Archive of Our Own

Yeah, coming to this stupid frat party was an awful idea. You aren't having fun, sitting on the couch just chugging down cheap booze to feel something (disgust at the flavor) and try to forget about life.

You aren't talking much with people either, just small chat that ends way too quickly and the other person moves on to something better. As they should. You are too busy trying to get ultra drunk to bother with people.

Then comes this blondie, tall with teal eyes that immediately captivate you. Eyes that have worry plastered all over them.

"Hey, no offense but I think you should stop drinking for now" He sits by your side and oh, being face to face with him, holy shit man where did this guy come from, a dream?

"Wha-" you barely registered his question and raise your cup to take another sip. Before you could do it, he picked it up out of your hands and set it aside, away from you "Hey what are you doin?" You slur out, trying to pick the cup that's behind him now.

“Helping you. Ever since I got here you have been drinking nonstop by yourself, I'm worried for you. Is there someone you know at this party, at least?”

“No, I don' have…” You groan, straightening up your back against the cushion “I don’ need…”

“But you do need and now you have me. My name's Vash. What's yours?” He still looks with concern at you, but more amicable as he introduces himself

You say yours, syllables coming out slurred as you look at his face “... Why are you doing this? No offense”

“None taken” He breathes out in a short laugh “To be completely honest, I just don't want to see someone get hurt. You are completely shitfaced, I don't think you can even walk straight, let alone go back to your place safely”

“... No offense again, why do you even care? It's hard to see someone go out of their way for a stranger”

“Hard but not impossible. Besides, I know most of the people here, at least on a name basis. You are a completely new face in this crowd. You said it yourself that you don't know anyone here. Someone ought to care. And I will.”

You turn your face to him, squinting “... Are you even real?”

“What kind of question is that?” Vash raises an eyebrow, lips tugging into a smile “Yeah, I'm real, do you want to pinch me too?”

You reach out and pinch his arm, yeah okay there's really some guy wanting to play shining knight to you

“.. But you don't have, like, a party to enjoy?”

“Nah, they stopped playing good music, someone took over the bluetooth speaker and is trying to use the party to lift off his SoundCloud rapper career. Shit's boring”

You nod, starting to feel dizzy and nauseous. Shit.

You try to get up in a hurry and run to the bathroom, but you can't even stand up without almost falling. Thankfully the cute blond doting on you has quick reflexes, picking you up immediately.

“Hey, easy, easy. What's wrong?”

“I’m gonna vomit-”

He runs you to the bathroom, the only one in the first floor of this frat house and unfortunately it's occupied, the next best thing to a room for a straight couple getting their rocks off. Great.

Not wanting to make you wait, Vash decides to take you out of the house, to the backyard.

Once out you immediately start puking, forcedly removing the alcohol from your body.

He holds you, keeping you on your feet while emptying your stomach on the grass. The cold night air sends shivers down your body, unconsciously leaning towards Vash's warmth. You didn't even think about it before you realize you're now hugging him. And he doesn't seem bothered by it at all, in fact he hugs you back, pulling away just to clean your mouth with some napkins he found.

“Do you think you can handle climbing up the stairs this time?” 

You weakly nod, as long as he's there you think you can do anything. You're mad hopeful about him, too drunk to realize you're falling for him already. With your luck, do you really think he's gonna stay?

Vash helps you get upstairs, getting inside one of the bedrooms with a bathroom. “Do you want to lay down or do you need the toilet again?”

“Toilet…”

Another miserable round, feeling so clammy and honestly really awful, damn this is kinda the worst meet-cute possible.

Once it's over he's helping you rinse your mouth like your life depends on it, laying you down in bed. He sits on a chair nearby, keeping a caring eye on you.

The needy beast in your heart melts with all of this, yearning.

Whatever, you're already drunk

“Are you single?” You ask, lifting your head from the pillow

“... What?” Vash sheepishly scratches the back of his head “Me? Y-yeah, why?”

