you will say something when things get bad or come bother me even if you don’t feel like talking. Don’t tell me you're fine when you’re not.”

Vash manages a smile. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good enough for me.” Wolfwood stands, preparing to leave. “I should leave you to it, and by ‘it’ I mean sleeping.” He rests his hands on his hips. “Is there anything you need?”

Vash directs his gaze away again, hands fidgeting. There is one thing. “Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

He misses the smile he gets.

“Alright.” Wolfwood plants himself back on the chair, grabbing the book he abandoned earlier.

Vash settles back against the bed, turning on his side. He watches Wolfwood for a moment, reading the book in his hand. With Wolfwood’s presence by his side, he closes his eyes. Mind and body still exhausted, he falls asleep minutes later.

Making good on his promise, Vash ‘bothers’ Wolfwood when he has bad dreams.

He sleeps in Wolfwood's bed more often than not, almost every night, sneaking into the room like a stray looking for a warm place to stay. It helps take the edge off the feeling of being alone. Staring at Wolfwood’s face or back does the job of making him close his eyes and pass out into a dreamless sleep. Other times, he shuffles closer, just close enough to touch the fabric of Wolfwood’s shirt like he’s afraid of disturbing him.

One night, Wolfwood wakes up to find Vash sleeping on top of the covers, curled up at the edge of the bed. He's cold to the touch when Wolfwood brings him closer, tugging the blanket out from underneath and draping it over him. Vash shudders in his sleep at the new warmth but doesn’t rouse. Wolfwood doesn't understand how he can slumber like that for someone who’s sleep-deprived to the point of fainting but if Vash is getting enough rest like this, then so be it. He'll make sure he doesn’t freeze overnight.

Vash’s mood improves considerably, not weighed down by exhaustion. His smiles are less worn, he’s not as nervous when talking to the kids or Miss Melanie. The eyebags are slowly fading. Wolfwood breathes a sigh of relief whenever he sees Vash sleeping beside him in the morning.

One of the nights Vash is with him, Wolfwood has his own nightmare.

His hands are bloody and there are bodies around him. Wolfwood doesn’t want to know what he did to them. He’s had this dream multiple times before, has grown numb to it. This time, when he’s made a different life for himself, it haunts him, a reminder to never forget what he’s done in his previous life—the same life. He’s changed, he’s proven that. But why does he still see red on his hands? Does he deserve a second chance?

Wolfwood wakes up with a sharp inhale, body curled on his side. He wipes the sweat off his face with a hand. The urge to smoke consumes him.

“Wolfwood?”

Shit. He woke up Vash. “Go back to sleep,” Wolfwood rasps.

Vash shuffles closer behind him. “I was already awake.”

Wolfwood jumps when Vash touches his back with the pads of his fingers. He doesn’t move.

“Turn around?” Vash asks.

Wolfwood is too twitchy to be coaxed into whatever Vash wants to do, let alone face him. He turns around anyway, keeping his eyes closed.

Vash wraps an arm around his head, pulling Wolfwood close against his chest. Wolfwood holds his breath when fingers card through his hair, their roles reversed. Sometimes it’s easier to give comfort than receive it, receiving it is admitting you're vulnerable. He doesn’t know what to do in this position, doesn’t like being in it.

“This helps me so…” Vash trails off.

Wolfwood lies still, not pushing Vash away or moving closer, clenching his hands into fists. He doesn’t want to touch.

“Hey,” Vash whispers.

Wolfwood grunts in acknowledgement, sounding choked up.

Vash rests his head on top of his. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Wolfwood exhales—right, he’s no longer made of violence, using his hands to protect others. Tension leaves his body as he wraps an arm around Vash, letting it rest there. Vash nuzzles the top of his head in response. Wolfwood dozes off moments later.

They wake up in the morning in the same position. Vash is awake before him, hand scratching his scalp. With the nightmare plaguing his mind, Wolfwood doesn’t want to get up, content with staying in bed. Vash pulls away first, making Wolfwood grumble and pull the bedsheet over his head.

Vash chuckles. “C’mon, it’s time to get up.”

Wolfwood buries further into the mattress, not listening. He yelps when the sheet is yanked away, revealing a smiling Vash. Wolfwood glares at him.

Vash grabs his hand, tugging him to sit up. “Let’s go.”

Wolfwood doesn’t resist when dragged out of bed, Vash guiding him to the kitchen to start a new day. The nightmare still lingers at the back of his mind, enough for him to hesitate when resting a hand on any of the kids. Vash is always there with him when he wavers, soothing him with a touch on his arm and giving him one of those smiles. He reminds Wolfwood that he can have this, this second chance of supporting the orphanage along with Livio and Miss Melanie.

Wolfwood stops hesitating the following day.

Melanie arrives from her trip to the nearby town carrying a box full of bundles of cotton yarn. She lays out various colours on the table while everyone gathers around, explaining, “I want to make some clothes for the little ones.”

“Can I have orange?” Cactus asks.

Jonathan points at the bright green cotton. “I want green!”

The younglings hover around the table, examining the different colours and choosing their favourite—Gary picks yellow and Linda points at the purple yarn. Melanie picks baby blue for Monique.

Vash stares at the assortment of cotton. A voice beside him catches his attention.

“What's your favourite colour, Mr. Vash?” Linda questions.

Vash pretends to consider the question for a couple of seconds, eyes glancing at the bundle of red. He pats Linda’s head. “It’s red!”

Seeing the interaction, an idea pops into Wolfwood’s head. He tells Melanie about it when Vash leaves the room to play outside with the kids.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Melanie exclaims. “We’ll surprise him.” She buys more red cotton.

Wolfwood gets roped into his own idea—he has to learn knitting—along with everyone else, making sure Vash doesn’t find out about the surprise. The youngest kids distract Vash long enough for the rest of them to weave his present. Melanie works the fastest, followed by Marie, John, and Livio. Wolfwood is slow but hey, he’s trying his best.

One evening, he sits outside practicing a difficult stitch. The view of the sunset and the silence makes him want to take out a cigarette and bask in the ambiance. He wills the feeling away by keeping his mind and hands busy.

Vash ends up catching him knitting, popping his head out the backdoor. “There you are!”

Wolfwood jumps, pushing back the urge to hide what he’s doing so he doesn’t look suspicious. “Hey.”

Vash glimpses at the red fabric in his lap. “I didn’t know you knit.”

He doesn’t. “Thought I’d give it a try.”

“That’s a pretty red,” Vash hums.

It is a pretty red. It’s similar to the red on Vash’s coat.

Vash remembers why he came looking for him. “It’s time for dinner.”

Wolfwood grunts, standing up. “Alright, lead the way.”

After Vash excuses himself from the table, Melanie and Livio nearly scold him for ruining the surprise. Even Linda gives him a disappointed frown. Wolfwood argues that Vash has no idea about it, oblivious to what they’re doing.

It takes about a week's effort to put together the present.

Like usual, Wolfwood rouses in the morning earlier than Vash who is sound asleep on his back beside him, not curled up uncomfortably anymore. Running a hand through his hair doesn’t stir him.

Getting up, Wolfwood heads to the kitchen where Melanie is making breakfast on the stove. The present sits in a box on the other end of the counter. Wolfwood helps cook as everyone trickles into the room one by one. Vash is the last to arrive, rubbing away the sleep in his eyes. Seeing him, Melanie quickly takes out the present from the box, hiding it behind her as she approaches a sleepy Vash.

“Vash, dear,” Melanie calls. “We have something for you.”

Vash blinks at her, confused. “Huh?”

Melanie reveals a knitted red cardigan. “This is for you.”

Vash’s half-awake mind blanks out, caught off guard from being given something—he’s imposing too much already, why is he presented with a gift? He gapes when he recognizes the red fabric he saw in Wolfwood’s hands the other day. Vash had no idea they were making something for him. “I can’t take this.”

Melanie is unfazed at his refusal. “Sure you can, it was made for you.”

Made for him. He can’t take anything more from them than he already has—eating and sleeping here, took some clothes too. Everyone took him in with little to no questions. Nothing else should be given to him much less handmade.

“It was Wolfwood’s idea,” Melania adds.

Vash directs his wide gaze at Wolfwood, looking for answers.

Wolfwood shrugs. “Something to replace your coat with. You lack some red.”

Vash’s signature coat is too much to wear inside when everyone else is wearing normal clothes. Where it has been worn almost every day has been reduced to almost nil. He’s barely worn it since he started staying here.

Vash looks back at the cardigan with tears in his eyes. He takes the fabric into his hands. It’s soft. “I—Thank you.”

Melanie smiles. “Try it on.”

Vash tentatively slips his arms through the sleeves, putting on the cardigan. It’s slightly baggy but it fits, reaching to his thighs. He loves it—he’s never been this emotional putting on a piece of clothing.

Melanie smoothes out the wrinkles on his shoulders. “It looks lovely on you. I was worried it would be too big.”

Vash flushes at the compliment, fingers gripping the hem of the sleeves. He likes it a bit baggy.

The rest of the day has him parading around with the cardigan while playing with the children and helping with chores. The warmth of the fabric has him smiling all day, overjoyed to have something from the orphanage. He’s going to take great care of it and wear it every day—when the desert heat isn’t too bad. Even then, he likes soaking up the extra heat. His high cools off into drowsiness in the evening, a happy kind of tiredness.

Vash helps Melanie tuck the kids into bed. They notice Linda is missing and so, Vash is tasked with searching for her. Poking his head in the living room, he finds her sleeping on the couch next to Wolfwood, her head resting on his lap. Noticing him, Wolfwood puts a finger to his lips. Vash tiptoes over to him and sits on the couch.

Wolfwood cards a hand through Linda’s hair. “She needed help falling asleep,” he explains.

A smile tugs on Vash’s lips. Like me.

Melanie is next to enter the living room, spotting the three of them on the couch. “Ah, there she is.” She scoops Linda up in her arms with a hand behind her head. Linda stays asleep. “Have a goodnight boys, don’t stay up too late.”

Wolfwood salutes while Vash chirps, “We won’t!”

With just the two of them in the room, Vash sinks into the couch, body slouching. Wolfwood does the same.

“Seems like you're a good pillow,” Vash jests.

Wolfwood huffs. “Wouldn’t have thought so until recently.”

Vash grins, knowing what Wolfwood is implying, having used him as a pillow to sleep better on some nights. He’s too giddy to feel embarrassed about it, even less embarrassed about showing how good of a pillow Wolfwood is by scooting closer and lying his head on Wolfwood’s lap, just like Linda did.

Wolfwood grunts above him at the heavier weight. “What, you’re gonna sleep just like that?”

Vash presses his face into Wolfwood’s thigh, closing his eyes. “Yes.”

Wolfwood tsks without heat. He buries a hand in Vash’s hair while the other rests on his arm. Vash sighs with contentment, curling his body closer to Wolfwood, back pressed to his stomach. He feels warm, happy to be where he is at this moment. Vash falls asleep within minutes.

From then on, Vash’s nightmares fade away to dreamless nights, no longer plaguing his sleep. He still visits Wolfwood at night though, liking the extra company.

Wolfwood gazes down at a sleeping Vash, almost in disbelief at how quickly he nodded off. He continues to card his fingers into the black hair, gently detangling the knots. Vash lets out happy sighs in his sleep.

A heady sense of fondness overcomes him then, making him want to do something reckless. There’s no one here to witness it.

Brushing the fringe away, Wolfwood leans down and presses his lips to Vash’s temple. A goodnight kiss no one will know.

Enough minutes pass by before Wolfwood lifts Vash into this arm and stands. Vash stays sound asleep as Wolfwood walks towards the sleeping quarters. Entering Vash’s room, Wolfwood balances him with one arm as he pulls the bedsheets out, lying him down on the mattress. Vash whines at being let go but doesn’t rouse. Wolfwood placates him with a hand in his hair while tucking the sheets under his chin.

Wolfwood leaves the room lest he does something bolder.

Vash believes things are going smoothly at the orphanage and has fully got his bearings staying here with everyone. He’s now capable of doing all sorts of chores without help or Wolfwood having to hover over him in case he stumbles. However, he’s less adept in the kitchen, having burnt scrambled eggs when he tried to surprise everyone with breakfast. Luckily, Livio saved the day and made a fresh batch before anyone walked in, giving Vash tips and the various ways one could cook an egg. Vash will get the hang of cooking various meals one day, starting small with pan-frying toast soaked in an egg and milk mixture—French toast. He had learned it during his time with Rem.

Other than that, Vash is content with himself. He doesn’t feel restless, he wants to stay where he is, something that’s becoming fulfilling for him. Vash wonders what it would be like to help raise the children here in the long term, seeing them grow up. Something as simple as that would make him happy, even happier Wolfwood is with him. The red cardigan he wears every day is a reminder that he’s welcome here.

While his mind fantasizes about the future, his body has its own agenda. He’s been feeling unusual the past week.

He gets random bouts of fatigue and heat flashes, having to steady himself whenever he stands too quickly. It’s a different kind of fatigue than sleep deprivation. This fatigue is the kind where his insides ache as if something is simmering and waiting for the opportunity to lash out. When waking up in the morning, his body is heavy and his mind is hazy, having to wait a moment to blink out of his daze.

Vash doesn’t get sick but maybe that’s changed too, susceptible to human ailments after sapping his Plant lifeforce, or maybe his age is finally catching up to him. The illness is not enough to affect the usual routine he does at the orphanage and he still has the energy to play with the kids. It's nothing serious, so Vash doesn’t say anything.

At one point, Wolfwood notices his skin is warmer. Wolfwood runs hotter than him, so when he touches his nape, Vash is warmer under his touch.

“Are you getting a fever?” Wolfwood asks.

Vash leans back against the hand and considers the question. He has all the symptoms of a fever but the aches and heat flashes are inconsistent. “I don’t think so. Maybe the heat is getting to me.”

Wolfwood lets go of Vash’s nape. “Alright, just don’t pass out on me.” He doesn’t want a repeat of Vash fainting.

While Vash’s body is running like a furnace, he's also acting strange. Only towards Wolfwood.

Vash knows he can be a bit clingy but now he’s extra clingy. He wraps his arms around Wolfwood in inopportune moments before his brain catches up with his actions, his body having a mind of its own. Whether it be during breaks between chores or one time during dinner—in front of the kids and Miss Melanie which had Vash turning beat red even though no one batted an eye—Vash acts on a yearning urge to be closer. He'll try to sneak a touch, whenever Wolfwood is within arms reach. Embarrassing himself, Vash laughs it off when Wolfwood raises a brow at him in silent question. Wolfwood wraps an arm around him anyway which causes Vash’s body temperature to spike.

In his sleep, Vash wraps himself around Wolfwood, using him like an overgrown body pillow, latching to his back or front. He didn’t know he was doing it until Wolfwood had to wake him up to get out of bed, Vash preventing him from leaving by keeping him in a death grip.

Before he would passively watch Wolfwood, staring at the tasks he was doing. Now, Vash is gazing at him. The outline of his back when he flexes, the muscles on his arms when he rolls up his sleeves before hanging up the clothes out to dry, his face, eyelashes. He's pretty. Vash flushes at his thoughts and the obvious gawking he's doing.

Maybe he was looking this entire time, and embarrassingly clingy, but now he’s conscious of it.

Besides the pretty part, he’s hyperaware of Wolfwood and anyone he interacts with. Vash caught himself staring at Wolfwood hugging Meryl and Milly, the girls visiting the orphanage for a while. A low rumble formed at the back of his throat—a growl. Vash didn’t know he could make that kind of sound, filing it into the back of his mind as something he should investigate later. He clears his throat to get rid of it before saying hi.

Jealous, his mind supplies but he doesn't know why. Wolfwood gives him enough attention and humours him when he makes a fool of himself from the clinginess.

Vash finds Wolfwood dozing on the couch one afternoon, legs sprawled and lap looking inviting to sit on—that's when he puts a break to his thoughts and removes himself from the room. There's no humoring that.

The next day has him waking sweaty and sore, lying in bed until late morning. There aren’t many chores to do today so he’ll take it easy and foregoes wearing his cardigan.

Out in the courtyard in the afternoon, Vash is on watch duty while some of the little rascals—Jonathan, Gary, and Luke—roughhouse in the distance, have gotten themselves dragged in a few times already. He stands off to the side to cool down, the heat getting the best of him, and watches the children play a round of tag.

“Mr. Vash?” Linda calls him from the open door.

Vash turns around with a smile. “Hi Linda, what—” A bolt of pain runs throughout his body, straining his smile. Stumbling, he sucks in a breath as the pain continues to run its course with no sign of letting up. Fevered heat accompanies the throbbing causing him to fall to his knees with arms around his abdomen where it hurts the most. Vash hears a voice call out but a ringing in his ears obscures it. Something white appears in his vision and he looks down at his flesh arm—feathers, growing and forcing their way out of the confines of his shirt.

