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All of the king's horses and all of the king's men, they all wanna put me back together again.

Summary:

Xander left a soft peck on Vincent's neck and sat back up, waiting for a reaction.

 

No reaction other than Vincent peeking through his fingers, so he continued, peck by peck traveling up his throat, reaching his jawline. Xander carefully pried Vincent's hands away, and continued his attack of affection.

 

"Where's the god you so begged to stop this?"

 

Mood swings, religious trauma and affection really don't fit together well without toxicity.

Notes:

I wrote this a while ago and decided to post it just now

This is basically a fanfic of my own story so uh yeah

Enjoy the slop

Work Text:

"Am I allowed to?" Vincent asked unsurely, standing at the edge of the bed as he picked as his arms.

 

Xander glared at Vincent, repeatedly patting the spot next to him on the bed. He seemed serious enough for Vincent to finally lie down.

 

"I, uhm, tell me if I'll take too much space, I'll move-" Vincent was interrupted by Xander pulling him closer, pressing the elf against his body, completely discarding whatever Vincent wanted to say.

 

"Be quiet, Vince. You know damn well I would love to have you here." He combed one of his hands through Vincent's hair. The gesture left Vincent flinching, followed by confusion and baffled widening of eyes.

 

"You flinch every time I touch your hair. Would you like me to stop?" Xander asked, stopping his hand to simply rest his palm on Vincent's head.

 

"No, continue like that. Just, don't pull, please."

 

The arachnae nodded, twirling a silver strand of hair around his finger. "Your hair is so well-taken-care of, Vince; it's soft, like a pheasant." Vincent looked away at the compliment.

 

Perhaps it was once again Vincent's imagination, but the actions initiated by the other caused a fluttery and fuzzy feeling in his head. It felt nice.

 

"May I kiss your hair? And if not, may I put my hand on your cheek?"

 

"Xander? Why are you asking me such questions.." Vincent muttered in a flustered tone. Xander didnt reply, so Vincent answered, "No... but go ahead for the second one."

 

"Aw, and I was hoping I could get a kiss. Fine, I'm happy either way." Xander put one of his calloused hands on Vincent's cheek, gently stroking the soft skin with his thumb. The skin beneath his hand rose in temperature, and the olive eyes beneath his gaze closed so they wouldn't have to face the embarrassment from such treatment.

 

After a short while of no change, Xander carefully sat up and pulled Vincent along with him, letting the elf lean his back on him. "Vincent?"

 

"What is it?"

 

"Are you cold?"

 

Vincent nodded, not bothering to lie about that.

 

"May I take your sweater off? I would like to warm you up."

 

"Eh?" Vincent turned his head around, staring at Xander with wide eyes, and bright red ears.

 

"You know I can heat up my body using magic, so come on, cuddle me. Warmth won't come through a sweater."

 

Vincent blinked, stuttering incoherently for a moment before he gave up and simply raised his arms, his eyes squeezed closed in embarrassment. Xander understood what he had to do, and pulled the sweater off Vincent himself, revealing bandages and bandages and even more bandages, and.. scars. An entire back covered in scars and wounds.

 

"...Do not stare, please," Vincent whispered, lowering his gaze and slouching over.

 

"Can I touch your back? Or any part of your torso for that matter?" A nod as a reply followed. "I'll trace your scars, I promise I won't hurt you."

 

A quiet sob broke Xander's heart as he carefully put his hand on the other's back. He didn't trace the scars. He simply trailed his hand up and down the spine, stopped at the shoulders and traced his way down to Vincent's collarbone.

 

"What are you," Vincent spoke with sobs interrupting, "Doing?"

 

"Affection. You need it. May I continue? You're trembling."

 

A dam broke down and Vincent cried. The elf tried to stop the tears in shame, yet the second they held back, Xander hugged him, which caused them to flow more and more. Xander's six arms were comforting to be held in, especially if they were warmed up.

 

"Shh, you're fine, Vince. You can cry if you want to. I'm here for you, dear."

