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Kissing Wolfwood comes with some unique reactions. Vash likes most of them; whether it’s the flustered laughter or sulky blushing. He even likes this one, despite the initial concerns it brings him.
Wolfwood makes a wet noise in his throat and chokes on a sob, nuzzling forward until their noses bump, and Vash freezes. There’s a dampness on his face from the contact and he leans back enough, forehead pressing to Wolfwood’s, so that he can see his face for confirmation.
“You’re crying,” he says it more as fact than a question--because it is, but Wolfwood nods and makes a little “uh-huh” noise. He looks worried for a second before Vash asks, “You want to keep going?”
Wolfwood nods again so suddenly he bonks their foreheads together. He winces and Vash laughs, cupping his teary cheeks in his hands before he leans back in. Wolfwood’s on his knees, legs on either side of Vash’s lap, so the angle is enough to let Wolfwood feel in control–let him pull away if he really didn’t want to be kissing him. But he does, so their mouths press together again eagerly.
Some of Wolfwood's tears drip down Vash's cheeks as he kisses him this time. At first, this is largely easy to ignore. Vash has far more involving matters to focus on; like the soft needy noises he keeps making and how his breath catches every time Vash brushes his thumbs over his cheeks. He's painfully cute. The kind of cute Vash feels guilty for indulging in it if he considers it fully. The kind of cute that begs for more attention than he feels able to give.
But those tears keep coming. It's always a flood once Wolfwood starts, always so much emotion to get out of him it's like his tears are tripping over themselves and balling together as they leave. Today is no different and Vash feels them already dripping here and there leaving his face and shirt damp. This is normal.
What isn't normal is what comes next. In the midst of their ocean flavored kissing (oceans Vash will never see, oceans he still partly longs for), Wolfwood tilts his face to rub it against Vash's. Like he's a cat begging for attention, cheek soft and warm against Vash's. Soft and warm and wet with tears. Tears that drip on Vash's face, catch themselves in his eyelashes when Wolfwood's clumsy affection knocks their eyebrows into each other briefly.
Vash freezes. He feels something old and rusty stir in his chest. His hands are still on Wolfwood's face, he's still getting the most endearingly awkward nuzzling from his poor Wolfwood. His Wolfwood who has no idea he's just loaned Vash his own tears. Like a gift. Like an offering at a long abandoned altar of his feelings.
His chest hurts. Vash presses in so suddenly for another kiss Wolfwood gasps and hiccups. He pulls back just as suddenly, brow furrowed in concern. Worried he startled or upset him.
"Are you sure you’re alright?" Vash asks, lips still hovering near Wolfwood’s. He hopes he knows the answer.
It comes wet and shaky but no less assuring, somehow. "Uh-huh." Vash feels Wolfwood trying to grab at his shirt front, hands fumbling before they get a good grasp on the fabric. "Please…"
He knows Wolfwood is afraid he'll pull away when he's like this. Like Vash won't listen to his requests and push him back. Make him cry himself out before he kisses him again.
Tears drip off Vash's jawline. He can taste them on his lips when he kisses Wolfwood's cheek. Shushes him quietly but his own voice feels like it's rattled when he speaks.
"Just making sure…"
He wants to keep kissing Wolfwood, so badly. But his chest feels tight when he tastes salt on Wolfwood’s skin. Wolfwood presses forward again, needy as ever, and the change in angle drips more tears on Vash’s face. When he pulls back for air, Wolfwood seems to finally notice this and worriedly wipes at them.
He’s wiping tears off Vash’s face. His warm, shaky hands are gently petting at his cheeks. His thumbs worry under Vash’s eyes, like he’s the one that’s been crying, and Vash looks up at him in a mix of awe and confusion.
He’s not sure what this feeling is. It feels nice and horrible all in the same breath.
“Sorry,” Wolfwood whispers, sniffling and still petting at Vash’s face. “I’m–I’m sorry, I…”
Vash’s smile feels wobbly but he tries to power through it. Leans in and kisses Wolfwood again, a quick peck to try and calm his nerves. Delightedly, Wolfwood relaxes and sinks off his knees to sit in Vash's lap instead of trying to keep height on him he doesn’t have. His eyes are so big and wet, searching Vash’s face in a moment of confusion before he rubs his thumbs gently under his eyes again.
Blinking, Vash feels and sees his vision blur. Just a little, just enough, but his eyes sting and Wolfwood is so carefully wiping away tears he didn’t leave on his face.
“Did I do something wrong?” Wolfwood asks, voice hushed. Worried.
Vash has to clear a lump from his throat before he can speak. “No,” he says, voice cracking, then tries again, “No, it’s…”
It’s not okay. Not particularly. Vash isn’t supposed to do this. He’s not allowed. Not able. Not not not–but he is crying, undeniably now. He chokes out a little hint of a sob and Wolfwood pulls him closer. Looks ready to break, looks afraid he’s somehow upset him so Vash sniffles through the worst of it and presses in for another kiss.
Oh, what he wouldn’t do for Wolfwood. Giving Vash’s own sorrow a place to hide without even realizing it. Wrapping him around his fingers without even knowing.
“I want–” Vash whispers, tears properly dripping down his face now as he kisses Wolfwood. “To keep–” And again. “Kissing you.” Please.
Wolfwood makes a little noise but obliges. He could never resist, never wants to. Vash knows it. Knows Wolfwood would do anything for him. Especially knows Wolfwood would kiss him endlessly if asked.
He feels guilty. For having Wolfwood, for crying, for wanting to keep doing both forever. Vash heaves in a shaky breath and finally drags Wolfwood’s head down to cradle against his shoulder. Feels him grab at his shirt, tight fists in a desperate plea to be kept–no matter how guilty it makes Vash feel, to please keep him.
Vash tucks his face down some, tears dripping on Wolfwood’s shoulder, and sniffles. He’ll stop in a moment. He can force it, unlike poor Wolfwood who’s always lost to the emotions for hours once they get their claws in.
“Thank you,” he whispers, already managing to even out his breathing.
Wolfwood let's out a whimpery little laugh. “For making you cry?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Vash replies, reaching up to wipe at his face with his sleeve. He keeps his other hand nestled in Wolfwood’s hair, desperate to keep him there. “Thank you…”
Wolfwood’s told Vash he could do anything to him. He’d let him. Simply allow Vash to hold or crush his heart in an instant. He’d allow it. Let it come. Simply for the pleasure of being close to Vash for the moments around whatever awful or wonderful things he did.
He doesn’t know this seems to have become mutual. Vash isn’t sure when it happened either, but it’s clear. The clarity is almost jarring for him but he just scrubs at his eyes a moment longer before squeezing both arms around Wolfwood’s middle and dropping down to lay on the bed with him.
Let me keep him, he doesn’t know who he’s begging, but he’s begging. Pleading with whatever deity will listen as he wipes the tears on Wolfwood’s hot, damp face and tries to help him pull in deeper breaths. Please, let me keep him.
It’s a big ask, but he can’t remember the last time he wanted something more.