Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Nicholas notices Vash’s physical discomfort, he doesn’t really know what to make of it, mostly because as far as he’s aware nothing’s changed to cause it. He hasn’t been shot at in the last few days, he’s eating a normal amount of food (normal for Vash, at least), he seems to be sleeping a normal amount, and he seems as fine as he can possibly be emotionally, it’s just… he’s fidgety, but somehow also stiff. Nicholas notices he keeps rolling his shoulders back, itching his shoulder blades and the back of his neck, generally just uncomfortable.

“Blondie, ya good?” he asks softly.

They’re in the back of the SUV, in their own little world as always, while Milly and Meryl talk amongst themselves over the low volume of the radio. After he and the girls had finally found Vash post-JuLai, they’d roped him back into sticking with them. The girls would gather material for their articles while the two of them would fulfill low level bounties and stay on the move. Nicholas feels better knowing that he’s with him, where he’s able to protect Vash and care for him after two years of not being there for him. The Vash-shaped hole in his heart has slowly begun to mend now that he’s had him in his space for a couple of months now, and Nicholas is not going to let him go again.

Vash’s head turns to look over at Nicholas, his large peachy shades sliding down the bridge of his nose at the movement. His smile is tight and his eyes look pinched, shoulders tense, but Nicholas still can’t see anything visibly wrong with him. “Yeah, I’m all good. Why?”

Nicholas raises a brow. “Ya look like you’re bein’ stabbed in the back or somethin’.”

“Oh! No, I’m totally fine,” Vash grins. “Just a little sore from sleeping wrong last night.”

Nicholas doesn’t believe it. They’d camped out last night under the stars, and Vash had assumed his usual position on top of the SUV after clearing the equipment off the top and using his duffel bag, balanced up against the perimeter of the carrying rack, as a pillow. And Nicholas had taken his now-normal spot next to him, nudging the spikey idiot over a little to allow him to rest his own head on the bag, too, their bodies tangled together and sharing heat in the chilly desert night. Sure, it’s not the most comfortable spot in the universe, but it’s routine now, and Vash hasn’t been bothered by it before. Nicholas knows their bodies both heal relatively quickly, too, so his reasoning is bullshit.

He decides not to push him on it for now, though. “Whatever ya say, Needles.”

Nicholas doesn’t fully let it go, though, because he hesitantly reaches his hand over and settles it on Vash’s shoulder to test the waters. He feels Vash relax under his hand, and slips it just past his coat to carefully squeeze the nape of his neck. He hears Vash sigh softly and tilt his head forward to give Nicholas better access, and closes his eyes to enjoy the feeling.

Nicholas smiles to himself, and is more than happy to keep his hand there for a while and gently massage Vash's shoulders and neck, especially when he can see Vash visibly relaxing under his fingers. A small surge of pride wells up in his chest that he’s able to make him feel this way. It doesn’t totally stop the blonde from fidgeting, but it seems to calm him down enough to where he’s able to at least lean back on the headrest and let his eyes close. Nicholas chooses to ignore the smirk Meryl throws at him through the rear view mirror.

By the time the sky begins to get dimmer and duskier, they’re approaching a decently sized city and Nicholas doesn’t exactly want to spend money on a hotel tonight, but he has a feeling Vash might be better off in one if he’s hurting. He figures they can get a room and let Vash take over the bed to stretch out as he needs to, and Nicholas can sleep on the floor or something. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last, given their nomadic lifestyle. He just wants Vash to feel better.

“Hey Shorty, let’s stop here tonight,” Nicholas says as they approach the city limits.

“Why?”

“Think Blondie slept weird yesterday and could use a real bed.”

“Hey!” Vash protests weakly, eyes fluttering open slightly as a frown makes itself known on his lips.

“Am I wrong?”

Nicholas dares Vash to tell him what’s going on—he knows he won’t say anything, at least not in front of the girls, and smiles smugly when the blonde deflates and sighs, resting his head against the window with a pout. “A bed would be good.”