“Are you ready to mingle?” You try your best to look at him with a flirting look, a little too tipsy to make it actually work

He guffaws, honestly your heartbeat stops for a second, scared that he's not laughing with you but at you.

But the way he looks back with this unspoken affection and you can see a blush on his cheeks even in the darkness…

“Aren't you a little too drunk for that, though?”

“Then after this?”

He stops, staring back with a small smile “... You want to see me after this, huh?” 

Your reply comes in the form of a nod, moving closer to him in bed.

“Then sure, we can mingle” The blond chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand “But right now you gotta get better, enough for me to take you back to the dorms. Until then, chill. And if you need some water or soda, just ask”

“Well, yeah, some soda would be nice”

“Alright, don't move a muscle. Just relax, ok?” He ruffles your hair before leaving, you stare at the door counting every second he's not in sight. Ah, so drunk, yearning like crazy for him…

He's cute, caring, kind… And it doesn't seem like he has ulterior motives. Maybe-

Ughhhh, headache… Thinking hurts. Alcohol is an anti-thinking concoction. Evil. 

You fall back down on bed, resting your head on a pillow, feeling like the room is spinning. Fuck. Please Vash come back quickly… 

‘And please be true. Please, don't betray my trust’ you think.

There's nothing wrong in wanting to trust, in hoping for the best. Isn't it the basis of any relationship, trust?

You're too drunk to snicker and call yourself foolish for that naïve thought. Just for now, you'll allow this. When you get sober, you'll deal with that.

Vash comes back with a 2 liter water bottle and soda, smiling once he sees you're still awake. 

“You need sugar in your system, water too… Oh, I brought snacks, it's in my backpocket. Can you grab it?” He turns his butt towards you, candy bars sticking out of his jeans. With a giggle you grab them, opening one to start munching.

“We didn't even go on a date and you got me touching your butt already” It's peak comedy for your drunken self

“H-hey, my hands are busy, I'm trying to help…” He's all flustered and pouty, setting the soda on the nightstand so he can pour a cup of water for you both “I'm trying to take care of you” 

That stops your laughter, looking down at your hands, unable to look at him.

“... Thanks, by the way. Thanks a lot…”

“You're welcome” He places the cup of your hands “Now this one you can bottoms up, alright?” 

You chuckle a little, forced. You drink it up, almost wishing the water would wash away this feeling… Maybe your body is already getting sober.

“What's wrong?” He pulls the chair closer to the bed, closer to you, gently grabbing your hand “Is it a headache?”

“... More like a heartache” A sigh, an embarrassed smile

“Heartache…? Why?” 

“Man, I don't know, I don't know shit.” You groan, sinking into the bed “I just… Dude, you saw me throw up like 2 times, what kind of fucked up first impression is that?”

“It's the alcohol, your body needs to get it out. It's fine”

“It's NOT fine, I threw up in front of the cutest guy in this God forsaken party, what will he think of me now?!” You throw your hands in the air, before hiding your face in them. You miss his confused expression deepening (or is it worsening?), the cogs in his brain visibly turning.

“... You mean me?” Vash even points to himself, it would be comical if you didn't want to run to the woods and never come back.

“Y-yeah, you!!!”

“Oh you weren't kidding about that ‘ready to mingle’ line earlier” 

“Why would I, I don't even know how to flirt, I-I mean, ‘Are you single and ready to mingle’? What the fuck is that pick up line?”

“... I found it cute. It's silly.” He shrugs, meeting your eyes this time “I don't think anything less of you, by the way.”

You feel your heart skip a beat and a sudden rush that leaves you overwhelmed. Maybe this rush is born out of fear from rejection… Maybe it's cuteness-aggression. Who knows?

What you know is that you're stuck in place, mouth agape, his words repeating on your mind over and over.

But it's literally just “I don't think anything less of you”

That doesn't mean much.

“... What does it mean?” You sit up and ask it, point blank (as direct as you can possibly get).

“What do you mean?” He quirks an eyebrow

“What do you mean by those words?”

“Which words?”

“You said, just now, that you didn't think anything less of me” 

“Oh, that's about the puking. It's no big deal.”

