Summary: Vash and Wolfwood in wrestling matches. Molestation ensues.
Disclaimer: Trigun belongs to Yasuhiro Nightow, not me.
A/N: This fanfic is the result of reading one particular judo manga and one WxV fic too many. This is my first attempt at writing yaoi, so please be gentle with the criticisms. I know that my style of writing isn't very suited for this, but I hope I didn't do too badly.
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Wrestling
A Trigun fanfiction by ntc
It started off innocent enough.
Vash feebly crawled back to the inn after another one of his attempts at play with the children and street urchins in town. By 'play', it usually meant either being shot down by sucker darts or having joints bent in odd angles by firm strangleholds. Was it his imagination or were children becoming increasingly violent with each new generation? He really had to stop this hobby of his one day. Even though his body was toughened (and scarred) by years of continual training and battles, there was only so much abuse his body could endure after all.
He was just straightening his spine with loud cracks and pops when Wolfwood, his chain-smoking travelling companion, spoke in an amused tone, "You're hopeless in close-ranged combat, Tongari. Absolutely hopeless."
Vash tilted his head sideways in an attempt to rid himself of the crick in his neck. "I was playing with kids, Wolfwood. It's presumptuous of you to judge my abilities before you've even seen me fight in earnest."
Wolfwood narrowed his eyes, apparently interpreting his retort as a challenge. "Really? I admit that you're good with a gun but I doubt..."
"I'm not talking about shooting with a gun." Vash struck a dramatic pose which he thought was vaguely kung fu-ish. It was something he recalled watching on one of the vids in the SEEDS mother ship, but the title of the show eluded him now. "Ten boxes of doughnuts say that I can beat you in a wrestling match any time, any day." It suddenly occurred to Vash that what he was doing was going against all his pacific tendencies. What had possessed him to issue a challenge like that? Maybe it had something to do with the hunger pangs gnawing at his stomach. However, before he could withdraw his challenge, Wolfwood spoke up.
"Ten packets of cigarettes say otherwise."
Oh well, guess it's too late now. Besides, Vash needed to polish up his skills every now and then lest they become rusty.
Two minutes later, Wolfwood was slapping the ground and crying 'Uncle' as Vash sat on his back and started pulling the priest's legs backwards towards his own head. A contortionist could have withstood such a curled up position without pain. Wolfwood was not a contortionist.
Ten minutes later, Vash was happily stuffing his mouth with doughnuts.
xXxXxXx
"I demand a rematch."
Vash groaned. Wolfwood had become obsessed with beating him ever since he had tasted defeat five days ago; and every additional defeat since then had only served to fuel that obsession. If he had known that Wolfwood was such a sore loser, he would have been more discreet and deliberately lose a couple of times. "No thanks. I think I've had enough doughnuts to last me a while."
"Salmon sandwiches then!" snapped his irate companion. "And I resent that you're already assuming that you'll win!"
"If I lose to you, will you forget about this whole wrestling business and return to normal?" said Vash in a placatory tone.
Wolfwood growled, "If you lose on purpose, I'll kick your ass, empty a magazine into you and feed you to the sandworms."
Right. Now that made the situation a lot more difficult to deal with. "Look, it's not that I'm better than you or anything. I had more practice, that's all." A hundred years' more practice, to be exact.
"Enough of the false modesty already! Prepare yourself!" Having shed his black priest top, Wolfwood rolled up the long sleeves of his white shirt and cracked his knuckles ominously.
"Er... you do remember that punching is against the rules, right?" asked Vash nervously.
Without bothering to answer, Wolfwood charged. Vash spun, threw his back against Wolfwood's chest and used the forward momentum to flip him head over heels and onto the sandy ground. He maintained his grip on Wolfwood's collar to decrease the force of impact. Wolfwood had yet to master the skill of breaking his falls properly, so Vash was careful not to slam Wolfwood's body onto the ground too hard. However, the ingrate used this to his advantage by clamping Vash's arm between his hands and legs and forcing the blond outlaw to tumble onto the ground next to him. Vash landed flat on his face.
"Hey!" protested Vash, spitting sand from his mouth. "Your feet had left the ground and you were flat on your back! By rights, this match is over!"
