I can't believe this hasn't been done yet
acknowledgements:
This isn't my fault. This is Mirth's fault. She a) gave me the idea,
b) did nothing to discourage me, and c) beta'ed. And so, thank you muchly,
but all flames go to you. eg But I'll keep any praise
for myself. Just in case.
Undecided
Leaning on the
doorframe for fear of gravity, sleep bleared eyes staring into faces backlit by
a too bright hallway, Vash wondered if this was joke. A silly drunken joke that
wasn't at all funny except to people both twisted and brain dead from drink. Or
maybe . . . a bet, he could see that. A little competitiveness overcoming
camaraderie as friends . . .
No, not even Vash
was idealistic enough to believe that.
But, as tired as he
was, he couldn't quite convince himself that it was a joke either. Those eyes -
one pair grey, one pair smoky blue - were far too stark and serious as they
collectively stared both up and down at him. Both sets held metallic intensity,
hope and challenge searing him at cold cross angles. It was more than enough to
make a sleep-fogged legend dizzy.
Shaking his head in
the faint expectation of finding this to be a bizarre new nightmare, he asked
eloquently, "Huh?"
Meryl glared at him.
She always glared at him and he always fought back that sweet constriction of
his heart that made him want to grin at her and make her that slight bit
angrier. But now that expression was somewhat less encouraging, and accompanied
by an impatient foot stomp; it was actually fear inspiring.
"We already
told you! Weren't you paying attention, or is it not important enough for you to
spare your beauty sleep?"
Her unusual partner
in crime gave him a long, trailing look before winking, "Not that you need
it, Tongari. But I do agree with her, you need to make a decision."
Vash blinked again,
looking beyond the pair and speculating on his odds of getting past them. This
was absolutely unreal.
Wolfwood crossed his
arms and Meryl's foot tapping increased in tempo. It wasn't like he'd led either
of them on, so why had it come to this? How could he decide between his best
friend and his . . . he didn't know what, but it was an unformed word prodding
the back of his mind in a way that seemed important?
He looked to the man
across from him, who was diligently attempting to look enticing and encouraging,
but came off threatening. Mostly he looked like the insane, too insightful man
Vash's thoughts turned to whenever he saw that certain shade of blue that
couldn't be defined by any other person. A color that flavored late night
thoughts and that he dreamed of tasting.
It wasn't a thought
or an emotion. It was that blue, sort of dark, sort of heavy like his voice. A
sense. Something maybe he wanted and maybe he loved and maybe he just needed to
see again to know.
But Wolfwood slanted
his glance past Vash, watching the cat across the way with studied calm.
And her? The girl he
smiled at when she wasn't looking? Whose name he never said because it might
make her real or his and then he might hurt her? He denied the details of her,
those small hands and the flickering emotion he didn't want to read on her face.
Because what if he
couldn't look away? What if he heard more than the anger and faded in need of
her? If he didn't listen, he didn't die each time her breath touched words that
weren't his name.
She stood before him
and he dared question. But she didn't speak, only waited with uncharacteristic
anxiety for him.
They certainly
weren't helping him any on this.
He shifted
awkwardly, hesitant to give the only answer he had, "W-why can't I love
more than one person?"
With far more aplomb
than strictly necessary, Meryl and Wolfwood exchanged a glance. Wolfwood's gaze
found it's leisurely, almost satisfied way back to him. His hand flicked in a
motion traditionally reserved for cigarettes as he smiled, "We thought you
might say something like that."
Really, Vash had no
right to be so surprised. His friends were cunning and not at all forgiving of
his waffling. However, that foreknowledge did not prevent him from gaping openly
as he read the dangerous glint in Meryl's eye.
Overly casual, she
shrugged, "We don't mind . . . sharing."
He swallowed
nervously and considered backing away from the two, but away was toward the bed
and he didn't want to help them out now. His concerns were proven when Wolfwood
stepped forward and drew Vash to himself quickly without sacrificing the current
distance to what now appeared to be his goal. In fact, he thought Wolfwood might
have actually edged him further into the room.
Oh shit.
If not enraptured by
the sight of that fascinating shade of blue a bare centimeter from his own eyes
he might have seen Meryl's nervous reaction as the priest's lips fell across his
own. He continued staring for a moment before he was assured that the kiss was
nothing more than a sweet brush and closed his eyes to enjoy it. Vaguely unaware
of his actions, he slid the tip of his tongue across a caressing lip. So that
was what blue tasted like. Vash felt his friend smile against the kiss.
Meryl cleared her
throat. The foot tapping was back as Vash drew away from Wolfwood, who
maintained a possessive hand on the blonde man's arm. Vash looked down at the
firm grip and back at his friend with an arched eyebrow before Wolfwood
sheepishly removed it.
Meryl was decidedly
uneasy with the proceedings. Sure, Vash had decided not to decide, but he could
just reverse that statement, right? Wolfwood had kissed him and he'd kissed
back, and what if that was it?
