[For a brief moment, Wolfwood stiffens under Vash's touches, the hand in his hair unexpected and intimate in a way he hadn't expected. It's unfamiliar and unexpected, but it sends a warm tingle through his scalp, distracts him momentarily from the threat around him.
If he were less overwhelmed perhaps he'd protest, or at least realize how entwined they've become. All around him is Vash, around his back, against his head, on his shoulder, against his chest. He can hear his breathe, feel his pulse against his neck, the heat in the small spaces between them. And it's so much more a pleasant thing to focus on.
So much so that he's lulled into a tentative kind of sleep, enough that the dark bruise on his neck fades away, releasing him of the punishment of the town's god.]
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If he were less overwhelmed perhaps he'd protest, or at least realize how entwined they've become. All around him is Vash, around his back, against his head, on his shoulder, against his chest. He can hear his breathe, feel his pulse against his neck, the heat in the small spaces between them. And it's so much more a pleasant thing to focus on.
So much so that he's lulled into a tentative kind of sleep, enough that the dark bruise on his neck fades away, releasing him of the punishment of the town's god.]