No, no, no.

Vash clutches the flesh arm with his prosthetic, trying to stop the feathers from spreading and going out of control. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him, unable to stop whatever his body is trying to do, had thought he used up all of his powers. Why is his body going out of control? There’s shouting around him—the kids. They’re in danger.

Vash heaves in panic and pain, tears falling as he fruitlessly wills away the feathers that sting across his skin. He hunches down, trying to make himself as small as possible, make the radius of whatever blast as small as possible. He doesn’t want to ruin what he has here and turn everything to dust.

A hand touches his shoulder and he wails with an inhuman noise, flinching away and not wanting to hurt anyone. The hand insists on touching him and another lands him on his other shoulder. They pull him up to face the person in front of him. Through the blurriness of his tears and agony, Wolfwood’s concerned face comes into view.

“Vash?”

Vash shakes his head, throat not able to produce words. He pushes Wolfwood away but all his strength has left him, leaving him squirming to get out of his grasp. He whines high-pitched. Get away, please God don’t make me hurt anyone.

Wolfwood only pulls him closer, sliding an arm around his back and a hand in his hair. He pulls his head towards his neck, petting his hair, seemingly knowing what to do. “Shh, it’s okay. Everyone’s safe.”

Vash grasps his front, squeezes his eyes shut and prays he doesn’t hurt Wolfwood. He breathes openly into Wolfwood’s neck and a familiar scent enters the forefront of his mind amongst the brain fog. A scent he considers home.

My mate.

Shuffling closer, Vash hones in on the scent that soothes his insides. He noses along the skin and presses his lips to it, causing the heartbeat underneath to jump. Wrapping his feathery tendrils around Wolfwood, Vash makes himself at home in his arms, heat and pain settling down to a slow burn.

Wolfwood's heart slows down now that Vash is subdued.

Linda had shouted for him from outside, yelling about something being wrong with Vash. He ran across the kitchen to the door that led to the courtyard, the trio—Livio, Milly, and Meryl—right behind him. Stopped beside Linda at the threshold, he saw what was wrong—Vash hunched over and covered with writhing feathers. The kids that were playing outside looked at Vash from a distance, scared and worried.

Wolfwood was by Vash's side in an instant, touching his shoulder and feathers that burned under his fingers. Vash let out a shrill that’s more creature than human. Heart clenching when he saw Vash's face in pain and struggling to get away, he pulled him close and hoped it would ease him. It seemed to do the trick as within a few minutes, Vash settled down with his face—and lips—pressed against his neck with his feathers clinging to him. Despite calming Vash down, the unnatural heat under his skin tells Wolfwood that he’s still suffering from something.

Wolfwood doesn't know what that something is.

He secures Vash in his arms, wrapping an arm under his legs and stands. Vash doesn’t react, staying pliant in his hold. "Linda," Wolfwood calls, walking towards the rest of the group. Everyone looks at Vash with concern. "What happened?"

"I don't know…he was fine and then—" She points at Vash.

Luke is next to him with teary eyes. "Is he okay?" Behind him, Jonathan and Gary have similar expressions. Pairs of eyes stare at the white feathers.

“Is Vash an angel?” Linda asks the silent question.

The younger kids don’t know who Vash is or his nature. Vash doesn’t sprout feathers voluntarily so there wasn’t a reason to say anything. Melanie, John, and Marie know, albeit not to the full extent of it. Even Wolfwood doesn’t know everything.

Wolfwood smiles softly. "He's sick but he'll be okay. Go play inside while we take care of him." The kids let our varies okay, faces sullen as they leave.

Wolfwood doesn’t want to worry them but he doesn't know what caused Vash pain. He replays what happened today as he tries to remember anything that seemed odd: Vash had been fine just this morning, the only thing that comes to mind is Vash’s pinched face, brushing it off the heat bothering him. Then something else enters his mind—last night he had brushed his hand along Vash’s shoulder, bidding him goodnight, and his brain noted that Vash’s body heat was higher than two days ago when he asked if he was getting a fever. Wolfwood tsks.

"What should we do?" Milly's question brings him out of his thoughts, worry evident in her voice.

Livio crosses his arms with a thoughtful expression. "We should let him rest, it could be a fever."

Wolfwood gazes down at the tendrils twitching around him, feeling breaths and eyelashes tickling his neck. Vash is still awake, but not aware of anything around him. Wolfwood looks up and catches Meryl’s gaze.

"I think this is something else than him being sick," Meryl voices.

Silence descends upon them, all of them thinking the same thing: it's a Plant issue. How does one deal with a Plant issue?

Milly’s eyes light up, breaking the silence. "Why don't we bring him to Luida and Brad? Ludia will know what it is!”

Wolfwood grunts in agreement. It’s their best option to figure out what’s wrong with Vash.

“I’ll drive us to the ship. I know how to get there!” Meryl declares.

They inform Melanie about the situation, concern on her face seeing Vash in Wolfwood’s arms. “I’ll radio Luida and tell her what’s happening.”

Wolfwood didn’t know Melanie contacts the equivalent of a parental figure to Vash. Lately, he had caught her talking enthusiastically to someone on the radio. Must be Luida.

He also mentions to her about the kids seeing Vash’s feathered state. Melanie sees the conflicted look on his face and rests a hand on his shoulder, telling him with a smile, “I’ll talk to them.”

Wolfwood is immensely grateful, a weight off his shoulders.

They head towards Meryl’s truck parked on the other side of the orphanage. Meryl and Milly climb in the front while Wolfwood opens the back door. He places Vash in the backseat of the truck and lets go. He doesn't get far when Vash reacts with a hiss as if offended, deeming Wolfwood's arms and neck as the most comfortable place on the planet. Vash grabs him back with hands and feathers, leaving Wolfwood no choice but to carry him as he curls up back into his favourite spot.

"Seems like you woke the beast," Meryl jests from the driver seat.

Wolfwood rolls his eyes, adjusting Vash in his arms and climbs into the truck with him on his lap. Vash’s face is plastered to his neck, humming with contentment. Wolfwood’s hair stands on end every time Vash’s lips so much as graze his pulse point.

Livio waves them a safe trip, staying behind, as Meryl starts the vehicle and they head towards their destination. She and Milly converse in idle chatter while Wolfwood makes himself comfortable in the backseat. Vash makes snuffling sounds, small tremors raking his frame. Wolfwood drags a hand down Vash’s back to soothe him, presumably not liking being cramped in the vehicle. The sounds settle down along with the tremors but are replaced with something else. Wolfwood hears a rumbling sound coming from Vash. He blinks.

Vash is purring.

Wolfwood takes a moment to process this new information, thinking he’s seen everything when it comes to Vash. Guess not.

Vash’s body vibrates in tandem with the purrs, completely lax in Wolfwood’s arms. It’s like holding an ignited engine. It lasts for about an hour into the trip.

They reach the floating ship in a couple of hours, mist obscuring the area. They stop by what Wolfwood assumes is the main entrance. Meryl and Milly jump out. Wolfwood follows, looking up at the floating structure in front of him. Glancing back down, he sees a ramp pull out in front of them and someone approaching them.

“Meryl, Milly, you both look well,” Ludia greet them. She turns her gaze to Wolfwood. “You’re looking a lot better since the last time I saw you.”

Wolfwood stands a little straighter. “Thank you for uh, helping me and everyone.”

Luida waves a hand. “It’s the least I could do.” She looks down at Vash. “I have a hunch on what’s happening. Come with me.”

They follow her inside the ship, guiding them through hallways. Luida gestures to Meryl and Milly towards a hallway. “You girls can wait with Brad in the dining room. It‘s on the left down the hall.” She turns her gaze to Wolfwood. “Follow me.”

Both of them enter a room down the hallway to what looks like a private infirmary, pristine white with an intravenous bag ready.

Luida grabs the IV pole. “Lay him on the bed.”

Wolfwood does what he’s told, expecting it not to end well like earlier. Pulling his arms away, his suspicions are correct when Vash hisses, throwing a fit with arms and feathers curling tighter around Wolfwood.

Wolfwood grunts, “Spikey, c’mon I won’t go anywhere.”

Vash doesn’t speak nor listen, wrapping himself around Wolfwood. Is this why Vash is wrapping himself around him lately?

Luida watches the struggle. “How about this: give me his arm.”

Wolfwood sits on the bed, adjusting Vash on his lap and grabbing his flesh arm. There’s no resistance when he presents it to Luida. She quickly inserts the IV, nothing but a twitch coming from Vash.

Luida fiddles with the IV line, injecting a clear substance into the tube with a needle, going into Vash’s bloodstream. “This should help.”

They wait a few moments until Vash becomes slack, the feathers around Wolfwood drooping when he goes unconscious. After hours of being attached, Wolfwood lays him down on the bed. Vash’s eyes are closed, small white feathers are visible across his lax face. His skin is flushed red. Can someone like him get sick? Plant fever? Whatever that means.

Luida’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “I’ll do some tests. You can wait with the others.”

Wolfwood leaves, trying to remember where Meryl and Milly went. He hears chatter down the hall, recognizes Milly’s loud voice, and strides in that direction.

Meryl, Milly, and Brad sit by a table in the middle of the dining room, drinking tea. Milly spots him first, waving. “Mr. Wolfwood! How is he?”

Wolfwood shrugs, walking over. “Beats me, Luida is doing some tests.” He nods a hello at Brad, shaking his hand in greeting. Brad shakes his hand but not without a squint. Wolfwood’s hair stands on end when he sits down, feeling scrutinized for something he doesn’t know what, but then Brad grins.

“Hey kid, hope Vash isn’t giving you too much trouble?”

Wolfwood relaxes. “Not too much, he’s pulling his weight with the chores.”

Brad raises a brow. “Oh? Finally learning not to cause a ruckus?”

Wolfwood snorts. The only commotion Vash is causing is roughhousing with the children, or more like he gets roughhoused by them. Other than the insomnia Vash had, no issues have come up. Except for whatever is going on with him right now.

They chat for a while, talking about the latest happenings on the planet: more greenery spreading across the desert with the help of Earth and humanity back on its feet with cities rebuilding and populating. Things are slowly becoming more peaceful.

Luida enters the room after over an hour of examining Vash, causing everyone to quiet down.

Brad speaks first. “How is he?”

“Good news,” Luida looks at the clipboard she’s holding. “It’s nothing serious.”

Wolfwood scrunches up his face. Vash was not fine earlier, and it looked painful. “How do you explain the feathers and all?”

“Well, because of Vash’s slightly different biology, he can go through periods of physiological and psychological changes caused by reproductive hormones, like having a high body temperature. Bird species experience this as well,” Luida explains. “In simpler terms, a heat.”

The long and short answers explain nothing to Wolfwood. He doesn’t know what any of that means. Milly is in the same boat as him while Brad and Meryl gape.

Before Luida explains further, Milly interrupts. “Oh, like Tomas!” she exclaims.

That’s when Wolfwood gapes. The orphanage calls it a frenzy when Tomas are sexually active and wanting to mate.

Huh.

Wolfwood’s mind replays the last couple of hours, from Vash latching on to him since the heat started to not wanting to let go.

Luida continues. “I gave him something to help with the pain.”

Milly presses her hands together with a pleading look. “Can we go see him?”

“Of course. You’ll have to excuse his grogginess, he woke up not too long ago.” Luida gestures for them to follow. The group makes their way to the infirmary, Luida knocking on the door to announce their presence. “Vash, your friends want to see you.”

Vash lets out a come in on the other side. Opening the door reveals him sitting up on the bed, IV still attached, looking less flushed and featherless. “Hey guys.”

Milly is by his side in an instant. “Mr. Vash! How're feeling?”

“Much better.” Vash rubs his neck. “Sorry for the scare. I should be good by tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.” Luida shakes her head. “You’re staying longer. At least a couple of days and I need to do some more tests to make sure you’re okay.”

Vash gapes. “A few days? What about Miss Melanie and the kids?”

“Milly and I will go back,” Meryl suggests.

Milly pats Wolfwood hard on the back, making him cough. “Mr. Wolfwood will keep you company!”

Vash flushes. “I’ll be fine, I don’t need company!”

Wolfwood rolls his eyes. “I’ll make sure he stays put.”

“Make that two.” Brad pipes in.

Vash lets out a huff, feeling put out. It’s going to be a long couple of days.

Wolfwood walks out of the ship with Meryl and Milly to say goodbye. Milly jumps into the truck while Meryl hangs back.

Meryl crosses her arms. “By the way, is there something going on?”

Wolfwood raises a brow.

“Between you and Vash,” Meryl clarifies.

Wolfwood squints at her. “There’s nothing going on.”

Meryl scrutinizes him with a stare for a few seconds, not liking his answer. She sighs. “Ugh, never mind.” She hops into her truck with a few choice words under her breath and starts the engine.

Milly waves out the window. “See you in a few days, Mr. Wolfwood!”

Wolfwood waves back, staying until the truck is a speck in the distance amongst the mist before heading back inside the ship.

Nothing is going on between him and Vash. He wasn’t lying. Vash latched on to the closet thing in his time of need which Wolfwood is happy enough to provide and soothe the pain. There’s nothing more to it than that. He’s not going to ask for more.

As Wolfwood promised, he heads back to Vash to keep him company. He strolls into the infirmary unannounced, making Vash jump from where he’s sitting. Vash stares at him while he grabs a chair and drags it beside the bed. Wolfwood makes himself comfortable on it, grabbing a blank notepad and pencil on the bedside table.

“You’re staying?” Vash asks.

Wolfwood doodles on the notepad. “Looks like it.”

Vash fiddles with the bedsheet. “You don’t have to.”

“Who’s gonna help you sleep?” Wolfwood hums, looking up.

Vash reddens, pouting. “I’m able to sleep on my own and you know it.”

Wolfwood grins. “Sure you can.” Yes, Vash can sleep alone now that his dreams no longer haunt him at night. Yet, he still comes to visit Wolfwood.

Vash sticks out his tongue at him, crossing his arms.

A lull in the chatter has Wolfwood remembering what happened earlier in the car. “By the way I didn’t know you could purr.”

Vash stills at the comment before blushing—he’s been doing that a lot lately—with tiny feathers peeking through his skin as he recalls a faint memory from earlier. Honestly, he forgot he could purr since it happens rarely, very rarely. Only when he’s absolutely certain he’s safe and comfortable. Even then he doesn’t. He would have to be far gone out of his mind to do it, and he was. Wolfwood being the cause of it makes his brain fuzzy.

“I forgot I could. It doesn’t happen often!” Vash explains nervously, hoping Wolfwood doesn’t question it.

Wolfwood hums, accepting the answer. “I see. Well, I don’t mind it. No need to get your feathers in a twist.”

Vash chews on his lip. He minds it, it’s embarrassing.

Wolfwoods stays with him for the rest of the day, bringing him dinner made by one of the shipmates. He gives Vash some privacy when Jessica visits him, who cries profusely on his lap. Vash is too tired to humour most of Wolfwood’s rambling, his ailment making him noticeably exhausted as the day goes on, eyes threatening to close shut. Luida visits them in the evening, checking up on Vash and providing Wolfwood with spare clothes for the night. She tells him he can sleep in a spare room near Vash.

Changing into comfortable clothes in his temporary room, Wolfwood comes back to see Vash has passed out and quietly makes his way to the chair. Looking closer, Vash’s skin is pink, his breathing laboured with pinched brows. Wolfwood shuffles his chair next to the bed to hold Vash’s hand that’s resting above the sheet, brushing a thumb over his knuckles, hoping it soothes him. Vash’s expression turns lax.

Wolfwood watches Vash until he grows tired, folding his upper body on the bed. He sleeps with his head resting next to their hands.

Morning comes. Wolfwood feels something—someone—touching his head before he is fully awake. Also, his back is aching. Wolfwood opens his eyes to find Vash gazing at him with a smile. He notices his hand is empty, having Vash’s hand in his hair instead, scratching his scalp.

Vash glances at his hunched form. “Your back isn’t gonna like that.”

“I should be hearing a thank you for the company,” Wolfwood yawns.

Vash tugs a lock of his hair in retaliation.

Wolfwood sits up, back cracking in different places. “Ugh, I’m sleeping in the other room. You’re on your own.”

Vash snickers at him.

During their stay, Vash is too sore to move around much, laying in bed for the majority of the time with flushed skin, feathers appearing on his face during heat flashes. Wolfwood brings him food and stays dutifully beside him.

Wolfwood peels the skin of an orange-looking fruit. “What is this anyway? Brad just gave it to me and told me to peel it.”