Ah, great. You lay back down, staring at the ceiling. Neato. It's nothing, you made a big deal out of nothing.

“... You're still a little drunk. Right now, what you need the most is to relax, ok? So don't think too much.” He picks the cup from your hands, filling with water again “Again, c'mon”

Getting up just enough to drink and not give yourself a bath in bed, you do it in one go, handing it back to Vash.

When laying your head on the pillow, you take a deep breath. “I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of being alone right now”

“That's why I'm not leaving. I'm here”

“Don't… Ugh, don't say that”

“Why not?”

“In my language, it means something else. These words hold a lot of power… To my heart it feels like a promise”

“Ah… I think I get it.”

“Sorry I'm so cryptic, I can't shake the disease holding onto my tongue”

The blond chuckles “No, it's okay, I understand. It's born out fear, right?”

You nod

“It's ok. I promise you, tonight, I'll stay by your side and make sure you get back to your dorm room safely. Then, when you feel better… we'll see each other again, this time nobody's drunk out of their minds. I'll give you my phone number and all” He winks, reassuringly holding your hand (you don't even realize he did this, only when he lifts it up to showcase the squeeze). 

“Thank you, so much…”

“I was worried, I thought I was scaring you…” 

“Me? Oh, no, you weren't scaring me, don't worry about it” He smiles, but despite his words you still feel something's off. And he knows you picked on that, too “Seriously, don't worry. I… I'm more scared of me than you, actually. Don't worry about this”

Your honesty (at least the attempt of) rubbed off on him, the blond already feeling like he said too much but now's not the time, he needs to take care of you.

Which is just making sure you don't drink a single drop of alcohol again, a pretty easy task once he gets you out of the crowd full of people that pretend their kidneys are made of titanium. 

“How are you feeling? You want the soda now?” He asks, fidgeting with his own fingers

“Sobering up, I guess… Yeah, the soda would be nice, please?”

“Mhm, sure” Not two seconds and the open cold can is in your hands, you notice from the corner of your eye his leg is bouncing.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask between sips, it seems to bring him back to reality.

“Oh, no- No, I mean, yes, yes, I'm feeling okay, just uh, just remembered I have homework to do” 

“It's Spring break”

“Y-yeah, but it's Spring break, in a week we're back and, uhm, I don't want to let things pile up” Just from the tone of his voice alone it's clear he's lying but you're too busy with your own shit to dwell into that. And also, you want to stay in his good graces if possible, so no prying.

“Sure, I guess you're right about letting work pile up, we shouldn't do that…” that's the best you can say, looking back down at the soda can in your hands.

He doesn't know what's on your mind and neither do you know what's in his. If you could, both, spell it out, maybe things wouldn't be so bad. But maybe it would actually destroy everything; it would spoil the fun of ‘will they won't they’ (isn't that why people like romance media?), reveal that one of you is actually Satan incarnate and going to do something bad to the other (considering all you two hear about relationships, it's what your pattern seeking brains assumes) or maybe you two are just incompatible, in the future you'll wonder what went wrong, if it was you or the other who destroyed maybe the only chance ever of finding true love, then thinking about what, in the universe's big tapestry, would need to happen for the someone to appear in your lives.

Little did you know, Vash is thinking the same things, but more focused on how he is the devil at fault. But even if you knew, what could you do to comfort a restless soul? They told you, growing up, to stay silent when you don't have an answer but silence is an answer in itself, a bitter one you're tasted plenty of times. A bitter meal that doesn't feed a hungry soul.

Whatever. You decide to bite the bullet. Seconds are passing as you try workshopping something, how to start, where it could end, the possible branches, everything, before you could open your mouth he's letting out a long sigh, standing up to stretch his back.

Bite this fucking bullet already, damn it!

“H-hey, uhm, thank you very much” You start, unable to look at him directly, stealing glances from the corner of your eyes “For everything”

He hums, nodding “It's alright, how are you feeling?”