 

In the next twenty minutes, Vincent calmed down and requested Xander to continue holding him. Xander gladly obeyed and pressed a sweet peck on Vincent's bare shoulder.

 

"Don't do that..."

 

"Why? Do you not like it?"

 

"No, but it's a sin—"

 

Xander kissed his shoulder again. And when Vincent tried to tell him to stop again, he kissed the nape of his neck. He wanted an actual reason to stop, not the religion which both he and Vincent knew was bullshit.

 

Vincent gave up after roughly eight attempts. He said himself, "I'll pray for us both once you're done," and closed his eyes.

 

"Why don't you pray now? Won't the prayer stop this?" Xander was pouring salt over a sore wound.

 

Vincent clenched his fists and pulled his knees to his chest, not giving an reply to the brunet. Instead, he whispered prayers under his breath in an unknown to Xander language. Xander patiently waited until he finished his prayer.

 

The elf sighed and clenched a fist around his necklace, waiting for nothing once he spoke the last word of his prayer.

 

Xander pressed a softer kiss to Vincent's neck. "And did your god help? Did He hear your prayer? Did He stop whatever this is?" He asked.

 

Vincent didn't answer for quite a while, until the peer pressure of silence forced him to say, "You force me to go against my beliefs for this."

 

"I'm not forcing you, Vince. You can say no, or move away, just don't say that it's because of your god. I want an honest no from you if you don't want it. Not because your god doesn't like it."

 

Vincent didn't move, or speak at all. He waited for anything from a deity he believed to exist. Xander waited with him, keeping his hands off the other. They sat at least five minutes until Vincent let out a sob again. He composed himself, not daring to look at Xander.

 

"Were your prayers ever answered, Vince?"

 

No reply other than shaking his head.

 

"Huh. I wonder why," Xander said with a clear sarcastic tone.

 

"Just, go away, please, I cannot handle this. You're staring at me with disgust and I can hear it in your tone-"

 

"Disgust? Oh, Vincent. No, not disgust. Never. I won't go away. I wouldn't want to leave a friend again. Especially not the one I love." He hugged Vincent, pressing his cheek against his shoulder blade.

 

"Then why are you not believing me?"

 

"About what?"

 

Vincent gave up and leaned his head back, tilting it up until it rested on Xander. "Go ahead. Kiss me. Touch me. I know you want to. Every man does. I'll forget it anyway-"

 

Xander put a hand over Vincent's mouth, and didn't do anything else. He spoke in a whisper, "I don't want to unless you want me to. I'll be happy if you let me hold you in my arms or play with your hair, not when I'll bring you pain. And I'm sorry."

 

Silence. A lot of silence, heavier than arsenic. Multiple different croaky birds were cawing outside, but they didn't matter. The blanket on the bed was pushed away to the wall, Vincent's legs were hanging off the bed, and Xander let him lean on him. The position was comfortable. The silence and the topic weren't.

 

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Vincent asked quietly, his voice merely a squeak.

 

"Do you want me to do anything?"

 

"Depends."

 

"On what?"

 

"Whether it's something nice or..."

 

"You can tell me what you would like, I would probably do it."

 

"I don't know what feels good. I only know what's bad."

 

"Are my hugs bad?"

 

"No."

 

"What about my hands in your hair?"

 

"No. It's only bad when you pull."

 

"And kisses?"

 

"I'm not talking about them."

 

"See, then I can play with your hair and hug you for now." Xander wrapped his arms around the silver-haired boy and tightened his hold, and his upper arms gently carded through Vincent's hair, careful not to tug on any strands.

 

The pressure from the warm four arms were comforting, and the way Xander massaged Vincent's scalp he would fall asleep if not the constant reminder that he isn't fully clothed.

 

"Don't you feel disgusted looking at me? My entire back is covered in scars, and you can't even see my arms, or any part of my upper body for that matter, it's all covered in bandages. And my ribs stick out from under my skin, it must look horrid."

 

"I don't mind your body, Vince. I am worried about how thin you are, though. The bandages on your arms aren't bothering me. I can tell that you need them, they're soaked through with blood even if the bleeding was supposed to stop long ago from when Dorothy brought you here."