“I think that sounds nice,” Milly says. “Mr. Vash, if you’re not feeling well, then a good night’s rest is the first step to getting better!”

Nicholas can’t help but grin at Milly’s sugary sweet agreement. He’s so glad that Meryl took her under her wing and brought her along earlier this year—the two of them had become friends quickly and her bubbly demeanor, despite all the destruction around them, keeps him in higher spirits than he’d be in without her. He knows Vash loves having Milly around, too, and it’s proven by the small smile making its way onto his face.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“This is New Colorado, it’s a bigger city. You might have to just stay in the hotel, Vash. We don’t want you getting recognized,” Meryl points out, a sympathetic frown visible through the rear view mirror.

“That’s alright,” Vash promises quickly with a laugh, holding a hand out like he’s trying to reassure her from afar. “I could use the sleep anyway.”

Now that really lets Nicholas know something’s wrong—he could use the sleep? Vash has only just begun to recover from his self punishing tendencies, temporarily made worse since remembering what happened to JuLai, and Nicholas doesn’t see them getting significantly better any time soon. He figures that when they get checked in and settled he can corner him—Vash usually cracks with a few pointed Looks from Nicholas, he’s sure he’ll find out before they fall asleep for the night.

By the time they arrive in town a little later, Vash had begun to openly fidget again. He hadn’t pushed Nicholas’ hand away from him, but Nicholas had removed his hand of his own volition because Vash wouldn’t stop adjusting his shoulders or trying to stretch his back. He doesn’t even bother to ask what’s going on again, he just leaves Vash to be uncomfortable in silence because he knows he won’t get anything else out of him until they’re alone, as frustrating as it is.

Vash presses a leather wallet into Nicholas’ hand as they park in front of a two story hotel in a quieter looking part of town, and then Nicholas is following the girls inside the building to purchase their rooms for the night. Meryl and Milly get their own, and Nicholas is left to spend his and Vash’s combined money on a room of their own. They head back out to the SUV to get their stuff, and Vash climbs out of the car as Nicholas is hauling the Punisher over his shoulder. The blonde stretches, reaches back to try and scratch at his shoulder blades again, then grabs his bag to follow Nicholas around the back of the building to the rear entrance in an attempt to keep Vash from being noticed.

They successfully make it into their room without detection, and Vash flops face forward onto the single king sized bed. Nicholas hears a loud groan from him as he settles his own stuff down near the bathroom, and snorts to himself.

“You feel like riskin’ goin’ out or do ya want me to just grab ya somethin’ to-go?” Nicholas asks, stretching his back a little.

“Uh, something to-go would be great, actually,” Vash agrees, rolling over so he’s laying on his back. His face pinches, however, and he sits upright swiftly.

Nicholas raises a brow. “Yeah, then you can take a hot shower and work out whatever the hell seems to be wrong before I get back.”

The blonde laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head with his prosthetic hand. “I swear I’m just sore, that’s all.”

“I still don’t believe ya, Blondie,” Nicholas tells him, stripping off his jacket. “I’m gonna take one before I go out, though. Bigger city means clean hot water.”

Vash grins at that. “Yeah, I am looking forward to that, for sure.”

Nicholas smiles back at him, then goes to dig through his bag for everything he’ll need, including a change of clothes so he can throw his current set into the wash before he goes to sleep. His shower is quick and hot, but most of all he feels instantly better once he’s dried off and dressed. In the ten minutes he was under the scalding water, Vash hadn’t really moved much, only having taken off his red SEEDS jacket, turtleneck, and his boots and taken a new position on the bed with a tiny screwdriver to mess with the elbow joint of his prosthetic. The thick metal grate over his chest and various patches of scarred skin are on display, and they make Nicholas ache in a way he still can’t describe, despite having seen them dozens of times now.

“Would Brad be pissed if he could see ya fuckin’ with his masterpiece right now?” Nicholas asks with a grin as he buttons up a clean gray shirt.

