Chapter Text
Love doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep loving anyway
We laugh and we cry and we break
And we make our mistakes
Miles from any settlement large enough to be called a town, Vash lay face down on the dirty linoleum floor of an abandoned electric station. He hadn’t meant to end up there, but something drove him that direction, a force he could not name. The stop at the electric station was unplanned, not where he needed to be, but where his body had simply given out.
Empty.
That was the only way Vash could describe the feeling within him—like he craved something to fill him and he might die without it. Perhaps this was what hunger felt like, a pit inside that demanded all attention be paid to it. He might enjoy eating, enjoy the comfort of the act and the taste of sweets, but he had never felt hungry the way others described it. Perhaps he did now though.
How long had it been since Vash had eaten? Weeks? Months? It wasn’t a necessity and Vash didn’t have much money to begin with, so food was often pushed to the bottom of his priorities. He wouldn’t steal from people who needed it, so he often simply went without. He had done his best to push the temptation from his mind. Hunger, if this feeling was indeed hunger, was a terrible thing, Vash decided. If this aching emptiness was hunger though, maybe it meant he did need to eat after all, just much less often than humans.
If his brother was here, Knives would mock him for sure.
Hungry like a human, brother? Vash could imagine Knives sneering. You love them so much that you wish to consume the way they do? To take and give nothing back to the world?
Vash’s desire to eat had always been a point of contention between them, though Vash had never truly understood why. Perhaps it was simply too human for his brother’s tastes; too much of a reminder of how different and below him Vash was. Knives created, could make beauty and life whenever he wanted. Vash only knew how to take, and had never been able to give back as much as he wanted to.
Vash shivered, feeling hot and cold at once. It was like he had been set on fire by flames made of ice. Perhaps he wasn’t hungry at all. Perhaps he was simply dying.
Fire cleanses, he thought, words floating by his mind in an almost dream-like state. It destroys and wipes the slate anew.
Was that the purpose of the fire within his core? To clean him from the sins that plagued his heart?
Hellfire burns hot for those who deserve salvation, cold for those who don’t. Is mine a soul worth saving? Is there enough fire in the world to erase what we did?
“Hello, brother.” Where every other noise was muffled by the blood pumping through his ears, Knives’s voice was clear and sharp. From where his face was pressed against the floor, Vash could see the door to the station open, a pair of pale bare feet becoming visible.
“No…” Vash whimpered. He was too weak right now, he wouldn’t be able to stand, let alone be able to defend himself against his brother.
Knives would surely be wanting revenge. Last he had seen his brother, he had shot him with the very weapon Knives had gifted him. Vash had betrayed his brother’s trust and drawn blood. That was five years ago and Vash knew his brother. Knives was not a forgiving man.
“Are you not happy to see me?” Knives’s voice was soft, the way it used to sound when they talked as children. The way it sounded when he had handed Vash a gun that Vash turned against him.
“No, Nai,” Vash shook his head, pressing one cheek harder against something sharp on the ground. The remains of a broken bottle probably, or some other bit of glass. “I can’t fight right now.” Summoning what felt like the last of his strength, Vash rolled over, laying on his side rather than his face. It wasn’t much, but at least now he had a full view of his brother.
“Fight?” Hands behind his back, Knives walked through the abandoned electric station, looking around and as always, seeming unimpressed by what he saw. “Why would you think I’m here to fight you?”
“I shot you.”
“You did, didn’t you?” Surprisingly, Knives sounded more contemplative than angry. “And with the very weapon I made for you. How ungrateful. I thought Rem taught you better than that.”
“Stop!” As weak as he was feeling, the word still came out with venom. “You don’t get to say her name. Not after what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything to her. I invited her along since you seemed to care for her so much. What happened was entirely her fault.”
“Stop it.”
“Fine,” Knives sighed. “It’s not a particularly interesting argument anyway.”
“If you’re here to take revenge, just do it already,” Vash said. “I can’t stop you.”
“Revenge?” Knives crossed the room to Vash’s side, crouching next to him and running a finger down his cheek, tracing the line a tear may leave. “As I said, I am not here to hurt you. I’m here to help, dear brother.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you not realized what’s happening?”
“I’m hungry or sick or something. Plants can get sick, I’ve seen it before. I’ve helped them recover before. I just need to figure out what’s wrong and then I’ll be fine.”
“But you’re not sick, dear brother.” The way Knives said it was too smug to simply be a bluff. Somehow Knives understood what was happening with Vash’s body, even if Vash didn’t. The doctor, the one Vash had seen briefly at the facility the last time he encountered his brother; the doctor must have told Knives something.