“It’s an orange!” Vash chirps, taking a slice Wolfwood hands over to him and plopping it into his mouth. “Try one.”

Wolfwood scrunches his nose, examining an orange slice in his hand. “What a unique name.”

“It’s not gonna bite you,” Vash chuckles.

Wolfwood grumbles, putting the slice in his mouth. The citric juice overflows his taste buds. He must have a funny expression on his face judging by Vash’s grin.

“It’s good right?”

Wolfwood shrugs, putting another one in his mouth and giving one to Vash.

The fourth night has Vash visiting Wolfwood in the spare room. Wolfwood wakes up with a startle when a sweltering body slides under the sheets next to him.

“Wolfwood,” Vash rasps with a hint of urgency, shuffling closer to lean his head on his shoulder.

Wolfwood turns on his side, causing Vash to move closer and rest his forehead on his front. Vash radiates heat, making Wolfwood sweat. “You okay?” he whispers.

Vash hums, rubbing his face against Wolfwood’s chest. In the darkness, Wolfwood can’t see them but he feels feathers snake around his arms and waist. The long feathers haven’t appeared since the other day in the courtyard.

Wolfwood rests a hand on his back, concerned about his fever spiking and the pain coming back. “Should I get Luida?”

Vash shakes his head. “Just need you.”

A bad dream perhaps. Wolfwood exhales, slowing his heartbeat. “Okay.” He waits until Vash falls asleep which doesn’t take longer than a few minutes.

Vash is still attached to him by morning but the feathers have disappeared. He takes a moment to realize he’s in a different bed, blinking in surprise and pulling his hands back as if Wolfwood was the one burning him.

“What happened?” Vash squeaks, looking around the room that’s clearly not the infirmary.

“You came here after a bad dream.” Wolfwood assumes he did, judging by Vash's distress and need for comfort last night.

Vash widens his eyes, recalling a glimpse of him walking in the ship halls, searching for someone, someone who could take away the ache in his overheated body. He knew where to find Wolfwood without knowing which room he was staying him, having sensed where he was staying. Vash’s face turns bright red, causing tiny feathers to appear.

“Ah.” Vash stammers. “Sorry about that.” He doesn’t confirm whether he had a bad dream or not.

Sorry? Vash has slept next to him dozens of times, why is this any different? It must be the heat making him anxious. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nothing eventful happens after, besides Vash giving him a look of apprehension for a reason Wolfwood can’t discern. It appears in between conversations before it melts away with a smile as if Vash is hiding something. Wolfwood leaves him be, can’t interrogate a sick person.

By the fifth day, Vash has recovered enough that Luida discharges him from bed rest, looking much better and less pink. He and Wolfwood meet Meryl and Milly at the ship’s ramp, ready to head back to the orphanage. The group waves goodbye to Luida and Brad.

The trip back is filled with the girls chattering about the children and the mischief they’ve been up to, telling Vash he was dearly missed. Wolfwood does a dramatic sigh, voicing I’m not the favourite anymore which has everyone giggling. Vash consoles him with a pat while Milly vehemently says the kids missed him too. The girls and Vash continue gushing over the younglings.

It’s not noticeable to anyone but Wolfwood that Vash is masking something. When Wolfwood peeks at him out of the corner of his eye, Vash’s smile strains when the conversation dies down, eyes looking down. It almost drives him insane by the end of the ride. He continues observing Vash while he greets Miss Melanie and the kids, during the rest of the day, and when he dismisses himself after dinner to head to his room, claiming he’s tired. Maybe Wolfwood is being harsh but he thinks there’s more to it than Vash being just tired.

He grits his teeth; he’s going to find out what it is.

Vash closes the bedroom door behind him. He hides his red face in his hands—no feathers appear thankfully.

He likes Wolfwood. And not in the you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had in my long life.

When Luida told him he was in heat he froze in disbelief. He hadn’t had one in years, likely from always being on the run. His body was never able to settle down. Now that his life has quieted down, the years of not having a heat came back at him with a vengeance. What made it more mortifying was Luida asking if anything changed besides the easier way of life, realizing something then. He fibbed, telling Luida no, nothing else. The truth was, it’s Wolfwood.

He considered Wolfwood his mate, his body betraying him when it latched on to its favourite source of comfort. Wolfwood is a balm to his aches, always by his side in gunfights and now living under the same roof, taking care of chores and children. It’s domestic.

It’s more accurate to say he’s in love with him but he doesn’t want to admit it.

Fanning his red face, Vash unceremoniously changes into his sleepwear and removes his prosthetic. He buries himself under the bedsheet, wrapping an arm around his knees.

Vash isn’t going to breathe a word of this.

Not breathing a word about his feelings is easier than what his actions scream, the pining obvious to those around him. Vash thinks he’s subtle, gazing at Wolfwood in the distance until he catches himself looking for too long and turns away before someone notices.

Someone does notice. He gazes too long at Wolfwood roughhousing with the kids outside, smiling as he stares at the wide grin on Wolfwood’s face. It wouldn’t hurt to rest for a few minutes to observe the scene before him.

Just as Wolfwood is lifting Linda to sit on his shoulders, someone steps outside. Vash doesn’t hear it, nor does he hear them calling his name.

Milly ends up being the first to know his little infatuation. “Mr. Vash?”

Vash startles, flustered at not noticing her presence, distracted from being too busy staring, but he masks it. “Yes?”

Milly pauses, studying him for a moment before turning her head to whatever he was looking at—Wolfwood. She looks back at him in shock, a hand covering her mouth. “Oh!”

Vash blinks, confused at her reaction. He glances at what Milly looked at—Wolfwood again. He flushes, eyes widening. “Uh, what did you need Milly?” He tries to change the unsaid subject. There’s no way Milly knows already.

Milly doesn’t change the subject. “I’m sure Mr. Wolfwood would be so happy to know how you feel!”

“I don’t feel anything!” Vash stutters.

Milly only giggles. “You’re not a convincing liar. You’re secret is safe with me.” She pats his back before she leaves without telling him the reason why she called him.

Not even an hour later Meryl finds out. Both of them are sitting at the kitchen table as Wolfwood and Livio are chatting and making dinner together. A lull in the conversation with Meryl has Vash peeking at Wolfwood—he can’t seem to stop looking at him. He feels holes burning into the side of his head while his own eyes burn the back of Wolfwood’s head. Vash turns to see her deadpan stare.

“Wow, took you long enough,” Meryl says, raising a brow at him as she glances at Wolfwood.

Vash bristles. “What?”

“You’re way too obvious now.”

Vash stiffens. Now? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She gives him a hard look, leaning closer so no one else can hear her. “It means it took you long enough to realize you love him. You looked like you did since you’ve stayed here but now it’s sickening.”

Love.

He can’t be in love with Wolfwood.

Heat rushes to Vash’s face, body tensing in denial. “No, I didn’t! I don’t—” Then he deflates, having nothing to argue back.

Meryl sees the look on his face, expression softening. “Ah, maybe I shouldn’t have used a strong word…”

It’s the correct word.

She rests a hand on his arm. “If you want to talk about it I'm here.”

Vash only manages a smile.

Having someone confirm to him that he’s in love has him terrified. He lies awake at night, thinking he can’t possibly like Wolfwood, he doesn’t deserve anything more, all he does is take nowadays while he has nothing to offer but his scars and decades of self-deprecation. Vash grasps the front of his shirt where his beating heart sits. He needs to get a grip on himself. He doesn’t want to cause any problems for Wolfwood, lest of all this.

Vash doesn’t get a grip on himself. The cause: Wolfwood makes it difficult for him when he’s so kind and sharing the same space doesn’t help Vash’s poor heart.

When he accidentally cuts his finger with a knife from cutting vegetables, Wolfwood is beside him in an instant, holding his wrist as he wipes the blood away and wraps a bandage around his finger. The considerate act has Vash blushing furiously, his body letting Wolfwood do whatever he pleases. Wolfwood tells him to be more careful, and Vash can only respond with a nod, not trusting his voice to say anything more than a squeak.

Days later, after roughhousing with Luke, Jonathan, and Cactus, Vash lays on the ground covered in dirt while the kids run inside. He’s content with gathering his energy under the twin suns, soaking in the heat with his eyes closed.

Wolfwood comes outside to find him, hands on his hips with a look of amusement on his face. “Planning on staying out here all day?”

Vash sits up. “I’ll be inside in a minute.” He looks down at himself, inspecting his dusty clothes. His cardigan is absent to avoid it getting dirty.

Wolfwood squats next to him. “You’re filthy.”

Before Vash shakes his clothes to rid them of dirt, he gasps at the touch on his head as Wolfwood brushes his hair with his hands, tasking himself with cleaning him. Wolfwood does the same with his clothes, brushing the debris off of his arms, pants, and shirt. The touch leaves goosebumps on Vash’s skin as he stays still for Wolfwood to finish his job, face red and holding his breath.

Deeming Vash cleaned enough, Wolfwood stands, pointing with a thumb at the door behind him. “Go take a shower.”

Vash decides to take a cold shower to cool down the heat of Wolfwood’s touch.

While hanging up the laundry outside with Wolfwood, a gust of wind hits him while hanging up a bedsheet. Losing his grip, the sheet falls over his head, embarrassment settling in as the wind continues to blow the fabric into his face. Wind gone, he grabs the sheet to pull it off but someone beats him to it.

Wolfwood’s grinning face comes into view. “Bested by some wind and a sheet?” he jests.

Vash blinks, distracted by the handsome face in front of him, sunshine hitting Wolfwood at the right angle. The embarrassment of getting a face full of fabric becomes insignificant as his thoughts make him flush. Wolfwood’s proximity and gestures are affecting him more and more.

Vash takes the sheet from Wolfwood, willing away the red on his face. “Thanks,” he stutters.

He’s a lost cause.

He flusters at any moment Wolfwood has his attention on him—his touches, teasing with a hint of fondness, and all-around having his gaze on him. He didn’t notice how much Wolfwood was tactile with him. A hand on his lower back has Vash’s skin blushing from the shoulders down or a pat on the head causes him to hunch his shoulders, embarrassed. Anything from Wolfwood makes Vash fumble, painfully obvious that his heart skips a beat when it didn't before, before his heat, before he understood the gravity of how much Wolfwood affects him.

In Wolfwood’s bed—he still visits—Vash lies awake at night. He stares at Wolfwood’s sleeping face unabashed with no one to witness. He gets brave enough to touch, the back of his hand coming in contact with Wolfwood’s cheek, heart pounding. Pulling his hand away, Vash falls asleep, shrinking away from doing anything more.

Vash is tactile too, wasn’t aware of how much of a habit it was to rest a hand on Wolfwood. He’s self-conscious of it now, keeping track of how much touching is too much so that he doesn’t overdo it, so Wolfwood doesn’t find out.

He’s hopeless, lovesick, and doesn’t know what to do with his emotions. All of his focus is narrowed down to only Wolfwood. He stops sleeping in Wolfwood’s bed until he can get a hold of himself and not spill his emotions all over the place.

To Vash’s horror, Melanie is next to find out about his yearning, giving him a knowing smile when she catches him red in the face after staring at Wolfwood playing with the children. Bless her heart that she doesn't say anything, saving him the embarrassment. With Livio, the only indication Vash gets is a pat on the back to soothe him, having witnessed him fumbling first-hand.

Vash wouldn’t be surprised if some of the kids knew. Maria and John likely know. Linda is catching on, staring intently at him and Wolfwood when they talk. If Luke or Jonathan were any older, he’d never hear the end of it

Wolfwood thankfully doesn’t know, but he knows something is up. There’s only so much Vash can hide from him when he’s acting like a startled blushing mess. Wolfwood thinks he’s hiding something and doesn’t want to make it anyone’s problem but himself, not wanting to be a burden—he’s not that far off the mark.

After waving goodbye to Meryl and Milly, Wolfwood asks him to hang back while everyone else heads inside. Vash attempts to calm his nerves, putting on a smile.

Wolfwood notices his plastered smile. “Everything okay?” He goes for causal, not wanting to spook Vash.

If okay means Vash hasn’t run away since his revelation then he’s doing great. Wolfwood won’t buy the lie though. Vash can’t pretend to be oblivious and ask what he means either, Wolfwood knows him too well for that. Playing dumb sets off alarm bells in Wolfwood’s head, intuition has improved since starting a new life here or maybe he’s attuned to his emotions.

Vash goes for the white lie. “Yeah, just a little tired.” The smile stays on his face but he struggles to maintain eye contact, gaze wavering.

Wolfwood notices he’s uncomfortable, brows furrowing. “Is it the heat thing again?”

Vash blushes. “No! No, I don't think it would happen anytime soon. It's nothing to worry about, I promise.” Only he has to worry about it.

Wolfwood is quiet for a moment. Vash knows he doesn't like his answer judging by the twitch of his mouth, almost turning into a frown. He’s reminded of the promise he made to Wolfwood a while ago, to talk to him when something was troubling him. Vash can’t with this. Wolfwood doesn’t need to know about his feelings.

“Well, you know where to find me.” Wolfwood heads inside, looking a little sullen.

Vash follows inside after a minute, heading straight to his room to cool down. His heart pounds as he rests his back against the door. It’s tempting to tell his feelings to Wolfwood and say it out in the open so he doesn’t have to hide anymore. He feels awful having to turn Wolfwood away when he’s trying to look out for him.

A tiny voice in his head whispers doubts, telling him his feelings won’t be reciprocated, for misinterpreting friendly gestures as something more. He knows Wolfwood cares for him—he does, Wolfwood makes it known every day. But it doesn’t mean he wants to kiss Vash like he does, wants to touch with something more than just good friends. Vash wants more. He doesn’t know how to be selfish, let alone be deserving of it.

He will make his pathetic yearning less conspicuous. A hard thing to do when he gets sympathetic looks whenever Wolfwood’s touches are a tad too much for his wanton nerves, fighting a battle between flinching and melting. He’s also getting looks from Wolfwood himself, ever keeping a watchful eye on him. His white lie didn’t work as expected, only making things worse.

Judging by the way Wolfwood is frowning at him lately, Vash is expecting another confrontation but this time, Wolfwood isn’t going to leave without an answer. Vash prepares for the impending conversation that could either end with him running away or kissing Wolfwood—the former being most likely to happen. He hopes Wolfwood won’t be too mad at him at either possibility.

Wolfwood doesn’t approach him immediately, seemingly waiting for Vash to come to him first as days pass—a waiting game consisting of him fidgeting while Wolfwood scrutinizes him. Vash doesn’t say anything, so Wolfwood corners him again, grabbing him by the wrist which causes his skin to jump while he asks—demands—him to come outside to have a little talk. Vash agrees. Wolfwood doesn’t let go of him until they’re in a secluded spot for privacy, the orphanage providing them shade from the suns.

“I know something is going on. Out with it,” Wolfwood starts.

Vash stiffens. A white lie won’t work anymore. He’ll go with a half-truth. “I’m fine! I'm just dealing with something. It's not a big deal.” He cringes at the vagueness.

Wolfwood briefly considers the answer, then asks, “Did I do something?”

Vash’s throat constricts with emotion. Only that you're too nice, too perceptive of how I'm feeling. He waves his hands. “No!”

Wolfwood crosses his arms. “Then what is it?”

“I…” Vash can’t say it. He can’t. “Can’t tell you.”

Wolfwood glowers. “What? Why not?”

He can’t burden Wolfwood with this, with himself. It gets harder to resist when Wolfwood keeps asking. “I can’t tell you right now. I promise I will when I’m ready.” He goes for appeasement, making promises that leave a sour taste in his mouth knowing he won’t follow through.

Wolfwood doesn’t let up, annoyance overcoming his features. “Am I gonna find you fainting next week and scaring everyone? You said you would let me know if anything was bothering you.”

Vash mind yells at him: don't want to be a burden, don't want to cause anyone trouble. Well he's doing that right now, is he? Getting too nervous, too apparent that he's hiding.

Wolfwood’s annoyance rubs off on him. “I’ll tell you when I think about it more. Now if you’ll excuse me—” He doesn’t want to have this talk, forcibly ending it by moving past Wolfwood.

“No, you won't.”

A hand on Vash's flesh wrist stops him from getting far, making him go rigid, turning on fight or flight mode. He glares down at the hand.

“Stop running away.”

Vash lifts his gaze to glare at Wolfwood. His skin prickles from where Wolfwood is touching him and how much he sees through him. “I’m not,” he grits.

“Then why are you avoiding me? I don’t know what happened after we left the ship but it’s been happening ever since then,” Wolfwood snaps.

Almost caught red-handed, Vash bristles. “I’m not!” He is. “I can take care of myself without you hovering over me all the time like a child!” An ugly part of him tries to save face, going for self-preservation like a hissing cornered animal.

