Summary: "Gently , but firmly, Luida gets him to agree to go through some tests. Through the use of improvised equipment, they are able to pinpoint more accurately what is happening to Vash.
The origin of his problems, as it turns out, is so simple he could laugh, if only he didn't feel so miserable.
Puberty. The Independent plant kind."
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In which Vash and Knives must meet yearly to satisfy their bodily needs, or face the consequences.
It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Content warning
Underage sex (mild because they're both in their late teens). And incest, obviously.Chapter 1
Posted: 27/08/2023
Status: Ongoing
The first time it happens, it has been almost a year since that fateful meeting, the one in which Vash lost his arm and felt like he’d lost his brother, too.
It starts with a strange, tingling feeling all over his body. A hypersensitivity to touch that gradually gets worse and worse until the slightest nudge feels like he’s been stabbed, piercing through his skin and muscles and bones. A pain he feels deep in his soul.
He bundles himself in his thick, too-large coat, cutting himself from the rest of the world and giving his overwhelmed senses a break. The people at Home worry. They try offering comfort and advice. But their touches hurt him, their words disgust him, and he wants to be left alone and yet not. A need for solitude and company in equal measures. A desire for someone at his side, but not them. Not them.
He just wants to curl up in a ball somewhere. He hopes it will be a temporary thing, a simple consequence of his rapidly growing body that will fade with time. Of his strange, inhuman biology that betrays his true nature, despite his best efforts.
It gets worse.
His lower belly feels tight, and yet so empty. Not his stomach, or whatever serves a similar function in his body, but lower. His flower, though it remains stubbornly closed, starts leaking into his underwear, and his petals are so sensitive, that the slightest brush of his clothes against them hurts. He starts going without underwear and switches his thighs for loose pants. It doesn’t help the leaking, but at least it reduces the friction.
(He starts doing his own laundry. Letting the others see how he wets the bed almost daily would be too mortifying.)
Gently, but firmly, Luida gets him to agree to go through some tests. It’s uncomfortable, almost painful sometimes due to how high-strung and tense he is, but they get them done eventually. Plant study isn’t Ship Three’s specialty, many of the files related to Independents are inaccessible to them, but they make do with what they have. Through the use of improvised equipment, they are able to pinpoint more accurately what is happening to Vash.
The origin of his problems, as it turns out, is so simple he could laugh if only he didn’t feel so miserable.
Puberty. The Independent plant kind. His body is changing.
But it’s changing wrong.
“It’s like he’s missing a variable to grow correctly,” one of the scientists aboard says, “like some key chemical elements are necessary, but aren’t present. It may be why he’s in pain.”
Missing elements, a hormonal imbalance.
They try changing his diet, to see if that fixes the issue, but to no avail. They introduce him to some of the species being grown aboard, hoping he would resonate with them as a plant. He feels appeased by the flora, energized even, but the ache in his belly never goes away, never falters in its constant begging for something. It stays, and with it, a deep-seated melancholy he doesn’t understand settles in his heart. A feeling that something is missing, from him, inside of him. Emptiness.
Vash thinks about Nai.
He spends a long time thinking about his brother, longing mixed in with betrayal and guilt. He doesn’t allow himself to cry, not even once, no matter how much his heart screams that something is wrong, that he needs needs needs.
(Nai was always the crybaby between the two of them, anyway. Stoic around Rem, but with big feelings that he would only express when alone with Vash. A show of ultimate trust. A trust that was lost on both sides, after the Big Fall, after that last meeting in the fallen plant carrier.)
He goes nonverbal, can’t bring himself to speak, no matter how much he wants to, his voice stuck somewhere deep in his throat. He hums, still, a strange, melodic sound that he feels deep in his bones. He sings to himself that tune he’s known since birth, the one Nai had replicated beautifully on the piano to accompany him.
Vash sings to the plants, who echo his mournful song with their own, sweeter rendition as if to tell him everything would be alright. He presses his hands and forehead against the glass as his sisters flood his mind with affection, worry, comfort. They’re trying to tell him something, to do something, Vash thinks. But it’s hard to understand specific instructions, with his mind fuzzy as it is.
