bakerstreet | train to the afterlife

train to the afterlife

train to the afterlife meme

Congratulations: You are dead.

Maybe you know how, maybe you don't. Perhaps the memory is fuzzy, or perhaps it's crystal clear down to the look in your comrades' eyes. Maybe it was your time; you've done all you wanted to. Or maybe you weren't at all ready to go, maybe you went out kicking and screaming - but none of it matters. You know you're dead, and the train is taking you to an afterlife. Perhaps an afterlife of your choice; you might've earned that heaven. Or perhaps you've earned something else entirely.

It'll be a bit of a journey, though, so you might as well take your time and talk to the other people in your coach. Death knows no place: most of them are strangers, even from faraway worlds. But death knows no time either, so who knows, some of them may be people you know, even if last you knew, they were alive - or long gone.

Oh look, here comes the snack cart.

Post with your character's name and canon in the subject line.
Said character is now dead for whatever reason - canon, AU, what have you. They are on a train with other dead people from many other times, places and worlds.
Characters don't know for a fact where they're headed - just a general awareness that they're going to some kind of afterlife. Whatever they think it is is up to the player.
This meme is built especially for cross-canon interaction, and potentially for threadjacking and group threading - if you're interested, may be a good idea to state as much in your subject line.
Tag around and play nice!

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Oh, that was a lie, even as much as he had learned to accept himself, that had to be a lie, but he wasn't going to argue the point. If Vash wanted to love him that much, he wasn't going to complain, not anymore. He would take what he could get, gladly, and to Hell with worrying anymore about whether he "deserved it" or had "earned it." At the very least, it was a conversation better left for when he didn't want to get his hands all over him, for when he could think about anything other than wanting to be so close to him he could feel it under his skin. There was no way he could think clearly enough to have that conversation properly right now.

He felt the edge of the bunk pressing against his knees, and he grinned against the skin of Vash's throat, letting go of the bitten inch of flesh and almost responding before the feeling of that thumb on his own throat made him shudder, his head rolling back to give him more room. Oh, that...why did that feel so good? He moaned softly, a corner of his lip twisting up in something that was halfway between a grimace and a curious smile as his eyes slid closed so he could savor the way it made parts of him tingle that were definitely not directly connected to his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, 's...probably for the best." He let himself drop to the bed, let his hands pull away from the back of his head so that he could begin to work at the buttons on the front of his coat before the admission made him look back up with a small, knowing smile.

"Not since Octovern, right? That's fine. I know you weren't really happy with them anyway, were you? I don't care, I just want you, doesn't matter what you look like." He reached up with one hand, tugging him down by the back of his neck so he could kiss him again, while his other hand snuck in through the few closures he'd managed to undo, reaching for the exposed skin he knew was hidden underneath, where the leather didn't cover his stomach. He dug his fingertips in gently as he met flesh, his hand gliding up and down in long, slow strokes before a tiny little thought hit him, the texture of the skin smooth and soft.

He pulled away from the kiss, pulling his hand away from his neck so that he could hold the leather of his coat open, and he grinned, letting both hands slide up the opposite sides of his body.

"Well, wouldja look at that...? 'S not just your arm, is it?" He looked up at him with a playful little smirk, enjoying the feeling of smooth, unscarred skin under his palms. He had never been repulsed by the scars on Vash's body, but he knew, he knew, the look of them had been a burden on the man.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips above his belly button, and on a pure whim, he let his tongue dart out, dragging a little trail up, letting himself act on one of the little intrusive thoughts that had first popped into his head years ago, when he'd seen him without that coat, that patch of skin almost taunting him when he still hadn't been sure exactly what it was he even felt.

He let out a panted breath, moaning softly at the salty, warm taste of him, and looked up to catch his eyes again with a wicked little grin before he kissed him just underneath where the leather started again.

"Been wantin' t'do that for a long time, now."

It was not even a little bit a lie, not for Vash. To him, Wolfwood had done so much, meant so much, for him, that forgiveness had been earned.

But... it still mattered to him that he'd asked, startling and bemusing as it was. It made something that had been chilled and hard for a very long time crack and begin to melt.

His lips parted, helpless, at the soft moan, as if trying to catch the sound. The sensations were so many and so much that his mind, unused to being stimulated in this way at all, was struggling to understand what was happening already. Other than that he didn't want Wolfwood to stop. He didn't want to stop him. (Eventually he was going to to figure out that he could ask for a slow down when he was like this, but that might take a few tries.)

"I... yeah. Not... not since..." He was going to spiral down thinking of Octovern, even like this, but Wolfwood was moving forward and that was for the better, for all the remark about the scars (oh. Oh. He had not felt them pulling and catching and twinging on his skin, but then again, everything was so different that he had not realized it was a sensation he had been so used to that was gone...) He blinked down, and his brain caught between the feeling and the sight of Wolfwood's dark fingers against his unmarred skin. It was... strange, to feel fingers against his skin that were not seeking wounds to heal. And very strange to feel them sliding smoothly.

Strange, but good.

Then Wolfwood dipped his head and Vash's eyes widened, a helpless noise coming out of his throat, even as his hips shifted, trying to chase after the sensation.

"O-oh..." His ears were feeling hot, and had no idea why. Actually his entire face was feeling hot. "Th-that feels nice." Do it again but also what if he hadn't liked it? Then again, that grin- was it because of how Wolfwood felt, or how he thought Vash would feel?

Would Wolfwood want him to do that, in turn?

His fingers were tightening and straightening restlessly where he was holding on to Wolfwood.

"What... should I do?"