A look of hurt crosses Wolfwood’s before it’s replaced with a scowl. He lets go of his hand. “Fine,” he hisses. “Do whatever you want, just don’t keel over while you’re at it.”

The gnashing part inside Vash sobers up immediately, replaced with guilt. Wolfwood walks off, leaving him alone under the shade. He shivers, feeling cold as guilt claws up his throat—he hurt Wolfwood who was only concerned for him. Remembering to move, he heads inside.

Vash moves around the rest of the day with little awareness. He asks Melanie if she needs help with anything—he desperately needs a distraction. Seeing the look on his face, she tells him the kids’ bedding needs to be replaced. She offhandedly mentions Wolfwood and Livio went on an errand. That’s good, Vash won’t have to see Wolfwood fuming because of him.

He keeps himself busy with the laundry, putting off thinking about the little argument he and Wolfwood had. Once he’s done with that, he retreats to mindlessly tending to the garden. There’s not much to do but he doesn’t think can be around anyone right now.

As the suns descend towards the horizon, Vash goes inside. Wolfwood’s back, judging by his voice he can hear as he makes his way to the kitchen for dinnertime. He doesn’t think he can stomach anything so he excuses himself by claiming he has a stomach ache, ignoring Wolfwood’s gaze as he leaves.

Vash staggers into his room, mind fuzzy now that there’s nothing to avoid the noise in his head. He needs to go somewhere, anywhere. His body has switched to flight mode, the walls suddenly feeling too cramped. He has to get out of here, needing some distance to clear his head—that distance being the entire desert, iles away. No one will see his bleeding heart.

He doesn’t want Wolfwood resenting him in his new life for getting in the way.

Grabbing his long-forgotten duffle bag at the corner of the room, Vash opens the drawers to grab a shirt or two along with pants. He stops at the many options available—when did he get so many clothes? He stuffs various clothes into the bag. Next, he grabs toiletries in the bathroom—gel, toothbrush, soap—getting the bare minimum. He reminds himself to leave a note so no one worries.

He doesn't realize tears are falling.

The last thing he needs is his signature red coat. He turns toward it, hung up on the wall like a trophy. Another flash of red catches his eye on the dresser—the cardigan—and he stops in his tracks. He had forgotten to wear it today.

The cardigan was a gift to him from everyone here, being Wolfwood’s idea.

The reminder has Vash stumbling backwards, letting out a sob and dropping his bag. Maybe he’s overreacting, maybe he should apologize and—

The sound of a knock on the door echoes around him. “Spikey?” It’s Wolfwood.

Vash sucks in a breath, heart jumping. He doesn’t answer, hoping Wolfwood thinks he’s asleep. Please go away. Don’t look at me.

Wolfwood doesn’t leave. “Vash, I know you’re awake.”

Vash curses Wolfwood, for knowing him too well.

“I want to talk about what happened earlier.”

Vash doesn’t want to talk. He clears his voice the best he can, hoping to mask the state of his mind. “I’m really tired. Can we talk tomorrow?” By then he can pull himself together.

Wolfwood is silent on the other side. Then, the doorknob turns. “I’m coming in.”

Vash doesn’t get the chance to hide the bag or the state of his room, the dresser is opened and clothes are scattered on the floor. He’s frozen in place as Wolfwood barges in without waiting for a reply.

The first thing Wolfwood notices is his bag. “What are you doing?”

Vash winces, head down with his back facing him.

Wolfwood comes around to face him, shock shifting to concern. “Are you crying?”

Yeah, he is. Vash internally curses Wolfwood some more, curses him for caring more than he should, curses him for letting him stay here.

Wolfwood places a hand on his shoulder. “Vash, what’s wrong?”

The touch has more tears welling up in his eyes. He sobs; he wants more. "I don't know." He does know.

“Okay,” Wolfwood says simply. His other hand touches Vash’s face, becoming wet from tears.

Vash shuts his eyes, debating whether to move away or melt into his palm. "I should go." I don't want to burden you.

“If that’s what you want I won’t stop you,” Wolfwood murmurs.

Vash doesn’t. He wants to stay. "I don't want to cause trouble." I love you.

“The only trouble you're causing is giving me high blood pressure. Nothing I can't handle.” Wolfwood wipes a tear away with his thumb. It makes Vash let out a wet exhale, leaning forward to rest his head on Wolfwood’s shoulder, hiding his face.

Wolfwood holds the back of his head. “I’ll let up on the nagging. I just don’t like seeing the sad look on your face.”

Vash shudders at the hand in his hair, gripping Wolfwood’s front. Wolfwood feels bad. And his longing gives off a sad look. “Sorry,” he chokes. He doesn’t know what else to say.

Wolfwood hums, carding his fingers through Vash’s hair. With an arm around his waist, Wolfwood brings him closer. Vash’s skin tingles at the contact. He wants more despite the closeness. For now, he tilts his head into Wolfwood’s neck, getting greedy. He’s content with sleeping like this, leaning his weight on Wolfwood, exhausted from his hiding. As if reading his thoughts, Wolfwood guides them to sit on the floor, legs bracketing Vash’s body.

With Wolfwood surrounding him, Vash falls asleep.

Vash is fast asleep in his arms. Wolfwood stays for a moment longer, sliding his hand up and down Vash’s back.

He had wanted to talk to Vash, to apologize, and maybe tell him something he realized as he was cooling off from their quarrel.

Vash refusing to tell him the truth pissed him off. His bad temper got the best of him when Vash said he was fine but he’s not fine. The fake smiles Vash put on gave Wolfwood the itch to fix whatever was bothering him. The itch grew into something fierce as the smile always appeared when Wolfwood was close by as if Vash was hiding something and trying to avoid hurting his feelings, similar to when the kids do something bad—guilty. Vash was guilty of something and Wolfwood wants to know why.

Irritable after Vash refused to tell him, Wolfwood stormed off. Maybe Vash didn’t want to stay anymore and he didn’t have the heart to tell him. Maybe he was annoyed at Wolfwood for hovering over him too much. Was he hovering over him too much? Vash got pensive whenever he was around him. He flinches from touches, not the jumping away kind but he tenses. Vash was also avoiding touching him, hands twitching as if he wanted to but couldn’t. It’s the opposite of when he was dealing with his ‘heat issue’.

Livio instantly noticed his bad mood from the way he marched into the kitchen, looking for a distraction in something that wasn’t a cigarette. He suggested to go into town and stock up on groceries. Wolfwood agreed with a grumble. Livio filled the silence with his chatter while he brooded away.

Walking back to the orphanage from their errand, a pause in Livio’s step had Wolfwood looking at him.

“You have to be patient with him,” Livio suggested. “You know him best after all.”

He does. Behind the Vash the Stampede facade, Vash is someone who has lived a long time and seen what happens to those who get close to him. His fear pushes people away.

Wolfwood’s anger cooled off into dejection as he paced inside his room, thinking maybe Vash does need some space. He wouldn’t be shocked if Vash got cold feet and left unannounced. The last couple of months are a blip in his solitary life. He’s a blip in Vash’s life. It’s selfish to make him stay with him.

He wants to be selfish. He wants to be selfish and keep Vash close. He wants Vash to stay as long as he can—forever—and tell him he has grown attached to his jumpy ass, scared his overbearing affection would make Vash run away.

He wants to love Vash.

If Vash truly wants to leave then he can and Wolfwood will wait for him to come back—or search for him if he takes too long. If he’s being a self-sacrificing idiot again, thinking he’s too much of a bag of scars, then Wolfwood will convince him that he has a place here every time he thinks otherwise.

His feet took him to Vash’s room, needing to apologize and perhaps tell him a selfish request.

He knew something was wrong when Vash told him he didn’t want to talk, his voice betraying his emotions. Wolfwood decided to open the door, taking the risk of pushing Vash further into a corner. He’s greeted with a mess, a half-packed duffel bag, and Vash crying. The possibility of Vash leaving becoming a reality almost scared him. He replaced it with the need to comfort Vash after seeing him in the middle of the room like that, hoping it wouldn’t make him more upset. Vash ended up reciprocating his touch, almost melting, silencing his doubts.

With Vash in his arms, Wolfwood lifts him and brings him to bed, gently laying him down. He removes his prosthetic, placing it on the nightstand, and pulls the blanket out from under him. The blanket is tucked under Vash’s chin. Not wanting to leave just yet, Wolfwood sits on the bed, raising a hand to touch Vash’s cheek with his knuckles. Vash’s face is puffy from crying, eyes swollen and red. He’s peaceful now in his sleep.

Enough indulging, Wolfwood stands and looks around the room. He decides to put away the clothes on the floor, closing the drawers of Vash’s dresser. The light in the bathroom is on so Wolfwood takes a peek, evident that Vash grabbed stuff in his haste, toiletries he decided he didn't need are knocked over. Wolfwood cleans up the sink counter, making it more presentable. Turning off the light, he sees the duffel bag left on the floor next to the bed.

He leaves the bag alone and lets Vash decide what he wants to do.

Wolfwood leaves the room, letting Vash sleep.

The following morning, Wolfwood holds his breath. Business as usual in the kitchen, he helps Livio with breakfast, who senses the tension coming off of him in waves. Wolfwood doesn’t answer the questioning eyebrow directed at him.

Everyone has shown up for breakfast. Everyone except for Vash.

Disappointment starts to set in as he sets the plates on the table. The disappointment is directed at himself for failing Vash.

With his mind busy picturing Vash out in the desert, a voice startles him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning, Vash!” Melanie chirps.

Snapping his head up, Wolfwood sees Vash bright-eyed in the doorway. The kids say their sleep greetings to him as well, none the wiser about what transpired between them. Vash masks his surprise, letting out a quiet good morning himself. He sits at one of the available chairs at the table, tentative as he keeps his gaze down.

A sigh of relief escapes Wolfwood’s mouth—he’s still here. Vash looks up at him then. Wolfwood shoots him a small grin and Vash sends him a hesitant smile of his own.

Things are okay for now. Until he has to plan how to confess to Vash without scaring him off.

Vash thinks he should confess.

Things improve after Wolfwood finds him crying amidst his messy room. Vash lessens the sad look on his face, deciding to learn to live with the love inside him rather than the creeping sadness. It’s easy to love Wolfwood anyway.

Wolfwood gives him space and doesn’t take his flightiness to heart. He’s still causal with his touches, a hand on him here and there, seemingly out of habit. Vash manages not to flinch anymore.

Even as a habit, Wolfwood is too casual with him.

He’s seen the way Wolfwood is with Livio, Meryl, and Milly—having a small spot for all of them. When he thinks about how Wolfwood is with him, it’s different. Instead of just watching Wolfwood, Vash investigates, and the result is, well—

Convincing.

Life at the orphanage has softened Wolfwood’s edges, that much is obvious, and Vash sees it when his smile is directed at him, when he rubs a thumb on his waist, when he’s teaching him how to cook something with an unnecessary gentle hand on his wrist, when he—

Friends don’t normally do this, right?

It gives Vash enough confidence to say something, pushing him to make a big decision to tell Wolfwood his feelings. He owes him some honesty for putting up with his messy behaviour. However, he just needs to figure out when and how.

An opportunity shows itself when Vash finds Wolfwood hanging the laundry outside in the desert suns. Vash observes from the doorway, watching Wolfwood effortlessly go about his task. I can do it right now his mind blares at him. Taking a deep breath, Vash steps outside, striding towards Wolfwood.

Wolfwood notices his presence with a glance while hanging up a sheet, clipping it to the wire. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Vash mimics. He looks at the basket next to Wolfwood, considering helping him but he’s too nervous that he will likely drop clean laundry on the ground.

Wolfwood catches him fidgeting, turning to give him his full attention. “What’s up? Something wrong?”

“No.” Vash plays with his hands, eyes darting down at them. “I have something to tell you.”

“I'm listening.” Wolfwood waits for him to continue.

Vash peeks up at Wolfwood, opening his mouth. Wolfwood blinks at him and Vash's mind chooses that moment to find how soft he looks in loose clothing, the wind blowing mussing them and his hair. Words die in his throat. Oh god. He can’t do this. With his face turning red, he shuts his mouth. What should he say? Maybe he should’ve thought this through more instead of looking like an idiot.

He makes a second attempt, opening his mouth—I like you? I’m in love with you? Do you feel the same?

Vash doesn’t get to say it. His words are drowned out when Wolfwood leans closer, tilts his chin up and kisses him. Vash freezes in disbelief at what’s happening. Wolfwood’s lips are on his.

Wolfwood pulls away before Vash can react, face red. “I—”

Vash grabs the collar of Wolfwood’s shirt and surges forward, pressing his lips hard against Wolfwood’s again. It lacks tact with the way he misses, kissing the corner of Wolfwood’s mouth instead. Wolfwood cups his face and tilts his head to slot their lips better. Vash could cry as he learns that Wolfwood feels the same way.

Vash breaks the kiss, letting out, “Sorry I cut you off.” He fights the urge to hide his red face.

Wolfwood blinks at him before grinning. “I did too so we’re even.”

Wolfwood’s hands are still cupping his face, making his skin tingle. He’s staring at him, which furthers the itch to hide. Vash can only hold eye contact for so long.

“Uhm, does this mean…” Wolfwood’s thumb brushing his cheek has him tilting his head down, breaking eye contact and hiding his face with his fringe. It doesn’t last long when Wolfwood tips his head back up, making Vash shut his eyes. Wolfwood pulls him closer to leave a peck on his cheek, near his mole. Vash lets out a breath that sounds more like a sob. That prompts Wolfwood to leave another one. And another. Vash squeezes his eyes, refusing to cry, but Wolfwood is making it difficult now that he has this, now that they both have this. Some water sneaks out of his eyes regardless of his efforts.

“Crybaby,” Wolfwood utters against his skin.

“Meanie,” Vash croaks.

Wolfwood has mercy on him and stops, giving Vash a break. Vash sends him a wet glare before resting his face on Wolfwood’s shoulder. Wolfwood wraps his arms around him, patting him on the back. A beat of silence passes between them. Vash soaks in the heat of Wolfwood’s body around him while Wolfwood drags a hand up to his hair, rubbing his nape.

“Can I call you Nicholas?” Vash blurts.

Nicholas lets out a huff. “You don’t need to ask.”

They eventually let go to hang up the rest of the laundry. Vash helps him, his face sporting a pink hue the entire time. He sneaks glances at Nicholas who’s also sporting a red face but with nonchalance. Nicholas catches one of his glances and raises a brow at him, fighting off a grin. Vash looks away with his face reddening some more. He’s happy.

They go about the rest of the day as usual, except for the permanent flush and the glances.

At dinner, Nicholas rests a hand on his nape that startles him to nearly choke on his food, muffling a cough while glaring at the culprit. He gets a shit-eating grin in return. It attracts some attention, Melanie asking if he’s okay and Marie handing over some water. Livio though, gives them a squint before his eyes widen. Nicholas pointedly ignores the questioning look so Vash is left to answer with a meek nod.

Before retiring for the night, Nicholas stops him. “Wanna come with?”

Vash doesn’t need to be asked twice. He’d sleep with Nicholas every night. He can do that now. He nods. “I’ll go change.”

In his sleepwear and ready for bed, he pops his head into Nicholas’s room to see him lying in bed reading a book. Vash quietly closes the door and walks over. Nicholas puts the book away when he sees him and lifts the bedsheets. Vash settles under the covers while Nicholas turns off the nightlight, drowning the room in darkness. Nicholas brings him closer with an arm around his middle. They both lay on their sides facing each other.

Vash raises his flesh hand to touch Nicholas’ face. The darkness makes him brave enough to initiate.

He traces his fingers along Nicholas’ cheekbone first, then drags them along the slope of his nose and eyelids, feeling the lashes there while Nicholas lets him indulge. Vash slides his hand down to his jaw, his scruff itching his skin before continuing its journey downwards to rest on his chest, over his beating heart.

Vash presses his face against Nicholas’s cheek with tears welling up in his eyes. “Nicholas,” Vash breathes, saying the name for the first time.

Nicholas hums in response, rubbing his hand along Vash’s back. He plants a kiss on his forehead.

Vash grips the front of Nicholas’s shirt, emotions threatening to spill. “Wolf—Nick, I didn’t get to tell you I love you. You do know that, right?”

“I do.” Nicholas holds his face to kiss him, whispering l love you on his lips.

They stay wrapped in each other, breaths mingling until they fall asleep.

Vash sleeps in Nicholas’ bed every night.

Nothing has changed between them except the extra touches. Nicholas initiates more often than not, unconcerned even in front of others. Melanie finds out not long afterwards when Nicholas doesn’t bother hiding a peck at the corner of his mouth.