Go. They tell him.
Half. Go.
Half. Pair. Cannot separate. Go.
He’s not entirely sure what they mean, but even so, he follows their advice. One night, he bundles himself in his big coat and leaves on foot. He has no rations, no water, no clear destination in mind, not even a tomas to get wherever he’s going faster. He just walks, led by a powerful instinct he’s become too weak to ignore.
By the time Nai finds him, he’s dehydrated and starving, and can barely stand on his own two legs. Nai takes him in his arms, envelops him in his warmth. His brother conjures water into his cupped hands and lets Vash drink his fill straight from them, from him. Then, he feeds him fruit, sweet and juicy, and Vash gobbles it up like his life depends on it. And maybe it does, after all.
The entire time, Nai does not speak a word either, answering Vash’s humming with a tune of his own. Vaguely, he thinks he understands now, what his sisters were trying to tell him.
Nai is the missing variable.
The twins huddle inside a small cave, carved into a nearby rock formation. They hold each other tightly, plant markings softly glowing in the darkness of their temporary hideout. They don’t speak, but close as they are, their feelings can’t help but cross over.
Worry, tenderness, anger, confusion, guilt, loneliness.
Love.
But no understanding.
Vash’s coat is discarded to the side, folded up nicely, while Nai’s tattered cape is thrown over it carelessly. Nai isn’t wearing any clothes, Vash notices, though he’s too out of it to feel any sort of embarrassment on his behalf, mind softened by the haze of their strange connection. He’s not exactly naked, but his body is only covered by a thin protective material— his gate, some part of his subconscious supplies, or is it one of Nai’s thoughts? It’s hard to tell, at this point, their minds are in sync, melting into each other, almost merged into one were it not for their wildly different personalities.
Their bodies, so identical when they were small, have become completely different. Nai is a bit bigger than the last time they met, filled out with hard muscle. Meanwhile, Vash developed a musculature of his own, but it is slender, built for speed rather than strength, and that’s not to mention his chest, two small mounds, soft as opposed to his twin’s bigger and harder pecs. Nai’s hands, bigger and smooth where Vash’s own are slender yet roughened from training with his gun, are rubbing gentle yet firm circles around his shoulders and down his arm. Strangely, the touch doesn’t make him recoil like it does for the others. Instead, he leans into it, basks in the attention, in the obvious affection, despite their disastrous last meeting. It feels nice, soothing, but something is still missing.
Vash lets his instincts lead him, presses his front flush to Nai’s, tangles their legs together until they’re as slotted together as they can be, warm and close. He nuzzles his head against Nai’s, humming that calming melody, which Nai immediately harmonizes with.
He needs.
Nai wants to provide, but he doesn’t know what, or how. But he wants to help, wants to give. Vash understands as much from the jumbled thoughts going around both their heads, echoing.
Vash needs.
He presses his core against Nai’s thigh, generating a pleasurable sensation against his aching groin, and the melody putters out. Confusion flows through their link, and Vash realizes with mortification what he’s just done.
It’s not like he hasn’t had thought about…this kind of thing before. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s associated said thoughts with Nai in the privacy of his room, either, despite the soul-crushing shame he would immediately feel afterward. But he’d never expected his not-so-normal feelings for his twin to be revealed in such a way.
Nai looks at the growing horror on his face, expression curious as he tries to decipher the feeling Vash just blasted through their bond.
Powerful guilt, and underneath it…
Lust.
Nai’s eyes widen in mild surprise, his vision of their relationship suddenly turned upside down. Vash half-expects disgust and anger, but it never comes. Instead, Nai looks like he’s thinking, considering something.
And then, the love love love comes back threefold, almost overloading their link. And with it, something tentative, curious. Reciprocation.