“What do you know, Nai?” Vash asked between clenched teeth.
“I know many things,” Knives said, sounding entirely too amused by the situation, “you’ll have to be more specific.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“As I said, there is nothing wrong with you, save your insistence on running from me. Though I will admit, it does bring some excitement to our relationship, don’t you agree?”
“Knives!”
Knives just sighed at that, like he was just so disappointed that Vash didn’t want to play a part.
“Do you not remember our lessons in biology, Vash?”
“Remember what?”
“Biology. Rem was the one who taught us so I thought that you might have cared to commit it to memory.”
Vash tried to think back, remember, but his thoughts were hazy at best.
“Just tell me.”
“Really Vash, I thought you cared about her. I remember even though I wasn’t her favorite.”
“She didn’t have favorites,” Vash instantly defended. “We were her sons, she loved us both equally.”
“It is almost sweet how naive you can be.” Knives shifted from his crouching position, sitting next to Vash instead, leaning back with his hands on the ground to support himself. “The lesson I am referring to happened just after our first birthday. If you recall, Rem came in while we were… entertaining ourselves in our room. She sat us down and talked to us about ‘adult relationships’ as she put it.”
As Knives spoke, Vash’s memory came back in flashes.
There had always been two beds in their room on the ship, but back then they only ever used one. Rem had always fawned over them, calling it adorable when she came to get them in the morning, only to find them curled into one another. Knives didn’t quite need sleep in the same way Vash did, but each night when Vash was ready to retire, Knives would dutifully climb between the sheets with him. When Vash had asked, Knives had said he went into something like a meditative state, not quite asleep, but also not quite awake. Vash hadn’t ever really known if this was the truth or not, but either way it meant that Knives laid by his side and so he had been happy to accept the answer.
There had been a night when Vash remembered waking up with hands on him, Knives’s hands running up and down his torso. It felt almost soothing, like when Knives would comb his fingers through Vash’s hair, or rub circles on his back when Vash was upset. It was only almost though.
It happened every so often, this strange, unnamed desire within them. When it came on, the twins would press against each other, touching and exploring; wanting something but not knowing what. That night Knives’s fingers had pressed against his stomach and moved lower. Vash remembered the thrill that had shot through him, his brother’s fingers pressing between his legs. Something was different about that night than the others; Knives was bolder than he ever had been before, pushing the boundaries of what Vash would accept.
Knives had kissed him the way they had seen done in old movies the crew used to watch; the way princes did to princesses in the fairytales Rem occasionally read them. Knives always knew what to do and so Vash trusted him, kissing back, touching back.
Rem had come to check on them that night, walking in while Knives had been on top of Vash, kissing him, their clothes unbuttoned and hanging open though still mostly on. She hadn’t yelled at them, hadn’t torn them apart, or even scolded them. Instead, she had simply sighed, and came over to fix their clothes, saying that she thought it was time they had a talk.
Rem took them to the little side room they used as a living room, sitting the two of them down with three mugs of hot chocolate. It hadn’t felt wrong or unnatural when it was happening, but under the bright electric lights, Vash knew that they had made a mistake. Vash may not have fully understood what they had been doing, but had been filled with shame just the same.
Rem had told them about relationships and the different types people had. There was the type of love people had for their friends and family, and there was another kind, often reserved between two people. People in love in that way, did things together that they didn’t with other people. She had talked about how he and Knives were special, how they were special to each other and the bond they shared was like no other. She talked about trust and how it had to be nurtured and grew between two people like the flowers in their garden did.
There were urges, she had said, ones that they would likely experience in a sort of cycle. Humans experienced them too, just a little differently. It was a biological incentive for them to reproduce and create new life.
She had told them about their bodies and that they were developing far faster than any human might. She explained that there were rules when it came to humans based on maturity and how since independent plants such as Vash and Knives were so unique, they didn’t know when they might be ready for something like that. She had warned that it would likely be a while after they looked like adults and that it was important to wait until they were sure they were ready for such a momentous thing.
As Rem got into the details of their bodies, explaining how new life was created, Vash remembered being consumed by mortification, unable to make eye contact with anyone. The twins bathed together—Vash knew their bodies looked different from each other as well as the anatomy books of humans. They had looked more like things found in botany books than anatomy ones, though just different enough from either for any of them to have a fully accurate vocabulary to describe the twins’ bodies.
