No, this conversation most likely won’t end with them skipping off into the sunset hand in hand. That’s what he wants, more than anything – he wants so much to head out of here, Wolfwood at his side, and see who might be in Mesa Probe, in May City, on the Earth ships, wants to introduce Wolfwood to Rem, wants to spend this night and every night for the next week out in the flats with Wolfwood, sitting around a campfire all night and riding on the latest iteration of Angelina during the heat of the day. He wants it so much he can taste it, can almost manifest it into being. He’d give up every strand of blond on his head to make it happen. Wolfwood pulls him in like a magnet, an unstoppable electrical force, and the silly voices and clumsy gait can only go so far to disguise that wanting. His teeth ache from it. Wolfwood’s under his skin and wrapped around his heart and he wants in a way he’s never wanted another person before.

But there are things that have to be said first, by both of them, and he suspects – no, call it what it is, he fears -- that when those things are said, he’ll be going back to July alone.

So when Vash sets his coat down – is he going back to Octovern? Be careful, friend! – and implies that they might want privacy, it’s all he can do to steal his face and mind into stillness. He wants, Vash. He wants Wolfwood in every sense of the word, and it’s going to hurt so much when – if – when he has to leave his heart here.

How much of that he shares on their connection, he can’t tell. Some of it, certainly. Too much, entirely possible. Vash sends love on his way out the door and he sends it back, with gratitude, and a wordless request -- don’t go too far, please. Wolfwood might need a friend here shortly.

And then they’re alone.

Shit. Where to start, what to say, how to even begin? Vash remains standing, just inside the room, and rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“So.”