Vash looks over and blushes at Nicholas’ half exposed chest, then seems to curl into himself a bit. Nicholas isn’t having any of it though, making his way over to the blonde to kiss the top of his stupid spiky head. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Needle Noggin. We’ve been over this.”

Vash looks up at him, blue eyes watery and big, and he nods before leaning to rest his head against the dip in Nicholas’ ribs. He reaches a hand up to smooth through Vash’s wildly fluffy blonde mop, fingertips scraping against his undercut, and he just wants to hold Vash like this forever.

It’s strange, him and Vash. Nicholas has never been in a relationship or really had feelings for anyone before meeting Vash, and even with Vash he isn’t sure he’d count these as romantic feelings, partially because he doesn’t know what those might feel like. All he knows is that he feels comfortable with Vash in a way he’s never found with anyone else, and he thinks he can confidently say that Vash feels the same about him. Their first night together after Nicholas had found Vash, they’d stayed in a cheap hotel. Nicholas had been laying in his own bed for a while, ready to fall asleep, when he felt a half naked Vash climb in next to him and shimmy his way under the covers. The blonde had wrapped himself around Nicholas and quietly cried for hours, and all he’d been able to do in return was wrap his arms around his broad shoulders and hold him until well after the tears had dried up. Nicholas had kissed him softly, messily, tasting the salt from Vash’s tears on his lips and feeling a sigh escape his throat when Vash’s fangs had gently sliced his lower lip open. His own blood mingling with the taste of just Vash in his mouth changed him permanently, and the soft groan that left Vash’s mouth cemented his newly discovered feelings into place.

Something changed after that. Sharing where they slept became normal. Holding each other and kissing on occasion became normal, and despite never doing it in front of anyone else Nicholas knows that Meryl knows somehow. Other little things that began to twine them together further became normal—sharing shampoo and toothpaste bottles rather than each of them having their own, splitting food regardless of what it is or who got it, pooling their money together for Vash to carry in one of his dozens of pockets, occasionally grabbing a piece of clothing that belonged to the other but choosing to wear it for the day anyway, Nicholas meticulously cleaning Vash’s revolver with the care he shows the Punisher, Vash mending the seams in Nicholas’ ripped clothing. All of it makes him feel hopelessly meshed together with Vash in a way he never wants to separate.

Vash is his partner, plain and simple. He has his back, and Nicholas has Vash’s back in return, unflinchingly. He trusts the guy with his life.

“You’re beautiful, Blondie. Stop.”

He grips Vash’s hair gently and pulls back so their eyes meet again. He can’t help it when he presses a gentle kiss against Vash’s lips, soft and slightly parted, sighing when Vash returns the kiss and places a hand on Nicholas’ waist.

“Thank you, Nick,” Vash murmurs against his lips.

“Any requests for food?”

“No, but a donut or four would be nice,” the blonde sighs wistfully, leaning back and looking up at Nicholas again with a smile on his face.

“Of course,” Nicholas replies. “I’ll be back, go relax.”

Nicholas places one more kiss to the top of Vash’s head before slipping his sunglasses and loafers on, looping his hand through one of the straps on his gun to haul it over his back, and lets the door close heavily behind him when he leaves.

He meets Meryl and Milly in the lobby, where they’re sitting on an old bench together and talking.

“How’s Vash? He seems weird,” Meryl frowns as Nicholas approaches.

“Dunno,” he answers truthfully. “He says he just hurts from sleepin’ weird but I don’t buy it.”

“Do you think he’s hurt?” Milly looks worried.

“Don’t think so. Told him to relax while we’re out if it really is just soreness.”

“God, he’s an idiot,” Meryl sighs. He knows she’s worried about him, too, though, and has to agree with her.

“Yeah, well, I’ll try ‘n get it outta him later. We gotta stop ‘n get some donuts on the way back, by the way.”

