Inbox for sticksandbones

[lupusxylem]

I will not make this look pretty later, don't believe me it's all a lie

====

INVENTORY:

-The Punisher: Wolfwood's cross gun, normally covered in wrappings.
INFO from the mods on use so I don't forget: The cross-gun will be able to fire regular bullets (regains of these can be handwaved; silvered bullets can be purchased in the bonus AC store) just fine, without any special nerfs. The laser feature will be usable a max of 3 times a month.

-4 Vials of his Drugs(tm)
Info from the mods on use so I don't forget: Wolfwood can start with up to 5 vials of his Lab Drugs. More of these can be regained for the price of a Small Item (a maximum of 5 at once), but they will not work on other player characters for obvious reasons. Their healing ability will also be slightly nerfed to not heal anything instantaneously, but rather over a few minutes.
3/7: All Vials have been used. Will need to purchase replacements if he wants to use them again.
???: Forgot to put the date here but he's purchased more Vials, one has been used to he has 4 currently.

-A lighter

-A carton of cigarettes, more can be purchased/handwaved

-A winter coat that Heimr bullied him into purchasing

-A matching pair of boots for the coat

-A little knit wolf with sunglasses from Elsword.

-A blanket from Livio.

-A handgun with a wolf engraved on the handle.

-A black husky named Angelina

-A belt pouch to carry his regeneration vials with a cross emblazoned into the leather.

-Authentic rosary beads, with beads made from black glass and a heavy, silver cross pendant

-A black leather choker with a silver cross pendant, similar to the rosary

-A whole church(tm)

-A wool knit cat plushie from Pure Vanilla

-3 tomas chicks that currently live in Kiera's barn

-3 londonites

-Wolf skull shaped cufflinks

-A dagger for his "birthday" from Gnosis

Comments

[oleaeuropaea]

[It isn't just about Nai, not entirely. None of this would have ever happened if not for Vash's role in allowing the Big Fall to happen. There was a chance that Wolfwood might have been born in a happier, safer place. That he and Livio, and the rest of No Man's Land, could have had better lives on a better planet if not for his own hands.

It isn't just the blood of those that died in that Fall that stains his hands. It's everyone who's lived, suffered, and died on the planet afterward.

He at least has the good sense not to say as much. Internalizing every bit of grief and outwardly blaming himself for everyone's suffering was only bound to get his ass kicked. And while Wolfwood might not want pity, and interpret any sort of empathy as such, the least Vash can do is be present.

He pushes himself up with his cybernetic arm, just a little. Just enough to be able to extend the flesh hand, palm facing upward.]

You might not be able to stop, but at least you don't have to go it alone. We're both stuck together, right? Least I can do is help you shoulder some of that burden, Nick.

[lupusxylem]

[Vash carefully tempering his response here is wise, though given the fact that Wolfwood is tipsy by this point, it's hard to say what his reaction to it might be. He hasn't shown himself to be a belligerent drunk, at the very least. Probably because he carries plenty of that anger with him when sober, he doesn't need to be drunk for that to come out. No, the liquor makes the words come more easily that otherwise he would have kept close to his chest. Vash is hearing things he never thought he'd tell a soul, but with Livio here...it makes it a little harder to keep secrets. And now that Vash has let the cat out of the bag in regards to knowing Wolfwood's original intentions? He may as well be looking at him with his heart completely bare.

...well. Almost. There are some parts still locked away, parts that are slowly being coaxed to the surface little by little.

He never wants to be pitied, no. But to be understood?

...

He looks over to Vash, and his outstretched hand. Then...Wolfwood shifts so he can reach out and take it, just for a brief moment.]

Yeah.

...I'm glad you're here. Vash.

[oleaeuropaea]

[Sorry, Wolfwood. Once his hand is near Vash's own, he threads their fingers together. It's a gesture that's far more intimate than he'd normally be able to stomach, but given their previous resolutions and paired with the alcohol, his good sense is starting to trickle away. Left with nothing to hold them back, Vash stares down at their connected digits, watching as his thumb scrapes against the side of the other man's hand without really thinking about it. He's far too busy mapping the feeling of Wolfwood's palm against his own, after all.

Too close, his mind warns. Pull back. But for once that sinister, self-sabotaging voice is muffled beneath the faint buzz of booze and good companionship. Regret would come later, but not yet. Not while he's here.