Vash didn’t stay through the end of her explanation in the end. By the tenth time Rem had called the thing between Vash’s legs his “flower” and how their bodies were different and that was perfectly alright, Vash wanted to hide under the table. As soon as the topic got more specific, the words “ovaries” and “pistil” being brought out, Vash had stood up and walked straight out of the room. Even if she hadn’t been using his name as she described the process of “pollination,” they all knew he was the one she was talking about. For the first time he felt his mug of hot chocolate as untouched as his brother’s while Knives stayed up late into the night, peppering Rem with questions.
Though each twin had their own bed, they had only ever used the one by the window that looked over the vastness of space. For the first time, Vash crawled into the other one. Hours later when Knives returned to their room, he had respected Vash’s space, laying down in their bed alone.
Vash had lain awake that night, unable to sleep both without his brother pressed against him and due to the thoughts whirling around in his head. He pressed a hand to his abdomen, completely flat. The idea that it could be anything but flat felt unreal. It felt like a mistake. After all, Knives created—Vash couldn’t make anything.
Later, both Knives and Rem had tried to continue the conversation with Vash, but each time Vash had either changed the topic, or found a reason to leave the room. Vash hadn’t ever actively avoided either of them before, but something about this topic crawled under his skin, the embarrassment a physical pain to even think about. Eventually they dropped it.
Years later, Vash had realized that the version of “the sex talk” that Rem had given them had been well meaning, but ultimately idealistic. She had described sex as a wonderful thing when treated with the respect it deserved. Love and sex were indelibly connected, tied together by strings of fate.
Love, she had said, was important.
Vash had learned much more about sex since then. He had listened to people on the other side of cheap hotel walls and passed drunk and indiscrete couples in alley ways. He saw how having it with the wrong person could bring down an entire family.
Just a few months ago, Vash had broken into the back of a bar when he heard screams, scaring off a large man. He could still remember brushing the tears away from the eyes of a young woman and the way she had seemed horrified and confused when she asked why her brother would try to do such a thing. Her broken voice, more than her screams, were what haunted Vash still. They sank to the bottom of his stomach like bitter guilt. He was no better than that man, not when it was Knives’s face who hovered in his vision at night alone.
Sex wasn’t always the wondrous, pure thing Rem had talked about and it certainly didn’t need love in the way Rem had said. From what Vash had seen, it ruined just as many lives as it created. It could ruin relationships. It could ruin everything.
It could ruin whatever was left between him and Knives that they hadn’t already ruined themselves.
“It’s wrong,” Vash said after what felt like an eternity, pulled back to the present where Knives was patiently waiting beside him.
“Ah, so you do remember?”
“Knives, no.” Vash wasn’t the foolish kid who blindly followed his brother anymore. He knew exactly what Knives was suggesting.
“No?” Knives seemed almost amused by Vash’s rejection. “You would deny yourself part of your nature, for what—human ideas of morality? Don’t forget, we are not human. You are not human, no matter how much you like to pretend otherwise.”
“We’re still brothers. It’s immoral.”
“It is what we were made for.” Knives sighed, as if Vash was the one being unreasonable. “I suppose you didn’t stay for the full lesson, did you? We were created for this, even Rem admitted it. Rem raised us so that one day we could do this.”
“This can’t be what she wanted.”
“Of course it is. We were made to be this world’s Adam and Eve. The only reason Rem stopped us back then was that she was afraid we weren’t ready, both mentally and physically. Her reasoning to wait was sound; your body wasn’t fully developed and serious harm could have come to you if my seed had taken. It wasn’t that she didn’t want us to do it at all, just not yet. We’re fully grown now though. If things happen as they are supposed to, then there would be no danger to your body.”
“No, you’re lying.” Knives had to be lying. There was no way Rem ended that conversation saying that the two of them should someday sleep together.
“Come on now, Vash, I thought you always wanted to create something. Let’s create .”
Vash shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed.
“I’ll be fine, Nai. Just leave me be.”
Suddenly, Vash felt hands on him, touching his shoulders and legs. Unable to sit up, much less push his brother off of him, Vash had no choice but to let Knives do as he wished. It was just like back then, Knives always doing as he wished.
Knives rolled Vash over and picked him up in quick succession, an arm under Vash’s knees and back respectively. A full body shiver went through Vash at the sudden feeling of his brother against him. Despite himself, he leaned into the touch, wrapping arms up around his brother’s neck, pressing his face against Knives’s chest. Just a few minutes ago, rolling over had felt like a Herculean effort, yet now it felt harder not to touch.