Sorry, sorry, he was absoultely blanking out - he'd gotten a good start with the touch, but then being touched had kind of gotten a lot.

The sounds he was already drawing out of him made little electric tingles ripple down his spine, and he shuddered, giving another appreciative little sound of his own when he felt his hips arching against him for more. He let his hands stroke back down his skin until they met leather again, and then down further until he was framing his hips in his fingers, kneading down his thighs through the thick material until he reached the first of those ridiculous belts.

"Yeah? Think that one's a keeper, huh?" As if the blush on Vash's face as it travelled all the down from his ears to the point where his neck was wrapped in that same leather body suit wasn't an answer enough as it was. So he moved back to his stomach, dragging his tongue against his skin again before pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his ribs and sucking, his thumbs digging and pressing circles into his thighs, just above the belts. There was no rhyme or reason to what he was doing, it was all directionless, acting on the little intrusive thoughts that had popped into his head over the years, and it hadn't even occurred to him yet that Vash seemed to have gotten frozen in place until the question made him pull away and look up at him in mild surprise.

But then...he actually thought about what he'd asked, and...he laughed, shaking his head and looking strangely delighted at the fact that he didn't have the foggiest clue.

"I don't even know. I didn't...I'm not even thinkin' that far ahead. I just...wanna take care of you. Make you feel good, like you deserve."

He stroked his hands up again, stroking the pads of his fingertips along the skin on his belly where the leggings began, and marveling mentally at how suddenly sensitive his fingers felt, the gentle friction of Vash's skin on the ridges of his fingerprints almost strong enough to tingle the same way his spine was. The only thing he could have possibly compared it to was the memory of those damn serums as they worked their way through his system, how they made every single one of his nerves fire off false signals as they worked to heal bullet holes and broken bones, except this was nice. Made him want to press harder, spread his hands flat and slide them up, splaying his fingers across his skin just for the joy of feeling the contact.

"Maybe let's start with gettin' this ridiculous kit off of you, first. You leave me to unbuckle all of this myself and we'll be here forever! And...tell me what you want? Just...whatever you want to feel. What sounds nice, and I'll do it for you, how does that sound?"

The soft little smile lingered on his face as he stared up at him for a few seconds more before another one of those intrusive little thoughts flickered across his mind's eye, and the look turned fiendish again as he looked down at where his hands were spread, back up at Vash's face, and then back to his stomach. He liked the way he was playing with his stomach, huh? Ok, he could work with that. He moved his hands slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and then his eyes glanced up, almost coy, as he moved in to press the tip of that tongue against the edge of his belly button, his hands sliding to frame it in the crooks between his thumbs and fingers. He pressed another of those open kisses around it, hummed and closed his eyes, pressed his tongue into the little dip in his stomach, and let another quiet moan roll up out of his throat at the taste of him as he teased in what was, in his fuzzy brain, just a little bit obscene and hinting at something else he wouldn't be opposed to doing if it suited Vash's fancy.

Vash actually arched into the bite, the combination between the acute, intense awareness of the fact that it was Wolfwood who was donig this and the light sting of the bite shorting out his brain to the point there was a murmured response that sounded suspiciously like 'please.'

But then he blinked, tensing up in a different way at Wolfwood's relpy, one hand tightening to signify that he didn't want to push him away but the other actually flailing a little.

"All right, all right, take it easy on the deserving part, all right? I'm not sure... it'll take a while to sort out what I think I deserve." But the light splash of cold awareness actually helped him get his bearings a little, and he narrowed his eyes.

"I like the idea of ... less cloting. So long as it's for both of us? Is that all right?"

... and then Wolfwood was molesting his midriff and Vash couldn't help another small moan, head falling back.

"...'s good."

The sound of Vash pleading, the feel of him arching into the things he was doing, was a heady rush, and he moaned approvingly, his own body shifting, tensing at the ache that had begun to burn from the inside out, his own cheeks prickling with the flush that spread just underneath his skin. He was doing that, he was the one making Vash feel good, and God, did that make him feel good, too.

The little flail was a little surprising, though, until he realized what he was saying, and a knowing little smirk crossed his face as he reached up, taking hold of the flapping hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the palm before he was letting go again.

"Alright. I won't talk like that again." Not right now, at least, not if it would kill his mood. Actions spoke louder than words anyway, that was the saying, right? And if Vash wanted him out of his clothes, too, then that was easily solved. "I think I can handle that, yeah."

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it across the tiny cabin, taking the time while his hands were afterward preoccupied with unbuttoning his shirt to pepper little kisses across his stomach. The air on his bare skin when he pulled the tails out of his pants and tossed the shirt over to join the coat suddenly felt wonderful, exposing him in the best way. He hadn't ever expected just the act of undressing in front of him to make him feel so good, but he wasn't going to question it, not when teasing Vash, making him moan and arch the way he did, was so much more fascinating.

The mumbled words of praise made him hum back happily, his eyes opening so he could tilt his head just enough to look up, staring captivated by the look of hm stretched out with his head thrown back, and suddenly he was too far away, that graceful arch of his neck too high for him to put his lips to it, and he gave a small, frustrated growl as he pulled away from playing with his belly button so that he could push himself back a bit further on the bunk.

"Come 'ere, I want you closer!" He didn't give him a chance to respond before he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his thighs, his cheek pressed against his chest in an almost-cling as he tugged, aiming to pull him into his lap so that he could get access to more of him. He hadn't even given him anywhere near enough time to get out of his coat, let alone that ridiculous leather gear, but all of that suddenly seemed less important than being able to hold him, to bury his face in his neck and breathe in the scent of him.