His eyes flick upward, blue meeting brown with an almost boyish hesitation. How long has his face felt so hot. How long has his heart been fluttering like this. And above all, how long has it been since he's been able to hold onto someone for so long.]

I'm not going anywhere. It's a promise.

[lupusxylem]

[Ah. For as tired as he is, and as inebriated as he is, Wolfwood somehow wasn't expecting Vash to do that. It's kindof the same feeling initially of like when you go to give someone a high-five but they come in to shake your hand instead, or vice versa. It's a feeling that only lasts for a moment before Wolfwood is the one feeling the sudden strain of his heart beating too fast, like he'd just run a marathon or something. His face was already hot thanks to the liquor, but now it feels like he's? Dying? In a way he's never quite felt before.

It makes him feel like he should let go. He should let go. But...Vash starts to stroke the edge of his hand with his thumb, and it's like he's locked into place. He kindof realizes, in that moment, that aside from the embrace he shared with Livio a few days prior, he hasn't shared contact like this with someone in years. Even something as simple as holding someone's hand...he hasn't, not since he and Livio were still at the orphanage.

And maybe it's the booze, or maybe it's something else unwanted bubbling to the surface, but he can feel the space behind his eyes ache. His eyes sting, and for a terrifying moment he's actually afraid he's going to start crying or something because that's what it feels like. Why? Is it because he's drunk? They're literally just sitting here, what the actual fuck.

He exhales on a shaky breath and glances away, though he hasn't let Vash's hand go just yet. If anything, he just curls their fingers together tighter. Maybe if he were sober he wouldn't have allowed this to happen, but oops. His subconscious desires the closeness and therefore, he doesn't let go. He can't. So, childishly, he hangs on.]

Good. Cause I'll kick your ass if you try to leave without me.

[oleaeuropaea]

[Vash's eyes widen just slight, as that quivering breath leaves Wolfwood. Something sharp grips his chest, claws like molten lashes that leave him feeling gutted and exposed. His palm itches with a need he doesn't know how to reconcile — to pull Wolfwood in close and never let go, never let him go. At the same time, something in his mind screams to run far, far away. He said he wouldn't hold Wolfwood at arms length, but that doesn't mean he should pull him in like this

And yet -

Vash sits up properly, careful to keep their hands connected. He reaches out, lamenting that he has only the cybernetic to use. With the unfailing, frigid air, it leaves the digit cold and unfeeling. Wolfwood deserves something better, warmer than this. Than Vash. But this is what they have, and right now, he isn't about to let go.

His thumb brushes over Wolfwood's cheek, grazing along the bone. Then it slides further, into his hair. Something in the back of his mind longs to feel it, whether it's soft or coarse beneath his touch. He swallows it and focuses on coaxing him forward, forward, forward.]

C'mere, Nick. It's okay.

[lupusxylem]

[It feels...surreal, what's happening right now. Like maybe he could just be imagining it because he drank too much, or something. He's lost track of how much of this bottle he's drained purely on his own, and coupled with Vash, it's not even half full anymore more than likely. He's kindof forgotten it now in the moment, it doesn't really matter anymore, even though he's still sort of loosely gripping the bottle by the neck. And also they're holding hands?? They're holding hands now, that's what they're doing. This isn't a friendly handshake or anything like that, hands are being held and Wolfwood simply does not know what to do with it.

As it turns out, Vash is a bloodhound for someone having an emotion other than him, not that Wolfwood is doing a stellar job of hiding it. Even if he can mask his expression behind his sunglasses, the rest he couldn't even if he wanted to. not with Vash this close. The way his breath shakes, the way his shoulders are sort of hunched like he's trying to curl up into a ball, all of it compounding together into a little miserable cocktail. Not that it's Vash's fault, granted. Wolfwood just doesn't know how to handle it. Didn't know how to handle it with Livio, either.

So imagine the kind of overdrive his already misfiring brain goes into when Vash not only reaches towards him, but touches his face with that cool, metal hand of his. It's a literal shock to his system to feel the firmness there against his cheek, his eyes darting across Vash's face, bewildered. His heart, now lodged firmly in his throat, beats so hard and fast it feels like he's going to choke on it, because now that same hand has found its way into the back of his hair, flashing him with a brief memory of being sprawled in a messy tangle on the inn couch when he was sickeningly high and Vash was trying to help him down from it. There's a whole bunch of guilt and bad feelings he could untangle from how he behaved during all of that, except the part his mind chooses to laser focus on- to remember- is that Vash was petting his hair the whole time. This is not a new thing.