“You’re a fool, Vash.”
Vash just moaned, rubbing his face against his brother’s chest. Whimpering involuntarily at the feeling of Knives setting him down, Vash’s eyes fluttered back open. It seemed that Knives had carried him over to the old couch in the back of the room, spreading his gate over it like a blanket to separate them both from the grime of the place. It turned what should have been a disgusting seat of springs and dirt into a plush bed for them to sink into. Knives could make such beautiful things—Vash couldn’t understand why he chose to destroy things instead.
“I will not beg you to let me help you,” Knives whispered. “I will say it only once more. You will let me do this. I know you think me a monster, but I find no pleasure in your pain. You are the only other thing in this world that matters, let me take away your suffering.”
Vash looked away, unable to make eye contact anymore. As always, Knives had pushed, looking for Vash’s boundaries and the cracks within it. Vash, as he had so often done, gave in.
“Let’s just get this over with. It’s not like I can stop you anyway.”
“Oh, dear brother.” Knives reached down, stroking Vash’s face. “Lying to yourself like this is pointless.” As he said the last word, Knives’s hand slipped from Vash’s face, moving down to cup the side of his neck, the other finding the hem of Vash’s shirt and sliding underneath it.
That first touch, first real touch felt like being electrocuted. It had been a lifetime since Knives had been close enough to touch him. It had been five years. It had been too long. Vash whimpered under his brother's hands, arching his back to press up into the sensation. God, had Knives’s hands always felt this good? Knives was barely even doing anything, ghosting hands over Vash’s skin, not even touching him where Vash needed him most, and yet it already brought such relief. How would it feel to have Knives move lower?
“You can do whatever you want, just don’t finish inside.” Cloudy as his mind was, Vash needed to make sure that no matter what, he wouldn’t be leaving this encounter with an unintended souvenir. “You can’t cum inside.”
“Don’t you want more family, Vash? You seemed to care about it so much back then. Come now, I’ll even let you name the first one Rem.”
His brother’s hands left him for just a moment, Vash instinctually arching up to try to get it back. Knives let out a small laugh, but he didn’t make Vash wait, working to strip Vash of his clothing. Vash’s jacket, which had already been falling off, was easily removed. His shoes, shirt, then pants fell in a crumpled heap on the floor, leaving him utterly bare to his brother for the first time since they were children. He tried to cover himself, closing his legs and using his hands as much as he could to hide the rest, but Knives was having none of it. Knives easily pinned Vash’s arms up above him with a single hand, spreading Vash’s thighs with his knee. It felt like Vash was being put on display, spread out for anyone to see. For his brother to see.
“I hate you, Nai,” Vash’s voice shook just a little, tears filling his eyes and blurring his vision of his brother looming over him.
“And I love you, my darling, foolish brother.” Hearing those words cut deeper than any blade his brother could have used—a reminder of this sick, twisted thing between them.
Knives’s fingers weren’t those of a curious child anymore, but those of a man moving with intent—one who knew what he was doing. Part of Vash would have thought that maybe Knives did know, had practiced with others, but he also knew his brother would never allow a human to be that close to him, nor would he ever touch their sisters who slept in their tanks. Perhaps the real reason Knives was here, touching Vash in this way, had nothing at all to do with Vash himself, but simply a desire for the only other independent plant.
If there were more of us , Vash couldn’t help but wonder, would you even look twice at me? Would you still care at all? Do you love me, or do you simply long for the company of another independent? Has it ever been about me?
As he felt his brother’s fingers rubbing over his flower, Vash did his best to pretend like the idea of Knives choosing someone else didn’t cut as deep as it did. Knives slid his fingers down the slit between petals, dripping wet and swollen plump with need. Without any input from his brain, Vash looked down and watched as his petals parted, one on each side, revealing his dripping hole and another smaller petal that unraveled, curling up toward his stomach. The center petal coiled in on itself, his sensitive pistil nestled safely inside.
Knives had seen him naked when they were young, but never quite like this. Sure, they had touched each other’s bodies curious about their similarities and differences, but laying here with his brother’s fingers circling his opening felt nothing like that. Knives had never sat between his legs, running his fingers around his flower like he was trying to milk Vash of his nectar, looking like he wanted to devour him. Or maybe Knives always looked with such intent and Vash just hadn’t been able to recognize it before.
Vash watched as Knives moved closer and closer to him, doing nothing as Knives delved between his spread thighs. Knives leaned in and licked at Vash’s opening briefly before moving up to suck gently on the newly revealed and most sensitive of Vash’s petals.