When Nicholas kisses him good morning in the kitchen, where the kids see them, Luke lets out a high-pitched ew while Johnathan says, “I told you Nico like-like him!”

Nicholas threatens them with no treats after dinner.

Vash does his best to reciprocate through his bashfulness. He’s only bold at night in the darkness when he closes the gap between their bodies. He tries his best in the daytime but he’s conscious of himself and others. And he’s still jumpy.

When Nicholas’ hand on his back catches him off guard while doing the laundry, he jerks away, nerves tingling from the touch. Vash is about to say sorry—berating himself for being so skittish even while they're together—until he sees the pensive look on Nicholas’ face. The pensiveness soon turns into a smug smile as if he figured something out. Vash bristles.

“I see now.” Nicholas easily sneaks an arm around Vash’s waist, giving him a knowing look. A look Vash gets when Nicholas knows what he's hiding, seeing through him.

“What?” Vash sputters.

Nicholas keeps grinning as he pulls him close enough for their noses to touch, teasing him. Vash reddens some more. He fights the shove his face away.

“All the times you were avoiding me was just you overthinking things, huh,” Nicholas explains.

Vash flushes, looking away but Nicholas fills his entire vision. “I wasn’t.”

Nicholas smiles wider. “So what was it then?” He knows but he wants Vash to say it.

Vash makes a face at Nicholas who’s pretending to be oblivious. He leans down to hide his face in Nicholas’ shoulder. “You’re mean.”

Nicholas laughs, raising a hand to pat Vash on the head, letting him get away from saying it. He holds the embrace until the red on Vash’s skin dies down.

When Meryl and Milly visit the orphanage, it takes one arm around Vash for them to know.

Meryl points at him before pointing at Nicholas. “When did this happen?!”

Nicholas sticks out his tongue, not giving her an answer. Vash ends up saying, “Just recently.”

Milly gets tears in her eyes, hugging both of them. “I’m so happy for both of you! You get my blessing.” She turns to Vash. “Be nice to Miss Melanie. You always want to be on the good side with the in-laws.”

Vash sputters at what she’s implying. It's too early to think about marriage!

Vash would happily marry Nicholas though.

He still flusters at any physical contact but it gets easier. Nicholas makes it easier.

Walking inside after tending the garden for the evening, Vash finds Nicholas sitting on the couch, leaning back with arms draped over the back of the furniture and eyes closed. Sensing his presence, Nicholas peeks at him.

Nicholas pats his leg. “Come here.”

There’s no one around so Vash walks over to sit beside him but is stopped when a hand grabs his waist before he lowers. Vash stumbles as he’s pulled closer, letting out a yelp when he almost loses his balance when his knees knock against Nicholas’ legs. He catches himself with knees bracketing Nicholas' thighs. Vash flushes at the proximity.

Nicholas is not satisfied though, wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer until Vash is flushed against his chest and sitting on him. His face is tucked into Nicholas’ neck.

Vash’s heart races. Nicholas’ own heart races despite causally bringing him as close as possible.

“Nick?”

Nicholas gets comfortable on the couch by sliding down and leaning his head on top of his. “Tired,” is the only explanation he gives.

Vash accepts his fate. With the initial shock dying down, Vash brings his arms around Nicholas’ middle and gets comfortable too, burying his face further into his neck.

Vash thinks he’s doing better until things go further than kissing and hugging.

He doesn’t know who kissed who first but their mouths are on each other. Vash has a hand on Nicholas’ neck as they lick into each other’s mouths. Nicholas has his hands on his waist, thumbs rubbing his sides over his shirt. His touch grounds him enough to keep the anxious thoughts at bay.

Vash ends up on his back while Nicholas hovers over him. Nicholas’ mouth moves down his neck, sucking a mark on his skin. He lifts his shirt to palm over scarred skin, hot hands touching him with gentleness for someone like him, for someone who doesn’t deserve it. Vash lets out a shaky sigh.

He holds onto Nicholas with his hands on his back, struggling to distract himself from his head so he can enjoy the moment.

Nicholas hikes up his shirt further to give the scars on his chest some attention “Pretty,” he whispers over Vash’s sternum.

Vash shuts his eyes, breath picking up. No.

Nicholas doesn’t stop, nor do his thoughts that are getting louder, refuting terms of endearment. Vash never thought his damaged body would be met with reverence. His scars aren’t new to Nicholas, he’s seen him before. They were met with anger or sadness.

Not love.

Vash jerks when Nicholas reaches the waistband of his pants. He wants to enjoy this—he does, he adores Nicholas’ attention—but his mind paralyzes him.

With his mind distracting him, he doesn't realize Nicholas’ hands have left his body, cupping his face instead.

“Vash.”

Vash snaps out of his daze to see Nicholas above with a look of fear on his face.

“Am I hurting you?”

No, Nicholas could never hurt him.

Vash burst into tears, seeing he made Nicholas think that his hands were hurting him while his mind was screaming. “No,” he sobs. He clutches Nicholas to his chest. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—”

He's sorry he ruined the mood, he's sorry for making Nicholas doubt himself, he's sorry that he can't understand someone wanting to touch his body with adoration rather than violence. Vash cries while holding on to Nicholas like a lifeline.

Nicholas lets out a breath he was holding, knowing that he wasn’t hurting Vash but was wrestling with himself. He covers Vash’s body with a hand pulling his shirt back down and the other stays on Vash’s cheek which’s soon becoming drenched with tears. He drapes the sheet over their bodies and brings Vash close to his side. Vash bawls all the while.

Nicholas touches the tip of Vash’s nose with his own. “Vash, angel, there’s nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve paid more attention.”

Vash breath fans his face between hiccups. He whines, shaking his head. “But you—”

Nicholas pets his hair. “But nothing. I don’t want you to push yourself.”

“I want to, I—” Vash wants all of Nicholas, he wants to be closer, he wants to give him everything.

Nicholas wipes the tears away. “There’s no rush.”

No one is chasing them down. There’s no time limit to spend their days together.

Vash relents with a sniffle. “Okay.”

He sulks for days, mood soured from the guilt. Nicholas tries cheering him up with hugs.

Vash has a pout as he’s cutting vegetables for lunch while Livio and Melanie fiddle with the stove. Nicholas startles him by wrapping his arms around him from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“I’m busy,” Vash sighs.

“So am I,” Nicholas retorts. He brings a hand to Vash’s chin and turns his head towards him, seeing the pout. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking like anything.” Vash turns around to focus on chopping.

Nicholas kisses Vash’s temple. “Stop worrying,” he whispers, referring to that night. “I mean it when I say don’t force yourself.”

Vash’s frown deepens. He still feels like shit for making Nicholas think he was hurting him.

Nicholas rests his head back on his shoulder. “You're gonna get gray hairs in your old age if you keep stressing.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Vash mumbles.

Nicholas pinches his cheek, making him whine. “Stop pouting.”

Vash’s sulking goes on for a few more days, passing easily with Nicholas’ help. Vash still feels guilty but Nicholas is right, there’s no rush.

Something changes after a simple night of showering.

Lounging on Nicholas’ bed one night, Vash listens to the other prep to take a shower after a long day. He’s reminded that he needs a shower too after messing around with the kids outside and gardening. There’s likely sand somewhere on his skin.

That’s when he gets an idea, wincing at how silly it is.

Vash sits up just as Nicholas carries towels to the bathroom. “Uhm,” he starts.

Nicholas turns at the sound of his voice.

“Can I shower with you?” Vash cringes at how clingy he sounds.

Nicholas blinks, caught off guard. He recovers quickly. “Sure.”

Vash slides off the bed, taking off his prosthetic and joining him in the bathroom.

Nicholas turns on the shower. “You can get a head start. I’ll grab more towels.”

Nicholas leaves and Vash is left alone with the steam slowly heating the space around him. He first takes off his shirt, letting it fall on the floor by his feet. Next, he takes off his pants and briefs. Shivering without the warmth of his clothes, he steps into the shower stall. Hot water rains down on his front and he breathes a sigh of relief as the cold melts away. Closing his eyes, he tips his head forward, letting the water drench his hair. He stands under the shower until he’s soaked.

Vash opens his eyes and inspects the shower space. He always takes quick showers, even when he doesn’t have to worry about an inn’s water bill—he wants to minimize his water usage when there are others here who should have a bigger share. He doesn’t take the time to look at the tiles on the wall or the rust on the facet.

In his inspection, he realizes the stall is small for two grown men. Vash feels silly for suggesting showering together.

Before Vash has second thoughts, the bathroom door opens, startling him.

“Hope you left some hot water for me,” Nicholas jests. He places the towels on the toilet seat.

Vash gets more than just second thoughts, nerves getting the best of him. They’ve never showered before. They haven’t been naked like this before, only topless. He’s self-conscious now. His body is a mess and different than a man’s—

He jumps when Nicholas opens the stall door and steps inside behind him.

“Haven’t washed up yet?” Nicholas asks.

“Uh, not yet.” Vash flusters briefly before reaching for the shampoo bottle but Nicholas gets it before him.

“I got it.”

Vash stands still, unsure of what to do as the water sprays down on him.

“Step back a bit and tilt your head,” Nicholas instructs.

Vash takes a step back and tilts his head. Warm hands dig into his hair, massaging the soap around his scalp. Vash doesn’t realize how tense he is until his shoulders loosen under Nicholas’ touch. He closes his eyes and enjoys the care, tilting his head where he wants Nicholas to knead. Nicholas chuckles behind him.

“Turn around,” Nicholas says with a tap on his shoulder.

Vash turns around without opening his eyes. Nicholas kisses the corner of his mouth before he guides his head back to rinse the soap from his hair. Vash hums in appreciation when fingers continue to stroke his head. He pouts when they leave once the suds have been rinsed off.

Nicholas gives him another kiss in apology. “Gotta wash your body.

Vash opens his eyes and watches Nicholas grab a bar of soap, lathering it between his hands.

Nicholas glances at him and grins. “You with me?”

Vash huffs, leaning his head on Nicholas’ shoulder as he goes through the motions of lathering his body with soap. Nicholas slides his hand down his back before moving up to rub his shoulders. He continues his task by scrubbing Vash’s chest, making him twitch at being ticklish.

“Need to get your legs.”

Vash leans back to allow Nicholas to bend down and rub the soap all over his legs. Nicholas stands back up to finish the job with lathering his one arm. He lingers when he reaches his hand, rubbing carefully. Vash’s lips tremble.

Nicholas looks up at him. “My turn.”

They switch places once Vash rinsed off the sud. Now Nicholas is under the spray.

Nicholas reaches for the shampoo bottle but Vash gets to it first.

“I want to do it,” Vash tells him.

Nicholas doesn’t protest, tipping his head forward. Vash pours shampoo on Nicholas and gets to work. Nicholas closes his eyes as Vash cards his fingers through his hair, reaching behind his ears and nape. He’s slow without his prosthetic but he doesn’t mind. There’s no hurry.

With Nicholas’s hair full of shampoo, Vash helps tip his head back, rinsing it. Then he lathers Nicholas’ body with the bar of soap, taking the time to feel the ridges of his body under his hand. He wants it imprinted in his mind.

With both of them rinsed and cleaned, Nicholas turns off the facet and steps out of the stall first. Grabbing a towel from the rack, he dries his body quickly before wrapping it around his waist. He grabs another towel and turns towards Vash with it spread open.

Vash steps out and gets engulfed by the towel Nicholas wraps around his body and arm. Nicholas maneuvers him to sit on the toilet, grabbing another towel to drape it over his head and dry his hair. Vash closes his eyes while Nicholas massages his head again. The head rub sends pleasant tingles down his neck, making him drowsy. The massage stops when Nicholas deems him dried enough, using the same towel to dry his own hair. Vash stays put with eyes closed.

Nicholas moves around the bathroom, putting on spare clean clothes left on the counter. He grabs Vash’s clothes and turns towards him, seeing he hasn’t moved from his spot. He ruffles Vash’s already mussed hair. “Falling asleep on me?”

Vash hums, indicating he’s still awake. He tilts his head up to butt against Nicholas’ hand. Nicholas snorts in amusement.

The towel falls when he stands. Nicholas bends down to help him put on briefs and pants while he pulls a shirt on. Both men are clean with fresh clothes on.

Nicholas rests a hand on his back. “Go to sleep. I’ll bring the towels to the laundry room.”

“Okay,” Vash mumbles, muffling a yawn as he heads toward the bed and crawls under the sheets. Laying on his side, he drags the bedsheet up to his chin. His body and the sheets are warm.

Minutes pass as Nicholas gathers the used towels and clothes and brings them to the laundry room. Vash is halfway to falling asleep when he comes back. Kneeling on the bed, Nicholas cards his fingers through Vash’s hair.

The hand on his head has Vash perking up, humming as he stirs half awake. He’s so warm.

Nicholas brushes his fringe. “You’re purring.”

Vash opens his eyes to find Nicholas staring at him. His body is making a sound without his notice. “Yeah,” he slurs. He’s not surprised. Right now he’s the most comfortable he’s ever been.

Nicholas slides under the covers and brings him close with arms around him. Vash presses his face to Nicholas' cheek and nuzzles him. He quickly falls asleep from the warmth of Nicholas all around him.

The warmth turns into something more hereafter.

He looks at Nicholas with more than just fondness, almost curiosity as he eyes him when he catches a glance of bare skin or muscles flexing. When Nicholas' touch lingers, something craves under his skin, wanting more. What burned with nerves before now burns with longing.

He doesn’t indulge in the craving until the opportunity presents itself when he comes out of the bathroom to see Nicholas shirtless on the bed, eyes closed and ready to sleep. Vash removes his prosthetic and climbs on the bed. Sensing him, Nicholas sneaks an arm under Vash to pillow his head and draws him close. Vash looks down and gets a full view of his bare chest.

Vash suddenly takes great interest.

He rests a hand on Nicholas’ left pec where the thumping of his heart lies underneath. Nicholas’ eyes remain closed but goosebumps form around his hand. Vash moves inwards, feeling the soft hair under his hand. He splays his hand, enjoying the softness of the fuzz. Sliding down to Nicholas’ abs, Vash presses down on the muscles there, watching the skin fill past his hand. There’s more hair which has Vash caressing Nicholas’ stomach while he indulges in the texture. He pays no mind to the skin jumping underneath his touches as he plays with the hairs, moving downwards along the happy trail. The pants Nicholas is wearing hang low enough to see the dip of his hips that pulls Vash’s gaze. Vash drags his hand down past the navel, searching for more soft hairs and muscles.

A hand grabs his wrist.

“Are you planning to keep me up all night?”

The gruffness of Nicholas’ voice pulls Vash out of his trance. He looks up at Nicholas’ pink cheeks before looking downward to see a tent in his pants.

“Sorry!” Vash squeaks, pulling his hand away. He got carried away with fondling Nicholas’ chest.

“‘s fine.” Nicholas adjusts his pants, pulling them up. He lies on his back and pulls Vash to his side.

Vash smushes his face into Nicholas’ shoulder. He’s embarrassed from what he did but also from something else. He’s wet.

Something inside Vash lights up after that night, the warmth he feels becoming scalding. He wants. He wants Nicholas. He wants to know how it feels to press his body against his. He wants the kisses pressed on his face and neck to be all over his skin—everywhere. The self-consciousness he felt before has been replaced.

Any downtime during the day has Vash eyeing Nicholas for a new reason. He’s not bold enough to do anything suggestive but that doesn’t stop him from giving himself away days later.

It’s a quiet day when some of the kids have gone on a trip into town with Miss Melanie and the others scurrying around outside. Vash is taking a short doze on the couch when Nicholas wakes him up with a hand in his hair.

“What’re you doing sleepy head?” Nicholas smiles down at him.

“Resting,” Vash yawns.

Nicholas pulls his hand away but he doesn’t move far. He climbs onto the couch to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into his neck.

Vash lets out a strained breath. “W-what are you doing?”

“Resting.”

“You’re heavy,” Vash whines.

Nicholas snorts, breath grazing against his neck. It tickles but his blood rushes down his body, making him squirm. Nicholas notices since he brushes his face and scruff on his skin.

“Ticklish?” Nicholas says with a lit in his voice.

Vash chuckles sheepishly, “Yeah.”

Nicholas continues tickling him, even using his hands to graze his sides.

“Nick, stop,” Vash giggles.

Nicholas stops tickling his sides but doesn’t stop bullying his neck, placing sweet kisses along his skin.

Vash’s giggles turn into pants. He tries his best to control his breathing but Nicholas’ mouth on his neck becomes too much as heat pulls pools between his legs. Vash lets out a wanton moan when Nicholas goes for placing a hard kiss.