"I... thanks." He could tell that smirk meant that the whole topic was not over, but somehow the kiss on the palm made him warm inside in a way that settled him down, blue eyes wide still but now just so. Warm.

He had managed to mostly shed the coat by the time he was pulled into Wolfwood's lap, but did make a noise of surprise at the tug, the sleeve catching on his right hand for a moment too long before he shook it off and could wrap himself properly around the other man, fingers carding gently through the dark hair. It was... strange like this, his eyes so much higher comparative to Wolfwood's, but with the man's face pressed against his neck, it was convenient, too. He tilted his face to press a kiss to his temple, long and lingering, his entire body settling with the way they held each other.

"Close is good." The words were very quiet, a little surprised. He had missed embraces for a very, very long time, so yes, it did surprise him just how good it did feel. One hand stayed half-buried in Wolfwood's hair, but the other one - the newly flesh one - moved down to explore the nude warmth further down, fingertips sliding down Wolfwood's spine.

"... warm."

The flapping of his arm as he tried to free it from his coat as Wolfwood pulled him into his lap made him give a little chuckle that melted into a vibrant little groan the moment fingers slid into his hair, and he turned his head up into it, feeling as if his whole body wanted to arch into the electric little tingles he felt as those fingers caressed against his scalp.

"Oh, God, that feels good..." He nuzzled the bridge of his nose up under his jaw when he felt the kiss against his hairline, his face going slack. Even the feeling of Vash settling against him was so much, and the feeling of that hand stroking down his spine, the sound of his voice rumbling in his ear, made him groan, his hips bucking up against the body in his lap, and he groaned again, louder, at the friction it caused and the attention it drew to just how hard he was.

"Yeah...yeah, 's good..."

He nuzzled again, nudging up under his ear before his lips latched onto the soft skin just behind the hinge of his jaw and nipped, suckling, licking the taste of salt off of his skin. His hands moved, stroking down his leather-clad thighs and then back up, cupping his ass, sliding up to the exposed part of his back and finally pressing against his skin just firmly enough that he could slide them as far as he could get underneath the leather.

It was so frustrating, tight enough that there was little he could do until they got him out of it, but that also meant there was something so tantalizing about the look of him wrapped in something so tight, something that showed off every angle of his body and left so little to the imagination. It was the worst kind of tease, and it wasn't even the type of clothing that was meant to be.

He'd have been lying, if he had said there hadn't been moments in the past when the sight of him in it hadn't gave him some rather vivid, rather interesting mental images over the years. He wasn't exactly well-versed in a lot of things when it came to sex, but he'd been in enough seedy places where he knew garments like this? Would have had a very different function, and that was...a very compelling thought.

It had been so long since he'd heard Wolfwood's voice, the ways he used that which were not words had started to fade even from his memory. So the chuckle, and the moans, different, churned in his chest in ways that he could not explain if he were made to. Not bad, but not painless, either.

But that only added to the overall confusion that his body was feeling, stimulated in ways that it never, ever had been before. His entire skin felt aflame, and each touch intense but so, so different from pain that he had gotten so very used to, that he had no idea how to interpret the touches, how to react to them. For a long moment, he just quivered, then his mouth formed the name he'd missed for so long, except his voice cracked at the end of it, turning it into a half whine.

"Wolfwood..." Gasped out breath. "How do I... what do I do..." It was as far as he could make his words work. He was feeling so much and had absoultely no concept what to do about it. What he could do.

Other than the quiver, it was only his hands, fingers, which tightened gently. He had no idea if he wanted more, or less, or what, but he did want him near.

There was something about the way he trembled in his arms and the sound of his voice that finally began to break through the haze of lust clouding Wolfwood's head, and he blinked, nuzzling once more against the edge of his jaw before he pulled back enough to look up at him.

"Vash?" His eyes threatened to close at the way those fingers gripped more firmly, but he forced them to stay open, to look up at him, take in every inch and every little expression on his face.

"Hey, Cariño, mira me." He pulled his fingers out from underneath the leather, sliding them down so that he could curl his fingers around his narrow waist instead, and he shifted just enough that he could look at him properly. Not pulling away, but giving him room to breathe, regardless. "Tell me what you're feelin', pretty boy."

Because suddenly, he was noticing an edge to the way he was reacting, to the way he held himself and let his fingers grip but not touch.

Vash did not hesitate to look, when asked to, his eyes were a little wide and confused, even as his pupils were dilated enough to make his eyes look almost dark. His body recognized this as pleasure, and reacted accordingly; his mind absolutely did not.

He parted his lips to answer, then frowned slightly, and sloooowly shook his head.

"Can't...? I'm feeling too much to..." He trailed off, making an effort to focus. "Too much to articulate." The wide eyes slowly narrowed, as he tried, but his expression just turned helpless. "It is not bad. It does not hurt. And it's a lot."

He was embarrassed at how unhelpful that was, enough to want to want to burrow his face against that warm, inviting shoulder, but the words were still there. mira me. Look at me.

The look in his eyes sent a shiver right down his spine, but he held himself back, especially when he saw the confusion on his face, heard how hard it was for him to form a cohesive thought. They hadn't really done that much, but he was already to the point of barely being able to form words. Something about that felt like...maybe it might have been fun to take advantage of, later. But not unless he'd had a chance to talk to him about it, when he wasn't in the middle of making him nonverbal.

It didn't help, either, that being unable to articulate himself correctly seemed to be upsetting him, so he moved to pulled his hands away from his waist and reached up, gently holding his face.

"That's ok, that's fine. Let's just slow down a bit, yeah? See if we can make it feel good and not just 'not bad'."