There was no one around for miles—no one to hear Vash’s cry at the feeling of his own twin brother delivering such terrible, world altering pleasure upon him. Vash’s voice broke half way through, like when he was a teenager and his voice had just begun to deepen. He couldn’t help but reach down, clawing at his brother’s shoulders, his hair, overstimulated and desperately wanting more at the same time. Knives took it in his stride, sucking and licking as Vash bucked up against his mouth. Of course Knives was good at this—he could do anything, including bring such sweet, sinful pleasure.
“You taste sweet, did you know that?” Knives licked at Vash again, softer this time, pausing as if he was actually seeking an answer. “You taste as sweet as you smell.”
Vash only shook his head in response, too embarrassed to actually answer the question. He had tasted himself before, bored and curious more than anything else. It hadn’t been bad, but just weird enough that he hadn’t tried again. Not, of course, that he could ever admit any of that to Knives.
“Has anyone else done this for you?” Knives asked, sitting up and going back to rubbing against the petals surrounding Vash’s hole with his fingers, not yet pushing inside. “How many unworthy humans have you let defile you?”
“No one,” Vash said, trying his best to keep himself from pushing back against Knives’s hand and forcing his brother’s fingers inside of him. “Of course I haven’t.”
The only people who knew he was a plant were the ones on Home, and as much as he liked Luida and Brad, he certainly wasn’t going to sleep with them. Even if he tried with a stranger in the dark, touch alone would tell someone that what lay between his legs was different from what any human might have. It had never been worth the risk, never anyone he wanted to be that close to him, physically and emotionally.
“Good,” Knives whispered in his ear. “It wouldn’t do if you forgot just who you belong to.” With that, Knives finally pressed inside.
In moments of loneliness and curiosity, Vash had touched himself before. He had let his hands slide down his body and rubbed at the wetness that collected between his legs. He pressed his fingers inside and had ridden his own hand to completion numerous times. He had done his best to empty his mind of any thoughts as he did so. All of which was to say, the feeling of fingers inside him shouldn’t have been entirely new.
This absolutely felt new.
The first push into Vash’s body wasn’t like anything he was expecting. Knives’s fingers knew just how to move, where Vash was most sensitive as if he had plucked the knowledge straight from Vash’s own mind. Perhaps he had. Knives seemed to know everything about him; it wouldn’t be that surprising to learn that Knives knew things about Vash’s mind as well as his body that he himself didn’t know.
Knives’s touch was at once like being set ablaze and a douse of cool water to extinguish the fire burning within Vash. Too much and not enough. It was as if every sensation both ended and began with his brother’s hands, his mouth, his desire.
Vash bit one fist, watching as his brother fucked him with his fingers, Knives’s hand shinying completely soaked by now. Knives himself seemed like he couldn’t look away from where he was inside of Vash, looking almost mesmerized by the sight. The vision Knives made was just as fascinating to Vash though—his brother’s lower face still wet from Vash’s slick and his pupils blown wide, the lines of their plant patterns faintly glowing within his eyes. Knives looked like an angel painted by an artist with a penchant for the obscene.
It wasn’t long before Knives was pulling his fingers out, his cloak melting away into his gate, leaving him as bare as Vash was, utterly unashamed in his nudity.
I guess I wasn’t the only one who grew up , Vash thought, looking at his brother.
When they were together as children, the two had been mirror images—the perfect twins. The spent apart years had changed them though, both their views and their bodies growing only more different form on another. Where Vash had kept the lanky build of his teen years, Knives had broadened out, putting on muscle mass like someone in one of those old action hero movies. The twins were probably still of a similar height and yet looking up at Knives, Vash felt almost diminutive in comparison. What Vash had said earlier was right—Knives could do whatever he wanted with Vash right then and Vash wouldn’t have a chance at fighting back. Not that Vash thought he could convince himself to push Knives away at this point.
That wasn’t the only difference though—there was also the part that had always been different between them. Though their flowers had never been the same, those differences seemed to have only grown more exaggerated over the years. Knives’s flower was more similar to a single petal that, when unfurled, left his pistil uncovered, long and thick. Vash hadn’t ever seen his brother quite like this before, utterly bare and aroused. Everything was different from when they were children, innocently taking baths or changing in front of each other.
No, Knives certainly hadn’t looked like this before—Vash would have remembered.