He's not sure how he ends up just...sort of. Collapsing forward into Vash's arms like he does. It happens involuntarily, less by his own force and more by him lacking the strength or the wherewithal to pull away. He's completely stunned by it, and now that he's here, Wolfwood realizes that he couldn't possibly let go even if he tried.

His free hand shaking, a sort of tenuous tremble like he isn't sure if this is okay, he reaches out to place it against the back of Vash's shoulders. And then, as if that simple act is enough to break the dam because he has nothing else to lose at this point, he loses his grip on the whiskey bottle and abandons it in favor of grabbing for him with his other arm too. His hold starts as tentative, barely there resting against the back of his jacket, before he finds himself fisting the material like he had when they fought out in the snow the other night. Wherever the bottle ended up, be it mercifully upright and unspilled, or turned over onto the bed or worse, it doesn't matter to him now.

Wolfwood clutches onto Vash like a lifeline, curling up against the blonde now instead of himself. His jacket is so thick and wide even just on Vash himself that it nearly plunges Wolfwood immediately into darkness when he buries his face against his shoulder, but he doesn't really care. It's clear judging by the way he's breathing that he's still fighting back tears despite no longer really being in a position to pretend he's okay anymore, his shoulders trembling as he holds onto Vash so tightly he's genuinely afraid he might be hurting him.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[There's a distant thump of the bottle, landing somewhere that Vash can't fully bring himself to care about. He feels a little guilty, just because of how nice Heimr had been with the whole thing. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it was the best Whiskey he had in the cabinet, but the label had still looked nice enough. He probably shouldn't waste it but -

but Wolfwood is clinging to him, and Vash has far more important things to think about. He coaxes his fingers through that hair. The fingers twined with Wolfwood's finally release, but it's solely to properly embrace the man. His now free hand swaps with the cybernetic — partially because he wants to feel, but also because it simply felt impersonal otherwise. The cybernetic then comes to rest against the small of his back, kneading circles into the skin through all the fabric separating them.]

You've gone through so much. I don't think I could ever understand it all. But you're not alone.

[It's the one blessing this strange world has given them. Their arrivals had only been separated by mere days. Not once had they really had to go it alone since winding up here. And when being faced with everything they had, it had been nice to have a shoulder to lay his head on, in the grand scheme. Even Vash, predisposed to a lonely road, had to admit he had appreciated it. He couldn't imagine being alone here.

He squeezes Nick just that little bit tighter as he thinks about if. The last thing he wanted was to tempt fate into trying to rip him away. Now that he had it, now that his heart was opening to the idea, he wants to cling to him. And given their positions, there's no reason not to.

His head lowers, nose grazing against Wolfwood's hair, then down to rest near his ear. It's an intimate position, one that maybe he'll regret later. For right now, it feels right.]

I'm here. I'm here.

[lupusxylem]

[That's probably where Vash is winning the most favor, here. He's not saying "I understand your pain, I've been there", but instead telling him that he doesn't have to suffer through it alone. His entire life, however short in the grand scheme, he's had to walk alone. He's killed countless people whether they were truly criminals or completely innocent, all in the effort of chasing not his own happiness, but a future for the children who still had lives on this world to live. He had given up on having a life a long time ago when he sold his soul away to the devil. He had been ready to accept the fact that he would never have a peaceful life, and that he would probably die young when his luck finally ran out. Might as well go out with a bang...right?

But then he finds himself in this place, where the problems of home- while not entirely gone- are in a strange sort of limbo where he can compartmentalize them in ways he never could before. Vash is here, Livio is here and alive, and...it's all nearly too much for Wolfwood to handle. It's part of why he'd tried to just leave on that first day, hoping that maybe he would walk long enough to snap himself back to reality, only to wake up to himself dying in the desert or something. It would track that this whole thing ended up being a dying hallucination.