He kissed his cheek, his forehead, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths to try and calm himself down. His thumbs brushed gently over his eyebrows, smoothing them down soothingly as he peppered his face with slow, gentle kisses. Even if Vash's body were enjoying every second of what he was doing, if his mind was unsure, he couldn't push past that, wouldn't, until he was enjoying himself.

Vash blinked, owlishly, at those last words. Then his eyes narrowed at the way Wolfwood was clearly trying to to rein himself in, and he dropped his gaze a little.

"I... sorry. You have not been doing anything really fast, it's on me." Feeling... good. Did he eeven know how to recognize that? He wasn't sure. But he also leaned into the touch, and closer to Wolfwood's face, nuzzling just a little.

"My skin feels... too tight. And too hot. And I feel like I need to move, I want to move, but I don't know how, and also what if I move and it stops feeling like this..." Beat. "Or what if you don't like it and stop..."

... though the last part made his mouth twist thoughtfully, and a bit self-amusedly.

"Though not wanting you to stop means I do like it, right?"

He was trying to work his way through it. On the other hand, something - either the slowing down, or some of the processing, let his hands loosen a bit, palms splayed along the expanse of Wolfwood's back and caressing lightly, so perhaps it was the right track, for all the self-consciousness and the sparkling of guilt.

There was a moment of curious confusion on his face before it sank in, just what Vash was describing, and it inspired a myriad of reactions to hit him all at once. A shiver rolled down his spine, his face flushed darker and he grinned, almost leaning in and picking right back up where he left off before he reminded himself that he had caught on to what was happening, but obviously Vash hadn't and that wouldn't help matters. And, for a moment, he had to fight back the delightedly surprised little chuckle over the fact that, for as old as he was, Vash apparently had even less knowledge of the mechanics than he did.

It...probably wasn't exactly the best way to get your partner to enjoy the moment if you laughed at their inexperience in bed, especially when you were both about as inexperienced as they came. So he bit his tongue instead, leaning up and giving an appreciative little hum as he kissed the corner of Vash's mouth playfully, and then leaned in to practically purr in his ear.

"Vash, it's fine. You're overthinkin' it. All of that's normal. The better it feels, the more you wanna move, 's just how it works." It was a little wild, to be honest, the thought that even that was unknown to him, but...maybe it was a Plant thing. Weren't most of them 'Sisters'? Maybe it just didn't work for them the way it did for humans, even for the ones like Vash. "But it's fine if you don't like it, you know? Sometimes that just happens, people don't have an interest in it, or you might like somethin' I don't think about. If you don't like somethin', tell me, and I'll stop, I promise."

He shifted on the bed, his arms wrapping around Vash's middle to pull him into a hug, his knees pulling up so that he could relax into the cradle of his hips, indulging the need for closeness but also letting the contact become less sexual and more of a hold.

"Let's just settle in, yeah? Stop thinkin' about it and just let your body do what it wants. It sounds like it knows what it likes, and I think I know enough to give you what your body asks for, even if you aren't sure how to ask for it yourself." And he'd have been a liar, if he tried to say he didn't enjoy the sudden thought of Vash following his body's whims, pressed against Wolfwood's front, and managing to find his release that way.

He sighed at the way he could feel the hands on his back relaxing, pressing against his skin, the fingertips brushing over his body drawing a contented sound from out of his throat. He let one of his hands move in kind, caressing the barest of touches over the ridges of his spine, gentle and barely firm enough to tickle, and he reached up to hold him by the chin with the other, holding him still so he could press a chaste kiss against his lips and smiling up at him with his own lidded, blown-pupiled gaze.

"Start with your hips, Mijo. Try pressin' against me, see if you like that."

The confusion drew a frown on Vash's face, as he struggled to categorize more of his sensations to make them clearer, and more or less failed, the way his body felt too new to match with words even were he in the habit to talk about himself in the first place. But then the grin, the darker flush... oh. His expression relaxed.

Perhaps for most people their lover laughing at their inexperience would not have been nice. For Vash, between having missed Wolfwood for so long, and even before that having had very rare occasions to hear that laugh, and the utter lack of context to think it as mockery, it would have been a joy of its own. But the grin, the purr, ah.

They were enough.

He got distracted from answering, for a bit, because with that small kiss, he wanted another, proper kiss, and when the words slowed down, he claimed one, curious but also just a bit deeper, because, yes, his body did know what it wanted.

Then he hummed. "It's... not usually been a good idea for me to stop thinking." It was a habit, now, to at least try to analyze everything. But he wasn't saying it as an argument, or an excuse. Merely a remark that it probably was not going to be easy to do as Wolfwood was advising. But the reassurances had been heard, and he was relaxing a little more. "And sure. If I don't like something, I'll tell you." It was easy enough, he thought. Even for him. If he recognized it as something he did not like, but he discarded that thought also. For now.

Especially with Wolfwood's fingers sliding along his spine, along leather and skin both, and he helplessly arched his back like a particularly large cat.

"Hh...." A blink. "My hips...?"

He'd seen nough fights to know pressing against him should not be with all his weight, so Vash moderated it as best as he could, which means he used barely any force at all, as he first shimmied his hips against Wolfwood's lap, and then rolled them, experimentally, before he felt the hardness beneath him, a ridge in the pants that felt very nice, and he slid up and down along that, too.

He was certainly trying. And having direction for right now actually helped a lot.

"Like so?"

For some reason, despite the fact that they were not moving nearly as much as he would for training, his skin was getting a little sweaty. Too many sensations he did not understand, really! A part of him thought the leather might not feel very pleasant shortly, but as Wolfwood was certainly playing with its edges, he thought it should stay. Right?

It was almost adorable, watching the way Vash's expressions shifted as he tried to put the feelings into words, especially now that Wolfwood knew he wasn't doing something he didn't like and Vash just wasn't telling him. And seeing the way he relaxed and began to let himself just feel instead of think too hard about every little thing was enough to make a little of Wolfwood's own apprehension melt just a bit more. Especially when he was kissed back, drawing a wanting sound out of him as he leaned in, tilting his head into it and chasing after when he pulled away to reply, no matter how little distance he put between them.

He smiled against his lips, savoring the warmth and soft texture of his skin as he spoke, and in the brief moment of distraction as he dragged his nails up and down his back as a reward for the way he arched into his touches, he almost missed the softly questioning words, only mumbled out a quiet "Mmhm" in return to encourage him without stopping to think about what he was asking. He was so focused on indulging him for the way he arched for more of those touches that he almost missed the first little warning shimmy of those hips against his. It was more of a tease than anything else, and he only realized what he had unintentionally invited him to do in the split second before Vash was rolling against him, finding the hard length of him still hidden in his pants and settling in to move against him with more determined focus.

The immediate shock of pleasure punched a groan out of his chest, and he arched into it, the hands on Vash's back moving down sharply until he was gripping one of his thighs, pressing against the small of his back with the other hand.

"Oh, fuck!" Suddenly, all of his attention was narrowed down to that single point of contact, and his eyes rolled back, his head falling back and thumping loudly against the wall of the bunk, but he barely felt it through the teasing rolling of those hips on top of him. "Fuck yes, like that! Harder, right there!"

He squirmed underneath him, his thighs spreading, legs shifting until he could almost just get his feet planted on the mattress to give him enough leverage to thrust up, but he was too close to the edge of the bunk, and one of his feet slipped, dropping over the side of the bed ineffectually. Even so, it felt good, so good, and when he lifted his head to look down at the way Vash's body rolled against his, he moaned again, the sight so lewd even with all of their clothes still covering them that his head rolled back again, his shoulders arching as his own body tried to roll back up, seeking more, needing more.

"Holy shit...Tha's good!"

The oh fuck made Vash freeze, but only for a moment as Wolfwood's hands, his motions - now that his mind had the key to interpret them as feeling good - and his words made him relax once again, and his eyes lit up, just watching everything. Even as he did move, shifting a little to slide along the hardness he could feel more precisely, a few times more slowly, and then, carefully, pressing a little more as the friction was making something between his own hips pulse. Something strange was happening under the leather, and it was a little restraining, far more so than usual. Yet Wolfwood's reactions were far too fascinating to stop and think about that.

He bit his lip at the thunk of head against bunk, but then shifted to make sure there was a pillow behind that head, or at least wedged close enough, all without breaking the rolls forward-back rolls of his hips. Then he suddenly did not know what to do with his hands, no longer conveniently able to hold on to Wolfwood's back, so he ended up splaying them on the dark-haired chest haphazardly, perhaps his fingers rubbing over a nipple carelessly. (For now.) Because he was just focusing on Wolfwood's face, and the contact, and making sure he was giving enough as he was asked.

Though a few more shifts and he blinked, eyes going wide as he gave a whimper, the sensation for him intensifying also. His lips parted, focus still mostly on Wolfwood, his motions changed from trying to please to adding seeking his own sensations in the process. He still wasn't sure he would call it pleasure, mostly because the word had little context for him other than, say, food, which was so very different from this, but he certainly wanted more of it.

He writhed against Vash's hips as he felt him beginning to settle into a rhythm, both of his hands settling on the crook of his hips and gripping, pulling, holding him gently closer as he let his own judder and arch up for more underneath him. What coherent thought he'd had before was quickly beginning to slip away from him, suddenly caught up in his own body's need for more when only moments ago, it had been a fleeting thing he'd been happy to ignore in order to help Vash find his own pleasure. Now, there was no ignoring the throbbing, pulsing need, something he had hardly had a chance to seek even when he'd been alive, rarely giving himself even a moment to give into what fleeting fantasies he'd had. It was intense, so much more intense than the pleasure he'd gotten from his own hands, and the fact that he hadn't yet gotten around to taking off his slacks was a thought that he didnt have even the brainpower to care to consider, now.

The feeling of Vash shifting enough to lean down and shift a pillow under his head made a soft laugh roll out of his lungs before he was moaning again, letting his body settle onto the mattress underneath him more fully, his head rolling so that he could look up at the man straddling his hips and seeking his own pleasure against his body through lidded eyes. But then the feeling of those fingers brushing over one of his nipples as Vash leaned his weight onto his chest punched another low grunt out of him, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of pleasure into his cock.

"Fuck, yes, shit. I like that, feels good!" One of the hands left Vash's hip to hold the hand on his nipple, pressing it closer as he bucked up against him again, trying to match his rhythm. But then he saw the shift on his face, heard the beautiful little sound he made as his body adjusted, seeking out a new angle, and he moaned for him, loud and long as he gave another thrust up. "That's it, Mijo, you find it? Is that it? Come on, Baby, you got it, let it happen, just like that."

His hands moved again, reaching for the buckles on Vash's waist. The angle was wrong for him to be getting proper relief, wasn't it?

"Lemme touch you, Vash, lemme see you. I'll help make it good, Cariño, lemme get you off."

The laugh was met by a dazed smile of Vash's own, the sound and how precious it was getting through even the weird... shift? Something that had come over his perceptions, the way his focus was on the sensations. Or, perhaps, it was another sensation that added to it.

The hold and direction and affirmation of his touch made his eyes focus, and while they were still with blown pupils and his hips moving almost on their own, his attention turned to that touch and sensation, and he rolled his fingers a little over the nub. Somehow it made him more aware of the leather pressed against his own, but he thought... perhaps he can ask Wolfwood to show him how it feels later.

... except. Except there was slowing down anyway, and Vash's hips stuttered as his eyebrows scrunched in.

"It, um, I'd have to stop moving to-- take that off?" Was Wolfwood sure that was what he wanted? He was good just now... but also Wolfwood was asking him in that voice, with that intensity, with practically scrambling for the buckles was doing things to him and he had no idea how to understand those things at all, just that he also didn't want to deny him. Not with the way his heart kind of twisted in his chest on top of ... more? happening? to his body?

So he was confirming. Just... making sure.

Those pants would take a moment to get off.

Vash was smiling, a real, genuine smile even as dazed as it was, and he let out a gasped little sound at the way it sent a jolt of pleasure through his body. But then the fingers on his chest began stroking again, and a shudder rippled through his entire frame, ripping another loud, uncontrollable moan from him, his nerves aching and his other nipple tingling in want of the same in a way that he wasn't used to. It made his entire body flush, the heat of it rolling up and down his neck and over his shoulders and his chest, and oh, oh, he felt his body wanting to tense up, his hips pressing up, grinding into the slender frame on top of him.

And then Vash's reply gave him a moment of dumbfounded shock, and he looked up at him for a moment before laughing, long and loud and harder than he had in a long time.

"Fuck, Vash, fuck, why- you-!" He sat up abruptly, one hand reaching up to grip the back of his head as he kissed him suddenly, crushing his lips against Vash's, and then again against his cheek once more before he was laughing again, wrapping both of his arms around his shoulders as laughter hit him again.

"You are ridiculous, those pants are ridiculous!" There was something about the surge of emotion that almost seemed to overwhelm him; pleasure and laughter and the joy of their reunion hitting him all over again until he had tears running down his face and was pressing quick kisses against his face, over and over as if it were a compulsion, and it was so much, everything felt so good, that in moments he had pressed his cheek against Vash's and clung to him, gasping sharply at the pleasure and emotion that had him in a vice grip.

It was too much, the thrusting of his own hips beginning to lose rhythm, and he could feel himself just on the edge.

"'M close, Vash!" He felt his thoughts clouding, narrowing down until the only thing he knew was the pleasure, sharp enough, his body needing it enough that it was almost painful, and he grunted against it, letting his body thrust and grind against him, chasing after the feeling that was just out of his reach, every breath punctuated by a whined, pleading moan. "Y'feel so good, God, 'm gonna come!"

Wolfwood was laughing and kissing him but then he was crying and Vash was confused even with the soft kisses, with continued motions, so he held on, and then did something he had rarely tried with a human - to open up his emotions to him, to read Wolfwood's...

... which with the touch, and how deeply the emotions were running, turned out to be not difficult at all. So on top of his own near overwhelming, he got Wolfwood overwhelmed, but he could also know now that it was joy not grief or pain that made him weep, that the pleasure he was feeling was a little different and more built-up than his own, though it also was similar in some ways, and it somehow heightened up his own, making his hips grind back in return, not let up even with that whine.

He did not know, again, what the words meant exactly. But he could feel the anticipation, the rising crescendo of sensation and pleasure that verged on too much, the intensity near enough to bursting somehow, and he made a noise that was, well, encouraging, coaxing him further.

Welcome to an emotional feedback loop of your own finishing, Wolfwood. He didn't mean to.

There was a moment when something shifted in his head, disorienting, like suddenly he was in two places at once, as if he were feeling what Vash felt on top of his own quickly-approaching climax, and his body locked up, his lungs pulling in a sharp, audible gasp and then freezing as he hung in the space between almost-there and suddenly-there for far longer than he had ever felt in his life.

And then Vash was grinding down again and it was as if his own pleasure was doubling in on itself, slamming into him so quickly and so heavily that it felt like his mind exploded in his head, his thoughts whiting out as his body spasmed, arms clutching, clawing at Vash's shoulders, his head falling back and his body arching against him in jerking, writhing thrusts. His mouth hung up, screaming silently as his lungs refused to draw in a breath for moments that seemed to stretch on forever, his head pounding and pleasure rolling up and down his entire body, warm wet heat soaking his slacks in throbbing waves. And then, just as the pleasure began to ebb, he found his voice, crying out sharply, his voice echoing around the cabin.

A moment later, all of the strength left him and he sagged onto the bed, like a marionette who's strings had been cut, his chest heaving to take in massive gulps of air. He lost seconds to the haze in his brain, his ears feeling as if they were stuffed full of cotton as he hovered for a few moments on the edge of consciousness, but slowly, reality began to fade back in, the sound of the car rolling along underneath them, of his breathing rasping out, soft whines falling from his gaping lips.

He stirred gently, taking fuzzy stock of all of his limbs and giving an awed sort of panting laugh, and eventually had enough lucidity to move again. His hands found their way back to Vash's knees, stroking in slow, mindless circles, swallowing around a lump in his throat and licking his dry lips before he cracked his eyes open to look muzzily up at the form above him.

"...Whoof. Wow. Hullo 'gain."

He laughed softly, grinning dazedly from ear to ear, and then...something bittersweet hit him and he gasped softly, caught by such a strange sort of sharp, brittle happiness that he realized a moment later he was sniffling back big, wet tears. He reached up, too weak to lift himself up just yet but wanting to be close, and grabbed for any handhold he could get on those leather buckles before trying to pull Vash down.

"C'mere...Too far away again. C'mere."

The moment he was close enough, Nicholas' arms would be wrapped around his shoulders again, pulling him down tight against his chest so that he could bury his face in his neck while he tried to let the strange tear-streaked joy run its course.

Vash was indeed too far. Vash was too far because he was sitting where he had been when that storm of pleasure hit, eyes glassy and unfocused, lips parted, absolutely stunlocked. It had been a long time since he'd felt good. And he had never in all his life felt anything remotely coming close to half this intensity. His entire body was zinging, but that hardly even registered because his mind was utterly overwhelmed. Wolfwood's mind short-circuited, and Vash felt every last bit of that, and he had no idea how to handle that.

The small circles of touch on his knees was the first that started to registered, and then the pull, and he almost dropped down limply on top of Wolfwood, only catching himself out of reflex so he didn't headbutt his face or something like that. But then he was being held, and Wolfwood was seeking comfort in him, and he slowly started focusing again, hands twitching, then arms shifting to hold him properly, cradling his head close.

"That was. Is that... what it's like? Are you all right? Do you need anything?" He wasn't moving though because he needed the proximity as much as Wolfwood did.

The sight of him, frozen and caught in the aftershocks of what Wolfwood dimly realized must have been one of those Plant things he could do, was honestly more than a little enthralling, the look on his face even through bleary eyes making Wolfwood groan at a little shiver that rolled through him again on the tail end of his climax. He was more than happy to have him come out of it, though, if it meant that he was giving into Nick's need for touch, and even when he gave a soft "Oomph" when he dropped down onto his chest, he gave a soft laugh and just hugged him tighter.

He hummed softly at the question as he held tight to him, nuzzling both in a need for comfort and an instinctive display of affection, and even as he felt his body wanting to squirm slightly away with the first moments of oversensitivity in the aftermath, there was something about the moment that made him need to hold on, to keep him close and feel his body over him.

"Hmmm...I don't...I mean...yeah? Just...it was never that intense. I dunno if it's just...'cause someone else was involved, or if it was whatever you did. That...that was you, wasn't it...?"

He gave a soft, watery laugh again, because even as bewildered as he was at what had happened, he was still riding on a cocktail of wonderful brain chemicals - or what equated to them for people in the afterlife, and he definitely didn't have the brain power to think about that right now - and the tears that kept wanting to catch in his throat had decided that they were perfectly content to coexist with the syrupy contentment that was rolling through his veins.

He licked his lips curiously at the question, giving another soft, thoughtful hum, and his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what his still-tingling body wanted, and found himself still feeling strangely tense, wanting to move, to arch and press against the body against him, but it felt...strange. Different than any afterglow he'd ever gotten from his own hand by far, but also a strange sort of lingering need that wasn't quite like what he was used to feeling. It made him squirm, and when his hips shifted under Vash's, he felt a sudden jolt of...something, and he gasped.

The more his mind cleared, the more the sensation began to coalesce into a dawning realization, and he moaned softly, nuzzling his face into Vash's neck again, and now that he was paying attention, he felt it, the sensation of pressure and touch and warmth, his own neck tingling as if expecting Vash's face to be mirroring his own, when he definitely hadn't.

"Vash...Vash, think you're still doin' it..." He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the crook of his neck and sucked, and the experimenting little tease got a sudden groan out of his own throat as he felt the pinch and pull as if it were his own skin, and suddenly, even with his own body still coming out of the aftershocks and wanting to sink into a muzzy-headed sleep, he felt himself beginning to respond to the stimulation, twitching half-heartedly in his pants.

"Yeah...yeah, that's you." He laughed again, grinning, dragging his tongue up his neck and laughing again, louder, the sound settling into a deep growl. "Fuck. Yeah, I'm alright. Just...gimme a minute...need a minute, that's all."

Which would have been easier said than done, if he could stop himself from teasing, and it was that thought that made him suddenly shift, sitting up suddenly so that he could push Vash down onto the bed beneath him and push himself away, looming over him on his hands and looking down at him with an absolutely ravenous look.

"I am so not done here, but I'm absolutely filthy right now, and you are wearin' way too much. Everything's always a little...too much at first, right after, I need a minute, alright? Lemme get out of these pants, an' then we can work on your stupid belts, an' then I can make up for poppin' off too quick. 'Cause I think maybe we've got an uneven score right now."

He reached down, his hand pressing against the apex between Vash's legs, and oh, fuck did that feel good, but so different, and not just because of the way he could feel all of it as if it were happening to his own body. He wasn't sure what was hidden underneath all that leather, but just the feel of it under his palm told him that it wasn't exactly what he'd imagined, and that...

Well, that just excited him even more.

He leaned down, pressing a teasing little kiss to his lips and rubbed, shuddering and moaning at the ripples of pleasure it gave him, and then pulled away with a wicked grin.

"I'm gonna enjoy finding out what you've got for me in there."

And then he was sitting up, and experimentally, he focused for a moment, the same way he would when he was trying to manifest a cigarette, and gave a small hoot of victory when a canteen appeared in his hand. "Still works!" Then he kicked off his shoes, shimmying out of his slacks and his shorts in an obvious rush. He gave himself a chance to take a drink of the water in the canteen before using some of it to wash himself clean before wiping the water off with one of the legs of his pants. They were already filthy, anyway, if they even actually existed, and he didn't feel like getting dressed anytime soon, anyway.

"... I'm sorry. You words were still confusing so I... it's a sharing of emotions, mostly. I haven't done it much with a human." And by that he meant at all. "Should I stop?"