Nicholas stops, raising to look at his face with wide eyes.

Vash can only look away in embarrassment. “Too much,” he puffs out. The wetness between his legs mocks him. He can’t believe he got horny from some kisses and tickling.

“Okay, okay.” Nicholas gives him mercy. He flips their positions, letting Vash lay on top of him instead. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Vash murmurs. He shoves his face into Nicholas’ neck.

It takes Vash another few days to do something about his desire.

He’s lying on the bed while Nicholas rummages around the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Nicholas appears with rumpled hair and clothes, looking soft and warm. Vash can’t hold back anymore.

“Nicholas,” Vash breathes, sitting up.

Nicholas turns to him as he sits down on the bed.

“Can you touch me?”

Nicholas’ eyes widen before they soften. He sits back against the headboard and motions at him. “Come here.”

Vash crawls to sit on his lap. He closes his eyes when Nicholas cups his cheek, letting out a sigh.

“What do you want?” Nicholas asks.

Vash opens his eyes to gaze at him. “You.”

Nicholas grins. “You have me.”

Vash pouts at the teasing edge of his tone. He decides to kiss Nicholas hard on the mouth to wipe it away. Nicholas smiles into the kiss before he deepens it, tilting his head and pushing forward. He slides his hands down Vash’s sides to his thighs. Vash wiggles his hips as he grips Nicholas’s shirt.

Nicholas breaks the kiss. “Good?”

Vash whines. “Yes, just—” He tugs Nicholas’ shirt up. “Off.”

Nicholas laughs as he talks off his shirt. Vash is about to complain about being teased but Nicholas latches onto his mouth again, licking between his lips to slide his tongue inside his mouth.

Vash hands move across Nicholas’ chest to touch the fuzz there. Nicholas huffs a laugh into his mouth, seeing as Vash is enjoying himself.

Nicholas’ hands do the same as they move up to skim under his shirt, mapping his chest and abdomen. Vash breaks the kiss to gasp when fingers brush his right tit.

Nicholas hones in on his reaction. “Oh?”

Vash’s face blossoms. “Uh, sensitive.”

Nicholas' eyes glint with that information. He moves his hands down to the hem of Vash’s shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah,” Vash rasps.

The shirt comes off and the scars on his body are visible under Nicholas’ gaze. Before Vash can fidget with nerves, Nicholas kisses his shoulder over scarred skin. Vash breath stutters with emotion. It doesn't last as Nicholas moves inwards to kiss along his collarbone and neck. He works a bruise into his skin while he palms his breast. Vash arches into his touch, wanting more. He digs his nails into Nicholas’ back.

Nicholas takes his sweet time making marks up his neck. Vash's hips twitch with impatience as his pants grow wet from his arousal.

Vash tugs the hair on Nicholas’ nape. “Stop teasing me,” he whines.

Nicholas’ hum vibrates against his skin. “This isn’t teasing, it's appreciating.” He rebuttals with a nip to Vash’s jaw.

The small bite leaves a pleasure-pain behind that sends tingles down Vash’s body, making hips jerk forward. His clothed cunt brushes against the tent in Nicholas’ pants. It pushes a grunt out of Nicholas, and Vash—

Vash wants.

“Nick,” Vash hiccups. He grinds his throbbing cunt down on Nicholas. “Please.”

Nicholas grips his waist. “Okay sweetheart, I hear you.” He taps Vash’s leg to get him to sit up so he can remove the rest of his clothes. Pants and pants gone, Vash sits naked in front of him, trembling while his cunt drips from his teasing. Vash’s face is hidden in his neck. Nicholas takes a chance by touching Vash’s clit with a thumb. Vash’s reaction is immediate, whining and rocking his cunt against his hand.

Nicholas pats Vash on the head. “Angel, relax.”

He is relaxed. It’s Nicholas teasing and pet names making him not relax. His nerves aren’t helping though. “I am,” Vash grits.

Nicholas hums as he drags a hand down his back before it holds his waist. “I’ll take care of it.”

Vash doesn’t know what it is until Nicholas purposely thumbs his clit. Vash gasps, throwing his head back as he grinds down on Nicholas’ hand. Two fingers stroke his slit which has him spreading his legs wider, slick wetting Nicholas’ hand. A finger dips inside his cunt and Vash clenches hard around it. His cunt throbs for something more but he’s getting close to the edge already.

Growing frustrated, Vash grips Nicholas’ hair and tugs his head back to punch a kiss to his mouth. “Fuck me,” Vash whispers against his lips.

Nicholas’ grip on his waist is bruising as he stares at him with blown pupils. He’s restraining himself. “Relax first and then I’ll give you what you want,” he says, massaging his clit faster.

Vash’s complaint is cut off by a moan. More slick drips out of him, falling on Nicholas’s pants. A second finger slips into his cunt and Vash’s eyes water as the thick fingers pet his walls. They fill him up nicely too.

“Nick,” Vash whimpers, “I can’t—”

Nicholas noses his cheek. “Come for me.”

Vash thrusts faster to chase his pleasure. He shouts when he comes over to Nicholas’ hand, keeling over as he zones out from the force of the orgasm racking through his body. Nicholas pets his cunt until he’s spent.

Vash regains awareness from Nicholas stroking his sides and nuzzling his neck. He’s lying back on the bed now.

Sensing he’s back, Nicholas pulls back to look at him with a smile. “Good?”

Vash blinks at him. His thoughts have slowed down, replaced with an overwhelming sense of fondness that erupts in his heart. He wraps his arms around Nicholas to bring him closer and peppers his face with kisses.

“Yes,” he sighs out. Vash looks down at their bodies to see Nicholas has removed the rest of his clothes, cock hard between his legs. Vash’s body throbs with want.

He cups Nicholas’ cheeks to graze his lips against his. “Want you.”

Nicholas pecks him. “Okay.” He slides his hands down to Vash’s thighs, squeezing them as he decides how to go about giving what Vash wants.

Vash notices Nicholas is hiding his anxiousness so he helps him out by gathering the leftover slick on his cunt with his flesh hand and coats Nicholas’ cock with it. Nicholas chokes on a moan, doubling over to huff into his neck. He jerks his hips while Vash stokes him and gets a feel of his girth.

Vash spreads his legs and guides him to his entrance. “Nick.”

Nicholas grunts, “I got it.”

He bats Vash’s hand away and lines up, gliding the head of his cock past his folds. Vash gasps and trembles from the stretch. He grips Nicholas’ hair.

Nicholas breathes against his cheek. “You okay?”

“Yes, just—keep going.”

As Nicholas inches further inside, Vash does his best to relax for both their sakes. He eventually bottoms out and Vash can't stop squirming, clenching around his cock. He's got what he wanted—full of Nicholas.

“Nick,” Vash hiccups.

Nicholas tightens his grip on his legs in response, staying still to give him time to adjust in contrast to Vash who can’t stop moving. The feeling of fullness makes him too heady, walls flutter around Nicholas’ cock. Vash can’t stop the unexpected orgasm that hits him for the second time. He comes with a whimper, slick making a mess between their legs.

“Sorry,” he gasps. Nicholas hasn’t even moved yet.

“S’all good,” Nicholas says, voice strained. He knocks their foreheads together with a grin. “Can’t complain about making you come with just my dick inside you.”

Vash groans, embarrassed and aware of the throbbing cock inside him. He wraps his legs around Nicholas. “Just move,” he grits. Coming twice has relaxed him enough so his cunt isn’t gripping tight around Nicholas.

Nicholas kisses him on the nose. “Sure thing, angel.”

Vash groans again, the sweet pet name going straight to his groin.

Nicholas pulls out with just the cockhead inside before pushing back in. Both men moan. He starts a slow pace, thrusting his cock into his cunt. Vash closes his eyes as Nicholas puts his lips on his neck, making more marks on his skin while fucking him. He clenches around his cock as it fills him over and over again.

“Nick, you can go faster.” He wants Nicholas to take him.

Nicholas bites him between the neck and shoulder which makes Vash shudder, rolling his hips faster. He reaches up to grip Vash’s chin to bite him on the lips before licking inside his mouth. Vash can only keep his mouth open for him, tongue useless as sounds spill past his throat. The hand on his chin moves down to cup his breast, palming the soft tissue. Vash aches at the touch.

“So pretty,” Nicholas growls into his mouth, the grip on his thigh bruising as he snaps his hips.

Vash whines, heat pooling in his cunt again. Nicholas slides his hand down his body to play with his clit while he fucks him. Vash gapes while bucking against his finger. Nicholas grinds his cock into his cunt, massaging his wall.

“C’mon sweetheart, give me another,” Nicholas murmurs.

“You too,” Vash keens. “Inside.”

Nicholas thrusts a few more times before he comes with a groan. His come filling him sends Vash over the edge, spilling more slick between their bodies. Nicholas rubs his clit until he squirms in oversensitivity.

They wrap their arms around each other as they come down from their high. Nicholas has his face buried into Vash’s neck, brushing his lips over the bite marks. Vash pets his hair. He whines when Nicholas starts to move, tightening his arms.

Nicholas huffs. “Somebody has to clean up the mess.”

Vash makes a pout but releases him. He grimaces when Nicholas pulls his cock out, come dripping out of his cunt. Nicholas quickly leaves to grab a towel in the bathroom, wiping their combined mess. Vash’s face heats up when Nicholas gently cleans between his folds. Nicholas then wipes himself and discards the towel back into the bathroom. He comes back to bed, wordlessly removing Vash’s prosthetic before laying down and wrapping his arms around him to bring him closer, pulling him to lie on top of him. Vash happily buries his face into his neck. Sleep pulls his eyes close.

Nicholas scratches the back of Vash’s head. “Sleeping already? What about my cuddles?”

“Mm, you can still do that.” Vash noses along the column of Nicholas’ neck. Shivering at the hand in his hair, he begins to purr.

Nicholas chuckles, giving him one last squeeze around his waist and kissing his head before pulling the sheets over their bodies. They fall asleep to the sound of their shared breathing.

In the morning, Vash sees the dire state of his neck with marks all over. He ends up hiding the love bites for a week. Nicholas gives him a smug look whenever Vash glares at him for it. The next time they fuck, Nicholas appeases him with bites lower on his body. His favourite place is his thighs. Vash can’t complain when that’s his favourite too.

The alone time they get is at night when they aren’t too tired from the day’s work and one of them gets too handsy.

Tonight, Vash is being handsy, skimming his hands across Nicholas’ bare chest, just as he appreciated before. This time, Vash notices the bulge in Nicholas’ pants. Vash ignores the slight throb in his cunt and lowers his hand to palm Nicholas’s cock. Nicholas’ breath hitches.

“Can I?” Vash asks.

“Whatever you want angel.”

Vash pushes Nicholas to lie on his back and sits between his legs. He lowers his pants to pull out his cock, nearly filled out. It takes Vash a few strokes of his hand to get him fully hard, spreading the precome over the cockhead and down the shaft to make the slide easier.

Nicholas jerks into his palm. “Fuck,” he sighs out.

Vash lowers his head to lick along Nicholas’ shaft, tasting him. He looks up to watch Nicholas shudder. Holding the base of his cock, Vash puts his mouth around the head. Nicholas’ hand holds the back of his head. Vash shivers when Nicholas’ grip tightens as he hollows his cheek, sinking further down, cupping whatever he can’t reach. Nicholas can’t stop the small thrusts of his hips as Vash hands lower to massage his balls.

Vash pulls off, leaving drool behind. He drops a kiss on the cockhead before lapping and sucking on it.

“Vash, angel,” Nicholas moans, head thrown back.

The sound of his voice has Vash clenching around nothing. He replaces his mouth with a hand, stroking Nicholas’ cock to get him off faster. His cunt begs for attention so Vash shoves his prosthetic hand down his pants, thumbing his clit and inserting a finger into his cunt. He moans above Nicholas’ cock as fucks himself. Nicholas’ growl has him looking up to meet his heated gaze. Thumbing his cockhead, Nicholas arches, groaning as he comes over his hand and stomach.

Vash lets go of him to let him recover. He stares at the come on his finger. Removing his prosthetic hand from his cunt, he replaces it with his flesh hand dirtied with Nicholas’ seed. He thrusts two fingers inside and sets a fast pace, close to finishing.

A growl is heard as Nicholas moves. He grabs his wrist to remove his fingers, making Vash whine high as the pleasure stops abruptly. Nicholas manhandles him to flip their positions. A hand grabs both of Vash’s wrists and pins them above his head. Vash gasps when Nicholas strokes his slit.

Nicholas looms over him before leaning down to bite his neck. “Your turn.” He gathers slick on his fingers and slides two inside his wet cunt. Vash moans at the stretch, bucking his hips.

“Another,” Vash rasps.

Nicholas obliges and adds a third finger. His thumb circles his clit, making Vash’s walls spasm around the digits. Nicholas leaves marks over his collarbone.

“I’m close, I’m—”

Nicholas fucks him faster at the same time he leaves a hard bite on his skin. Vash cries out and comes, spurting out slick on Nicholas’ hand and the sheets. Nicholas pulls out and lessens the grip on his wrists, lifting his flesh hand to drop a kiss.

Vash huffs as he catches his breath. “You didn’t have to do that. I was close.”

Nicholas pinches his cheek. “Of course I do. Gotta take care of my angel after he blesses me.”

Vash makes a face. It doesn’t stay long after Nicholas kisses it away.

They’re both happy living their days like these, doting on each other and taking care of the kids at the orphanage, getting accustomed to this life.

Vash forgets his heat will be a regular occurrence in this life too.

He’s unusually sluggish, easily tiring from chores whereas before he still had lots of energy. Nicholas of course notices, telling him to go rest but Vash complains back that he can do it. Vash is also constantly burying himself in Nicholas’ neck. After a night of dinner, Vash is almost falling asleep at the table and Nicholas has to tell him to go to bed before he hurts himself.

When Nicholas enters their room later, Vash is sound asleep. Nicholas indulges in ruffling his hair before sliding down to his nape. He notices Vash’s skin is running hot. Huh.

He climbs on the bed and scoops Vash into his arms. Sure enough, his entire body is hot. Heat, maybe? He’ll ask Vash later when he wakes up.

Vash wakes up early in the morning with his body scalding. The oppressive weight of the heat makes him gasp, writhing from discomfort. He shifts and that's when he notices his cunt is throbbing. Fuck. His heat is back.

His shirt makes him itchy from the pin feathers on his skin so he discards it and tosses it to the floor. He turns on his side and shoves two fingers inside his cunt, trying to curb the pain a bit. It’s not enough, it’s not Nicholas his mind yells.

Vash turns to look at Nicholas who’s sleeping away, unaware of his problem. He gazes down his arm where his hand lies underneath the bedsheet. He shuffles closer. His want drives him to pull his fingers out of his cunt to grab Nicholas’ wrist, dragging his hand closer. Vash angles Nicholas’ fingers and squeezes two past his entrance, groaning as his walls flutter around them.

Now his mind tells him it’s not Nicholas’ cock.

Vash doesn’t want to disturb Nicholas’ sleep but the ache in his body and cunt won’t be satisfied without getting what they need. Taking the fingers out of him and removing his pants, Vash pulls the sheets off Nicholas’ body and straddles his thighs. He slides Nicholas’ pants and briefs down to reveal his soft cock. His cunt drips with want.

Vash strokes Nicholas’ cock until it’s half-mass. Then, he shimmies his body forward to rub his slit against him, wetting his shaft. He bites his lip as the head of Nicholas’ cock catches his entrance, growing thicker from his teasing.

With Nicholas hard enough, Vash spread his legs, angling his hips to get the cockhead past his hole. His cunt stretches around the shaft as he slowly sinks, whimpering when he bottoms out. The cock filling him leaves him heady.

Vash looks at Nicholas when he mumbles something. He stays fast asleep.

With Nicholas’ cock nestled inside of him, lays on top of him, burying his face into his neck. Vash dozes off.

When he awakens, hands stroke his sides and back, ruffling the feathers there. His body still runs hot. He rubs his face into Nicholas’ neck, purring softly.

“Angel?”

Vash answers with a trill.

“Heat?”

He nods.

“Do you need me to do anything? Should we go see Luida?”

Vash hums, shaking his head. He doesn’t need anything except Nicholas.

Nicholas continues petting his sides, sliding to scratch the back of his head, making him whir louder. When Vash shifts to get more comfortable, Nicholas sucks in a breath. His cock is still inside him.

Nicholas slides a hand between their bodies. “Need me to take care of you?”

Vash noses his jaw. “Please.”

Nicholas finds his clit and strokes it. Vash lets out a content sigh, grinding on Nicholas’ hand and cock. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his peak, his heat making it easy for him to let go. His cunt pulses as he comes with a moan, slick gushing out of him.