Milly smiles sweetly and Meryl smirks smugly. It irks Nicholas, having any sort of acknowledgment from the reporters when he himself is barely ready to acknowledge whatever the hell he and Vash have going on, if it is anything. All Nicholas knows is that it’s just wolfwoodandvash, and what they are is what that means.

“That’s very nice of you, Mr. Wolfwood,” Milly says. “I think I’d like to get some pudding after dinner, too. We’ll find a nice bakery.”

He can’t help but smile a little at her, and reaches out his free hand to grab her hand and pull her to her feet. “Let’s get goin’, I’m starvin’.”

Dinner is good and quiet but comfortable; they eat at some cheap 24-hour diner down the road, where Milly can order pancakes and Meryl gets some sandwich and fries combo that actually looks pretty good. Nicholas orders one of those to-go for Vash, and goes for french toast for himself—it’s a nostalgic food for him that was occasionally breakfast in the orphanage, and he enjoys thinking of the good memories associated with it. Mostly he just listens to Meryl and Milly plan out the next article they’re going to be writing while hoping that Vash is listening to him for once and taking care of whatever the hell is wrong with him.

They’re pointed to a bakery down the road where Nicholas picks up half a dozen donuts for Vash and the girls get their own sweets, and he makes a mental note to check out bounties in the paper in the morning to replenish their funds. Once back at the hotel, Nicholas waves goodnight to the reporters and heads back to his room. He’s not prepared for what he sees when he opens the door, food stacked in one hand while the Punisher hangs from the other.

“‘M back, Needle Noggin. How’re you…?”

His voice trails off as he takes in the sight of the room—there are silky black feathers and tufts of downy fluff scattered around the room, and Vash is sitting on the center of the bed, back facing the door and large, inky black wings sprouted from his back and draped messily over the sides of the bed. He’s seen Vash’s wings a handful of times before, sure, but it was always during a fight, and always when their lives were seriously on the line. Seeing them now, in this tame and boring setting, feels different though. Nicholas is up close with them now and no one’s in danger, he’s never really had the opportunity to take in how gorgeous they actually are.

“Wolfwood! Uh, hi,” Vash says with a nervous giggle. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

Nicholas raises a brow and checks the clock. “I’ve been gone for over ‘n hour, Blondie. What’s goin’ on?”

Vash groans and falls forward, face planted into the pillow. “Haven’t gotten to take care of my wings since you guys found me. They’ve been bothering me for weeks, so I figured I could do it while you were gone.”

“Why would you not tell me?” He almost feels a little hurt. He and Vash trust each other with everything else.

“It’s not exactly the most human trait… figured it would scare you off.”

Nicholas scoffs and sets down his gun. He kicks his shoes off and hands the food off to Vash, before sitting on the bed behind him. “Ya really think this woulda scared me away from ya? Have ya forgotten the fangs, the plant marks, the superhuman healing ability…?”

“No, I haven’t,” Vash snaps uncharacteristically. He visibly winces, looks back at Nicholas and frowns. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Didn’t know ya felt so strongly. None of it bothers me, though.”

“It should.”

Nicholas can’t help but roll his eyes. “Well, it doesn’t, so get over it. Have ya forgotten that I’m not exactly fully human anymore? A lot of the modifications were meant to get me closer to bein’ a plant.”

Vash is quiet at that. Nicholas knows he’s right and that Vash can’t argue that in return.

“I’m sorry, Nico,” the blonde murmurs, running his flesh hand through his hair to get it off his face.

The rarely used nickname stirs his stomach. “‘S okay, I get it.” And he really does. He’s never been able to be open with anyone about his less-than-human side before Vash, but he wants to be open with him. He looks down at Vash’s wings, seeing crooked and broken feathers, unbroken pin feathers in patches, and he wonders how long it’s been since he really took care of them. “How far did ya get on these?”

“Uh, not very,” Vash admits with a sigh. “It’s hard to do it yourself, the oil gland is pretty out of the way, I found out.”