“I-I'm feeling a tad better, yeah…”

“It's getting late, it's time to go back to the dorms… Think you can walk?”

Getting out of bed is easy, but putting your two feet in the ground and then standing up seems nigh impossible, knees made out of jello. He catches your fall, steadying you upright. 

“I guess you can't… but… Wait, lemme try…” Vash lifts you up in his arms, ho boy wait he's this strong??? Shit, with his loose fitting clothes you thought he was rather lanky… “Yeah, I can carry you back.” He grins all proud of himself “Can you hold onto the 2 liter water bottle? Don't wanna leave it here, it was kinda expensive…”

You reach and hug it like a little otter holding a rock. “So cute…” Vash laughs to himself, cooing.

But it doesn't hurt your pride for you to care, after all a charming guy just found you cute.

The party stops so people can whistle and tease about how Vash bagged someone, you absolutely hate it, they're just mocking. He hates it too, head staying low to avoid people's gazes and hide away the blush. Fuckers are not helping, you're the one trying to bag Vash!!! (Wait, is he popular? People know his name… Ah right, he mentioned he knows everyone at least on a name basis. Right, right, social butterfly. Faulty memory)

Once you're out of that stupid frat house, you remember how fucking cold it is in the early hours of the morning (does 2 am count as early hours of the morning? Something to google search when you get in bed). Fuck. He instinctively presses you closer to his body, to share warmth… Maybe this walk back is an untold gauntlet for you to overcome. Like geez… the bare minimum? In this economy? Luxury.

You frown over the concept of ‘bare minimum’, it's really depressing how it feels like winning the lottery when someone stops to listen and care… And actually care, by the way, no ulterior motives.

Speaking of which, part of your scared brain screams over the potential danger he could be. Maybe he could be bad but also maybe he could be good? But the fear of getting hurt first, that moves you to be so paranoid… Fuck, fuck, fuck, stop all that shit. You decide to let those thoughts go, turn off your brain for the night. Just… exist. No worries. Let Vash take you back to the dorms.

“What’s… ugh, what’s your dorm room number?” Vash heaves, struggling to keep you lifted in his arms, getting tired “Shit, I need to put you down, I’m spent” He puts your feet in the ground before collapsing on the entrance hall, scooting to rest his back against the wall

You offer him the water bottle, he takes a big swig out of it like it’s nothing. 

“Geez, you’re strong…” You sit sheepishly by his side “Are you on the football team?”

“What? No, pfftttt” His cerulean eyes roll, shaking his head “What do you take me for, a meat-head?”

“I didn’t say that, I just asked because you’re so strong, you carried me all the way here after all…” You tease him back

“Yeah, and look at me now, breathless. ‘m a pedagogy major, actually. And I’m strong ‘cuz I go to the gym and used to be on the baseball team in high school” The blond takes another swig of that 2 liter bottle “God, my knees hurt…”

“And… What’s wrong with being on the football team, hm? You sounded offended to be called that… Why would a pedagogy major hate the jocks, hm?” You instigate, poking his side with a mischievous grin, getting him to laugh

“Ah, you…Fine, wanna know why? They’re insufferable, they hog the campus’ gym like their lives depend on it, leave it a mess and smelling like a family of skunks fought for custody there. Don’t get me started on their locker room manners, they don’t have any, that place has seen things, if those lockers could speak they’d still be silent.”

It takes a beat before you’re laughing maniacally, feet kicking against the concrete floor. It was funny, but you’re still a little under the influence and high of being with him, his warmth and all.

“Okay okay, easy, you’re gonna wake up the whole campus.” He pats your shoulder

“Sorry, sorry… It was funny…” You're still giggling, hand resting on your stomach

“It wasn't but comedy's subjective, ‘m not gonna judge ya. Now, how are you feeling? Think you can climb these stairs?”

“I'm feeling fine, I think I can do it but…”

Cutting through whatever you're trying to do, the blond deadpans “Don't tell me you want me to carry you” 

“No! Not that, no! I was trying to build suspense, sheesh! I was gonna say that I wanted to spend more time with you!” You find yourself speaking more than you should, regretting a little but ultimately owning it, no need for plausible deniability if his reaction is positive, right?