Nicholas flips their positions with an arm around his back once Vash stops trembling. Vash needs to rest, he can take care of himself later. When he’s halfway pulling out his cock, Vash lets out a sob, making him freeze.

Vash wraps his legs and arm around Nicholas. “You too,” he whines. “Fuck me.” He makes a point by thrusting Nicholas’s cock back inside his cunt, looking at him with blown pupils and tears in his eyes.

Nicholas strokes the feathers on his cheek and thigh to soothe him. “Okay, I got you.” He pecks him on the lips before leaning back. Nicholas holds his waist and begins to roll his hips.

Vash immediately fusses under him, squeezing his legs around him. “Harder,” he grouses.

Nicholas moves faster, sliding a hand between them to stroke Vash’s clit. Vash pants under him as he quickly approaches the edge again. It takes a few more thrusts for him to spill over with a keen, more slick gushing out of him. Vash squeezing around his cock has Nicholas coming inside him soon after. When he recoups, he feels Vash's purrs vibrating against him, feathers swaying as he rumbles.

“Thank you,” Vash’s voice wobbles, ready to pass out.

Nicholas cards his fingers through his hair with a small small. “Go to sleep.”

Vash passes out before Nicholas gets to pull out.

This heat isn't as bad as the last one. Vash sleeps for the majority of it bundled in sheets, constantly groggy when he’s awake and only putting up a fuss when the built-up arousal gets too much. Nothing Nicholas can’t handle with the tools at his disposal.

Nicholas spends the better part of his week close to Vash, only leaving to help with short errands and to eat and his brooding lover. Miss Melanie makes soup specially made for him. The kids miss Vash, wanting to see him, but Nicholas explains to them that he needs rest.

Another morning has Vash waking him up with a tug on his shirt.

“Nick,” Vash mumbles, resting his head on Nicholas’ chest.

Nicholas knows what he needs and sinks a hand inside Vash’s underwear. “Let me help you, darling.”

Nicholas makes quick work opening Vash up with his fingers, rubbing his clit with his palm as he sluggishly grinds his digits into his cunt. Vash jerks into his hand while making small moans into his neck. It doesn’t take long for him to come, drenching his hand and underwear.

“Thank you,” Vash rumbles. He can rest easy now.

Silence has Vash looking at Nicholas who has a thoughtful look on his face. Vash is about to ask what he’s thinking about but Nicholas beats him to it.

“Let me try something,” Nicholas says.

Vash furrows his eyebrows in question but then hands grab his ass, removing his wet underwear and dragging him up the bed. “What are you doing?!” he yelps

Nicholas doesn’t answer as he continues dragging his body up until he’s kneeling above him. Vash realizes what Nicholas wants when he is pulled to have his lower body close to his face, cunt on display. He looks down at Nicholas who’s lying back on the pillow with a hungry look. Vash flushes at the position.

“Nick, It’s okay. You already took care of it and I’m tired,” Vash whines. His cunt throbs in betrayal though, dripping in anticipation. Nicholas notices it too since he grins.

“C’mon sweetheart,” Nicholas coos, “Sit down.”

Vash squirms at the pet name. It also goes straight to his cunt, making him heady. He tries to clear his mind. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Don’t care,” Nicholas argues back.

Vash still doesn’t move, arguing with himself about whether to do what Nicholas wants. He ends up taking too long since Nicholas drags his body down, pressing his cunt to his face. Vash gasps when Nicholas kisses his clit before sucking on it. He grips the headboard as his hips jerk to chase the pleasure, brushing his cunt on Nicholas and wetting his face.

“That’s it,” Nicholas murmurs into his hole.

His hot breath makes Vash go a little insane, shaking as he slowly loses self-control. Nicholas’ mouth on him feels too good.

Nicholas spreads his legs wider, moving down to lick along his slit. He leaves kisses that make Vash tremble from the sweet but filthy gesture. With Nicholas’ enthusiasm, Vash is encouraged to rock against his face.

Nicholas pushes his tongue past his lips and laps the slick inside of his cunt. Vash clenches around the wet muscles. Nicholas switches between lavishing him with licks and kisses, making out with his sex.

His clit bumps against Nicholas’ nose, making Vash whimpering. He angles his hips to rub his clit against it. Nicholas hums in appreciation, encouraging him some more. The humming sends vibrations into his cunt that make him writhe.

“Oh god,” Vash pants. Tears collect in his eyes, now grinding his throbbing cunt on Nicholas with no shame. It’s dirty but Vash is too far gone to stop, wanting to come.

His cunt getting smothered has Vash coming, shouting as he spills slick across Nicholas’ face.

The force of the orgasm has Vash weakly holding himself up by the headboard, thighs quivering from exertion. He’s trying hard not to suffocate Nicholas.

The hands on his hips help hold him up. Vash looks down to see the mess he made: Nicholas’ lower face is drenched with his slick and so is his neck and the pillow. He has a wild smile on his face.

“Ah,” Vash says.

“For someone who didn’t want it you sure enjoyed it a lot,” Nicholas says sounding pleased with himself. He helps him lie down since Vash doesn’t trust his body to cooperate right now.

“What about you?” Vash slurs.

“Don’t worry, took care of it.”

Vash looks over to see Nicholas had pulled his cock out of his pants, soft with traces of his come on the head and his abdomen.

Vash pouts but he can’t complain. He doesn’t think he’d be useful from how spent he is when his orgasm left him boneless.

Vash makes grabby hands at Nicholas who laughs.

“I gotta clean myself up.”

Vash pouts some more while Nicholas cleans up in the bathroom. He comes back with a towel to clean the mess between his legs, tossing it back into the bathroom when he’s done. Vash wraps his limbs around him when he climbs back on the bed, and soon dozes off to sleep his heat away while Nicholas holds him.

That escapade takes care of the horny side of his heat. Vash feels much better hours later, less tired and less sore. He thinks he’s been through the worst of it.

Nicholas wakes up again the following morning in alarm when he hears a scared whimper. His heart races, ready for action—just like the old days—but there's no fight to be found. He turns to the source of the noise. Vash.

Vash writhes in his sleep with his back facing him. His feathers have grown more prominent from the distress his dream is causing him.

Nicholas touches his shoulder, turning him around. It burns. “Vash.”

Vash only whimpers louder, curling into a ball towards Nicholas as he cries, wings trembling around him. Nicholas hugs him.

“I'm right here, angel,” he murmurs against Vash’s forehead. He cards his fingers through his hair. Some feathers get caught between them.

Vash wakes up with a sob, pushing away from Nicholas. He whines when Nicholas maintains his hold on him.

Nicholas continues petting his hair to soothe him. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Vash stops thrashing once he realizes where he is, lying in bed with Nicholas. He buries his face into Nicholas’ neck. “Nick,” he sniffles, fast breaths hitting his skin.

Nicholas squeezes his arms around him. “I’m here.”

Vash takes a few minutes to steady his breathing before slackening. Nicholas rubs his nape as he drifts back to sleep.

By morning, Vash’s skin has cooled down and by the following day, his heat is gone.

When Vash leaves the confines of their room and enters the kitchen, he’s tackled by a bunch of kids. Linda gives him a hug around his legs while Jonathan and Luke excitedly tell him about a new game they invented while he was sick. Cactus shows him a new plant he got from town—a rosette succulent—while Gary got a type of aloe. Vash tells them how to take care of each plant.

Miss Melanie greets him with a smile. “Vash! How’re you feeling?.”

Vash smiles sheepishly. “Much better. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Nonsense. Come join us for breakfast.”

Vash sits beside Livio, who passes him pancakes and tells him, “Good to see you’re doing well.”

Nicholas is the last person to sit down on Vash’s other side. He rumples Vash’s already messy hair before he digs into his food.

Vash dreamt of having days like these, a place like this with Nicholas.

He doesn’t have to dream anymore.

Life at the orphanage is normal now that he and Nicholas have accepted everything that comes with it, including each other. Vash can’t complain when he wakes up and falls asleep with the man he loves most. He also loves fawning over the kids—part of the deal of living here but it’s a bonus—and being an extra hand to ease the load off Miss Melanie.

While Nicholas and Livio are in town with the kids, Vash gets put on baby duty. Miss Melanie asked him if he could hold little Monique, apologizing for forcing him to watch over her while she cooked. Monique woke up crying from her nap and needed to be fed, but it was bad timing when there was food on the stove that needed attention. Vash happily took Monique and the baby food into his arms.

He settles on the couch and rocks her in his arms, hoping it soothes her. Her cries become sniffles, calm enough for him to put a bib on her and bring a spoon to her lips. Monique opens her mouth and Vash feeds her. Since he’s been here, Monique has grown big enough to start walking, seeing as she crawls around when she isn’t sleeping or eating. Once Monique leans away from the spoon, Vash puts the baby stuff on the side table. He leans back on the couch and cradles her in his arms. Monique looks up at him with a curious gaze, hand reaching up towards him. Vash lifts his hand and she wraps her small palm around his finger. He coos at how tiny she is.

Vash hears the door open and voices coming from the hallway. He stays focused on Monique, poking her pudgy cheek until someone’s footsteps stop just outside the room. Vash looks up to find Nicholas gazing at him, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. The look is one Vash hasn’t seen before.

“Hope she wasn’t too much trouble,” Nicholas says, sitting beside him.

“No,” Vash responds, “she’s too cute to cause any trouble.”

Nicholas snorts.

Monique reaches out towards Nicholas, so Vash passes her over to him. Nicholas holds her by the waist while she stands on his lap. He sports a soft smile on his face as Monique continues to stretch her arms out to him. Vash understands the look Nicholas gave him just minutes earlier now that he has the same one on his face. Melanie finds them later sporting similar grins while watching Monique.

Sometime after, Melanie comes to them with some news about sleeping arrangements. At first, Vash thinks it has to do with the kids, but she drags both men to follow her to a big room, bigger than their current one—well, bigger than Nicholas’ room that he invaded. This one is furnished with a large bed and furniture.

“This will be your new room!” Melanie announces.

Both he and Nicholas blink.

“Since both of you share a room nowadays, I cleared this old one for you to stay in,” Melanie explains. “It's much better than Nicholas’ current one.”

Vash flushes. It’s no secret that they sleep together but knowing that Melanie knows has him embarrassed regardless. He manages a thank you along with Nicholas who takes it in stride. They move their belongings within two days. Vash is reminded about his ratty red coat, moving it from his unoccupied room to hang it up in the new room. Nicholas sits the Punisher beside it. The bigger bed is great, though most of the time they don’t make use of the space when they’re always wrapped around each other.

The move happens right on time because Vash’s next heat hits him a few days later.

This time, he nests, gathering a bunch of Nicholas’ clothes and blankets to pile them on the bed. He doesn’t notice what he’s doing until Nicholas comes back from an outing while Vash hung back since he was feeling a bit off.

“Looks like a typhoon hit,” Nicholas comments by the doorway.

Sitting in the middle of the pile on the bed, Vash reddens but can’t deny that the room looks like a mess with clothes on the floor and the bed.

Nicholas kisses his cheek before putting a hand on his forehead. “I know why now.”

Vash was feeling slightly warm today, but he shrugged it off as nothing. He sighs knowing he has to deal with his heat.

Nicholas pinches his cheek, which deepens the pout on Vash’s face. “I’ll take care of you.”

The following morning, Vash is in heat. He wakes up wet and throbbing with feathers sprouting across his skin. Climbing on top of Nicholas, he easily slides his cock inside his cunt, waking up the other man in the process. He comes easily after a couple of thrusts before Nicholas tucks him back to sleep.

Vash isn’t shy anymore to take what he wants, grasping Nicholas whenever the heat becomes too much and makes his cunt hurt. Nicholas tries relieving him with his hands or mouth, but Vash whines and refuses, not wanting anything unless he fucks him with his cock. Nicholas doesn’t fight him about it after Vash almost ripped his hair by pulling his mouth off him. Once Nicholas’ cock slides inside, the feistiness fades into bliss.

There are feathers and wings everywhere. Vash uses them to his advantage to cling to Nicholas while being fucked but also while sleeping, curling a tendril around his arm. It becomes hard for Nicholas to leave to get food without disturbing Vash when he wakes up the second he frees himself.

It’s smooth sailing until the last day when Vash craves too much. His refractory period—the need to get fucked—drops from every couple of hours to every hour and poor Nicholas does his best to keep him satisfied. He knows Nicholas is running on self-preservation to keep up, but after being pushed over the edge almost a dozen times and Nicholas denying coming inside him for the third time, it makes Vash incredibly irritable.

Riding on Nicholas’s cock, he does his best to clench tight and roll his hips to get what he wants. It backfires when Nicholas has mastered self-restraint while Vash comes twice from his efforts, making a mess on his lap without getting a mess inside his cunt. Tears of silly frustration fill his eyes which has Nicholas cooing at him. Nicholas pets his feathered sides before grasping his waist, halfway into lifting him off his hard cock until Vash’s teeth flash, feathers bristling.

“No,” Vash hisses, dropping his weight back on Nicholas’ cock. Nicholas chokes and grips his waist to prevent him from tipping over.

“Breed me.”

Nicholas stares at him wide-eyed. Vash rolls his tired hips again, squeezing his swollen walls around Nicholas.

“Breed me,” Vash repeats, whining that pushes closer to begging. “Please fill me up.”

Nicholas curses before he kisses the tears on Vash’s face to soothe him. “Shh sweetheart, lie on your front and I’ll give you what you want, okay?”

Vash bobs his head and slips off to lie on his stomach within seconds. He holds onto the pillow and spreads his legs when Nicholas drags his hands down his back to his ass. Gripping his hips, Nicholas rubs his cock against his cunt before thrusting inside. Vash sighs happily as Nicholas fucks him with purpose, hard and fast.

Nicholas leans down to whisper in his ear. “You want me to come, angel? Fuck you until you get pregnant?” He bites Vash’s nape, making him cry out.

“Yes!” Vash pants. “Please, I want it, I—”

Vash doesn’t believe he can conceive—doesn’t think Nicholas believes it either—but his mind is chanting yes.

Nicholas grinds his cock deep inside and comes, spilling his seed. Cunt full of his come has Vash tipping over the edge and coming with a sob. Nicholas showers his shoulders with kisses while he catches his breath from his high. He moves to pull out but stops when Vash whines, so he stays put, lying on top of him. Vash purrs, knowing that he’s full and reaching the end of his heat.

Vash easily goes back to normalcy once his heat comes and goes. Until it’s gone again.

Vash suddenly stops liking certain foods, repulsed at the smell and taste of eggs and coffee in the morning. Nicholas raises his brow when Vash makes a sour face when he sits beside him with freshly brewed coffee. Vash chalks it up as maybe he’s grown sick of them. Everyone's tastes change, right? He can eat something else and hope he goes nose blind.

It gets worse when a small disagreement about what to cook for dinner has Vash biting back tears. Vash suggested something light, potatoes with some vegetables from the garden while Melanie wanted to cook an omelette since they got a big batch of eggs from town. The thought of eating eggs made him feel sick and the scent of it mixed with onions caused him to cringe. He doesn't object, not wanting to offend her cooking or get in the way of making a separate meal for himself.

Vash ends up eating the omelette anyway, forcing himself to eat most of his portion. He eats more of the side dishes filled with vegetables to make him forget about the food sitting at the bottom of his stomach. It still leaves him sick. This results in him being moody, so he excuses himself early for the day.

When Nicholas finds him lying in bed later, he questions him. “Everything alright?”

Vash has his back turned to him, though he can sense Nicholas’ arms are crossed. “Just my stomach hurts, it'll pass.”

The bed dips as Nicholas rests a knee on it. “Did the omelette bother you?”

Vash’s stomach churns a bit thinking about it. “No, it was good.” It was good, but not good enough for his sudden picky tastes.

Nicholas catches his voice faltering. “Spikey.”

“I'm fine.”

“Vash.”

“I said I'm fine!” He's queasy and tired, wanting to go to sleep and forget what he had for dinner.

A hand on his shoulder has tears welling up in his eyes as Nicholas moves him to get him to lay on his back and face him. Nicholas looks at him in surprise.

Vash feels silly. It's silly to feel upset over food.

“Angel, what's wrong?”

Nicholas saying that in his soft voice makes his eyes water even more.

“My stomach hurts,” Vash mumbles.

Nicholas hums, brushing Vash’s fringe. “Were you sick before eating?”

He wasn't sick, he could've stomach anything else, just not eggs. “No, I wasn’t in the mood to have eggs.”

Nicholas lies next to him. “We could've made something else.”

“Didn't want to bother or offend Melanie.”