Nai’s hands move from Vash’s upper to lower back, sliding to grab his hips. He brings their hips closer again, presses Vash’s crotch harder against his thigh, makes him repeat the earlier movement with strong hands, and Vash whines. Shame bubbles up in him, but he can’t help himself, he ruts against Nai’s leg, rubs his flower against him through his clothes, desperately seeking friction. The material chafes against him, offering too much yet not enough sensation. Electricity courses through his skin, good and bad and too much and not enough.
His desperation must bleed through their link because Nai frowns as he watches Vash rut desperately. He lifts Vash so that he’s straddling his lap, and coos at the whine Vash lets out at the sudden lack of contact right where he needs it. One of Nai’s hands slides from his hip to explore under Vash’s shirt. He caresses the expanse of his stomach, gentle as if handling something fragile, yet each stroke sets his senses on fire. Vash shivers when the hands linger at a specific spot, just under his stomach.
His womb, if he was human.
Vash doesn’t know what he has instead, all he knows is that it’s empty and aching for something. Nai presses on the spot there, and Vash whines. More wetness escapes from his flower, adding itself to the already drenched spot in his pants. Realization flows through their link, and Nai slides his hands underneath the waistband of his loose pants. Then, he stops and lifts his gaze to meet Vash’s fevered one. A question. Vash’s answer is immediate, a quick nod of his head, and the pants are slid off.
Nai manhandles Vash in order to completely remove the cloth, also taking off his shirt and prosthetic while he’s at it, leaving him fully exposed and vulnerable. Instead of replacing him in his lap, he grabs Vash’s coat and sets him on his back atop it. Vash should be at least somewhat annoyed to be handled like this, but it feels right somehow. Not like some kid who can’t do anything on his own, but like he’s being served. Like Nai is devoting himself fully to caring for him.
Like he’s being worshiped.
Nai holds himself above Vash, gently nudging his legs open so he can fit himself between them. He lifts a hand to caress Vash’s face and leans down to press their foreheads together. A comforting gesture. It takes but a small movement to alter it, a slight tilt of their heads to fit their lips together.
The kiss is chaste, sweet. Just another way for them to connect deeply with each other.
But they can connect deeper, they know. They are teenagers, not yet adults but almost. They know what sorts of physical connection they could achieve together. Their biology is different from humans’, so the exact method is yet unknown to them, but their instincts led them to each other. It will also lead them towards that deeper connection. The solution to their loneliness, to that underlying, unexplainable sadness, to that ache. The need to receive, the need to provide.
Their lips part, though only after a small back-and-forth of one twin pulling away and the other following him before they can finally separate. That ache in both their bellies, though in slightly different places, just can’t be ignored anymore.
It’s with an apologetic expression that Nai retreats from Vash’s face, so he can get a better look at the flower between his legs. The petals are folded over each other demurely, yet they leak a light blue liquid that betrays the owner’s arousal. Normally, those would be impossible to force open, petals sturdy and rigid, unyielding. But now, they are soft, relaxed in the presence of Vash’s other half, his comforting floral scent making Vash’s muscles relaxed and pliant.
Nai appraises the lovely flower, adoration and curiosity flooding their bond in equal measures. The last time he had seen his brother in the nude, they had still been children, completely identical in every aspect save for their coloring and the position of their mole. Then, their flowers were almost nonexistent, small petals colored like flesh, folded over each other in a way that made them seem fused to their skin. But now, they had matured, their bodies had grown in different ways. New, unknown, fascinating.
Almost as an afterthought, Nai lets his plant skin fade away, freeing his pale skin from the protective material, and finally exposing his own flower to Vash’s eyes only.
Even folded, it’s clear they are different. The pink coloring is the same, but Vash’s petals have grown much bigger and are covering a larger surface, while Nai’s are shorter, almost smaller than when he was a child.
Vash can’t help it, he reaches out with his one hand toward Nai’s sex. Nai adjusts his position so Vash can reach easier, then holds himself up with one hand placed near Vash’s head. The other trails down to reciprocate the curious touches. Nai feels the brush of Vash’s finger against his petals and shivers at the sensation, foreign, but not unpleasant. Minds connected as they are, their feelings and sensations are shared, but even so he returns the gesture to let Vash feel that shiver for himself, massaging pink, wet softness.