 

Vincent nodded in acknowledgement, tracing his fingers over the bandages on his arms. "You are warm. It must be useful to warm yourself up in the winter during nighttime when it's cold."

 

"I can warm you up too?"

 

"Please do."

 

Xander raised his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting an honest response to his teasing.

 

Vincent realized his mistake and immediately corrected himself, "I meant please don't."

 

"Liar. You would be purring right now, if elves could purr, from the warmth of my arms." Xander grinned, nuzzling his nose into Vincent's hair. It smelled nice, and was soft against his face like silk.

 

Vincent traced down his own arm to one of Xander's hands, his fingers gliding over each knuckle as he requested incoherently, "Could you kiss me again, please?"

 

"Hmm? What did you say? I didn't hear you," Xander genuinely asked, raising his face from the hair.

 

"Nothing, I didn't say anything."

 

"Wrong, either you tell me or you get tickled until you do."

 

He was taking advantage of Vincent's ticklishness, and he knew it and was proud of it, just as proud as he was when Vincent squeaked out, "Kiss me again, please."

 

"Aw, is Vincent finally warming up to my affection? Where do you want me to kiss you? Hm?"

 

"Anywhere..." Vincent murmured, covering his face with a hand. He was shy when it came to being soft and being faced with softness.

 

Xander chuckled, and turned Vincent around, carefully pushing him down onto his pillow so he would face him. He sat beside him, but soon he was straddling Vincent with his knees on either side of his hips. "Tell me if I'm too heavy, I wouldn't want to crush you after all."

 

Nodding, Vincent covered his face with both his hands now. He was flustered to the point he wouldn't even attempt to form a sentence, especially not when Xander leaned down and rested his forehead against his collarbone. His heart beat faster against his bandaged ribcage, and he was expecting something rough and painful, something he was used to.

 

Xander left a soft peck on Vincent's neck and sat back up, waiting for a reaction.

 

No reaction other than Vincent peeking through his fingers, so he continued, peck by peck traveling up his throat, reaching his jawline. Xander carefully pried Vincent's hands away, and continued his attack of affection.

 

Vincent wouldn't mind if he could fucking breathe. Both because he was holding his breath and his chest was drastically bruised by tight bandages flattening his chest. His ears were burning red by the time Xander stopped for a second, his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed and an unstable smile played on his lips.

 

"Where's the god you so begged to stop this?"

 

"Mph." Vincent frowned.

 

"See? You don't want me to stop, you're just afraid of something that ignores your prayers."

 

Vincent opening his eyes and glared at Xander, trying his best to tell Xander to continue kissing him. Xander obviously caught on even without the intense stare, and continued peppering kisses all over Vincent's face, avoiding his lips and hair and ears as he did so.

 

"Your smile looks adorable, Vince. You don't have to hide it now."

 

"I prefer not to. It's hard to hold a smile for me. I'm not hiding it. I apologize."

 

"Really? Well if that is true, relax your face at least, your eyebrows are always furrowed and you are constantly frowning." Xander chuckled, sitting back up. All of his hands were on Vincent's torso: waist, shoulders, throat, stomach, collarbone, even a hand right in the middle of his chest, just hovering so it wouldn't reopen "wounds".

 

"You can't keep your hands off me, can you?" Vincent murmured, carefully removing Xander's hands off his body one by one. He relaxed his face, and looked tired. Not serious like he always does, just exhausted and maybe a bit flustered.

 

Xander chuckled, and put his hands on Vincent again every time he pushed them away. "You can tell me to stop if it bothers you that much." He put his face right under Vincent's chin, pressing his cheek against his throat. It was way more comfortable with the soft skin and lack of an Adam's apple.

 

Vincent suddenly questioned, "Am I out of my mind? Why am I letting you do all this at all? Why did I let you kiss me?" He sounded regretful. And afraid. His eyes dropped to the boy snuggled against him.

 

Never mind. He sighed, understanding why he let Xander do all that. Yet the understanding made it even worse. He was afraid of the very thing he felt—love.

