Chapter Text
“Can I take this off?” Nick asks, his voice barely a murmur in the quiet of the room. He gently tugs at the hem of Vash’s black shirt, peering into his blue eyes cautiously and gauging his reaction.
Vash swallows hard as he fidgets, his flesh hand gripping Nick’s wrist for a moment. He gives it a squeeze before letting go.
“Okay.”
Nick nods and lifts the fabric up, until he’s pulling it over Vash’s arms and head and then tosses it somewhere away.
“What are you doing?” He frowns at the way Vash covers himself, in a futile attempt to hide his scarred torso.
“Sorry just-” Vash squirms, his arms hugging himself.
Nick hates when he gets like that. He understands why that is. Vash has been through hell and back and didn’t come out unscathed. Stronger people wouldn’t be able to endure what he did in his long and lonely life.
But still it gets under Wolfwood’s skin, that insecurity. No matter what he’d say or do it will never leave Vash and he hates knowing he will always think of himself as something unsightly.
“I already saw them.” He points out, hoping it would get Vash to relax a bit.
“Yeah I know.” Vash sighs through his nose and then looks away. “But not like that.”
Well, that was true. Nick saw Vash’s scars in the sewers of Julai for the first time and then on a few different occasions.
This is the first time when he gets to see them in a more intimate setting.
Nick grabs his wrists and pries them away. Vash allows it, doesn’t really resist and lets Nick get a good, proper look.
“I know it's not a nice sight.” Vash’s laugh is forced and Wolfwood’s frown deepens. He flicks Vash’s forehead, making him squawk.
“Stop that.”
Vash rubs his sore spot, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout. He’s momentarily distracted from his self-consciousness and Nick takes his prosthetic hand in his own.
“Do you want to take this off too?”
Vash pauses and wiggles his artificial fingers making them clink softly. Nick squeezes the cool metal in his warm palm. It’s oddly intimate even though Vash can’t feel anything.
“Should I?”
“I'm asking you. Do you want it off? You take it off to sleep so I thought…maybe you'd be more comfortable?”
Vash takes a moment to answer as he ponders the question.
“Wouldn't it look weird?”
“Needles.” Nick sighs. Will they even get anywhere at this point?
“Okay, okay.” Vash tries to soothe his irritation. “Just. One moment.
He feels with his other hand around the place where metal meets flesh. There’s a click and then a hiss when Vash twists the arm and it comes off from his body. Nick has seen him do it a couple of times so it doesn’t surprise him at all.
“Here.” Vash lets Nick take the prosthetic from him and set it away somewhere by the well. He’s being careful with it, making sure it’s propped properly and won’t get damaged.
When he looks back, Vash has his remaining hand wrapped protectively around the stump, trying to shield it from view.
“What now?” Nick clicks his tongue.
“Sorry, force of habit.”
Nick pries Vash’s hand away one more time and then cradles what has remained from Vash’s other arm in both hands.
The flesh around the metal port is red and irritated. Vash should go for a few days without the arm just so he can rest and regenerate.
His thumb rubs along the scarred skin absently, feeling the bumps and ridges of a badly mended wound.
Then he bows his head and drops a kiss above the port.
Vash gasps, earnestly surprised.
“Nick, what-”
“Even if it looks weird so what.” He presses another kiss to the scarred flesh. “It's just you,” he murmurs.
He lets go after a moment and steps closer into Vash’s space, hands settling over his clothed hips, rubbing his thumbs over the jutting bones there.
“Now,” Nick says as one of his hands slides to the front of Vash’s pants and he hooks a finger in the waistband to tug on it. “Take these off too. I wanna see all of it.”
Vash’s eyes are wide with shock.
“All of it?”
He nods without hesitation.
“All of you.”