...it all feels so real, though. He's drunk sure, but he's plenty sober enough to be aware of what's going on. Vash is holding him like one might a lover, and he's not compelled to jerk away and push him off like he might have been in the past. In fact, the longer they embrace, the more that bitter sorrow wells up in his chest, that realization that this isn't something he deserves. He can't...really have this.

Wolfwood exhales a second time, and this time he can't hold himself together any longer. He blinks hard, feeling the tears he was fighting back from earlier spill over into the collar of Vash's jacket. Even when he was being held prisoner and fighting for his life, he never cried. Not from the misery, not from the pain.

But right now, where only Vash can be privy to it, he heaves a sob into his shoulder.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[There's a reason why Vash makes a point of not thinking too hard. When he does, it's only bound to spiral. He knows he's setting himself up for a cruel and bracing reality check. One day, they'll surely get thrown from this place. When they wake up in the sand, they'll have to go back to who they were. Truly it would be easier on the both of them to not pursue this, to not erase the careful lines they've drawn for themselves within the sand.

They're two sides of a coin, in that regard. The people they are back home, the paths they've chosen — those don't allow for others to walk beside them. Yet somehow, this world had broken not just Wolfwood free, but Vash as well.

It was dangerous. It was going to end in disaster in someway. But Vash can't deny that he feels right holding Wolfwood like this. There's always been an attraction, an idiotic desire to be close no matter what. He's always admired Wolfwood's willingness to throw himself into things, his conviction when it comes to protecting others. And as a result, he's grown used to swallowing down those feelings.

But not now. Not as Wolfwood cries into him, and Vash feels himself weep in kind. It's okay, he tells himself, that he's shedding a tear. They aren't for himself, but for the man coiled within his arms. He repeats his words like a mantra, a whispered chant just to remind Wolfwood that he isn't fighting alone, that Vash hasn't given up or written him off.]

I've got you. I'm here.

[The words are thicker now, slurred with both the tears he's shed and those that he's biting back, but they still carry the same strength of resolve as before.]

[lupusxylem]

[By this point, Wolfwood is very drunk. He can feel that usual heaviness he feels when he's inebriated, but it honestly probably wouldn't have changed much about his reaction here. It's only served to loosen him up enough to allow this, because otherwise he'd have felt some sort of pathological need to keep pushing Vash away, sabotaging himself at every turn out of some perceived reason to not be happy. People like them don't have enough time on this planet to live, nor do they deserve it. And though Vash may live tens of hundreds of years longer than Wolfwood ever will, that sentiment remains the same.

But in this world, other than Livio, Vash is all he's got. He's the only person who knows him now inside and out. There's really very little left to uncover, save maybe the fact that Vash isn't the only one feeling like he doesn't want to let Vash go. Not just now, but...ever.

He's unable to speak for a little while, simply weeping against him like he never thought he'd be capable of. It sort of just bleeds out of him uncontrollably, and he knows later he'll be ashamed of it, but right now he just simply lacks the energy to care. It seems that Vash is in the same boat, though whether his own tears are sympathetic or something else entirely...well. That's not for him to speculate, he doesn't think.

It hurts so much. He truly wishes things could be different, yet it feels like ever since he was first born, he's been predetermined to be miserable. He isn't meant to be happy, because that wasn't the kind of world he was born into.

For right now, he lets Vash hold him. He holds Vash. And when he does finally find his voice again, it's terribly thick and muffled and he wouldn't be blamed if he didn't actually hear what Wolfwood was asking of him, but nevertheless...]

...stay. Will you...?

[oleaeuropaea]

[There isn't much Vash can do but let Wolfwood weep. Each gentle touch brings what comfort it can, but he can't siphon away his agony like he could the Plants. For as much as he loves humanity, he could never bring it a fragment of the comfort he could bring his own kind. Rather, he had only ever been an arbiter of misery for the humans he beloved so much.

At least this was different. Together they'd lanced a wound that had been festering for Wolfwood, and now it was finally being purged. And while Vash couldn't help the process, he would provide whatever support he needed. It was no different than when they fought together, watching one another's backs as their guns blazed.

Admittedly, he doesn't understand the words that the Punisher offers, but at least he's pretty sure he gets the gist of it. The hand in Wolfwood's hair slides back down, finding the span of his jaw and cradling it. He tilts the man's head up just enough, so that their eyes may meet. His own still shimmer with tears unshed, but he finds strength nonetheless.]