“Did anyone help ya in the past?”

“Well, I didn’t really know I had them until my fight with Nai. So I never had to before then, but every few months or so I mess with the nerves in the prosthetic to make it easier to reach back there and kinda just do it one handed.”

That explains why he’d been fucking with it before Nicholas left.

“It takes forever that way, though.”

Nicholas nods. “Okay. How ‘bout you tell me when it needs to be done so we can get a room for a night ‘n do this? Can’t be good for ya longterm to ignore ‘em.”

Vash sighs, and Nicholas takes that as his cue to take off his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He adjusts how he’s sitting so that the heavy weight of the wings are settled over his thighs. He looks Vash’s back up and down, trying to look for where this oil gland he mentioned would be, then starts feeling around with his hands.

“It’s kinda in the center of my spine right below the base of the wings.”

Nicholas gently presses into it and his fingers are coated with an oily substance. To his surprise, it smells slightly… floral. He’d gotten to smell flowers on Vash’s home ship in the past, and this is giving him the same feeling. He smiles, and reaches to start in the base of his left wing, carefully raking his fingers through the small, soft feathers. He gently prods around to feel for any that aren’t sitting right and work them into a straight position. He can feel Vash shudder underneath his motions, and draws back slightly.

“Ya good?”

“Yeah, just feels nice is all.” Vash’s voice sounds a little airy and distant. “Never had anyone else touch ‘em before.”

The little surge of possessiveness that rushes through his chest is absurd, in his opinion. A man like himself is the first one trusted by this angel to touch such a personal part of him? Nicholas doesn’t know what he’s done to earn this, halfway thinks that he doesn’t deserve to experience it, but is more than grateful for it anyway. He’d be stupid not to be.

“Tell me if anything hurts, though,” Nicholas says.

“I don’t think you could hurt me even if you wanted to.”

He can’t help but laugh at Vash’s statement—ridiculously bold in a way that he normally isn’t, but also not entirely wrong. Still… “I led you to Knives. I have hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me doing that.”

“I lied to you for weeks, Blondie. I was responsible for a lotta the bullshit that happened back then.”

“Not really. That was Nai’s doing, and not something you need to feel guilty for. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else.”

Nicholas frowns, and knows that Vash isn’t entirely wrong. It could’ve been any one of the surviving projects the Eye had in the works, Nicholas was just the unlucky ace.

“I was already on my way to JuLai. I figured I could let you fulfill your contract, and you ended up being really good company.” Vash looks back at Nicholas with a soft smile, head tucked in his arms and resting on his curled up knees. “I’m glad it was you.”

Nicholas’ hands pause in Vash’s feathers, and he smiles dryly. “Yeah, you ended up bein’ pretty good company, too, Blondie.” He leans forward to press a soft kiss to his nape, then a couple more soft ones to the piece of metal embedded in his skin right below it. “Now eat your dinner, I know you’re probably hungry.”

He hears the blonde unwrap the sandwich and begin eating it while he continues to straighten out what he can. It saddens him a little how many broken or unhealthy feathers he’s combing out, watching Vash’s wings get a little less full as he lets them drop into a pile on the floor next to the bed. Even when he goes back to gently test the pin feathers and see if any of them are ready to crack open, it’s not enough to replace the amount of mature feathers falling out. He wishes he could get Vash to care about himself, but decides that if that’s not possible, he can care enough for him. Despite what he thinks of himself, Vash deserves kindness.

“Good sandwich,” he mumbles out around a mouthful. “Thanks.”

“Any time. Glad you’re eatin’.”

He feels Vash laugh softly under his hands more than he hears him and smiles to himself. Vash finishes the sandwich and three of the donuts in the time it takes for Nicholas to get through his left wing, and he truly is happy that Vash is eating. The idiot never eats enough. When Nicholas moves over to the right wing, Vash has curled back into himself again, resting his head on his knees with his eyes shut. As he begins pressing his hand into the oily spot on his back, he feels a strange sort of vibrating sensation rumbling through the blonde’s skin. He stops what he’s doing to flatten his palm against Vash’s spine, and realizes that Vash is purring like a cat.

