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He only agreed if the lights were off.
Even if you gave him all the reassurances in the world, you knew it would do little to quell his insecurities.
But that’s okay, because that means touch would be more sensitive. This would be a chance to really show him how much you care about him. You must make sure he knows you love him no matter what his body looks like, no matter how he thinks what other people would think of his body because that’s his insecurities talking. And you had your own too, so you understood completely.
So, you left him on the bed as you went to shut off the lights. You gave him a gentle smile before flipping the switch, his facial expression seared into your brain. His eyes were excited, his body a bit withdrawn with hesitation, but his lips parted as if to lure you back to him. You padded back over, wearing only an oversized t-shirt over what you had underneath. You stretched your hand out to make sure you didn’t bump into anything and found the bed.
You heard Vash take a shuddering deep breath, and as you kneeled on the bed, your hands blindly searched for him until his hands caught yours. You stumbled a bit, falling into him as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling his body practically vibrate underneath you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous as well, but you had a feeling he might be a tad bit more nervous than you.
Calming your nerves, you pulled back a bit to run a hand down his jaw. “You okay? We don’t have to do this tonight,” you said quietly, your lips against his cheek.
Vash’s grip slightly tightened around you. “No! No, I want this—I want you.”
Heat bloomed into your cheeks, and you felt your thighs clenching at his whispered words. God, he was going to be the death of you. “Me too.”
“I’m warning you, I d—”
You cut him off with a deep kiss, wanting to push back any more self-doubt from slipping past his lips. You’ve told him a thousand times that you didn’t care what he looked like, you just wanted all of him. Even if he wouldn’t take your word for it, you will just have to show him.
“Vash,” you breathed against his lips, and his breath hitched for a second. You smiled, your hands running down his chest, your right hand feeling the metal plates that crisscrossed over his pec. You wanted to kiss over that, kiss his sorrow away, kiss his loneliness away, kiss his pain away. “May I?” you ask, your fingers brushing along the hem of his long-sleeved shirt.
You felt him nod as you were kissing up his jaw. You grabbed his chin, and you wished you could look into his eyes to let him see only adoration and love in your own. “Use your words, lovely.”
His hands found themselves on your waist and he squeezed. “Yes.”
Taking your time in case he changed his mind, you began to lift his shirt. Blushing fiercely, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. You’ve fantasized it about a million times, especially while he was training. There was just something about a man that could do massive amounts of push-ups in a row, his muscles bulging and the concentrated look on his brow. Vash wore that look very well.
He helped you peel off the rest of his shirt and tossed it aside. Your fingers met his skin, and your own breathing stopped as it felt like electricity was dancing along your fingertips with every touch. Vash let out a sigh, and you could only imagine him throwing his head back. This emboldened you. You were not going to waste this opportunity. You loved him so much, you wanted to give him the world. He deserved this.
You gently pushed against his chest, laying him down completely on his back. Leaning down, you began to kiss over his skin gently, feeling the ridges of every jagged scar, every texture that needed to be kissed lovingly. You peppered kisses up his neck and whispered more reassurances in his ear as your hands explored his body, asking if it was okay to go further before going any lower than his chest.
He was now breathing heavily, his skin warm from the heat rising to his cheeks, shaking slightly from the adrenaline of letting someone else touch him. His heart pounded in his ears, and he focused on nothing but your voice and timid touches, appreciating the slow pace you were setting.
His fingers went up into your hair, and he held back tears as you kissed him so carefully, so full of love, because he didn’t think he would ever be so lucky to have someone like you. He didn’t think he could ever have this type of love. He didn’t think he deserved it.
You asked softly if he’s okay and he responded with a soft, “Yes.” Because he’s more than okay, more than ready to give himself to you as you were to him.
Your fingers glided lower, your own breathing ragged as you crossed the line it took so hard to get to, slipping your hand under the waistband of his sweatpants. And when you wrapped your fingers around him, he gasped loudly, arching his back as he gripped onto the sheets tightly. Your eyes widened although he couldn't see, and his reaction was all it took for confidence to surge throughout your body, making you start to pump your hand up and down.
He begged you to slow down a bit, because he didn’t know how long he could last. You smiled, and as you bent over, you felt wetness touch your fingers as you slid up, realizing precum was leaking out. As your tongue hesitantly touched the tip, he gripped your hair—although not roughly—into a fist out of surprise and immediately let go, profusely apologizing since he didn’t want to hurt you.
You smiled widely and whispered it’s okay, you liked it, every breath hitting against the tip of his cock before you took him into your mouth again.
The moan that escaped his lips sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, going straight to between your legs. You closed your eyes as you focused on his breathing, his sounds, his touch. He whispered encouragements, the whining in his voice sending you to heaven, the blush traveling up your neck to your cheeks, proof of your lust, and everything seemed to snap into place.
You moaned around him, your tongue flicking across the head, licking over the veins, his taste heavy on your tongue, and you’re so deep into your pleasure that you were surprised when he gently pulled your head back.
“I can’t … I-I … I’m gonna explode,” he managed to get out.
You could only imagine what he looked like. Maybe his cheeks were completely flushed, his eyes half-lidded, and mouth partly open as you heard him panting. You could only imagine the expression he would be giving you and that only made more arousal pool between your legs.
“Vash,” you mumbled as you turned your head to kiss his palm. “It’s okay. I want you to let go. For me.”
You went down again, and before he could protest, he was writhing against the bed as you took him deeper than before, gagging slightly as he hits your throat but you don’t stop. You suckled on the head, tongue sliding across the slit, encouraging more precum to leak out, and your eyes rolled back as you heard his moans. He’s twitching, gasping, words tumbling out of his mouth and it’s all the warning you get before you feel something warm splash into your mouth.
You pulled back and he handed you a tissue to spit out in before you went back down to lick him clean. His hips twitched, and his hand reached down to cup your face in his hands. “A-Ah! Too … too sensitive,” he breathed out.
You giggled, resting your cheek on his inner thigh and asked if it was any good.
“Better than I could ever imagine,” he said, contentment flowing through his tone as he ran his fingers through your hair. You keened at this, eyes closing as he petted your hair.
You sighed, satisfied, until you felt him moving.
You let out a squeal of surprise as he turned the tables on you, making you land on your back before crawling over you.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said, voice low and husky before he kissed you deeply.