 

Vincent looked around the room in a panic, already raising his hands to his hair, only to be stopped by Xander gently grabbing his wrists with two separate hands. "Don't even think about ripping your hair out again, Vince. And your heartbeat quickened, is something wrong?"

 

The elf couldn't answer, he physically couldn't reply, he wasn't able to force his vocal chords to speak words. So he simply stared like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

Xander's middle pair of hands gently trailed up and down Vincent's sides, a sigh escaping him. "What am I ever going to do with you, Vince? You fear each sound and touch, and the next day you forget your fear until you feel it again." He nuzzled his face into Vincent's neck, inhaling the slight scent of perfume. He put the pale hands into his curls, a soft smile appearing on his face.

 

"I forget everything. I'm sorry. I forget everything no matter what. I forgot the faces of my family, and their names, and the sound of their voices. I forget to eat and drink and sleep. It's simply a matter of time and I'll forget everything, including Dorothy, you, and myself." Vincent's voice trembled, and his hands were desperately playing with the brunet's curls to distract themselves.

 

Xander raised his head, his eyes wide with an unreadable expression. He looked scared, or worried, maybe concerned.

 

Vincent couldn't bear to look into the gorgeous eyes when they held so much fear. Tears fell down his cheeks as he spoke,

 

"Promise me you'll stay when I eventually forget my name."

 

The man stayed silent, his eyes drooping in a sad manner. He couldn't promise that. He knew he couldn't. It would be a blant lie. He left all of his past friends due to stupid reasons. One angered him too much, the other drew over his favorite drawing.

 

"Please," Vincent begged, his pupils shaking as his hands grabbed fistfuls of Xander's hair, "Please promise me you'll stay when I eventually forget my name. Please."

 

"I-I can't, Vince, I'm sorry, I can't promise-"

 

"Xander, please, I'll crack my skin open and pour my blood over you if you don't."

 

"Vincent—" Xander tried to stand up, yet he couldn't due to the hands in his hair keeping his head in place.

 

"I'm out of my mind, I know, but Xander please. Look at the marks. Look at the marks right next to my heart. Tell me you'll stay. Don't leave me like I did leave my family. You shattered my mind one thousand times already. I'm broken and yet somehow, I'm still alive." Vincent cried, desperately trying to keep Xander close, not wanting him to leave. Despite the drastic difference in strength, when Vincent panicked he had strength more than a hundred men.

 

"Please, don't leave."

 

"I'm sorry, I can't promise not leaving in the future, Vincent, I'm sorry—"

 

"Then stay now! Stay as long as you can! Promise me you'll stay as long as you can handle! I know I am insane, but don't leave me yet! Please! You're the first thing I want to see when I forget anything, when I'm afraid or whenever I feel anything at all!"

 

Xander stopped trying to pull away. That was something he could promise. "I promise that. And I won't leave you now, Vincent, just please calm down. Mania doesn't look good on you."

 

Vincent's pupils were abnormally dilated, shaking the same way his hands shook and twitched. He felt hot, sweat beading on his forehead and under his bandages. And yet he still didn't let go of the warmest thing in the room—Xander. Warmer than the candle flames on the desk opposite to the bed. He could overheat once his breath shortened, and he sat up, pulling Xander's head back by his hair.

 

If only he had multiple pairs of arms. He hugged Xander with one arm, the other one holding him by his hair, and wheezed against Xander's shoulder, panicking for no exact reason he could've pinpointed.

 

"Vincent, could you let go off my hair? I'm not a dog—" Xander abruptly stopped speaking once Vincent choked on his own saliva. That wasn't the usually composed and elegant elf he knew. That was a maniac with the best pokerface to ever exist. Vincent attempted to take a deep breath, trying to even our his breathing, and his hand slowly untangled itself from the curls.

 

He calmed down quicker than expected, and as he did so he pushed Xander away almost completely, he even ended up on the opposite corner of the bed. He felt so guilty, and yet he couldn't speak. He would've apologized, begged for forgiveness the same way he did with his god, but his throat closed up every time he wanted to speak.