Vash didn’t really realize he was reaching out until he had touched it, wrapping fingers around the base, already covered in Knives’s own sort of wetness. The skin there wasn’t completely even like a human’s, but covered in small smooth ridges, similar to the kind that Vash knew contained seeds in real flowers.
Don’t think about seeds , Vash reminded himself, don’t think about anything other than this right now.
“It’s bumpy,” Vash said instead, squeezing it a little as he moved his hand up slowly, “and wet.”
“Did you expect me to be more like your precious humans?” Knives sounded calm and collected, as if Vash was the only one affected by any of this.
Vash shook his head. “I just… it’s different. I didn’t know what to expect.”
Knives reached out and tilted Vash’s chin up, his touch guiding but not demanding, soft in a way Vash didn’t know his brother could be anymore. Lips pressed against his own, tender in a way that hurt so much more than any amount of force could have. Kissing Knives felt at once like coming home and being damned to hell. The taste of himself on Knives’s lips, on his tongue, made it all the worse.
Their lips were still locked together when Vash felt his brother press against his entrance, slipping between the petals and bumping against the sensitive part on top. Knives swallowed Vash’s whimper as he sank inside, pushing himself into Vash and crossing the final bridge into damnation.
The thing between Knives’s legs was entirely unlike Knives’s fingers. It stretched him wide, wider than Vash thought he could accommodate—wide enough that by all reason it should hurt. It didn’t though. Instead it just felt right, as if everything Knives had said had been the truth. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if the two of them truly were made for this.
Vash wasn’t sure if he wanted Knives to be right—he didn’t feel sure about anything anymore.
The ridges made Vash shiver, making the movement in and out pronounced with each and every thrust. He couldn’t close his eyes and pretend this was a stranger, some human he had no connection to other than where they were connected now. No, this couldn’t be anyone other than Knives; the brother who he loved so terribly.
“Nai, please.” What exactly Vash was pleading for, for more or less than what was happening at the moment, was no more clear to him that it probably was to Knives. Though, on second thought, Knives always had known Vash better than he knew himself. Maybe his brother did know.
Inside himself, Vash felt like something was breaking, crumbling away. The last bits of hope that they could go back to how they were—that he could ever have his brother, his family back—fractured. There was no returning from this.
Vash closed his eyes, trying to remind himself that sex didn’t have to involve love at all. He tried to convince himself that the twisted, dark thing that filled his chest was only love for a brother turned sorrowful by their estrangement. He told himself that the type of love he felt had nothing to do with how easily he came, gasping Knives’s name and holding his brother close. He came, hating himself for how much he wanted to be exactly where he was; hating himself for how much he wanted the man who had made him cum.
Vash only opened his eyes again when he felt warm lips press against a closed eyelid.
“You’re crying,” Knives said, pressing another kiss to the corner of Vash’s other eye. “Was it really that pleasurable to cum with me inside of you?”
“Of course I’m crying,” Vash said, twisting his face away, “what we’re doing is wrong. It’s unnatural.”
“It’s the most natural thing in the world.”
Vash just shook his head, squeezing his eyes close again, feeling fresh tears run down the sides of his face.
“Let’s just finish this.”
“Fine.” Even if Vash couldn’t see his brother’s face, it was plain enough from his voice that he was quickly losing any patience he once had. Knives’s grip on his hips tightened, nails digging into Vash’s skin in a way that was guaranteed to bruise. Hell, it might even scar if Knives broke skin.
Good , Vash thought, I deserved the pain; I deserved to be punished.
The next push into Vash’s body was hard and fast, ripping a cry from his lips, eyes flying open. Before he could adjust to the sudden thrust, Knives had pulled halfway out and pushed in again, just as hard and just as aggressive.
“Wait, Nai!” Vash gasped, trying to form words while his brother knocked the breath from his lungs.
“ You said you wanted it over and done with,” Knives growled, teeth clenched, “I am simply fulfilling your request, dear brother.”
Knives’s face swam in Vash’s vision, made blurry from the tears clouding his eyes. He seemed angry though, frustrated in the same way he would get when they were children and they disagreed over something. His brother’s rage had always scared Vash, especially when he was the one who caused it. It hurt now just as it had back then, the feeling of Knives being upset with him.
Suddenly, the idea of Knives being angry at him was intolerable, like a sin worse than any other they were in the midst of committing. Knives was here, helping Vash in his time of need, and Vash had insulted him and upset him.
“Don’t be mad at me.” Vash wiped at his eyes, gasping as his brother shifted and hit a particularly sensitive spot. “I’m sorry, Nai. Please.”