“Guess that really does feel good,” Nicholas says softly.

Vash sighs and hums in agreement, arching his back out further like he wants more pressure applied. Nicholas will never be one to deny giving Vash something he wants, but he’s also sensible, and wants to get Vash’s wings fixed up first. He moves his hands back, gently massaging the oil through the hundreds of sleek feathers and picking out any broken ones. It’s satisfying watching them get shinier and healthier looking with the oil spread through them, despite the fact that they’re probably less full and fluffy than they should be. Nicholas feels a bit of pride in his work.

“Have ya showered or anything yet?”

“No, didn’t get much done while you were gone,” Vash replies with another anxious laugh. “Sorry.”

“What the hell for?”

“I… I dunno. Disappointing you?”

“Disappointin’ me how?”

Vash groans again. “Just… you make me wanna be better, and I feel like I don’t live up to that.”

Nicholas can’t help but roll his eyes. “Stupid standards, Needles. I’d never be disappointed in ya, ‘specially when I’m just glad that you’re alive.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, idiot. There was a long time where…” He feels his breath hitch remembering how inexplicably lonely he was without Vash—which is insane, considering he’d only been traveling with Vash for two months before they got separated after Lost JuLai. “We weren’t sure if we’d ever find ya. I didn’t wanna give up, but part of me kept thinkin’ that maybe ya didn’t wanna be found by us.”

That brings Vash to attention, and his wings are ripped out of Nicholas’ hold by the blonde turning his whole body around to be face to face with him. His brows were pinched in the center and a worried pout was on his perfect pink lips. “Don’t ever think that. I didn’t know I was lost, I didn’t know I had to look for you.”

“You weren’t responsible for looking for me.”

Vash leans further forward until the tip of his nose is touching Nicholas’, bright blue eyes centering in on his deep browns, and his hands come to hold his face. The contrast between the slight chill of metal prosthetic and the shocking warmth of his heated skin gives him goosebumps down his neck and shoulders. ”You weren’t responsible for looking for me either, then.”

“Vash, I damn near ripped apart this stupid fuckin’ planet looking for your dumb ass and I would do it a million more times if I had to.”

He sees Vash’s face turn pink, and leans forward to close the space between their lips. Vash is soft and warm, skin nearly feverish against his own as he licks over his bottom lip. Nicholas’ hands come up, one going to grip Vash’s nape and the other one to his hair. He feels Vash’s tongue swipe up against his own and sighs against him, opening himself up for Vash to take and letting his own tongue glide over Vash’s teeth, savoring the feeling of his canines slicing his tongue like it did weeks ago. Nicholas thinks he’d let Vash take absolutely everything from him, his blood, his life, whatever he can give to make this angel—his angel—happy.

“Let’s go get ya cleaned up, yeah? Your hair’s a little overdue.” Nicholas emphasizes his point with a gentle tug to the soft blonde locks he’s pulled back away from Vash’s face.

Vash nods and backs up. Nicholas kisses the center of his forehead before standing up, and watches Vash draw the newly-preened wings back into non-existence before following Nicholas. He briefly wonders where they’re stored, but figures it’s something to do with the “higher dimension”, considering the ability Vash had loosely explained to him a few weeks back.

“Stay with me?” Vash asks as he detaches his prosthetic, setting it on the table.

“Whatever ya want,” Nicholas promises, following him into the bathroom. He enters the cramped space as he witnesses Vash finish undressing, pulling his joggers and underwear down in one go and stripping his socks after. Nicholas can barely stifle a laugh as the blonde nearly falls and hops a little to keep his balance, earning himself a glare.

“Shut up,” Vash pouts.

“I didn’t say anything,” he laughs while holding his hands up defensively.