 

Xander didn't take much time to move closer, silently stretching one of his arms out to Vincent. It was an invitation. To what? That was still under question.

 

Vincent stared at the palm, and hesitantly took it into his, intertwining their fingers in a hope that it counted as an apology. It didn't.

 

The intertwined hands were soon resting on the bed next to the two. The silence was unbearable, but it was better than a conversation. Vincent started picking at his skin again, scratching his stomach and his arm through the bandages and dug his fingernails under his skin. 

 

Xander quietly took Vincent's other hand too, putting it on his shoulder instead. The hand quickly made its way deep inside the curls. He sighed, staring at Vincent with a heavy gaze, which nearly showed tears.

 

The elf didn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to scratch the guilt out from under his skin, or tear it out along with his hair. And yet his hands were busy with Xander's presence. It's like everything was against him now. Especially his own voice.

 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking and revealing an even more feminine hint.

 

"I hope you are. If you really are, then.. I'll probably forgive you. It's just... You..."

 

"I know I was out of my mind. I still am. You should be cautious of me."

 

"You aren't a monster to be cautious of, Vincent."

 

"Am I not? I can tell you're afraid."

 

Xander stayed silent. He took the intertwined hands towards his face, untangled his fingers from Vincent's and carefully held the hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss over the knuckles. "Everyone would be afraid if their... friend nearly tore out their hair."

 

"Friend?"

 

"I‐ Yeah, friend."

 

The two "friends" sat afterwards in silence, sometimes interrupted by Xander kissing Vincent's hand, or Vincent trying to discreetly move closer to Xander. He failed and was pulled into a tight hug against Xander's chest. The hands keeping Vincent in a cage of warmth carefully explored his back, tracing every scar with feather touches.

 

"Vincent, why are you wearing bandages where you didn't get strong injuries? I can't recall you damaging your chest or your arms so badly any time before."

 

Vincent tensed up. That was another of his fears. He couldn't tell Xander about the way his blade pressed against his skin, or what ugliness hid underneath the bandages on his chest.

 

"Vince?"

 

"I don't want to talk about it."

 

"Did someone else hurt you? In Carnes maybe?"

 

"...No. I simply don't want to speak about it."

 

Xander sighed, pulling away from Vincent to look at him properly. Vincent had his eyes dropped in shame. A kiss oh so soft was placed on top of Vincent's head, and afterwards Xander carefully motioned for Vincent to show his wounds.

 

Vincent shook his head.

 

"Come on, maybe I can help with them with a healing potion. And disinfect them, infections on your chest are a serious matter."

 

Vincent shook his head, his gaze still low.

 

"Why not?"

 

"It's ugly. And horrid. And you'll hate me for it. And it's disgusting. Everything about my body is monstrous."

 

"Hey, Vince, don't say that. I love your hair for example, or your eyes, and your height—even though it intimidates me a lot—and basically everything."

 

"But you never saw what's under the bandages."

 

"That's true. But Vince, I'm worried. I don't want your wounds to go untreated." Xander looked at Vincent with pleading eyes, clearly expressing his concern.

 

Vincent shook his head, and wrapped his arms around Xander.

 

"God you are stubborn."

 

"I'll only let you look at my arms. And only if you promise not to speak about it. Or mention it. Or look at me with disgust because of it."

 

"Of course. I wouldn't ever look at you with disgust, Vince." Xander wanted to kiss Vincent's cheek but held back, showing a smile instead.

 

"Bring out your medkit, then..." Vincent murmured, reluctantly letting go of Xander. He waited for the sting in his heart when Xander would yell at him.

 

Carefully unwrapping the bloody bandages, Xander discarded them onto the floor as the art of cuts revealed itself beneath. His eyes were wide. And his hands trembled more with each inch of cuts they revealed.

 

Vincent silently watched, escaping all eye contact as much as he could. His finger twitched, and he once or twice winced from the way the bandages stuck to the blood.