Just love me.
Knives seemed to soften at that, scowl suddenly replaced with an almost tender expression, leaning down to kiss Vash.
“I could never stay mad at you, brother. I love you too much.” Even if they were exactly what Vash had been wanting to hear, Knives’s words cut deeper than they were surely meant to, digging into the core of Vash’s heart. His tears didn’t stop their flow.
“I’m sorry,” Vash repeated against his brother’s lips. He didn’t know what he was even apologizing for anymore—for upsetting Knives moments before, for shooting him and running away five years ago, for helping him commit this sinful act—Vash ached with sorrow for each one. “I’m so sorry, Nai.”
I’m sorry that this is what has become of us.
Knives only hiked Vash’s hips up higher, nearly folding Vash in half at the waist, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his own head. Any other day it would have probably hurt, but right now all it meant was that his brother was able to sink even deeper, filling him so utterly perfectly.
“So desperate for me,” Knives said, breath coming a little faster. “Had I known that in just a little time, you would be so receptive, perhaps I would have done things differently. Played a longer game.”
“Stop it,” Vash said, shaking his head. “Not that.” He didn’t want to think about what could have been or who might have been saved. It felt wrong, bringing up the dead while engaged in such an act.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Knives kissed the inside of Vash’s knee where Knives had it pinned. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment by bringing up unpleasant memories.”
“No more talking. Please, Nai.”
“Don’t talk then. Listen instead.” Knives grabbed one of Vash’s hands and placed it over his own heart, thundering as hard as Vash’s. “Listen to the way my heart beats for you, in time with yours. You can deny it all you want, but you need this. We were made as this world’s Adam and Eve; it is in our very nature that we desire each other like this. I am the only one who can cure the fire in your veins as you are the only one who can cure the one in mine. We started life together as one being, it is only natural that we become one again.”
Maybe it was his brother’s commanding tone, maybe it was the way each thrust into him brought a new spark of pleasure, but Knives’s words were starting to make more and more sense. Vash needed his brother in a way he needed nothing else to survive—he always had. Why not have him in this way too?
“Want you,” Vash whispered, gasping as Knives pressed in especially hard. “Missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, brother.” Knives sounded almost sweet in his response, slowing just a little to brush a tear from Vash’s cheek. “Someday, it will be only us and we won’t ever have to miss each other ever again.”
“Hold me.” Vash reached up, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck. Letting Vash’s legs free from where he had pinned them, Knives slipped an arm under Vash’s back to bring the two together. Almost instinctively, Vash wrapped his legs back around Knives’s waist, wanting him to stay as deep as the previous position allowed. It felt so good, pressed together like this, as if they were the only things in the world.
Vash allowed himself to be ravished, enjoying each moment of his twin inside him. Why had they spent so long fighting? Why had Vash resisted this? Why would Vash want anything other than his brother, making him feel whole in a way he hadn’t felt since the last time they had oh so innocently shared a bed.
“I’m close.” Knives’s voice was as unsteady as Vash had ever heard it, straining to hold on against something inevitable. “Your legs—oh.” In response, Vash found himself only squeezing Knives tighter, ankles interlocking behind his back.
“No,” Vash whispered, leaning up to capture his brother’s lips in a kiss. “Don’t pull out.”
“You seemed pretty adamant I couldn’t cum in you earlier.” Though his voice was still a bit strained, he sounded more amused than anything else, as if he had always known he would get his way.
Vash shook his head. Had he said that? He couldn’t imagine why, when the idea of Knives cumming deep inside of him made his toes curl and something inside thrum with delighted pleasure. As Knives had said, it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Want to feel you cum,” Vash said, “need to feel it inside me. Please.”
“You’re playing with fire, brother.”
“Don’t leave me.” Vash felt fresh tears fall from his eyes. “Don’t want to be alone anymore. I just want you.”
With one final plunge in Vash’s willing body, Knives allowed himself to let go. Knives buried his face against Vash’s neck as he came, whispering something against his throat. Whatever it was though, was drowned out by the sound of Vash’s heart beating in his own ears as he came undone for a second time—the sudden heat that flooded him was enough to push him over the edge once again. The two had never been so close or so perfect in their completion of each other.
Three days later, after the heat that had burned within his very core had subsided, Vash found himself resting on top of his brother, both completely naked. It was a position that would have embarrassed him previously, but after spending so long not moving from that spot, modesty had just about melted away. It was hard to be awkward about having his face pressed against Knives’s bare chest when he could still feel his brother’s cum leaking out from between his legs and knew even more was buried deep inside.