As Vash waits for the water to warm up so he can begin to fill the tub, Nicholas takes in the sight of Vash’s body. He’s seen him naked before, but never before has he really studied Vash. The metal grate and stitching over his heart makes his own ache so unbelievably, and the patches of steel and random smatterings of wiring littering his whole body are hard to think about. Vash is quite genuinely the most beautiful creature he’s laid his eyes on, metal additions and deep scarring and all, but his chest hurts over the idea of the price Vash pays for his pacifism. Even his hips and his thighs all the way down to his ankles, front and back, are filled with warped patches of scar tissue and pseudo-cybernetics. Nicholas wants to reach out and feel every inch of him, let him know that each part of him is adored by him, even if he has no right to feel that way.

“Don’t stare at me, Nico,” Vash murmurs, voice barely audible over the water as he plugs the tub and climbs in. “I know it’s bad.”

Nicholas feels his face get hot and he averts his eyes. “It’s not bad. You’re beautiful.”

Vash rolls his eyes and turns his own head up and away from Nicholas, his hair falling back out of his face. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Not lyin’ is one of the ten commandments, Blondie. Who do ya take me for?” He grins over at Vash and goes to sit down on the floor next to the tub.

“Don’t even start, we both know you’re an awful priest,” Vash smirks while looking back over.

“I never said I’ma priest,” Nicholas shrugs. “Can’t lie to ya, though.”

Vash blushes all over again as he rests the side of his head against the cool ceramic of the tub. His large blue eyes glance at Nicholas through thick, dark lashes as a thin sheen of sweat slowly builds on his cheeks and forehead. Nicholas finds himself drawn to scoot closer to the tub and rests his own cheek against the edge. He reaches his hand up to run through Vash’s hair, now slightly damp with steam. Vash’s eyes seem to struggle to stay open as Nicholas’ short, blunt nails gently scrape across his scalp as they glide through the soft strands onto, and Nicholas feels captivated watching the blonde’s mouth part as his body begins to relax.

Once the water is just starting to cover Vash’s pecs, Nicholas reaches over with his free hand to turn the water off, and they’re both enveloped in an echoey silence as the last droplets from the faucet bounce into the still water. The only sounds left are the slow sounds of Vash’s breathing, Nicholas’ own heartbeat in his ears and throat, and the faint hum of electricity from the overhead lighting. He moves his hand to gently cup the exposed side of Vash’s jaw, thumb coming up to the apex of his cheekbone to rub over the mole just under his eye. His fingers splay down the side of Vash’s neck and he can feel his steady pulse underneath them along with the gentle vibrations of the purring he’d felt earlier, letting Nicholas know that Vash is alive and with him. Vash is no longer out of his reach, and it hits him that Vash is no longer lost, either.

“Let’s get your hair clean.” He’s mostly telling himself, so he doesn’t get too sappy and sentimental too early in the night. Nine-at-night Nicholas is a little more ashamed of his emotions than midnight Nicholas. He moves away to reach on top of the sink and grab one of the small water glasses next to it, scoops some of the nearly-scalding water into it, and carefully rinses Vash’s hair while using his other hand to tilt his head back and protect his eyes from the water.

Vash leans right into Nicholas’ touch, sighing contentedly as he pours three more scoops of water through his blonde locks. He grabs their shared bottle of shampoo, scented like honey and something floral—not his first choice, but Vash had been so excited when he smelled it at a flea market a couple of weeks ago that Nicholas had no issue with making it their shampoo for a while. It’s a scent he’ll forever associate with Vash, and he wants to hit that town’s flea market again when they begin to run low. He squeezes some into his palm and lathers it together, then uses one hand to hold the back of his head as the other slowly massages circles into his scalp, starting from the center front and working back. He does it down the center twice more, then lathers more of the suds onto either side of his head, continuing the slow and deep movements. Vash leans his weight into Nicholas’ hands wherever they happen to move him, and once he’s done with the longer strands he does the same with the shaved down portions on the sides and back. An occasional soft whine escapes Vash’s throat when he hits a particularly good spot, each of which goes straight to Nicholas’ head.