"New rule. You have to keep your opponent on his back for thirty seconds before a victory can be declared."
"You can't just make up new rules as you... Ack!" Vash yelped as Wolfwood began to painfully stretch the tendons of his captured right arm. 'Okay, you asked for it,' thought Vash grimly as he moved to free his arm from Wolfwood's hold. Wolfwood's wrestling skills had definitely improved, for it took Vash more than a minute to reverse their positions through a series of lightning-quick body twists, shifting of limbs and hand grasps on clothing. It used to take him less than ten seconds.
With one of Wolfwood's arms pinioned between his knees, Vash said, "Say 'uncle'?" Vash had a firm grip on the priest's wrist and if he were so inclined, he could have easily dislocated Wolfwood's elbow.
Wolfwood muttered something unprintable in response.
Vash sighed. "Let's just call it quits for today, alright? You don't even have to pay for my dinner." Vash gingerly released Wolfwood's arm, half-expecting another surprise attack by the other man.
As Wolfwood drew his arm back, his fingers lightly brushed against one of Vash's sensitive areas. Even with leather and straps in between, the accidental touch still caused Vash to jerk away as if stung.
Wolfwood noticed his odd reaction. "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing." Vash tried to cover his discomfiture with laugh that would have made a hyena proud. "I thought some insect crawled up my leg, that's all."
Wolfwood studied him quietly for a few moments before breaking into a grin. "Same time tomorrow evening?"
For some reason, that grin filled Vash with the utmost dread. "Wolfwood, I really don't wish to..."
But Wolfwood had walked away before he even finished talking.
xXxXxXx
The same thing happened again during their next wrestling match.
Vash was silently counting to thirty with Wolfwood securely pinned flat on his back when Wolfwood, whether by accident or intent, brushed against his inner thigh again with an almost innocent swipe of a finger. It was a ghostly touch, almost a caress, and it sent a jolt through Vash as if he had been prodded with a live wire. The sensation was not entirely unpleasant, but it did break his concentration long enough for Wolfwood to free himself from Vash's hold. However, Vash quickly recovered from his brief paralysis and managed to keep Wolfwood on the ground by standing up suddenly while holding onto the man's ankles. That position had the additional advantage of keeping Wolfwood's straying hands as far away from his body as possible. Vash had a niggling suspicion that the touch had been anything but accidental. He breathed a sigh of relief when the thirty seconds were up.
The children who had gathered around the two combatants cheered and Vash bowed with the satisfaction of a magician who had just performed a particularly impressive trick. His evening matches with Wolfwood had gradually attracted quite a large audience. Both of them really should leave the town before they start attracting attention of the wrong sort; namely, the trigger-happy and bounty-hungry sort.
Vash's cheerful mood did not last long, for Wolfwood passed by him and whispered, "Enjoy your moments of victory while you still can, Tongari."
Wolfwood sounded so… confident. Vash suppressed a shudder that had nothing to do with the temperature of the air surrounding him. Unlike Wolfwood, it mattered little to him whether he wins or loses their wrestling matches. Then why was he so bothered by the thought of having to face Wolfwood again?
xXxXxXx
They had left the town and were traversing the desert together on Wolfwood's motorcycle. After a few unsuccessful attempts to strike up a friendly conversation with an unusually taciturn Wolfwood (more taciturn than usual, anyway), Vash counted sand dunes to pass the time. He would have hummed Rem's favourite song if it wasn't for the fact that the last time he did that, Wolfwood had booted him off the bike. So maybe he was a tad tone-deaf, but Wolfwood's reaction was still too extreme in his opinion. They decided to set up camp for the night when the first moon became visible.
Vash was about to tear into his dinner when Wolfwood said, "Don't eat just yet. Physical activity after a meal is bad for you."
"What physical activity?" asked Vash, chewing on one of his leftover doughnuts from last night. "I plan to sleep straight after this."
In reply, Wolfwood rolled up his sleeves and did some stretching exercises.
"Can't you give it a rest for just one day?" Vash complained, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. His head was starting to hurt.
"Nope."
Vash frowned. Wolfwood had a look on his face that could almost be described as 'eager'. "Well, I'm not in the mood for wrestling. Ever. Especially with you. This silly competition has gone on long enough."