In the end, all of Vash’s prior insistences that Knives pull out, had been spoiled by his own actions. It made sense, even if Vash wished it didn’t. These heats were supposed to get them to breed; of course when the moment came Vash would want his brother to cum inside. He could only hope now that none of the numerous times they had sex would take root.
Despite himself, Vash found himself wishing that moment between them would never come to an end. It was nice to be surrounded by his brother’s warmth—a rare moment of peace between the two. Vash didn’t want to think about what came next. He had a feeling though, that it wouldn’t be filled with quiet, calm moments like this though.
“Everything is going to be different now, isn’t it?”
“Everything has been different for a long time now, Vash.” Knives leaned down, laying a kiss on the top of Vash’s head.
“But now there’s no going back to how things used to be, is there?”
“We are not the naive children we once were and pretending to be so would be pointless.” Knives’s answer wasn’t what Vash had wanted to hear, but maybe it was what he needed to. The idyllic life they had lived as children was far away and just like the ship itself, it was a world they could never return to.
“Do you think we’d really die if we didn’t do this?” Vash asked, changing the topic.
“It may shock you to find out, but I do not actually know everything.” Knives sounded tired, as if the past few days had drained him of his desire to obfuscate the truth as he so often did.
It was actually surprising to hear Knives admit such a thing. It wasn’t just that he hated to admit a weakness, but all their lives, whenever Vash had a question, Knives would always be ready with an answer. Vash shifted, resting his hands under his chin so he could look at his brother’s face.
“I think it’s possible though,” Knives continued when Vash didn’t say anything, “or at least weaken us to the point that even a human could kill us. Would you rather have tested out that theory? Do you wish I had left you here to die?”
“Why didn’t you?” Vash didn’t bother to answer his brother’s questions. They had been rhetorical anyway; Knives didn’t want to hear what answers Vash might have given.
“I would think the answer is obvious.”
“But…” Vash paused before continuing, hesitant to bring tension into the conversation. “I shot you.”
“Yes,” Knives agreed easily, sounding completely unbothered, just as he had a few days before. “And I have never harmed you, brother. Isn’t that funny? That despite how much you insist on these morals of yours, you are the one who has hurt me, not the other way around?”
“You should hate me.”
“And that is where we disagree. You are part of me as I am part of you. We cannot hate each other.”
Was that true though? Vash wasn’t so sure anymore, not after that twisted look of horrified betrayal that had twisted Knives’s features five years before. Knives had hated him at that moment, Vash was sure of it.
“We shouldn’t sleep together again,” Vash said, again changing the subject. An amused smile spread across his brother’s face as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Vash’s forehead.
“Let’s not sleep, then.”
“I’m serious, Nai.” Vash insisted, even as he already began to miss the warmth of his brother’s lips. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s wrong. The type of love that goes into this sort of thing—it’s not the type between brothers. It’s definitely not the type of thing enemies do.”
“Are we enemies?” It sounded like a genuine question.
“So long as you’re an enemy of humans.”
“Then why not kill me now?” There was more curiosity than malice in the suggestion. “You’ve shot me before, you can do it again. Just aim a little better.”
“I’m not going to shoot you, Knives. Just, the next time this happens, I’ll deal with it on my own. You don’t need to find me.”
“Deal with it by throwing yourself onto stranger after stranger to hope they can soothe the need for my touch?” For the first time in the conversation, there was an edge to Knives’s tone, a warning.
“That’s not what I mean. I just—I’ll figure something out.”
“And what about me?”
“What?”
“Our bodies are more similar than they are different,” Knives reminded him. “You are not the only one who will experience these heats. What should I do? When the fires consume me, would you turn me away, unsure if it will kill me? If so, I’d rather you shoot me and get it over with than watch me suffer through a slow and painful death. It’s more humane, don’t you think?”
“No, that’s…” Vash shook his head. He could suffer it out, wait in agony for days or weeks for this thing to go away. Knives though? Could he leave his brother to wait in agony, knowing that he could cure it? He had shot Knives and the look of pain and betrayal on his brother’s face had almost broken him completely. Vash wasn’t sure if he could survive causing his brother pain like that again. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I suggest you figure it out, brother. I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”
Love , Vash thought, can be a terrible thing sometimes.
When Knives showed up at the door of Vash’s rented room a few months later, all flushed skin and reaching hands, Vash didn’t turn him away. He had never been good at saying no to his brother.