His brain felt sluggish, except for the sharp points of pleasure, multiplied by the way they were bouncing between them, and his body entirely too sensitive and abuzz, but when Wolfwood flipped him, he stayed when he was placed, on his back, eyes following the other man's actions and words, mostly, and fingers kind of digging into the bedding and relaxing.

He could have started on the whole buckles thing, but Wolfwood seemed to have something in mind, so he waited. For some reason it felt like Wolfwood was planning to unwrap him as a present those richer kids got, all tied up with ribbons, that made the children's eyes light up in anticipation.

His anticipation felt good. Mostly, all of what he was getting from him felt good, and that was why he was reluctant to sever the connection until he was told to do so. After so long in his own head, with his own pain, this felt utterly intoxicating. Better than any drink he'd ever had, any food he'd ever tasted.

Though his eyes widened and he did chuckle a little at the appearance of the water. "Impressive." He watched with his own curiosity as Wolfwood stripped. He had--

He had seen things, when he prepared him, back then. But he looked different now. The member was bigger and in a different position, and the powerful legs shifted and brimmed with vitality, not like when--

The sensation of cool water with the wash-up made him blink, again far too intense for what he was expecting, but then, right now, everything was.

Edited (Had some to add.) 2023-07-15 21:01 (UTC)

The question might have made him laugh, if the implications of the explanation didn't make him suddenly feel a little warm and gooey inside in a way that was definitely some kind of affection but completely different than the arousal he felt. Instead, he looked at him with an expression that had gone suddenly soft and then let out a soft breath as he smiled and shook his head.

"No, I don't want you to. Not unless you want to stop, I mean." With anyone else, the thought would have felt invasive, too much, oppressive, even. But then Vash had seemingly been doing things like that even before December, and it had never felt wrong when it was him, had instead been strangely reassuring, even if he hadn't quite realized what exactly was happening until sometime later.

He gave another small laugh, though, when it dawned on him, what he'd meant when he explained why he'd done it, and that grin turned just a little teasing just before he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against his lips again.

"You know, if I say something you don't understand, you can ask. Though as old as you are, I'd think you'd know enough to understand a little dirty talk. Or should I ask what old-man words you'd understand, instead?" It was only half joking, to be honest. He could think of a few terms that would make him groan and roll his eyes if Vash asked him to use them, instead, but that also gave him the mental image of Vash wanting him to say things that were filthy to him even if they were completely absurd to Nick. Would he? Were there things he could say that would drive him up the wall? He certainly didn't have any practical experience in using that kind of language with anyone, himself, but he was nothing if not a mouthy asshole, and one thing he did know was that he at least enjoyed the idea of saying things that riled him up.

Especially when he looked back down at him and saw how pensive he looked, almost shy, tense and so focused on him, and then for just a moment, impressed by the stupid little trick that had given his hands many hours of things to fidget with over the years.

"Eh, it's not, really. You'll get the hang of it soon enough, it's mostly just...thinking about something hard enough that it just appears. I mostly used it for cigarettes, even if there was never any nicotine in them to give me a fix. I just needed something to..." He only hesitated a moment when he felt small wave of curiosity that at first made him want to preen just a bit, before it shifted into something...something old and sad. He almost asked what had happened, what he was thinking about, but then the cold shock of the water seemed to kick whatever it was back out a bit. He gave a little smirk, doing his best to push it to the back of his mind as he glanced away. "Needed something to keep my hands preoccupied, sometimes. Just an old habit."

Still, the comfort of the mental connection melting into that moment of whatever memories or thoughts had pulled Vash's thoughts away left a little ghost of emotion behind even after it had gone, so that when he screwed the cap back on the canteen and tossed it to the side, grabbed Vash's ankle so he could sit on the edge of the bed and fold it, lean against it and stare down at him, the playfulness had given way to something softer. Leaning his chest against his calf, his cheek pressed against his knee and letting his arms wrap around his leg so his fingers could brush soft caresses against the leather wrapped around his thigh, he stared down at him with a longing sort of quiet awe. He wasn't particularly thinking about what he was sending through the connection as his eyes lingered over his features, taking in the angle of his jaw, the shape of his upturned nose, the long eyelashes that lined those beautiful blue eyes and the little mole on his cheek, and he couldn't help the way his chest ached with the love he felt and the deep, yawning, somewhat bittersweet joy he felt at finally being here with him, at the end of the road.

He blinked back tears, but he was smiling when he glanced away, pressing first his lips and then his eye against his knee, hard enough that he saw little fireworks of misfired nerve signals behind his eyelids, and then he shook his head and kissed his knee again as he pulled away to begin focusing on the buckles of his boot. Unlike the frenzied, needy energy of before, now he slowed down. The want was still there, simmering under the surface of his skin, but he didn't particularly feel like rushing things, now. This wasn't like unwrapping a present. This was better. This was care and love and relief, a kind of peace that slowly began to settle into his bones and left him feeling hollowed out inside but in a good way, and even before he'd finished unfastening all of the buckles on his calf, he felt a bit overwhelmed and had to stop, looking back up at him and hugging his knee against his chest so he could smile up at him with watery eyes.

"I missed you so much. I was with you every day, but...I missed you." It was silly, wasn't it? He gave a shaky little laugh, looking away and kissing his knee again, at this point like a compulsion. He wanted to spend hours kissing him, pressing his love into every inch of his skin, and he wanted to just hold him, making up for all the times he hadn't been able to when Vash needed him the most. He shook his head, pressing his forehead against that bony knee and laughing again.

"Shit. I'm turnin' into a blubbering mess over here, huh? I'm gonna end up ruining the mood."

train to the afterlife

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