7 or 29 with fiveya for the kiss prompts please!
#29 A kiss… as a promise.
Kiss Prompt List. Cannot guarantee any timely responses lol.
Sidenote: This is barely edited but if I didn’t post it now I was never going to. Contains some adult themes. Also, I really enjoyed reading people’s comment tags on my other work, it’s very encouraging so thank you!
Five knows what he wants. Has known since he dropped out of the sky in a crackle of blue and the sight of her safe and whole had rushed him harder than the ground from the fall.
But Five isn’t a fool, hasn’t managed to survive this long by simply denying unpleasant truths and the crux of it is that Vanya will not have him, not as he is.
He left her world at 13, a child, and returns to her as such. This gangly, pubescent body; it’s ingrained in her now, no matter his actual age. Her breath will never quicken in his presence, her heart will never stutter at his most innocent of touches.
Five has had 45 years to become accustomed with the fact that the sweet sister he had left behind was no longer a girl. Hasn’t been since his filthy fingers grasped at her book like a lifeline, tracing her features on the back cover in a pattern that wore the paper down so quickly he’d had to settle for just looking lest he lose her image forever.
Him? As much as Vanya treats and talks to him like an equal – Five has little doubt that she has not once ever considered him a man.
She smiles softly and hugs him tightly, will seek his company out before all their siblings and speak more freely. These are the affections gifted by a sister, gifts that twist his stomach to know she gives them to her brother, her confidante, while Five’s blood runs hot at the barest of glances.
If he were better, less selfish; Five could be that for her. Her brother, her confidante. He compartmentalises so well, you see, he could just as easily tuck those feelings away, hush hush, never to see the light of day.
But Five has suffered too much and lived too long just to end up not getting everything he’s ever wanted. And he wants Vanya. Her time, her body, her love, her everything.
And it helps, that Vanya already loves him. He just needs to get her to want him too.
He waits and he waits, planting seeds as he goes.
Vanya doesn’t notice when he starts to stand a little closer, doesn’t blink when instead of calling her name for attention he starts catching her by the elbow or tugging at her wrist gently. Small steps. Nothing that would cause any alarm, gestures that can still be brushed off as the actions of a brother if not for the way he burns for her in the dark of the night.
All Five wants is for his touch, his presence, to be embedded so deeply into her normal that the absence of him will be felt more keenly.
His body is 16 the first time he’s bold enough to place a hand at the base of her spine, ushering her in away from the cold. She furrows her eyebrows but otherwise makes no comment and something inside him purrs at her easy acceptance.
He’s a full head taller than her now, his features beginning to sharpen handsomely as he hoped they would, the apocalypse leaving little time for vanity. It’s isn’t enough though, still too young by miles and he grows impatient – one taste and his palms are still itching to make a home of themselves in the curve of her spine.
But recklessness already cost him one future with her – he’d be twice the fool to tip his hand so quickly. Patience may adorn him like an ill-fitted suit but Five can still wear it all the same.
Cumbersome, but rewarding. Another year passes and Five learns the taste of her skin, following Allison’s lead he kisses Vanya on the cheek in farewell as they both make to leave her apartment.
She tastes like salt, of warmth and chances missed, and when Five pulls away both his sisters regard him curiously.
“Was that not okay?” he ventures, pitches his voice a touch towards vulnerable. There are many hidden benefits to inhabiting a younger body - knees that don’t creak for one – playing naïve and innocent and getting away with it is another.
“Oh no, it’s fine… just a little unexpected,” Vanya chuckles, fingers twiddling delicately with her ear. It’s a nervous habit, one that’s carried on from childhood, for when she’s secretly pleased about something but doesn’t feel confident enough to say.
Five leaves her apartment with a grin, teeth feeling sharp. To keep up appearances he attempts to kiss Allison farewell on the street below but is soundly rejected.
“You don’t fool me, old man,” she admonishes, amusement clear. Five’s grin only stretches wider.
Alone in his room that night he takes the memory of that afternoon and sets it to loop, revisiting the scent of her freckle stained skin, how soft she felt against his lips. He has a history of intimacies tucked away safely that he likes to bring out and thumb over to his hearts content – he paws over this new addition with rough abandon, scrabbling at his belt buckle until he can finally take himself in hand, her name like gospel from his lips.
It’s perverse, perhaps, but counterpoint - it’s been four years since Vanya has overwhelmed his every waking thought and he is starving.
Kissing Vanya in any capacity is a boon of which he’ll never surrender. Good mornings, goodbyes, goodnights – she showed him an iota of leeway and Five milks her goodwill for every last drop. His brother baulk at his sudden expression of affection while Allison makes no comment.
Five is approximately 64 years old and his body 19 when Vanya finally looks at him with a hint of something in her eyes.
Sleeping over at her apartment isn’t a regular occurrence, his self-control isn’t that good. But the manor had been loud and distracting with all three of their brothers there at once and his dissertation due date looming so Vanya’s little kitchen table seemed the safest bet for some piece and fucking quiet.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep. He does remember waking to soothing fingers combing though his hair, tucking some of the longer strands behind his ear. Vanya’s told him twice that he needs a haircut but he’s been too busy to find his way to a pair of scissors.
She startles when he peels his face off her kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Five waves her off, stretching out the kinks in his back with a satisfied grunt, the sound of cracking up his spine music to his ears. It’s only when he turns to ask her a question, arms still reaching for the ceiling that he notices her gaze dip down. The button-up he’s wearing must have come untucked during the night – her eyes stay glued to the sliver of stomach his stretching exposed, the fine hair there that Klaus once called his ‘happy trail’ fully on display.
When he imagined this moment, and yes, he did, often – he imagined the satisfaction, the lust. He imagined that vile, feral thing that resides in his chest to free itself from the confines of his control and crow in triumph, claiming its spoils with tongue and teeth.
Five watches as her eyes dart away, the deep bob of her throat as she swallows thickly. He spies the soft pink rising in her cheeks, just dusting the edges of her crow’s feet that have deepened charmingly over time and thinks, softly, tender: how lovely.
Five kisses her good morning a little lower this time, somewhere close to where he knows the dimple of her smile resides, lingers perhaps just a moment too long. He hears her hiccupping breath and tells himself: just a little longer.
All he has to do as continue as he has, tactile and present, brushing too close, kissing too softly – and watch as her gaze darkens for him day after day.
Five is going to get everything he is ever wanted.