“Ooooooh, sorry… I mean, sure? Uh, I'm not gonna carry you, but I might as well walk to your dorm room with you, right? And… If we're lucky and you live on the same floor as me… maybe, maybe we can talk more. My roommate is out of town…” Rambling, he ends with a shrug, it's no big deal, also toying the ‘will they won't they’ line.

“yeah, that sounds really nice… So, hm, mine’s on the second floor…” You press your thumb into the palm of your hand, fidgeting with it

“Oh, mine’s on the third… but I think we can compromise, right?” Standing up, he offers a hand “C'mon, it's easier for you to go downstairs than up, we can do this” 

It takes a bit before the gears click into place and you take his hand, blushing. Shit, he's inviting you to his room and he seems to really want you there, holy shit! 

You follow after him, the drunken tiredness turning all filters off, so you look like an eager puppy, stumbling a little on your steps and staring at Vash with this glimmer in your eyes.

If he were to look back at you, maybe that would doom him right then and there. Or maybe he already knows and is hiding his own blush. 

Maybe he's also being really careful with his actions and words to avoid making you uncomfortable or doing anything wrong. You're drunk, tired. The blond wants you to be okay.

Truth is the bloke has been doubting his ability to help the whole night. It took a lot of courage to step up and take the cup off your hands in the first place. “Someone needs to help, someone needs to do something. Fine, I'll be that someone”

His room is nothing fancy, but surprisingly very tidy (the bar is beyond hell here, you have heard of stories that made your skin crawl. Not the time right now though). You look around, a little shy.

“So, ahem, there's the couch, the TV, do you wanna watch anything? I have some food in the fridge, want some?” The blond now turned host is equally struggling, hand scratching the back of his neck while smiling.

You nod, sitting down all prim and proper. It's barebones, nothing fancy, but that doesn't matter to you. The knick knacks though, sharing space in the TV stand, that's more interesting. Books, either study or sci-fi, piled up next to a cowboy action figure all poised up to a fight. It acts as a book separator of sorts, next to a black cat plushie and a gaming console, some games on top of the machine. Mostly shooting games judging by the names, with a lone cute life sim game on top. Huh.

On the coffee table right in front of you there's an ash tray, cleaned, letting you see an intricate cross design on the bottom. Hmm, you didn't take Vash to be a smoker… Nor a Christian smoker for that matter.

He returns with brownies alongside some savoury snacks “I forgot to ask what you preferred, so I got a selection here for you to pick…” Vash smiles shyly, setting it all down the coffee table

“Thank you so much… you're so kind, Vash” It leaves your lips without much thought, grabbing something to munch on

“A-ah, well, you're welcome” He's stuttering on his words, funny how all of a sudden he's the one all flustered. To be fair, he didn't plan that far.

“You're a little hard to believe…” You say it so casually while eating, looking at Vash through the black mirror-esque surface of the TV

“Whaddya mean?” He tilts an eyebrow right at you, pressing against the backrest

“Kindness, man. That's some really hard stuff to find around…” Sigh, shoulders slump

“Tell me about it…” he joins in, mimicking you “It's this paradox, like a joke, it's hard to find in others but so easy to be. But at the same time it is not easy to be because everyone takes you for an idiot and then you feel like you shouldn't be kind, but it's exactly the opposite, it wasn't your fault that people used you- shit, sorry, I'm rambling. Sorry”

“No, no, no, don't apologize, it's totally fine dude. Don't worry about it. You're totally correct on that, shit's fucked, we gotta carry on and be better than them” Your hand reaches out and offers some physical reassurance in the form of patting his shoulder. It's nothing big, you really don't know what to physically do (you're having a hard time on what to say, too). But it's enough, making him turn and smile warmly at you.

“Thanks. You're right, shit's fucked” The blond chuckles “Carry on and be better… It's a good motto to live by, I think.”

“Right?”

“My mom always says, ‘the ticket to the future is always blank’... They're really similar…”

“‘The ticket to the future is always blank’, damn that's a really beautiful, poetic one.”

“I know right? Ever since she first spoke those words, it's been on my mind… I've been picking it apart, pondering about all the meanings… Hell, it's even one of the reasons why I'm doing pedagogy in the first place! The children are the future, teachers ought to be more understanding and caring! But they aren't and it's not fully by choice. The ones trying to be better, they get suppressed, limited. This very system, the way things are, the kids aren't learning, they're memorizing, it's robotic! Things need to change!”

You can see a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks so fervently about the cause, a view that makes your heart skip. It's a little corny, sure, but damn… you’d fight the proletariat’s revolution by his side. Or maybe that would be a bad idea, you're a little too sedentary to be fighting anything besides unhealthy habits. Still… just say the orders, dear comrade… I'd fight for a better future with you, handsome….

“... Comrade?” He raises an eyebrow at you, a confused grin on his face

Oh shit.

“Yeah, uh, you're right. About things needing to change, yeah. Class conscience and- and all that. So, uhm, say the orders, comrade”

Vash explodes into laughter, holding onto his stomach.

You nervously smile, hoping the ground would swallow you whole and lead you back to your dorm room, where you can give your best ostrich impression with a pillow on bed.

But you'd miss the opportunity of having your hair played with by the cute blond, who looks fondly at you, still laughing

“You're one of a kind… Yes, dear cute comrade, we'll fight it together. God, I feel lightheaded…”

“... So it's everything alright?”

“Yes, of course” He pats your head “Cute comrade…”

“Hey c'mon man, c'mon” You cross your arms but it doesn't help your case at all. He's giggling “Can't let people be hearing you, I need to be taken seriously”

“What, your secret is safe with me, I'm really good at keeping secrets” Pulls away with a wink, reaching for another brownie “Don't you worry about it, cutie”

“Maybe the problem isn't others hearing it anymore, it's you winking and calling me ‘cutie’”

“Want me to stop? If it's making you uncomfortable, I'll stop” His mirthful expression is quickly replaced by a serious one, teal eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort 

“W-Wha-” That completely throws you off, staring at him dumbfounded “No way you're a real person. Holy shit”

“... I’m not real because I'm careful with your boundaries?”

“Shit, when you put it that way it sounds really sad” You sink a bit into the sofa, still nervously smiling. He stares at you for a moment with this quizzical expression before speaking.

“Y'know what, I'll give you something beyond the bare minimum” 

Your body rushes with adrenaline the moment he grabs your shoulders, now face-to-face with the blond. Time moves slowly as he presses a kiss on your forehead. A lone, gentle kiss.

Enough to paralyze you, staring at him with wide eyes.

He chortles, the bastard “Geez, that's enough to break you? You have a really fragile reputation”

Do you have your mind, your mental faculties, in order? No. Are you acting on pure adrenaline and therefore impulse? Yes.

You cup his face and yank him into a kiss, right on his lips. It's messy, extremely fast. Once both of your brains register the fact, you're pulling away, startled like each kissed lava or something.

But no. Those big teal eyes, huge, staring at you in awe with his whole face red, even the tip of his ears… And his lips, unsure what to do, trying to mouth any word but his vocal cords don't cooperate, he feels the corners tugging into a smile, if it's genuine or out of nervousness, who knows. He doesn't know.

All you know is that you're mortified and mesmerized at the same time. Apologies slip out of your mouth “Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry-” as you immediately recoil in embarrassment, but desperately wishing he finds his voice and tells you what's on his mind. It takes him a minute, closing his eyes and taking a deep, long breath.

“Okay, maybe we're both not real” He laughs.