I will. I'll stay with you. Promise, Nick.

[lupusxylem]

[And just like that, Wolfwood sags with relief. As if he actually thought Vash would try to leave, or something. He is...very atypically emotional right now, okay. He struggles to hold onto his emotions on a good day, but right now he feels like he's spiraling out of control, and Vash is the only thing keeping him grounded. And now that they've separated enough to look at each other, that much is abundantly clear.

The look in Wolfwood's eyes is deeply sorrowful, more than even he himself realizes. His face is streaked with tears and he looks like a mess, but to his credit he isn't trying to hide it. It's there for Vash to see, warts and all. And then Vash's hand is touching his face again, and like a feral cat reluctantly accepting affection, he leans into his palm.

It's okay to want this. It's okay to just...let it happen, he tells himself. Maybe he'll feel differently when he's sober. Maybe he won't.]

Thanks.

[He mutters lowly, sniffing loudly. God, he feels disgusting.]

Sorry. M'fuckin'...gross.

[And now Vash's beloved jacket is very much slightly Damp.]

[oleaeuropaea]

You're not.

[This isn't just his bleeding heart seeping through. This is something worse. Affection wells up, undiminished by Wolfwood's teary-eyed state. Almost as if oblivious to the mess, Vash leans in to briefly brush their foreheads together, before he finally seems to realize that maybe, this was too much.

But only for now.

When he does pull back, it isn't far. He casts a glance down at his attire, steadily becoming aware of just how moist the fabric had become. To his credit, Vash isn't at all bothered by the state of his jacket. They both know that it has seen far worse than tears. The hardest part about caring for it right now is the fact that he has to draw his hands away from Wolfwood. From there, he simply sheds it and folds it up, treating it as delicately as one might handle glass. It's set aside, and Vash turns his attention back to Wolfwood once more.]

I can grab some tissues from the bathroom? If you want, I mean

[lupusxylem]

[This is definitely why Wolfwood doesn't cry. It's how gross he feels afterwards, definitely not because he's emotionally constipated and never had the room to feel things. Vash moving back does give him a moment's pause to breathe- for a long time there it felt like he just simply wasn't- lifting one of his hands to scrub at his eyes with the heel of his palm.]

...yeah. That'd be great.

[Please, Vash, he is so moist.

Meanwhile, you know what mercifully is not moist? Wolfwood's bed, which has been spared of having whiskey dumped all over it. He managed to just sort of drop the bottle in such a way that it leaned up against the wall, so as long as one of them grabs it before they kick it over, it should be saved. Theoretically.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[It's... not necessarily a welcome break, but one they probably need all the same. Stepping away from the bed and closing the door behind him in the bathroom lets him briefly gather his own senses. The warmth seated within his chest has not yet abated, and he doubts it will as long as he lingers anywhere near Wolfwood. Given that he has no plans to leave, he'll just have to deal with it.

The least he can do is splash some water on his face, then paw it off with the sleeve of his thermal shirt. He makes sure that he looks slightly less stuffy and emotional, before finally collecting a roll of toilet paper to do the trick. It's not the best tool for their situation, but what can you do?

Returning to the bed, Vash hands over the roll with one hand, then reaches down for the whiskey bottle with the other. It's carefully capped off and set aside for the time being.

Only then does Vash allow himself to settle on the bed once more. He politely keeps his gaze averted from Wolfwood, waiting until he gives his permission before he looks back. They might have just cried themselves out on one another, but now that the moment was over, he doesn't want to disturb the intimacy.]

[lupusxylem]

[While Vash is gone, Wolfwood sort of just sits where he left him in something of a stupor. He feels like a sponge squeezed completely dry, or a tube that's been suddenly and violently hollowed out. He's...not sure if he would attribute this feeling to feeling better, per say? But it's certainly a lot nicer than the anger and frustration he felt in its stead. Now, he feels...

He's not sure, actually. He sure does feel, though.

Wolfwood takes a minute to clean himself up upon Vash's return. Wipes his face, blows his nose, the works. He almost cannot believe he did that, but again, the whole weight of the situation isn't going to sink in until he's sobered up later and Vash is probably in his bed??? Since he asked him to stay, and that likely means "until morning". Not unless Vash plans on sleeping on the floor, which...........unlikely, after the moment they just shared.