They spend some time like that, hands wandering atop and between softened petals, sighing from the muted pleasure, until, eventually, the pliable folds unfurl on their own, revealing their respective slits. Blooming.
The differences are even more obvious with their sexes fully exposed. Vash’s petals aren’t the only parts of his anatomy that are bigger, his slit is longer also, wider and leaking a light blue liquid. At the top of the slit sits an engorged stamen, not unlike a big, long clitoris. Nai’s slit couldn’t even fit in a finger, its only purpose is to serve as a sheath for his own stamen, the bud of which is already poking out. He hisses as the sensitive flesh makes contact with the air for the first time, already leaking some nectar. Concern flows through their link, but he answers with reassuring feelings. It doesn’t hurt, it’s simply a new sensation he’s not quite sure how to deal with yet.
Vash’s fingers circle the small slit as if encouraging Nai’s stamen to unsheathe itself faster. And it certainly works, the stimulation helping it grow, and grow.
And grow.
And grow.
Vash’s astonishment is felt in their shared consciousness once the massive stamen is fully unsheathed, and Nai breathes a sigh of relief. Looking at them, one wouldn’t be able to tell both their stamens were originally the same organ. Not only is Nai’s much longer, but it is also way thicker. It has layers upon layers of thick, pink petals, giving it a ridged texture, and it ends in another, closed bud.
One thought flows through both their minds :
Will it even fit?
But they are made for each other, so it will.
Nai’s fingers on Vash’s sex, which had stalled as he focused on the feeling of unsheathing his stamen, go back to their exploration. He trails them around the slit, petting the large petals. Vash shudders at the feeling, and the petals react too, clinging to Nai’s hand as if begging him to do more.
And, well, he wouldn’t deny his dearest little brother now, would he?
Driven by instinct and curiosity in equal measures, Nai releases Vash’s petals, earning an adorable whine in response, and slides down. This, unfortunately, puts his stamen out of Vash’s reach but puts his face directly in front of his sweet little brother’s dripping flower. One hand goes to the short, smooth stamen. He rubs it with two fingers, and the effect is immediate. Vash gasps and tenses, flesh hand immediately grabbing blonde hair like his life depends on it. He has half the mind to worry, but the bond tells him not to worry, flooded with surprise, sure, but also pleasure. Nai’s other hand spreads the opening, encouraging more blue slick to slip out. Nai takes some of it between his fingers. As expected, it’s, well, slick. It will make eventual penetration easier, but it’s not enough yet, they need more of it.
So he brings his mouth to Vash’s stamen and takes it entirely in, surrounding it with warm heat. Vash yelps, his trembling grip on Nai’s hair tightening. It’s almost painful, but Nai realizes he…likes it. Yes. Vash can be as rough as he wants, he decides, and Vash’s embarrassment at the thought is immediately felt across the bond. With a smile, he rolls the large bud with his tongue, working him up mercilessly. Below, he slips the tip of one finger inside Vash’s slit. It’s so warm, and wet, and tight. He needs more.
Slowly and aided by the natural lubrication, he slips his finger deeper, and deeper.
And deeper.
Nai is pleasantly surprised to learn that, as Nai is long, Vash seems to be deep.
It will fit.
The shared thought brings a moan out of Vash, who presses into Nai’s mouth and finger insistently. He needs more more more.
And Nai shall provide. He sucks on the bud, making Vash squeal, and slips another finger inside. He pumps them in and out repeatedly, spreading them inside to loosen up the opening. The way Vash suddenly tightens whenever he stretches the rim is enough to tell him he is doing something very, very right.
So he does it again. And again. Adds in a third finger as he sucks on the engorged stamen. Then a fourth. Vash is doing so well, taking almost all of his hand in, he’s doing so, so well. The mental praise seems to be what throws Vash over the edge, because his entire body tenses up, his markings glowing bright, and blue liquid gushes out of him as his mouth lays open in a silent scream.