“Did I- …. Are you okay…?” You're still retreated back to your corner of the sofa

“Y-yeah, of course. I'm fine, don't worry. You did nothing wrong” His hand reaches out, landing on your shoulder “You, uh, did great, cutie”

“I don't think that's a normal reaction to getting kissed” The nickname gets you acting feisty again 

“Oh here you go” He rolls his eyes “You get all worked up over getting called ‘cutie’, who are you to judge?” You playfully hang your head low “And besides, there's nothing wrong in getting kissed by a cutie! A little messy, yeah, you're acting on raw nerves, so I guess a 5/10 is fair”

“Did you just fucking grade it?”

“Yup” The blond devil grins smugly and (rather quickly) devours another brownie

“So… how'd a 10/10 kiss go?”

“Oooh, that's a showstopping kiss. Emotional, sensual, from the bottom of the heart… one that leaves you aching for more and more” He's rather dramatic about it, gesturing wildly, blowing kisses…

You bite your bottom lip

“Would you let me try again? Maybe see if I can get a better grade?” Putting on your most seductive tone, you bat eyelashes at him, inching closer to his personal space. He snickers but that's it, leaning closer to you, to your face

“Sure, go ahead. Give me your very best” Vash whispers, cupping your face.

It's slow, it's delicate. You actually feel his lips this time; they're soft, a little chapped, but nothing's perfect. He's letting you take charge, happy to be on the receiving end. You swear you could feel his lips tugging into a smile. It's just a normal, regular kiss, but…

“Hmmm, that's good, that's good…” He hums, thumb coming to trace your bottom lip “8.5/10, yeah…”

“Just 8.5? Stingy”

“Oh, c'mon cutie, 8.5 is a really good grade… We don't know much about each other yet, we're tired too, you're still getting better from all that…” He ruffles your hair, giving you a small kiss on your cheek “You're really cute…”

Chuckling, you reach and pinch his cheek “So you are ready to mingle, huh?”

The blond laughs, kissing your lips again

“Fine, you won. You won me over with your charm and cuteness, I mean, look where we are, in my dorm room, laughing and acting all lovey-dovey…. But… Answer me this… how're you feeling?”

“I'm feeling really good”

“No headaches or anything?”

“Nop, your kiss cured me. Like a guardian angel, you scooped me out of that frat party and took care of little old me”

“I'm really glad I did… I'll take you out on a proper date, ok, don't worry about it” Another kiss on your cheek

“I wasn't even thinking about it, I'm too busy thinking about your lips”

He laughs “Oh, that's so cute, so cuuuute. How can I not fall for you, you're impossible… And you're not even tired too, how's that possible?”

“I am tired, I'm just focused on my mission”

“What mission?”

“Going to sleep in the arms of my guardian angel”

“Okay, okay, no, that's not happening, you're still drunk, I'm not gonna take advantage of you like that”

You just stare at him with confusion “What? How would it be taking advantage of me?”

He gestures wildly, trying to figure out what to say before deciding to be direct “Sex! It would be sex, we're not doing that!”

“No, I did not mean that. I don't want to have sex.”

“... You didn't mean… But then…” He physically freezes, jaw hanging low as the cogs in his brain slowly turn, slowly processing your words and their implications (and lack thereof, in some parts). It takes him a little while to finally speak again, voice low and raw, speaking directly from his heart “You want to sleep in my arms… really, really sleep… Do you really consider my arms a safe place? Do you really consider me a safe person?”

“I do. When you carried me, I felt… safe. I liked being held by you. I… I kinda wished it would last longer but I didn't want you exerting yourself too much… Spending time with you has been the highlight of the week, maybe month, I think… So I… Maybe I'm trying to find more excuses to be with you?” You shrug. Cat's way out of the bag, nothing to lose in voicing your feelings.

His reaction is positive, still confused and silent, but he doesn't immediately pull away or turn it down. Vash is considering. Reflecting.

He rests a hand on his chin, staring down at the carpet but it's obvious he's nothing thinking about decor. The guy is processing every single interaction with you, thinking about his life, his trauma, his fears. And… his eyes feel misty over it all. With a deep breath, Vash shakes his head, smiling “You really want to fall asleep in my arms… Alright, c'mon. Let's go to sleep, cutie” Standing up, he offers a hand “We need to figure certain things out first”

You take his hand (familiar sight at this point) “What are they?”