 

"I-" Xander started, but couldn't even stutter out a single word once both of the arms were uncovered. Every single part of the forearms were cut. The cuts rotated all around, each square inch of skin had at least seven lines dripping either blood or oozing a weird yellow-ish fluid. He stared, inspecting the skin. "V-Vincent, what.. what happened?.."

 

Vincent didn't answer. The answer was already obvious. His expression was blank, but his voice cracked at every syllable, "I hoped you wouldn't hate me for this."

 

"I, Vincent, I wouldn't hate you.. Just.." Xander whispered, his hands still trembling, shaking even. Nothing would've prepared him for something like this. Not when whatever Vincent is to him has their flesh shredded by their own hands. "Just, why?.."

 

No response. Vincent just wanted this to be over.

 

Some of the wounds were fresh, some scabbed over and some were scars, and yet they all layered over eachother like a mosaic. Xander tried his best to treat them properly without causing too much pain. His own eyed teared up when he thought too much, so he had to lean away pretty often, so no tears would land on the bloodied arms.

 

Both of them were cowards. Vincent was afraid to show them. And Xander was afraid to confront them.

 

Gently wrapping bandages with enough pressure, Xander stared disoriented at the body in front of him. He wondered what could be worse under the bandages on his chest than those on his arms. Those weren't bloody at all compared to the ones on the arms.

 

"I'm sorry." Vincent broke the silence. He kept his eyes glued to his hands, which soon were held by a pair of arms.

 

"Don't, uhm, don't apologize, Vincent."

 

"But—"

 

"Listen, dear, just.. please tell me next time you.. uhm.. you know.. I'm.. I try to always be here for you.."

 

Vincent finally looked at Xander. He looked guilty; Vincent did, and so did Xander. Xander's hands traced Vincent's knuckles, before bringing his wrists up to lightly kiss the bandages. The motion was so symbolic, it truly was a shame Vincent didn't understand such things.

 

"Vince. I would never hate you. Not for something like this."

 

"But you don't even know every part of me. How could you tell me that you don't hate me when you never saw what's inside of me? I'm insane, I'm not someone to love."

 

"Mmm? Not someone to love?"

 

"Yes. I expect the worst of everyone. And if it doesn't happen I get attached and then something happens and then I'll once again blame myself for being so stupid so I suppose I'm not even close to being lovable."

 

"Have you ever met a lovable person?"

 

    If he thought about it, not really. If I had to say it, then yes he did.

 

"No. Not really."

 

"Do you want me to prove that someone can love you?"

 

Vincent glanced up at Xander's inviting smile. Under being loved, he automatically assumed being owned and being hit. He was horrified at the idea, so he shook his head.

 

"Why not? Dorothy clearly loves you, she really sees you as her bestfriend. And uhm.. I.. Never mind. Simply know that you are lovable no matter what."

 

Dorothy? Loves Vincent? That sounds like a lie. She doesn't try to hurt him (with the exception of sometimes hitting him, but she does that with everyone) like the books at the castle explained love to be like.

 

"Are you sure she loves me?"

 

"It's obvious she does. Are you thinking of something else? Does love mean something else to you? Could you describe love for me, Vince?"

 

"Uhm. Love is when uhm.. a person has full rights over another and can do whatever they want with them? Especially hurt?..."

 

"Vince? That's far away from what love is..."

 

"What is it then?"

 

Xander blinked. That elf in front of him was clueless about such a simple thing. "That isn't something I can explain, Vince, it's different for everyone," Xander responded.

 

"How is it for you?" Vincent asked, tilting his head just a tad. He pulled his hands back into his lap, fidgeting with them restlessly.

 

"How is it for me? Oh. Uhm. Well. When I, uh, love someone? I guess? I feel a fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever they touch me, or when I get to touch them. Just lightly, maybe holding their hand, or hugging.. And I want to spend all my time with that person and I can't stop thinking about them. And I get really warm in the face when they are too close. I like the feeling, it's just hard to keep for me. Normally the feeling stops for me after a couple days, but this time..."

 

Vincent intently listened. He compared the things Xander listed to what he thought love was. This one sounded like a sickness.