Nai trembles from the feedback of pleasure he feels over their bond, but does his best to continue his ministrations until Vash’s body loosens up, and he falls in a heap back onto the jacket, breathing heavily.
Nai’s first thought is that Vash’s lower body strength is not to be underestimated. Had he been human, his fingers would have surely been crushed to dust.
(He can’t wait to bury himself inside him. Can’t wait to feel that tight, tight heat squeeze him and milk him until Vash is satisfied and no earlier.)
His second thought, as he takes in the mess of blue all over his face and between Vash’s soft thighs, is: ‘I wonder what that tastes like’.
So, he has a taste. He licks the slick that had landed around his mouth first. It’s delicious, sweet like Vash, and thicker than he’d expected. The moment the liquid lands on his tongue, his head does something funny, and he can feel his sex start to produce more of the same slick.
He needs more.
Like a man starved, he licks his fingers, cleans off his face, and then dives back between Vash’s thighs to finish the rest. Not a drop is wasted, and he can’t help but drive his tongue inside Vash for more. Vash cries, overstimulated, but Nai is unstoppable.
He needs this. So Vash lets him.
He licks deep into Vash, as deep as he can reach to get his fill of that delicious nectar. The drink of the gods, all for Nai, and Nai alone. His his his.
The surge of possessiveness startles even Nai, enough to bring him back to lucidity somewhat. With great regret, he slowly releases Vash, who breathes in relief. He slides back up to gently cradle Vash’s cheek and offer him an apologetic kiss on the cheek. Vash offers forgiveness in the form of a reciprocating kiss on the forehead, then grabs Nai’s chin to guide him back to his mouth. He wants a taste too.
So Nai lets him. Their mouths meet, and Vash’s tongue slides inside Nai’s mouth. He can’t help but let out a throaty moan at the feeling of the invading organ exploring his mouth, tasting his own slick on Nai’s tongue.
Vash takes and takes and takes, and decides he needs more, too.
Switching positions feels natural, then. They roll around so that Nai is on his back and Vash is above him. Then with a playful smile, Vash slides down as well as he can with just one arm, and faces Nai’s dripping stamen. He gives it a curious kitten lick at first, taking some of the nectar in his mouth, letting it flood his mind and body.
Oh. Their bond now floods with understanding. So this is why Nai went wild after tasting this.
Vash opens his mouth and, encouraged by Nai’s hand coming to thread through his messy locks, takes the tip in. It’s big, and he doubts he’ll be able to take the whole thing inside his mouth on the first try, but it tastes divine. He sucks the tip to coerce more nectar out and brings his one hand to take hold of the rest of the large stamen. He can’t surround it with his hand. Heck, it’s even larger than his wrist.
But it’ll fit. They will make it fit.
He doesn’t go gently, and sucks as hard as he can, occasionally running his tongue around the large bud. With his fingers, he traces the thick petals along the length, pressing hard on them to try and make them open, but they remain tightly closed. Nai writhes in a mixture of pleasure and pain but doesn’t complain, just pets Vash’s hair as he takes whatever he needs from him.
Because Vash takes. And Nai gives.
Nai doesn’t gush like Vash did, not for lack of trying, but Vash is happy with the nectar he’s managed to wring out of him anyway. It tastes wonderful. It makes his head all fuzzy, and his core throb with need. Drink of the gods indeed. He can feel himself get even wetter, and were any of them lucid enough, they would surely ask themselves if that nectar perhaps has aphrodisiac properties.
But they’re both a bit too far gone for this kind of thinking.
Vash slides up his brother’s warm body, aided by Nai’s hands on his hips, and straddles him. He lets himself hover over the thick length and stays there. After all, Nai is the one doing the servicing here, Vash only needs to stay and take it. It is a fact they both know, instinctually. They both have their role to play, and play them they shall.