"It's over when I say it's over."
"Good night," said Vash with a tone of finality. He lay down on the sand and turned his back on the priest, pointedly bringing the discussion to a close. Closing his eyes, Vash decided to ignore Wolfwood for the rest of the night. That morally bankrupt priest could be downright infuriating at times. His eyes flew open when he felt a warm body pressing against his back. It did not take him long to figure out whose body it was, as the lingering smell of cigarette smoke filled his nostrils. "What the hell are you doing?" demanded Vash, making a conscious effort not to stutter. His use of coarse language, so uncharacteristic of his usual self, hinted at his slightly panicking mind.
"If you don't want to resist, it's fine by me," said Wolfwood, his breath blowing past Vash's ear, which just so happened to be another of Vash's sensitive spots. Like a cat being doused with ice-cold water, Vash squawked and frantically tried to scrabble away. Wolfwood prevented further retreat by hooking one of Vash's legs with his own.
Vash saw that he had no choice but to resume their wrestling match in order to get Wolfwood to leave him alone. He twisted sharply to lie on his back and attempted to throw the priest over him by using a leg placed over the abdomen for leverage. Unfortunately, while Vash was in that position, Wolfwood was able to gain easy access to the junction between his legs. Vash promptly lost his grip on the Wolfwood's sleeves and both of them winded up in a tangle of limbs.
"S-stop that!" yelped Vash, struggling to push Wolfwood away. "Tickling is against the rules!"
Wolfwood raised his eyebrows incredulously. "You thought that was… tickling?"
"What else can it…" Vash had to clamp his jaws shut in order to muffle the whimper that was threatening to escape from his throat. He could not understand why his body was reacting so intensely to Wolfwood's light touches. He had borne gunshots and knife stabs without even flinching, and here he was, making sounds like a beaten dog in response to a stimulus that was nowhere near his pain threshold. Determined to bring an end to the fight before he could embarrass himself any further, Vash tried to wrap his arm around Wolfwood's neck in a headlock. His attempt was foiled when Wolfwood's fingers slid under his trench coat and danced along his lower abdomen, effectively locking his limbs in a spasm.
Wolfwood appeared to be enjoying himself way too much to be decent. "I never knew you're so sensitive."
"W-will you c-cut that out!" That was not panic in his voice. He was not in a panic. "Alright, you win. I'll even buy you ten packets of those carcinogenic sticks you're so fond off. Just get off me right now!"
"Can't do that," said a smiling Wolfwood, his undulating hands not stopping for a second. "Don't tell me you've forgotten the rules already."
"What r-rules?" Vash gasped, trying to catch his breath.
"Thirty seconds, remember?"
Vash bucked when Wolfwood's hands began straying south of his abdomen. "T-this isn't… a proper wrestling… match… anymore!" It was difficult to think when his mind was awash with a sensation that he had no name for. Not only was it difficult to think, it was also difficult to get his body to do anything aside from reacting to that sensation.
"I agree," said Wolfwood, giving his bottom a squeeze that had him shuddering helplessly. "Why place any time limits on this, eh?"
Vash had to swallow a retort and bite his lip. More obscene sounds were trying to make their way past his vocal cords.
Wolfwood leaned forward to kiss away the trail of blood that had seeped from his bitten lip. "You can scream out loud, you know. No one's gonna hear you."
"Y-you… pervert!"
Under Wolfwood's experienced ministrations, Vash did end up screaming that night.
xXxXxXx
"Come on, how long are you going to sulk?"
Curled up in a fetal position with a blanket tightly wrapped around himself, Vash maintained his icy silence.
Wolfwood chuckled. "I know you've enjoyed it as much as me."
Vash turned to glare at the priest. "I could have shot you, you know. Or have you forgotten that this cybernetic arm of mine has an in-built gun in it?"
"Ah, but you didn't, and you couldn't," said Wolfwood smugly from his position next to where Vash was lying. "Love and peace, remember?"
Vash was about to say something nasty in reply when he suddenly found his lips engulfed by Wolfwood's cigarette-tasting ones. He soon forgot what he was about to say and surrendered himself to the moment. Wolfwood was just as skilled with his tongue as with his hands.
Perhaps they could have another wrestling match tomorrow.
(End of fic)