Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Well aren’t you pretty,” Wolfwood says, and he isn’t lying, even if Vash does look a little scary at the moment. He is beautiful. Covered in feathers— like white down, even his face. Wolfwood’s never seen Vash sprout them quite like this before, full body. He’s got himself in the corner of the room, all curled up in a defensive posture.

Vash makes an inhuman sound, which Wolfwood thinks is fair, since he’s not much of a human at all. He doesn’t catch it often, which just speaks to how good Vash is at pretending to be like everyone else. But every once in a while Vash will do something downright weird and Wolfwood’s reminded of just what Vash is. It’s not normally this blatant, however.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you don’t need to be afraid of me. You know I won’t hurt you, Vash.” Wolfwood gets down on one knee, bringing himself eye to eye with Vash. It feels like the right thing to do with him so obviously scared.

Vash makes another strange noise, and this one does startle Wolfwood, which is probably the desired effect. Vash must be feeling vulnerable as ever to be acting like this. Wolfwood takes a step closer. He’s been hit in the face by Vash’s metal arm enough to know he can take it.

“Come on, sweetheart. What’s got you all worked up? Let me help.”

Vash starts to make another scary noise, but it turns into a whimper halfway. Wolfwood will take it.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Come here. Lemme see ya.”

Wolfwood doesn’t bother waiting for Vash. He closes the distance between them, crawling on his hands and knees. Vash hisses and bears his teeth, but it doesn’t work. Wolfwood reaches out and brushes his sweaty hair off of his feathery forehead, and Vash makes a different sort of noise this time. It kind of sounds like a moan.

“Good boy, Vash,” he says, and Vash’s feathers ruffle in a way that doesn’t seem as scared or angry as he was before. “What’s wrong?”

Vash licks his lips, smacking them. It takes him a long time to speak, almost as if it’s hard for him. “Heat,” he answers.

“You’re hot? Can’t do much about that angel, but I can get you a cool towel.”

Vash nods, and then shakes his head no, whining. “Breed,” is what he says after, and Wolfwood’s mind connects the dots all at once.

He remembers back when he was a kid in Hopeland, when the Thomases would get rowdy in April. Miss Melanie always told him not to look too hard in the pen if he didn’t wanna see something that he shouldn’t, because it was time for the Thomases to make their new babies for the year.

Heat, she called it. Just like Vash did.

“Plants go through heat?” He asks. “Didn’t know that.”

Vash points to himself and grunts, and Wolfwood isn’t sure, but he gets the feeling that this isn’t a plant thing per se, but a Vash and Knives thing.

The implications are loud, and Wolfwood can’t help but ask. “Is Knives about to tear down the door and rip my head off?”

Vash whimpers at his brother’s name, and then he shakes his head. There’s a story there, something else thing that Wolfwood thinks he should probably ignore and look away from, so he does.

“You want me to fuck you?” It’s a crude question, but it’s not something they haven’t done before. Normally Vash isn’t covered in this much plumage, but he can make it work.

Vash whines again, but this time he lunges towards Wolfwood, wrapping his feathery arms around Wolfwood’s neck. “I think I’ll take that as a yes,” Wolfwood replies, laughing to himself.

As much as he thinks Vash likes being in the corner of the room, Wolfwood knows that his knees will not thank him for fucking on a wooden floor, so he scoops Vash into his arms and carries him to the bed. There, Vash spreads his legs, and Wolfwood realizes that the feathers don’t stop there either. They look almost matted, and it takes him a moment to realize that Vash is that wet. Slick is practically pouring from him. It smells sweet, too sweet to be anything that would come out of a human’s body.

“Spoil me, sweetheart,” he says, and then he stops wasting his damn time. He gets between Vash’s legs, putting his mouth on his pussy just like he has dozens of times before, even though it feels different. Wolfwood doesn’t mind, and it only takes him a second to realize that nothing about Vash’s anatomy has changed. Licking between his folds still feels good, and when Wolfwood parts the feathers with his fingers, he can easily find Vash’s clit, hard and demanding his attention. He listens to Vashs’ body, sucking Vash’s clit between his lips, humming when Vash makes a strangled sound and his feathers ruffle everywhere. That feel good? Is what he would ask if he wasn’t so busy. Vash needs him, needs to get off, and Wolfwood has no idea if he has the right parts to really help Vash right now, but he’s sure gonna try. He licks and sucks on Vash as if it were a regular Tuesday afternoon, ignoring when he makes a racket and pulls on Wolfwood’s hair, because he can feel that Vash is getting close, and that’s all that really matters.

Vash finishes with a yell, one that Wolfwood is absolutely going to have to explain away to the innkeeper in the morning, but it makes his dick throb.

Wolfwood pulls up from Vash, barely wasting a moment wiping his face on the sheet before he’s stripping naked. He needs to feel Vash everywhere, he wants to feel Vash everywhere, so that’s what he does. He positions himself between Vash’s legs, not flinching when Vash reaches up to him and grips his shoulders so tight that it’s surely going to bruise. Wolfwood slides inside of him, careful to mind his feathers, and Vash howls in a way that lets Wolfwood feel his pleasure and relief.

“There we go, angel,” Wolfwood coos, and the pet name seems really damn fitting right about now.

He fucks into Vash without a care, guided only but what Vash had told him earlier— breed. He doesn’t know if finishing inside will do a damn thing for Vash, but he has to try. It’s a slick slide, getting his thighs and the bed wet, but the noise is music to his damn ears, echoing off of the walls of the shitty hotel room Vash locked himself in earlier. He’s so damn glad he didn’t let Vash shrug him off and run away. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Vash is one hell of a typhoon alright, and Wolfwood’s more than swept up in it.

Wolfwood feels himself start to get close, and he runs his mouth, just because this time, Vash won’t complain at him to stop. “You’re gorgeous, angel. Mine, you hear me? You want me to breed you? Wanna walk away with one of my kids? Blooming like a damn flower?”

Vash cries out. He pulls Wolfwood in close, tucking his head in the crook of Wolfwood’s neck as he nods. Wolfwood keeps fucking going, sweat dripping down his damn neck.

“I’d make you mine if I could. Keep you pregnant until you had to beg me to stop.” He doesn’t know where this shit is coming from, and he kind of hates how true it is. He and Vash don’t talk about shit like this. There’s no label between them, no love confessions, no bullshit. It’s just the two of them, and Wolfwood supposes that this is part of it now. He almost hopes that Vash forgets. “Finish on my dick, sweetheart. Show me how bad you want it. I know you want it. Let me breed you.”

“Ah! Ah!” Vash squeals, and then his body locks tightly around Wolfwood’s, coming, coming hard as his body gushes around Wolfwood’s cock.

“That’s a really good fucking boy,” Wolfwood growls. “Gonna give you everything you want. Always. Never gonna stop.” And then he’s coming too, spilling deep inside Vash, keeping their hips pressed tight, as if he’s trying to get as close to Vash’s womb as he can, as if it would take, as if it were a possible thing for him to do.

All at once, Vash’s feathers shudder, and then Wolfwood feels as some of them start to retreat back into his skin.

“Wolfwood,” Vash breathes, and it takes Wolfwood by surprise, making him jump a little. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Wolfwood tells him. He keeps their faces tucked in close, letting himself collapse on top of Vash. Neither of them move, and Wolfwood doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to look Vash in the eye just yet. He said too much, he said too little. It’s like all of his words are used up, because he’s speechless now.

Vash pets his sweaty hair, humming before he says. “Thank you.” And Wolfwood feels it. It’s enough.

Vash isn’t human, not like he is. But at least he can do this.