Once he finishes, he scoops more water into the glass to carefully rinse his hair out, making sure to keep the soap out of his sleepy eyes. He’s satisfied when he runs his fingers through his hair and they come out clean.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Vash asks softly, leaning his cheek back on the tub again and looking up at Nicholas.

“I didn’t, just thought it might feel good,” he shrugs.

A soft smile breaks its way onto Vash’s face, and his hand comes up to grab Nicholas’ hand from where it’s resting under his chin on top of the tub. “You’re so nice to me.”

“You deserve it, angel.” It slips out without any hesitation, completely bypassing the filter he usually has on—maybe nine-at-night Nicholas is a little sappier than he thought.

Vash’s face flushes the prettiest pink, made better by the dewy sheen now settled on his skin, and Nicholas sees the faint flickering of the plant marks in his eyes. He must be grinning at it, because Vash suddenly pouts. “What? I can’t control it.”

“Cute.“

He rolls his eyes at Nicholas, lips pursing in defiance—Vash is really only proving his point, if anything. “Can you do my arm? I got the rest.”

Nicholas pours some of the soap into a clean washcloth, gets it wet, gently scrubs it over his arm, and hands it to Vash to take over. He pulls back to lean against the wall and gives him some space to move as he needs, not even bothering to pretend like he isn’t watching. It’s hazy and warm in the bathroom from the steam that’s been building up, and Nicholas feels truly, fully relaxed for what he thinks might be the first time in his life. Of course it’s Vash he’s comfortable with—who else could it possibly be?

“You’re unreal,” he murmurs. “You’re everything.”

Vash giggles softly and smiles shyly, eyes not quite meeting Nicholas’. “You’re funny.”

He rolls his eyes again with a suppressed smile. Even if he can’t ever convince Vash that he means it, he’ll continue to say it until he dies. “Sure, Blondie.”

When Vash finishes, Nicholas gets up to grab a clean towel from the rack and goes to dry him off. He pats the towel down his body, squeezing around his shoulders and down his arms, and Vash speaks up. “You don’t have to do this.” He sounds timid, unsure.

“I wanna.”

He would absolutely stop if Vash actually asked him to, but he doesn’t, so he continues down his torso, gently pressing the cloth into his ribs and waist, and over his hips. Vash flinches lightly when he moves down his pelvis, but ultimately relaxes and sighs softly when the towel goes between his thighs then back around the outside. He takes care to ensure that the fabric doesn’t catch on any of the metal fused to Vash’s skin, not wanting to pull on anything or potentially hurt him. When he finishes his ankles and the tops of his feet, he looks up and sees Vash gazing down at him with a look in his eyes that’s almost unrecognizable. It’s soft for sure, almost longing, but not quite.

“Thank you, Nico.”

Nicholas stands up and sets the towel on the sink. He brushes his teeth while Vash exits the bathroom to put on something to sleep in, then trades spots with him so Vash can do his teeth and Nicholas can change.

He pushes the window open before laying down and pulls out a cigarette from the pack on the bedside table. He hadn’t lit one while doing Vash’s wings, mostly because he didn’t want any ash or anything getting caught in the mess of feathers, and he’s aching for one now. Vash doesn’t seem to mind, flicking off the lights before he wordlessly climbs into the bed, turning on his side and curling up into Nicholas’ body. His damp hair rests on his bicep as his head settles in the junction of his shoulder and chest as his arm swings over his ribs, one leg coming up to tangle around his own. He’s used to sleeping with Vash, used to being close with him, but this is different. He feels different.

“Comfy?” Nicholas asks after taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

He laughs softly, switching which hand is holding the cigarette so his other arm can wrap around Vash’s shoulders to pull him flush to his side. He tilts to kiss the top of Vash’s head and watches his eyes close. “Me too.”