 

"It's pretty nice to feel, but if the person doesn't love you back, it might sting just a bit." Xander said the last part with a disappointed hint in his tone.

 

Vincent questioned Xander, leaning in a bit closer, "Do you love anyone right now?"

 

No matter how much Xander thought about it, it all came towards the same answer: he should answer honestly. "Yeah. I do."

 

"Who do you love? Maybe I could help you find out if she loves you back... I don't want you to be hurt."

 

"It's not physical pain, Vince. And... uhm. God, you really are oblivious. I'll ask you something first. What did all that just mean to you? I mean, the hugs, or maybe my hands in your hair, or the kisses all over your face?"

 

Vincent's ears flushed red, and he averted any eye contact once again. "They were enjoyable, I guess. Not terrible.."

 

Xander's lack of response forced even more out of Vincent, "Maybe nice.. your hands in my hair are relaxing.."

 

"What would you call that?" The response to that question was, "I don't know. Friendship? Although I don't know what that means, I never really had friends."

 

Xander exhaled in relief, and then pinched his nose bridge. He stretched, raising all his arms up, his clothes slipping up a bit to reveal his stomach. "You prayed for "friendship" to stop? Seriously?"

 

"Well.. that between two men is.. a.. sin... Oh."

 

Oh.

 

Oh.

 

"Yeah, so uhh, about your question on who I love..."

 

"Is it me?" Vincent asked bluntly.

 

Xander leaned back onto the bed, easily folding his body over his knees like it's nothing. A groan escaped him as his upper arms covered his face. After a while of silence, he gave a nod. It nearly went unnoticed, but Vincent immediately caught it.

 

"I'm sorry, I know it's a sin to you. If you want me to, I can suppress all that... just don't leave me for it. At least stay for Dorothy..."

 

"I was the one begging you to never leave me."

 

"Yeah, but you were out of your mind. And I'm.. simply confessing whatever this is..."

 

"I'll stay. Not because of Dorothy. I never planned on leaving you anyways."

 

"But isn't it a sin? Like you could burn me at the stake for this."

 

Vincent blinked, and moved, he approached Xander and sat down next to him. Then, to Xander's surprise, he gently played with his curls, twirling them around his finger, or maybe tugging them out to look how the strands would looks like uncoiled.

 

"...You don't believe in no god. I don't think sins matter that much to you. You are a thief, you don't follow rules, and then.. this. So why do you worry about that?"

 

"I don't want to be a sinner in your eyes, Vince."

 

"Even I'm a sinner to me."

 

"You're the most holy person I know."

 

"And yet I asked for you to kiss me."

 

"You don't really know what loving is. And those kisses meant nothing to you."

 

Vincent sighed and leaned down. "Well, now I do know. No?"  He pulled Xander's hands off his face as he crawled over Xander. Now the tables have turned and Vincent was on top, his knees on either side of Xander's hips. The arachnae's lower pair of hands immediately went to hold Vincent's thighs. It burned but Vincent didn't mind. He leaned even further down, now able to count Xander's freckles which normally are never noticeable.

 

"I love you."

 

He whispered sweetly, and kissed Xander on the cheek.

 

It wasn't extreme like a harsh kiss which had tongues tangled. It wasn't something a normal person would expect in such situation—which normally would've been a kiss on the lips—or something like that. And yet, it was the best kiss Xander ever experienced. A kiss from Vincent. The man who was afraid of a hug kissed him on his cheek.

 

A rosy tint spread quick over Xander's cheeks, and up his neck too. Vincent stared at the sight under him. Flustered Xander was definitely a sight to see, with his eyes trying to look away, but always returning back towards Vincent and his hands getting all fidgety.

 

"Y-You don't know what it means..." stuttered Xander out in a squeak.

 

Vincent leaned down once more.

 

"I love you."

 

He kissed him on the tip of his nose. The second Xander protested again, he kissed the other cheek.

 

Xander gave up. He replied, "I love you too."

 

Vincent tried to smile, and kissed Xander on the lips.