It's moments like these (or, rather, the first moment he's had like this) that is really underscoring Vash's own attraction to men. Holy shit. Ain pretty. Ain pretty and also really good at this, which something tells him he should have expected...just like how Ain sensed Vash's not-straightness, so too did Vash sense that Ain probably had been around the block once or twice before...
None of these thoughts actually hit Vash's brain right now, of course. His brain has been fogged up with arousal, every part of him made hazy by the flutter of Ain's fingers across his skin, be it across smooth or scarred parts of him. Every time he's touched Vash seems to have some kind of reaction to it, be it to gasp or tense a bit, his brows upturned. He wants to...do something. Hold him? Touch him? He's not sure, but he feels like he should be doing more than just sitting here. But even as he's thinking this, he exhales sharply on another startled moan, his hips suddenly bucking forward when Ain finally goes for his prize and plants a hand between his legs to start palming him there.
It's almost too much. Almost.]
Ai-...Ai-n...
[Vash's mechanical arm reaches, grasping at thin air until he finds Ain's shoulder just above where his other wing is wrapped around him, cold metal fingertips canting across the open-back of his shirt until he manages to hit the base, and this time? It seems actually deliberate, the way he presses his fingers in and strokes, knowing by instinct that Ain is going to appreciate it.]
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It's moments like these (or, rather, the first moment he's had like this) that is really underscoring Vash's own attraction to men. Holy shit. Ain pretty. Ain pretty and also really good at this, which something tells him he should have expected...just like how Ain sensed Vash's not-straightness, so too did Vash sense that Ain probably had been around the block once or twice before...
None of these thoughts actually hit Vash's brain right now, of course. His brain has been fogged up with arousal, every part of him made hazy by the flutter of Ain's fingers across his skin, be it across smooth or scarred parts of him. Every time he's touched Vash seems to have some kind of reaction to it, be it to gasp or tense a bit, his brows upturned. He wants to...do something. Hold him? Touch him? He's not sure, but he feels like he should be doing more than just sitting here. But even as he's thinking this, he exhales sharply on another startled moan, his hips suddenly bucking forward when Ain finally goes for his prize and plants a hand between his legs to start palming him there.
It's almost too much. Almost.]
Ai-...Ai-n...
[Vash's mechanical arm reaches, grasping at thin air until he finds Ain's shoulder just above where his other wing is wrapped around him, cold metal fingertips canting across the open-back of his shirt until he manages to hit the base, and this time? It seems actually deliberate, the way he presses his fingers in and strokes, knowing by instinct that Ain is going to appreciate it.]