He tosses a wad of toilet paper into the trash, pushing himself upright with a heavy sigh before regarding the little bags scattered on the other edge of the bed for a moment. After some consideration, he reaches into the one with the lollipops and pulls out one for himself, squashing that rising urge to smoke with something a little less offensive.

Vash can have one too, if he wants.]

I, uh. [...] ...sorry. About that.

[Maybe he doesn't need to apologize, but he feels like he should.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[Truthfully, Vash hasn't thought that far ahead yet. He hadn't even really considered the full implication of his words. Leaving might have been the furthest thing from his mind, but what that would entail hadn't quite occurred to him.

It's only a matter of time before it does, however. The blizzard outside has only continued to rage on. The Inn, already struggling to stay warm and keep its fires lit, was growing colder by the minute. And with only a handful of blankets to spare between them, their only option would be to hunker down together.

But all that would come with time. For now, Vash just shakes his head. The smile he offers is both tender and reassuring. Wolfwood, of all people, would know just how different it looks compared to the goofy grins Vash offered the rest of the world.]

You don't have to apologize. I'm glad you could let it out. [He plops down on the bed, shaking his head at the offer.] Those are for you! 'sides, I'm more likely to keep talking and accidentally swallow one whole.

[lupusxylem]

[Part of him also wants to be like "If you tell anyone about this I'll kill you", but. That seems redundant. Vash isn't going to tell anyone, not unless it was by accident, and even then...

He'll take the bag back, then, pulling it closed and tossing it aside so he can focus on working that sucker around in his mouth, resisting the urge to just bite into it with his teeth instead of letting it dissolve like a normal person. The sugar helps, though he is definitely still woozy. The room isn't staying still no matter how still he is, and every time he blinks his eyes feel unusually heavy. At least he isn't seeing double, he isn't that far gone.]

Mm. Yeah, well. ...guess you know everything, now.

[Or, as much as he thinks Vash needs to know. There are other anecdotes he could tell of course, about his life of ruthless killing, but...he doubts Vash wants to hear about that.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[Idly, Vash watches that lollipop swirl round and round his lips. He tells himself it's because it's the only thing moving, and thus the only thing to draw his eyes. It's a pretty poor excuse, though. As soon as he realizes what he's doing, he drops his gaze down to the bed.]

I guess I do. [Which... now that he thinks about it, he realizes just how little Wolfwood knows about him. Surely he was provided with a fair bit of information by his employers, but Vash could only guess how far that went. Maybe, maybe he knew more than the average person, but it still wouldn't be by much.] Sounds like it's my turn to do the talking next time.

[Not tonight, though. Tonight is about taking care of Wolfwood. He eases a little further up the mattress, settling himself properly beside his companion. It's close enough that their legs touch, enough that Wolfwood could lean back over onto Vash again, if he wanted to.

He won't push it. But the offer is there.]

[lupusxylem]

[Vash is right. What Wolfwood knows about him is actually quite little, because to guard and escort him for as long as was needed, he didn't really need to know much. Granted, he had enough of an inkling that he had to be different- inhuman, or close to it in some way- simply because that's how Knives was. Not that Knives typically deigned it important to inform his human underlings of things unless it was absolutely necessary, and Wolfwood is certain he probably sat at one of the lowest rungs of that particular ladder.

He's a pawn in the game, nothing more. And once he'd outlived his usefulness, he- too- would be discarded, and he would just have to accept that. It's a necessity, if he wants to keep the people he cares about the most safe.

Vash has rejoined him on his bed, and there's a clear, silent offer to be close. Well. Closer. Closer than they would have casually.

...

Wolfwood shifts, a sort of shimmy against the wall, until he is leaning against Vash's side. There's no longer a big jacket to hide in, but that doesn't stop him.]

Bet you've got a hell of a story to tell.

[oleaeuropaea]

[Once again, Vash finds himself wondering if he's gone too far. And once again, Vash crashes through the line he tries to draw, even as he's in the process of mapping it out. His arm slides out and around Wolfwood's waist, keeping him close. It's not quite as enveloping as the jacket might have been, and it probably lacks the warmth to go with it, but it's still a gentle gesture all the same.

His own head tilts, angling so that he can rest his chin on top of Wolfwood's head. He hasn't felt so right — and so wrong — about a gesture in ages.]