“So uh, I don't really expect anyone to wanna sleep with me, so I haven't bothered to buy a double bed… Yeah, uh, I think it'd be rather uncomfortable to try to sleep and play human tetris at the same time”

“Shit, I only have a single bed too… what do we do now?”

“.... So… My roommate, Nicholas, he's out of town… and he has a queen sized bed in his room.” He sheepishly suggests with a nervous smile “Nico is really rigorous with cleaning so his bedroom is spotless, so nothing to worry about there”

“We're keeping things PG, we won't be getting anything dirty” You shrug, feeling a little devil on your shoulder making you lean into this probably-troublesome behavior. Probably.

“Right, that's what I'm thinking. If we use my pillows and blanket, we won't be using all of his stuff…” Vash embraces it too, a mischievous grin forming “Alright, you've corrupted me, c'mon” He beckons you to follow him to his room, playfully taking a jab at you

“Me??? Corrupt you???” You ask, bewildered, going along “I just wanted to spend more time with you, how's it my fault you immediately thought of using your friend's bed?”

“Immediately no, I considered a lot of options” He lies, you know he's lying because the blond devil laughs “C’mon, help me carry these” You're handed the blanket

“... Hey, uh… You're comfortable with this?” You ask softly, following him to Nicholas's bedroom. Vash pauses, turning to look at your eyes “Yes, I'm comfortable. Are you?”

“Mhm, I am.”

“Everything's alright. You did surprise me with this request but… it's a nice surprise.” He says while removing the bed owner's pillows and blanket, replacing with his own “... I wanna spend more time with you too. Now c'mon” 

He jumps in, fluffing his pillow.

Geez, this is it huh. You slowly climb in, crawling to his side. Getting cozy next to his lanky body. Feeling his warmth.

It takes a while before your body fully relaxes, resting your head on his shoulder. He raises his arm, bringing you to a side-embrace. Yeah okay. Okay.

“Is this fine?” Vash whispers

“Yeah. It is. You're cute” 

“Thanks? Takes one to recognize another” A chuckle, playfully pinching your cheek

“Dude, this is so surreal, I can't believe it” you laugh, swatting this hand

“Heh, you tell me… Hey uh, truth be told? Yeah, I did immediately think about Nico's bed. I'm too broke to buy one like this, sometimes I sleep here when he's out of town. Comfier than mine, y'know? But I never… shared it with someone else, that's a first. If he finds out I don't know if he'll kill me or laugh at me.”

“I can understand why the kill part, but laugh?”

“Oh you understand the kill part huh? You're in my arms right now and you want my roommate to kill me, is that it?” 

“No! Of course not, I don't want that! I mean that I understand why he would be mad at you!” You pull away, defensive. His arm brings you back, giving you a kiss on your forehead to calm you down

“It's ok, it's ok, just joshing with ya. Don't worry about it, m’kay? Let's go to sleep”

“Okay… Good night and good dreams, my frat party angel…”

“Aww… G’night to you too, cutie..”

～⁠ ♡

Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Social Studies student with a minor in Theology.

The dark-haired man climbs up the stairs, chewing on his lip, aching for a smoke. But most importantly, desperately wanting to lay down in bed and unwind, his time taking care of the children living in the orphanage was rather… eventful.

It’s spring break but he had no breaks.

There's a weird feeling on the back of his neck once he opens the door. Quiet. Too quiet. He knows his roommate, Vash is way too lively for this silence.

When he opens his bedroom door, his jaw drops; Vash and someone else, sleeping like two angels, cuddled together.

The dark-haired man takes a step back and… laughs. Snickers, keeping the volume low to not wake you two up. The room is tidy just like he left, just his pillow and duvet resting messily on his desk. So no funny business, apparently.

Did Vash just use his bed to snuggle with his date? Damn needle-noggin', you're something else

They don't even notice Wolfwood, he decides to leave them be; he'll tease the hell out of you both once you're awake.

For now… he'll lay down in Vash's bed.