ray

“…aren’t we always together? because we’re in the same band?” vash mumbles as he rubs his hands over his face, piercings clinking like tiny bells. wolfwood gives him a moment to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes before he rolls the newspaper back up and tosses it over onto his bed. 

he blindly reaches for it, holds it above his face, blinks twice. 

“oh,” vash tuts quietly, eyebrows furrowing as he sees the poorly printed image and recalls the night of that concert. slight annoyance flashes over his face as he remembers that paparazzi will do anything to get a trending picture, even if it means sneaking around back and snapping flicks. it doesn’t help that the picture was taken purposely to make it look like they were about to kiss behind the building, a sly smile on his face as he leaned in close toward wolfwood smoking with his back to the wall. sure maybe they were going to do a little making out— but it doesn’t mean the paparazzi have to be so nosy.

“could’ve all been avoided if you’d just left me alone to smoke.” wolfwood puts one hands up in surrender, shrugging playfully.

“right yeah, of course,” and he flashes one of his sheepish yet charming smiles, except a little more nervous than usual. the same ones he had been giving you whenever he passed you another glass, but something seemed off about this one.

you can tell he’s still drunk, with the way he fiddles with the front of his shirt and the way his eyes seem to dash and skim over your face. like he’s not all focused or something’s distracting him..?

“okay w-well i better wash up now,” vash shifts on his feet, dress shoes clacking against the wooden floor. he can feel this coil of sensations unwrapping inside him. its starting to reveal something deeper. something embarrassing. it doesn’t help that his eyes are naturally drawn to your chest. he steps away from you and starts to close his door and somehow he reminds you of a deer in headlights.

“uh-“ you reach out, concerned, yet as soon as you do, he starts to close the door faster.

“yeah! goodnight to you too-“ vash shuts the door on himself. it feels rude to force you away from him, but that sensation is starting to spread to his legs, and he would much rather be out of your sight when his face starts reddening.

horrified and embarrassed, he shuts his eyes, in denial that he’s indulging in any of this. he leans his arm against the door and presses his eyes into his forearm. ever so slowly, his other hand runs down his stomach, over his belt, lower towards his crotch. biting his bottom lip, his shaky hand reaches to cup himself and- god, yeah. he’s rock hard in his pants.

“mmhg…” vash whimpers softly, he can feel himself throbbing against the tight fabric and its making him dizzy. all of his blood is rushing from his head and down his lower half. images of you from tonight flashes through your head; your dress riding up your thighs, your chest spilling out from the low v-neck, your red, flustered face he so dearly wished to see under him. it’s so humiliating yet he cant help the way he begins to roughly palm himself through his pants.

if you found out he was- if anyone found out what he did behind closed doors, the shame would be enough for him to pledge to never indulge in such selfish activities ever again. yet whenever he was finally alone after a night of being with you, he craved for you. his hands itched to touch you under your clothes, his dick jolted and throbbed at the mere thought of being inside you.

vash bites his lip, a pathetic attempt to hide his noises and soothe the tinge of shame. his hand rubs a little faster, his hips begin to grind along the pace, and vash realizes how fucking pent up he is. he can’t even remember the last time he touched himself. a month ago? a few months ago? god he doesn’t even know, but if he doesn’t cum his brains out at the thought of your dress hiking up your ass soon he might start crying.

vash is starting to drool a little on himself. instead of biting his lip to hide his sounds, he resorts to biting down on the fabric of his sleeve. but its useless because its rapidly soaking up his droll and now he’s imagining the wet folds of your pussy lips on his mouth and— oh god he’s moaning.

“a-ahh mmghf…” vash’s hips shuddering as he grinds into the palm of his hand, eyes rolling back whenever the leaking tip rubs against the tight fabric. god he can feel the wetness seeping through. he’s letting out little a-ah’s and mmh’s as he begins to lose himself.

it only makes him hump his hand faster when he starts to imagine cumming deep in your stomach, filling you up to the brim with his warm seed. he’s starting to twitch now, legs losing strength as his body begins caving in on himself. his blond hair falling over his shut eyes as he muffles his moans into his arm, sweat running down his face and soaking into his shirt. its so embarrassing, but he’s so close. just a little more…

vash presses his hand harder against his aching dick, gives one, two, three more rough strokes— and he’s gone. he bites down hard on his sleeve as his cock paints the inside of his pant leg with hot cum. his jaw dropped open as he shudders and groans. in a frenzy, his hand keeps on moving. pushing the last of the seed out as he pushes himself for more. his dick is softening and refusing, but he keeps on slowly rubbing the sensitive tip, imagining your wet tongue lapping up his spend before swallowing it.

vash gives himself a mere ten seconds to think about that soft, pretty mouth of yours again before he stops rubbing himself, instead wiping the sweat from his brow line. post nut clarity finally hitting him: ‘god i’m such a pervert.’ vash bites his lip as he relishes in the uncomfortable cooling of the cum in his pants. the sweat around his neck and underneath his shirt— and he feels like he needs to take a cold shower immediately.

but he doesn’t. maybe just for tonight he can keep on thinking of you. thinking about kissing you after you lick up the cum from his tip. maybe only for tonight he can do that. tomorrow morning when vash sees you again in the hall way, he’ll say good morning and you’ll say it back, and the thoughts from tonight will be shoved to the very back of his mind. he’ll forget about the way he visualized your curves under your dress and your mouth wrapped around his shaft. he’ll forget about all of this. no one will ever know what he does when he’s alone, hell, he’ll act like he doesn’t know either.

vash huffs as the disgust and shame finally pierce him deep in the gut. he wipes the sweat at his brow line and slumps against the door, sleepiness already making its way into his bones. but just as he settles against it, a weight on the other side door lifts off. vash stops breathing when he feels if. panic begins to sink in as he realizes how eager he was earlier. fuck. he didn’t even wait to hear you walk to your room before he started touching himself.

vash bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as he finally does hear your footsteps retreating away. ‘god i’m such an idiot.’ he didn’t think the shame and embarrassment he felt could get any worse, but oh it can, and it did. vash kicks off the door, walking straight to the bathroom to strip and soak in a a cold bath.

he prayed that you would forget all about it in the morning.