I'm sure I do. [There's a hint of unsteadiness in his voice. He'd been asked to stay, but would that continue to be true if Vash told the truth? His background wasn't pretty, and his hands were far from clean. Would it make the Punisher think twice about him and the ideals he already seemed to detest?

It would be better for them if it never came up at all. Instead:]

You can ask me anything you want.

[lupusxylem]

[When Vash puts his arm around him, Wolfwood is pretty damn sure that his heart starts beating so hard and so violently in his chest that there is no way Vash can't hear it. The pumping of his blood roars in his ears and makes him feel briefly dizzy, which can be somewhat attributed to the alcohol, he thinks. Forget the jacket, he suddenly feels like he's sweltering just from that slight touch alone. It is an incredibly intimate gesture, and it's not accidental either.

Wolfwood breathes out slowly, so the sharp little intake of breath he gave just then is maybe not quite so obvious just as Vash is resting his chin against his head, and oh no the feeling is back. But it's not...a bad feeling, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's just new, and overwhelming, and he doesn't exactly know how to handle it. But as it's been doing for him this whole time, the whiskey has Wolfwood's back. It smooths over the nerves, gentle and forgiving, and before he really realizes what's happening, he's relaxing into what is most definitely an embrace at this point, one-armed or no.

Fuck. Fuck it.

He glances down, looking at the way they're now sitting together. Vash's legs are so long it looks silly with them halfway hanging off the edge of the bed.]

...you sure? I don't need to know right now.

[He knows Vash's past is fraught, and a lot of it isn't good. At least Wolfwood's could be summarized in a few words, but Vash...]

[oleaeuropaea]

[There's a brief but terrifying moment in which Vash thinks Wolfwood might pull away. Sharing an emotional half-embrace was far different than a deliberate one. He loosens his grip to allow the other man to squirm away, already pushing down any welling affection. The growing regret for having pushed too hard is also choked back as well.

Thankfully, he doesn't go anywhere. With a little adjustment, they're both settled in an embrace that's far more than one shared between friends. Likewise, Vash's own heart starts to thud as the gravity of their position settles in, too late for anything to be done.

It's fine. He can do this. Keep calm.]

Consider it an open offer.

[It doesn't have to be that night, not when they're both already raw. Vash just knows that the playing field is uneven at the moment.]

We don't have to do anything, really. Can just sit here and call asleep for all I care.

[It's about them that Vash realizes what falling asleep will entail. Hed only just talked about their shared rests together, but that had been for the sake of watching over one another at their worst. They were both in good health now, capable of agreeing (or disagreeing) to their circumstances.

And Vash didn't want to go anywhere.]

[lupusxylem]

[An open offer, huh...

Well. There really is only one thing that Wolfwood, personally, has been wondering even long before he and Vash ever met. He doubts it's something Vash can actually give a concrete answer to, but...perhaps he has a hunch. A hypothesis, at any rate. It won't require him to delve into details about his past or anything unsavory like that, at least not right now.

Not when Wolfwood is leaning in against him, savoring his warmth while also trying not to just vibrate right out of his own skin.]

I'll ask just one thing, then. For now. Might be...kindof redundant, but.

[He's also Kindof Drunk so words are hard.]

What...do you think Knives wants with you so badly? My orders...have always been to keep you alive, no matter the cost.

He could've just offed you a hundred times over to get you out of his hair, but he hasn't. I don't get it.

[Because...unlike what Vash may hope and pray for, Wolfwood doesn't think it's out of any sort of love or desire to see his brother again.]

[oleaeuropaea]

[Given their close proximity, Wolfwood will undoubtedly feel the way Vash tenses. He'd offered up anything, and he doesn't intend to go back on that promise, but that doesn't mean he loves the topic at hand. Fitfully, his fingers fuss with one another, unsure of what to grab at without the excessive fabric of his jacket. They wind up buried in the sheets.

Absently, his gaze slides away.]

I know what I want it to be. And I also know what it's not. [It's as Wolfwood thought. Knives' desire to see Vash again didn't come back to familial love. Even admitting it to himself fills him with a bone deep ache. he lifts his hand to press down above his heart, just to keep the pain from radiating too far.]

I think he wants what I can give him. Power that I can't access. Not that I know how he plans to get at it.

[He'd never be able to predict what Knives was planning.]