But without another
glance at the dark haired man, Vash was suddenly before her, laying a palm
against the edge of her face and leaning in. All the anger and worry drained
from her face as she pressed her hand to the back of his neck. On tip toes she
met him, silently, with blood or elation humming in her ears. His hand tangled
in her hair, soft and black as it caught beneath fingernails.
Carefully, he urged
her closer, deepening the kiss and denying the air around them. Her slim body
clung to his own and he was sure they didn't need to breathe.
Wolfwood examined
the pair critically, grumbling, "I didn't get that much tongue."
Vash ignored him,
but nonetheless broke off the kiss. Meryl lowered herself to her feet once more,
extended arms refusing to relinquish the embrace. She burrowed into the ragged
sweat shirt of his sleep wear, turning her smiling eyes to him.
"Mmm, that
would probably be a lot easier on us both lying down," she murmured.
Coming up from
behind, Wolfwood ran a callused hand across Vash's shoulders, messy hair
tickling the base of his neck as he kissed the outlaw's collar bone. It was in
that moment, gently being nudged towards a bed that loomed ever closer and
senses blissfully overloaded, that Vash panicked. Caught between the pair, he
was unable to disentangle himself from either without falling into the other's
eager arms, but he managed to break from their overtures for a moment.
Breathless and far
shriller than he'd hoped, he stuttered, "B-but, I have-haven't ever done
this before!"
Meryl and Wolfwood
paused, sharing a thoughtful moment across his shoulder. Wolfwood stepped around
him and pushed him lightly to sit on the bed. Wearing identical "neither
have we" expressions, they voiced their curiosity.
"Slept with
another man?" began the rumpled looking priest.
"Or had a
threesome?" finished Meryl.
Vash's eyes, a
blue-green that fascinated both his companions, fell to the floor. A nervous
hand rubbed still crackling hair as he looked anywhere but at those doubly
adoring and disturbingly compassionate gazes.
"Umm, had
sex?"
To the best of their
ability, Meryl and Wolfwood managed to keep each other from toppling without
actually touching. That and their near hysterical shock Vash filed immediately
under Bad Signs. Wolfwood's sharp, unfunny laugh also found itself in that
category.
"How?" he
gasped. "How is that possible?"
Hugging himself, he
mumbled, "Well, I didn't have the time and all the girls are afraid of me
and their boyfriends are always threatening me and . . ." he curled more
into himself, even quieter, "and what would Rem think?"
"Oh, Vash,"
sighed Meryl. He wasn't sure what was more disconcerting, Meryl's sudden
softness or how quickly she'd curled herself into his lap. When exactly had that
happened?
Wearing an irritated
expression reminiscent of earlier, Wolfwood slid down next to him, no less close
than one would expect in the situation. The priest nipped at an ear, breathing a
soft placation, "We'll be gentle."
Meryl's fragile
hands framed his face, not incidentally forcing Wolfwood to be elsewhere, lest
he lose an eye. She smiled tenderly, "We shouldn't have expected anything
else from you."
Vash didn't think
he'd ever seen Meryl smile at him as often in the entire time he'd known her as
she had in the past ten minutes. For that matter, he didn't think Wolfwood had
gone so long without doing bodily harm to his person before.
And what was this
"we" stuff?
This time it was
Wolfwood who managed to edge out his competition, almost roughly forcing him
down on the bed and neatly shoving Meryl out of the way. He grinned at the
blonde as he hovered momentarily over Vash, the long, lean length of his body
pressing down in a way that made the outlaw gasp.
Wolfwood caught his
mouth then, tasting the almost moan and shifting against him to elicit another.
Vash's hands slid under the other man's shirt to stroke his sides and lightly
grip those supple muscles that were flexing against his own. Between kisses,
obviously pleased that his friend was finally warming to his advances, Wolfwood
sighed, "Mm, that's nice, Tongari."
Vash's eyes snapped
open as several frightening connotations to his nickname suddenly occurred to
him. Perhaps feeling Vash's discomfort or, more likely, Meryl's questing hands
attempting to remove Vash's shirt, Wolfwood broke off the kiss. He settled back
onto his knees, continuing to straddle the blonde and conveniently thwarting
escape.
Meryl's fingernails
scraped provocatively against sensitized flesh as the fabric rustled. He inhaled
the overbearing heat that had collected within the shirt as it paused briefly
over his head. Eyes narrowed with delight, Meryl twisted her wrist, discarding
the clothing over the side of the bed.
A delicate hand
grazed over his shoulder, softly touching a scar, "Isn't that better?"
Vash shivered, and
for a moment was almost comfortable with the combined sensation of Wolfwood's
weight and Meryl's glancing touches. For confirmation, his lovers tilted closer
for another kiss.
And collided with a
resounding thump.
"Could you
watch where you're going?!" growled Meryl, fingers gingerly exploring what
would become a lump.
"Me? I was just
taking my rightful turn," shot back the priest, evidently not in enough
pain to let go of Vash.