Holding his smaller brother with both hands at his hips, Nai guides Vash’s sex to his. They rub together, let their outer petals slide over together, and cling to each other almost playfully like they’d been looking forward to reuniting. And then, slowly, he presses the tip to Vash’s entrance. Vash inhales in anticipation, but his limbs remain relaxed. Along their bond flows trust and faith, that Nai will keep holding on tight to him, that he won’t hurt him in any way.
Slowly, and easily thanks to their earlier playing around, the bud slips in, and both twins gasp at the feeling. Nai gently lowers Vash, letting more and more of his stamen penetrate him. Deeper, and deeper, and deeper. As it turns out, the initial penetration was the harder step, because he slides in easily once the head has popped in. Vash doesn’t seem to feel any pain…doesn’t seem to feel anything deeper than the opening, actually. Vash’s mild disappointment is felt in both their minds, and Nai’s overpowering shame immediately overwhelms them. Not caring that they’re only midway through penetration, Vash leans over and reaches for Nai. His twin immediately shifts to accommodate the new position, allowing Vash to lay on Nai’s stomach rather than straddle his hips.
Vash brings their foreheads together, a mirror to Nai’s act of comfort earlier. He hums, a sweet melody of love and reassurance. Nai did nothing wrong. Nai is doing so, so good, giving Vash what he wants, what he needs. Nai basks in the open affection and appreciation and gets back to work with renewed confidence. It’s more complicated in this position, but he makes do, not wanting to dislodge his adorable brother. And to make up for the earlier disappointment, he releases one of Vash’s sides to slide his hand between them, rolling Vash’s stamen, earning himself a soft, delicious moan.
Vash sinks lower and lower until their groins are flush with each other, outer petals meeting once again. Then, Nai’s bud presses against something, an entry of sorts, though it is closed at the moment.
They groan in unison. Yes. Yes yes yes. This is it. This is what they need to do.
Nai flips them over so that Vash is lying on his coat, and Nai is right at home between his legs. He pulls out to get some momentum, then presses back into the wet heat, right against his…cervix, or some similar organ. Because now, they both know it, feel it in their bones.
This is the entrance to Vash’s womb, this is what they need to fill.
Vash throws his arm around Nai’s back, holding as tight as he can, and cants his hips. He wants to feel that pressure against his secondary entrance again. He needs it, needs Nai’s nectar inside it, needs to take take take.
And Nai, the wonderful older brother that he is, will give. Anything for Vash. Everything for Vash.
He pistons himself repeatedly inside Vash, making sure to hit that spot straight-on every time, all the while continuing the stimulation on his small stamen. Vash’s moans fuel him like nothing ever has; he wants to hear more, to make his sweet brother, his mate, louder. This is what he was born for, to provide for Vash, to give him his everything; his body, his mind, his very soul. Everything is for Vash. It’s why he—
Nai interrupts his thoughts before they can bleed over into their bond. He can feel some curiosity coming from Vash but now is not the time.
For now, he must give. Must fill Vash, must breed him.
He focuses and drives himself deep, as deep as he can. He presses against Vash’s cervix, forcing breathy moans out of him from each powerful thrust and making him tighten around his length. But it’s not enough, still.
He grabs a hold of Vash’s legs, and folds him in half, his knees almost touching his face. Vash screams. Nai’s bud, hard and pointy, actually manages to penetrate that deep entrance, making him see stars and squeeze Nai in a vice grip. So Nai does it again, and again, and again. Feeling the muscle, and Vash’s entire body, contract around him feels glorious. They are overwhelmed by a feedback loop of pleasure bleeding into their bond and enhancing the sensations tenfold, and then—
The hard petals along Nai’s length open mid-thrust, dragging mercilessly against Vash’s walls. It should hurt, it should destroy him from the inside. But instead, the moment Nai has bottomed out again, Vash’s inner petals open as well. The same size and hardness as Nai’s, they interlock perfectly, stopping Nai from pulling out, trapping him right where he needs to be. Tying them together.
They stay there, breathing harshly, for an excruciating moment of overwhelming pleasure that almost hurts, locked together. Waiting.
And just like that, Nai crumbles against Vash, letting out a loud, almost pained groan. The bud at the end of his stamen, its tip already inside Vash’s womb, opens, and Vash howls. It’s a slow process, forcing the muscle to relax and open, but it does, and the twins can do nothing but hold onto each other desperately as it happens, bodies wrecked with agonizing pleasure. They grab, squeeze, bite. Nai tries to stay gentle, having sworn to himself that he would not harm Vash anymore after having had to remove his arm, but Vash has no such reservations. With his sharper fangs, he bites hard into Nai’s neck, leaves marks all over his back with his nails. And this feels right, somehow.
Nai has given given given, and as a reward, he receives the highest mark of honor: possession. He is wholly Vash’s and no one else’s. Everyone must know who he belongs to, who he was made to serve, to worship. Who he was born for.
Nai doesn’t know whose thoughts those were, but it doesn’t matter. It brings him over the edge, and he comes. He feels Vash doing the same, tight heat contracting violently around him. From the now-open bud, Nai empties himself, gives Vash everything he has, fills his womb with his come, thick and heavy. He hopes it’ll take, but it’s unlikely. They are too young, it’s their first…whatever this is, and Vash is simply too small and frail.
But even so, there is a shared hope floating around their bond. That it will take, that they will have some adorable little seedlings. Beautiful little children, with heads of gold and eyes of aquamarine.
(But they can’t.)
(Why can’t they?)
(Because—)
Slowly, as satisfaction settles in, so does their bond weaken. Despite being physically tied, probably for some time, they start becoming themselves again. Two instead of one. Nai and Vash instead of Nai and Vash. No longer driven by pure instinct.
Nai makes them lie on their sides so he’s not crushing Vash under his weight.
(I’m not that weak.)
(You kind of are.)
He smiles at the adorable pout appearing on Vash’s face. He brings a hand to his cheek, which Vash leans into easily. For the first time in a long while, Nai speaks aloud, voice low and raspy from both disuse and overuse simultaneously.
”…Come with me, Vash.” He caresses Vash’s cheek, threads his fingers into soft hair, rests his other hand on Vash’s lower back.
The apologetic smile on Vash’s face and the regret he can feel in their fading bond is answer enough, but of course, he can’t simply stop at that.
”…I can’t.” Vash’s voice is as raspy as Nai’s, for the same reasons.
Nai doesn’t ask why, doesn’t try to plead. He knows he should, but he’s exhausted. He’s just given his entire self to Vash, body and mind, only to be thrown away after having been used up. A mere toy to discard once Vash gets bored with him. And yet he would offer himself up again, even if it destroys him.
Vash tries to reach out, to call out to him across their bond. To explain himself, to apologize, to quell his dark thoughts. But Nai stops him, a finger over his lips and rejection over their bond.
“Don’t,” he says shakily and crushes Vash in a tight embrace, “just let me have this, at least. Please.”
And so, Vash lets him. They cuddle in silence, basking in each other’s presence, trying to ignore the hurt and betrayal and longing, and focusing only on the love and afterglow.
When, finally, Nai’s bud closes, and Vash’s womb shuts itself tight so as not to let Nai’s seed go to waste (though it will, but it’s a nice thought still), the small petals loosen from each other and go back to their initial place. Silently, Nai pulls out, and both their stamens sheathe themselves. The protective outer petals fold back over their sexes, and that is that.
They redress themselves without a word, Nai helping Vash put his prosthetic back on, and ready themselves to go back their own ways.
Before leaving, Vash turns around and gives Nai a quick peck on the lips. An apology.
The last thing felt across their bond before it closes itself for good as Vash leaves, is deep, echoing pain. Whose it is, neither knows.
Author's note: Nai is a sub dom service top in my heart
"amki I don't think that's a real term--"
IT'S REAL IN MY HEART
Also plant sex is intense and kinda freaky in my heart too, it's my fic I can cram as many fetishes and weird biology into it as I want