Nicholas slides his hand under Vash’s shirt to rub his stomach. “She wouldn’t want you getting sick though.”

“Yeah,” Vash relents.

Nicholas presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Let me know if you don't like something. I can make something else for you.”

Vash turns his head to brush his nose against Nicholas’. “Okay.”

Vash lets Nicholas know when he can’t stomach a particular food. Nicholas relays the information to Miss Melanie who reassures him she can adjust his plate for him and remove the ingredients that give him grief. Some smells can't be avoided though when a particularly bad morning of smelling fried eggs and meat has Vash leaving the kitchen as soon as he enters, laying in bed for a while until the wave of nausea disappears.

He sticks to dried fruits and nuts for breakfast. And some biscuits.

With the food aversions also come bouts of unexplained moodiness and fatigue. Vash pulls through it most of the time, but it leaves him exhausted at the end of the day and even more moody and sweaty. Nicholas tells him to take it easy for a while until whatever this thing is passes.

The thing ends up being much more.

Meryl and Milly are staying over at the orphanage on one of their vacations. Sitting by the table, the girls munch on bits of chocolate, one of the foods that Vash had the misfortune of not liking anymore when the texture and the licorice flavour made his stomach turn. Vash eats cookies instead while Nicholas dries the dishes left from lunch with a towel.

Milly passes the plate of chocolates towards him. “Do you want some, Mr. Vash?”

Vash resists wrinkling his nose. “No, thanks.”

Meryl raises a brow at Vash refusing chocolate. “What, are you sick or something?” she jests.

Vash gives a sheepish smile. “I don’t think so, some things don’t agree with me anymore.”

“Huh,” Meryl says.

Milly hums, thinking.

Vash flushing, feeling the need to explain. “Y'know how taste buds can change! Like how people enjoy vegetables more as they get older!”

Meryl squints at him, unconvinced. “Uh, huh.”

The pondering expression on Milly’s face suddenly turns to triumph. “Mr. Vash.”

Vash looks at her sporting a bright smile.

“Are you pregnant?”

Every nerve in Vash stills.

Meryl gasps, “Milly—”

Glass shattering on the floor interrupts Meryl’s scolding. Nicholas curses a second after.

Vash whips his head to Nicholas who’s picking up the broken glass with his bare hands. He would scold him for being careless, but Vash’s mind has stopped working at the possibility that he could be pregnant. All signs point to it—bouts of nausea, mood swings, and sudden cravings and aversions to foods. The side of Nicholas’ face is visible, obscured by his hair, but it’s enough for Vash to see his skin is flushed bright red. Vash himself reddens, wrapping an arm around his stomach self-consciously.

“I—I don’t think so?” Vash sputters, turning back to Milly. Is it even possible for him? Plant and all?

Milly hums with a finger on her chin. “You’re acting the same way as mom and auntie when they were pregnant.”

Meryl recovers from her shock, jumping in. “Milly, you can’t just ask if someone is pregnant!” she chides.

Milly shrugs as she eats her chocolate. “It doesn’t hurt to check.”

The chatter between Meryl and Milly fades into the background as Vash stares at a speck on the table, thinking.

What if? What if it’s possible to have kids with Nicholas?

Vash glances at Nicholas across the kitchen, back turned as he washes the dishes. He wants to have a child.

Vash excuses himself from the table. He gives the girls a small smile to quell their concerns while trying to hide his anxiousness. In their shared bedroom, Vash stands in the middle of the space, arms wrapped around his middle. He worries about what Nicholas is thinking, having a child, with him. Vash didn’t—doesn’t know if it’s possible. Maybe he should have asked Luida or even Chronica instead of dumping on Nicholas at the prospect of having children.

The door opening has Vash startling. He turns to meet Nicholas’ worried gaze.

“Vash?” Nicholas calls him with a hesitant tone.

Vash bursts into tears.

Nicholas yelps and is in front of him in an instant. He cups his cheek. “Darling, why are you crying?”

“I might be pregnant.” Vash hangs his head, sobbing. “I didn’t know if it was possible for me. I’m sorry.”

Nicholas holds both sides of his face, lifting his head back so he can look into his eyes. “What’re you sorry for?”

Vash stares with water in his eyes. “I should’ve known.”

“It doesn’t matter to me whether you’ve known or not.” Nicholas wipes the tears on his face. “Are you okay with it?”

Vash would love to have kids with Nicholas. “Yes, but you—”

“Vash.” Nicholas’ tone turns serious. “I love you and if it’s possible we can have kids together I’ll be happy to raise them with you.”

Vash grasps the front of Nicholas’ shirt, shaking at the confession. “You’ll…be okay with having a child with me?”

Nicholas kisses him on the forehead. “More than okay.”

New tears well up in Vash’s eyes. He hides his face in Nicholas’ shoulder and sobs. Nicholas wraps his arms around Vash to hug him.

“Let’s go see Luida to see if I am,” Vash mumbles into Nicholas’ shirt.

Nicholas hums in acknowledgement, rubbing Vash’s back. “Okay.”

They set off the next day in Meryl’s truck. When Vash radioed Luida about his discovery and their visit, she was delighted. After Luida does multiple tests, he stays with the others in the waiting room. He fidgets, nervous and leg bouncing. Nicholas rests a hand on the restless leg and massages a thumb to soothe Vash’s nerves. Vash can see Nicholas is nervous too. Meryl and Milly chat to keep the mood light, though both men barely pay attention to the conversation.

The sound of a door sliding has Vash turning. Luida enters the room with a smile on her face.

“Congratulations, you’re expecting.”

Vash eyes water at the news. He gets to have a child with Nicholas.

He sees Nicholas sporting tears in his eyes as well before kissing him.

“I recommend you come here every month to ensure the pregnancy goes well,” Luida explains once they part.

“Will do.” Vash is both excited and nervous about what’s to come now that a baby’s inside him.

After the discovery, the following month is a breeze. The only notable change is still the discomfort caused by his taste buds and sensitive nose. Miss Melanie urges him to rest instead of helping with errands, but he insists he’s okay. He has plenty of energy—for now at least.

One morning, Vash is sleepy more than usual. Nicholas gives a kiss on the head and tells him he’ll grab breakfast for him so he can stay in bed. When Nicholas leaves, Vash curls up on his side and shuts his eyes. It doesn’t last long when he is hit with a wave of dizziness, making his head ring. He groans into the pillow and waits for it to pass. His head feels heavy as something creeps into his consciousness. The dizzy spell disappears just as it has come, leaving behind a weight nudging his mind. The nudging is similar to when a Plant enters his mind.

Vash grips the sheets and lets out a gasp. There’s something else poking his mind, two weights poking his mind, they aren’t things it’s his—

He’s having twins.

Vash cups his mouth to silence his sob. With his hand close to his face, he sees the feathers creeping along his arm.

He’s having twins.

Nicholas chooses that moment to open the door. “What do you feel like having for—” He stops when he sees Vash, hand on his mouth with tears in his eyes and feathers across his arm and face. In an instant, he’s by his side, hovering over him. “Are you feeling sick? Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

Nicholas shifts to slide an arm under him, but Vash shakes his head, making him stop. Vash grabs his shirt with the hand that was covering his face.

“Nick, I’m having twins.”

Nicholas stops breathing. “What,” he wheezes.

Vash slaps his hand up to hold Nicholas’ nape, bringing him closer. “They connected to me.”

Nicholas stares at him. “We’re having twins?”

Vash beams at him. “Yeah.” His next breath is muffled by Nicholas kissing him with a palm over his small bump.

“Can’t wait to meet the little angels,” Nicholas whispers against his lips.

Vash lets out a wet laugh at Nicholas’ use of pet names before capturing his lips. The next time they see Luida she does a test that confirms he is having twins. The confirmation makes both of them emotional.

After the discovery of having twins, Vash’s body takes a hit. Two days after their trip, Vash wakes up from nausea and chills. He lies in bed writhing, waiting for it to pass, but it doesn’t. It gets worse. He slaps a hand on his mouth at the first roll of his stomach and staggers out of bed to hurry towards the bathroom. His knees hit the floor as he doubled over the toilet bowl, coughing his lungs out as saliva pools in his mouth. Only acid comes out of his mouth as he heaves.

His rude awakening has him leaning heavily on the toilet with his only arm, too exhausted from the coughing to move. He feels sweaty and disgusting, and his shirt itches from being plastered to his skin.

“Angel.”

Vash blearily looks up to see Nicholas’ concerned face. He must look awful from the way Nicholas’ frown deepens.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Vash doesn’t move a muscle as Nicholas grabs a towel, dampening it slightly before cleaning the sweat on Vash’s face and neck. Leaving the towel off to the side, Nicholas grabs a cup and fills it with water. He holds it in front of Vash’s lips. Vash sips the water, swishing it in his mouth before spitting it out along with the leftover acidic fluid stuck in his mouth into the toilet bowl. Putting the cup away, Nicholas crouches beside Vash to wrap his arms around his back and under his knees to lift him. Vash presses his head to Nicholas’ neck as he’s brought back to bed.

Nicholas helps remove his sweaty shirt, making him shiver from the lingering sweat on his skin before the bedsheet is pulled over his body. Vash lies unmoving. He still feels the lingering nausea at the back of his throat. Nicholas moves his fringe away from his forehead, dragging his fingers back into his hair as a soothing gesture.

“How're you feeling?” Nicholas murmurs.

Vash swallows the lump in his throat. “Still sick. And hot.”

“I'll grab a cold towel.” Nicholas wets a cloth with cold water in the bathroom and returns to Vash’s side to drape it over his head and eyes. He drops a kiss on his forehead over the towel. “Go back to sleep.”

The coolness of the towel helps marginally. It's enough for him to dampen the nausea enough for him to slip into unconsciousness and sleep a little longer.

He later discovers the itching on his skin is from pin feathers breaking through his skin.

This goes on for weeks. Every other morning, he’s either writhing in bed or hunched over the toilet bowl. Sometimes when he shows up for breakfast, a smell triggers his nausea, and he goes right back to bed, miserable and nauseous. Other times he wakes up overwhelmed with sickness and more feathers spreading across his skin. Every time Nicholas is beside him making sure he’s taken care of.

He's moody, he's exhausted, and he feels pathetic for being miserable and a nuisance, wanting the sickness to be over with. And the feathers to go away.

His thoughts soon rear their ugly head.

Finding himself sick again in the bathroom, Vash fails to ignore the white and long appendages all over his skin. He chokes on a cough at the creeping uneasiness at his unsightly appearance, feeling like a mess and looking like one. Right on cue, footsteps approach him. When Nicholas appears in the bathroom doorway, Vash starts crying. He doesn’t want to be looked at.

Nicholas crouches beside him. “Angel, what's wrong?”

Vash moves away when Nicholas reaches to touch him. It’s only by an inch, but it gets the message across. Nicholas doesn’t say anything as he does the usual task of cleaning him up, giving him water to clean his mouth and dabbing the sweat away. When that’s done, the only thing left is to bring him to bed. Vash moves away again as Nicholas shuffles closer.

“Vash.”

Vash shrinks in on himself at the tone.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

He doesn’t want to, he wants to be alone and wallow in his misery. Vash licks his dry lips. “I want to stay a bit longer.” He doesn’t sound convincing when there are still tears in his eyes and his body trembles in front of Nicholas.

Something clicks in Nicholas’ mind because he reaches over to him and isn’t deterred by Vash leaning away. Vash gasps when Nicholas gets an arm around his back, then lets out a sob when an arm loops behind his knees. Nicholas easily lifts him and returns to bed. He doesn’t leave him alone, wrapping his arms around him and dragging him to his side. Vash tries pushing him away, but he's weak, he's weak to Nicholas’ attempts to console him. So, he cries some more.

Nicholas hauls him on top of his body and settles him on his chest, knowing the proximity helps. Vash fusses some more, but Nicholas keeps him close, hands petting the feathers on his back. Nicholas leaves a kiss on his hair and Vash cries harder.

“We’ll ask Luida to give you something,” Nicholas murmurs.

Vash weeps until he’s exhausted his energy and passes out. Later that day, Nicholas radios Luida about Vash’s nausea, likely caused by the pregnancy. Luida arrives two days later at Hopeland Orphanage with medicine.

After checking up on Vash’s condition, she turns to Nicholas, passing him a bottle and saying, “Make sure he takes one each night.”

So, Vash takes a pill each night. The following morning, he still suffers from nausea, though less than usual, not needing to run to the bathroom. A week passes and Vash wakes up with zero nausea. He turns to Nicholas who’s still asleep beside him. From his relief, he shuffles closer to bury his face into his neck. He purrs. Finally, he can get his much-needed skin contact after many disruptive mornings that left him shrivel from any touch.

Nicholas wakes up a few moments later, carding his fingers through Vash’s hair. “Doing better, angel?”

Vash nods, happy the nausea is taken care of and no longer weighing him down.

He can’t do much about the bouts of sleepiness, but he doesn’t mind it too much when Nicholas offers himself up to be his personal pillow. His afternoon cat naps leave him either hanging off of Nicholas’ lap or shoulder.

Vash is close to nodding off on the couch one evening while the kids are engrossed in a card game. Livio joins the game, holding the most amount of cards, while Melanie does some crochet in a chair nearby. Nicholas sits beside him, carving a block of wood. Despite the sound of chatter and a radio playing in the background, Vash struggles to keep his eyes, too cozy to avoid falling asleep. Nicholas notices his head drooping, so he reaches over to guide his head to rest on his shoulder. Vash snuggles closer and shuts his eyes.

Vash sleeps until everyone is gone, awakening in the same position with his head on Nicholas. Nicholas drops a kiss on his head and drags his fingers through his hair when he stirs. Vash lets out a rumble, leaning into Nicholas’ hand. The radio still plays in the background, now playing a slow song.

Nicholas puts away his carving tools to the side, the wood block now shaped like a bird, and leans down to whisper in Vash’s ear. “Dance with me?”

Vash huffs. “Making me get up?”

“Just for a little bit.”

Nicholas rests a hand on his back as they get up and move to stand in the middle of the room. Vash buries his face into Nicholas’ neck as his flesh hand is clasped in the other’s hand. He drapes his other arm around Nicholas’ shoulders. Nicholas leans his head against his and wraps his arm around his middle, pulling him close. They begin to sway to the tune.

Vash is warm pressed against Nicholas like this, wrapped in each other with his small bump sitting between them. He rubs his face into Nicholas’s skin where his heartbeat lies while purring in the comfort of being surrounded by the person he loves. Nicholas presses his lips to his temple and stays there, a lingering kiss. Vash leans his weight on Nicholas' front who easily supports him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Nicholas murmurs.

Vash yawns. “Hard not to.”

Nicholas sways him for a few more minutes until Vash is almost deadweight in his hold. He bends down to carry Vash and heads to their room, not without turning off the radio. Vash is laid down before Nicholas removes his prosthetic and climbs into bed. He latches on to him and plants his face into his favourite spot. Nicholas slides an arm under him and slips his hand under Vash’s shirt to touch the bare skin on his back. They fall asleep listening to the tune of their heartbeats.

The twin suns shine through the window as Vash wakes up with his face wedged into Nicholas’ shoulder. There’s a hint of drool on the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t care when he’s so comfortable. Nicholas doesn’t seem to care either, having woken up a few minutes prior and gazing at him all the while. His hand brushes the small of Vash’s back, nails grazing his skin that force rumbles out of him. Nicholas’s other hand reaches over to hold Vash’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek.

“Will you marry me?”

Vash’s eyes fly open to stare at him, the question ringing in his head. They quickly fill with water that he tries and fails to blink away. “What,” he croaks.

Nicholas smiles at his shock, expecting it. “Will you marry me, angel?”

Hearing the question again makes Vash’s breath hitch from holding back the intense emotions threatening to spill. “I—are you sure? I mean, that’ll be great, but we don’t have to.”

“You think I’d make you carry our babies without marrying you?” Nicholas raises a brow.

“Well—” Vash looks away, guilty that he didn’t think it mattered too much to do so. “I’m happy just being with you.”

“Then you’ll be even more happy with a ring on your finger.”

Vash turns his gaze back to see Nicholas beaming at him. A ring, huh? He would happily marry Nicholas and have a ring as evidence, a reminder that he’s loved.

Vash holds Nicholas’s jaw with a smile as tears stream down his face. “Yes! Yes, I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”

Nicholas chuckles before leaning down to brush his forehead against his. “Yes.”

Nicholas wipes the tears away with his thumb. There are too many of them so he kisses them away. Vash hiccups before he directs Nicholas’ lips to his mouth, kissing him and accepting the proposal.

They’ll have to get matching rings and plan a wedding, but for now, they share shuddering breaths, excited for what tomorrow will bring.