Meryl's free hand
clenched, "Excuse me?! I was just trying to get my turn, you greedy . .
." she waved her fist wildly, "Stop bogarting the Vash-lovin'!"
Wolfwood's eyes
followed her fist angrily a moment, before he closed them and took a deep,
shuddering breath. Letting it out, he attempted to mollify her, "Okay,
okay. Maybe I was. But if we're going to go any farther, we're going to have to
figure out who's in charge."
She shrugged,
"Simple. Me."
"Right, short
girl. How exactly?"
"You've met me,
haven't you?" she responded glibly.
He nodded seriously.
And then extended an arm, easily bowling her over, "I don't think so."
She rocked back
upright, eying him disdainfully, "So you're suggesting yourself. Why am I
not surprised?"
"I supposed
it's just the way God intended things."
Meryl raised an
eyebrow, "Exactly which scripture approves of priests having kinky
three-way sex with outlaws and insurance agents?"
Wolfwood grumbled
something obscene.
Raising his hand,
Vash drew the attention back to himself, "Um, how about me?"
"No!" they
refused. Oh sure, they chose now to agree.
Meryl laughed
shortly, patting him on the cheek, "That's cute, Vash."
Vash blinked. And
blinked again as the argument resumed. He pulled himself away from the now
distracted Wolfwood, huddling against the bed's headboard with his arms around
his knees to watch them. Hiding his face in his leggings, the outlaw smiled.
They were both pretty cute when they were arguing, but . . .
But what? he
asked himself in shock. Meryl gestured emphatically at Wolfwood. He barely
dodged. They were cute true. But watching them he felt a twist of pain -
disappointment and fear and . . . too many things, he sighed internally.
Maybe if he could get away he could figure it out. If he stayed, not that it
currently seemed like anything was going to happen, he'd just ignore that
niggling hesitation.
Without glancing
over the side, he snagged his shirt from the floor and slid from the bed. He
pulled it on as he walked away, listening to the argument escalate.
"I'm
condescending?! I'm not the full of himself priest who, might I add, dresses
like a whore!"
Regretful steps took
the outlaw completely out of the room. Closing his eyes, hoping to hear
something to draw him back, away from his doubts, he leaned against the wall
just beside his door.
"What does how
I dress have to do with anything, you prim witch?"
There was a choking
sound within, high pitched enough for Vash to assume it to be Meryl's shock
and not an actual attempt on Wolfwood's life.
"Prim?!"
"Yeah, prim!
You dress like my grandma!"
The bed sheets
rustled. Ah, the attempt on Wolfwood's life. Apparently he survived, a
slightly roughened voice gasping out, "Okay, okay! You don't! But this
isn't getting us anywhere."
Meryl let out a
shuddering breath and agreed begrudgingly, "You're right, we still don't
know who's . . ." she trailed off for a moment. Vash imagined her
blushing as she continued, "on top."
They were silent.
Vash drew a hand over his face, praying desperately that this was the end.
"Well, we need
to be fair for something this important. Paper rock scissors?" Wolfwood
suggested
"No better
way."
Vash groaned. This
was demeaning. And didn't they even notice he was gone? The cheers from inside
seemed to indicate otherwise.
"Tie breaker.
One! Two! Throw!"
"What is
that?" Meryl sneered. "Scissors going for a walk?"
"What does it
matter? Scissors are scissors and beat the Hell out of your paper."
Right. They weren't
going to be leaving. He wasn't going to be sleeping. As yelling once more
commenced, he decided there was only one place for him to find comfort.
The bar.
Vash sighed and
pushed away from the wall, determined to ignored the new twist his friends'
argument had taken. It almost sounded like they'd found a new way to decide.
He paused before the stair case to listen.
"Ha! Donut
beats gunman!"
Or not.
He shook his head as
he descended. Was that their idea of love?
The distance between
Vash and his erstwhile lovers did nothing to muffled Meryl's scream of
outrage, "Stop doing dirty things to my gunman!"
Her call was
followed by a noise that sounded remarkably like a sexually frustrated,
dark-haired priest being forcefully propelled by a small insurance agent out of
bed and into the splintery floor.
Vash winced in
sympathy.
~ ~ ~ ~
notes: Where to start?
Okay, the Vash is a virgin thing. This is an instance of me writing
something I personally don't believe (sorta like the Oedipus complex
thing). I think he has had some extremely serious relationships in his
life and is therefore not a virgin. However, I do think that's it's an
under-represented possibility. shrug And I thought it was
funny at the time.
Also, I tried to be even handed when it
came to Vash's interaction with Meryl and Wolfwood as love interests.
Wolfie gets more action, but Meryl gets a stronger argument (in my
opinion). If I come off biased . . . well, I am biased so that
shouldn't really shock anyone. But also don't be surprised if my bias
switches to an alt pairing in the future. I damn near converted to KxM,
you know.
Trigun is copyright (c) Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours.