"Innkeep! You have a room free?"
The clerk behind the counter looked from Wolfwood's frantic face to the unresponsive blonde man slung over the priest's shoulder. He lifted a disapproving eyebrow, prompting Wolfwood to growl in frustration and yell, "It's not like that! Do you have a room or not?"
The innkeeper fetched a pair of keys from the wall behind him and tossed them at the preacher. "Number twelve."
"Thanks. I'll be back to pay."
Nicholas hauled what people seemed to think was his drunken whore, judging by the expressions on their faces as he passed, up the stairs and to the room. Quickly, he took Vash to the bathroom, set him down on the floor, and turned on the shower.
"Let's get you out of this, Spikey," he muttered while undoing the buttons on the Humanoid Typhoon's crimson coat.
Vash remained wholly unresponsive as Nicholas removed the article of clothing. What the coat had hid under it made Wolfwood look at the man's body dumbfounded.
"Are you serious?"
He sighed, taking in all the buckles and straps that adorned the leather armor suit. Deciding it wasn't worth the time, he lifted Vash in to the tub and laid him in it.
"Hopefully that'll cool you off and wake you up."
The sound of water falling reached him first, followed by the cold sensation of it hitting his skin. When had it started to rain? The last thing he really remembered was the hot suns beating on his neck.
Happily, he let the droplets fall in to his parched mouth. He drank for a minute or so before his eyes finally opened. Instantly, he was confused.
"Huh? Where am I?"
With a groan, he got himself to his feet and turned the water off. From the other room, he heard clinking of dishes. The realization he was not alone made him instinctively reach for his gun, and slight panic shot through him at the absence of it from his hip.
"Shit," he whispered.
He took a deep breath, stepped out of the tub, and silently stalked toward the doorway. His back was pressed against the wall, his ears straining to hear anything else and receiving nothing. Cautiously, he peered around the corner, spotted his company, and immediately flattened himself against the wall again. His brow furrowed in anger, eyes alight with surprise and vexation.
What the hell is he doing here?! How did he find me?!
"You might as well join me; I know you're there," he heard the priest announce.
Vash gritted his teeth and entered the room. He sat down stiffly at the table across from Nicholas, never letting his gaze stray from the gray-blue ones watching him in turn. A pitcher of water, a couple bottles of alcohol, two glasses, two bowls, a platter of salmon sandwiches, and a pot of Tomas soup adorned the table top.
"Figured you'd be hungry," Nicholas stated casually.
The way he spoke, so calmly and easily, it was as if he had never put a gun to his friend's head; it made Vash's skin crawl. Wolfwood had some damn nerve.
Sighing as if exasperated, the preacher shrugged and took a quarter of a full sandwich. "Suit yourself."
"Why are you here?" Vash questioned, his voice dripping with a tinge of venom.
"Shouldn't you be saying, 'Thank you for saving my life?' That would be more appropriate."
"Don't patronize me, Wolfwood. There wouldn't have been a life to save if you had pulled the damn trigger like you were hired to do."
There was no answer. Nicholas merely continued eating.
"What stopped you?"
"Call it 'Divine Intervention' if you want to give it a name."
"You couldn't do it. Why?"
Nicholas exhaled another breath, annoyed. "Would you shut up and eat? You're dehydrated and starved."
Vash glared at him for a brief moment before he gave in and poured himself a bowl of soup. They ate in silence, the blonde continuing to regard Wolfwood closely. He sensed his firearm was on the desk in the corner; it'd be so easy with his abilities to retrieve it and lodge a bullet in the preacher's shoulder with Wolfwood having no damn clue what hit him. Vash didn't believe in killing, but he certainly felt justified to put this traitor in a sling for a bit. In the pit of his heart, however, he knew he couldn't bring himself to purposely hurt Wolfwood; he still had deep-rooted feelings for the other man.
When they finished, they stared at one another for a long period. Nicholas' expression remained stoic, though his stomach churned with guilt from the presence of hurt and dull rage burning in the piercing jade eyes. There was no getting out of this one. Without words, Vash was demanding answers, and he knew he was going to have to eventually give them.
"Well?" he ultimately offered lamely.
"How could you?" The tone in the blonde's voice had morphed in to one that revealed immense bewilderment and heartache.
"I'm a mercenary for hire, I suppose. If the price is right."
"And his was?"
Nicholas removed a cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it. "I had to do what I thought was best. And what was best was protecting those kids. What would you have done?"
For the first time since sitting down, Vash glanced away and said nothing.
"I'm not going to apologize to you, Vash. We both know it won't do anything. I'm not going to pretend I shouldn't have done it either. I do regret it, though."
"How can I trust anything you say?"
The priest took a long drag from the cigarette. He exhaled fully before responding with curt honesty, "You can't. I understand that. I'm not going to beg for forgiveness. I know it takes more than that to earn back someone's trust."
"Wolfwood…." His eyes once again met the preacher's. "Why didn't you pull the trigger?"
"Change of heart, I guess. Whether I like to admit it, you've grown on me." Nicholas felt a weight leave him when he saw the blonde's lips quirk upward in a gentle smile. "Call it a hunch, but…." He took one last hit from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray. "Something tells me you're this planet's only hope, Vash the Stampede."
Vash gave a skeptical laugh. "Your God tell you that?"
"Well, I am one of his humble servants."
The air was heavy with grave seriousness before Vash broke the pause after several minutes.
"I don't know if I can do it, Nicholas," he admitted softly, almost shamefully. He closed his eyes, holding the tears that threatened to fall as he thought of Rem's last words.
"Take care of Knives!"
"He's become stronger than me. I can feel it; I can feel his power."
"Don't sell yourself too short, needle-noggin."
"You don't understand."
"I understand that you're scared. It's perfectly natural. What it comes down to is are you going to accept that and fight like hell regardless?"
"I….I can't let her down. I can't let him destroy everything she represented….everything she taught us…."
"Then I think your decision is made."
Wolfwood filled their empty water glasses a quarter of the way full with whiskey. He held his up towards Vash, who took the offer and touched his cup against it.
I'll take care of him, Rem, he thought determinedly. I promised. I'll do whatever it takes.
"Where you sleeping?"
"The bed."
"That's funny, cause I'm pretty sure that's where I'm sleeping."
"Not only did I pay for the room, I saved your life. I think I'll be taking it."
The two men stared at each other stubbornly before they both suddenly bolted for the bed. Wolfwood lunged, tackled the blonde to the ground, and then rapidly continued towards the piece of furniture in question.
"Damn it, Spikey! Just accept it and sleep on the damn floor!"
Vash grabbed the priest's ankle, stopping Wolfwood abruptly. "I don't think so!"
They proceeded to wrestle and fend one another off as they made their way to the opposite side of the room where the bed was.
"It's mine!" Vash exclaimed finally, reaching a hand out to grasp the blanket on top.
Despite Wolfwood trying to pull him back to the ground, he wiggled out of the preacher's grasp and climbed atop the mattress. With a smug grin, he closed his eyes, put his hands behind his head, and stretched out.
"Ah, so comfy. You'll really be missing out, Wolfy."
"Oh shut it, you bastard."
"Hey! Come on!" He opened one eye to take in the annoyed expression on the other man's visage. "I'm the one who's sick! I almost died, remember?!"
"Yeah, I should've just left you there."
"Now that's not very church-man like."
Nicholas was grateful to find a few extra blankets and a pillow in the wardrobe, which he used to make as good a bed as any on the floor. While he was busy with that, Vash removed his leather outfit and changed in to a pair of loose pants and a shirt. He hadn't noticed the dark haired man stealing glances at his unclothed body.
Once Nicholas was done, he turned off the light and changed in to a new set of clothes as well.
"Sure hope you enjoy that," he said grumpily, covering himself with a sheet.
"Mmm….I will. Good night, Wolfy."
"I hate when you call me that." In all honesty, he secretly loved that Vash had given him a nickname….a pet name, almost.
"You call me 'Spikey' and 'needle-noggin.' I think it's only fair you get something too."
"You are a needle-noggin. Now go to sleep. You need it."
Not until Vash was peacefully asleep did Wolfwood close his eyes and join him in slumber.
"AHHH! No more! Somebody help! HELP!"
Nicholas bolted upright from his place on the floor, stumbled to his feet to fetch one of his handguns, and rushed to the window next to the bed. The sound of his friend's cries for aid sent his heart pounding in to a frenzy.
What could that walking disaster have gotten himself in to already?!
He threw open the window, wildly pointing his gun from one direction to the other as he tried to spot where the commotion was coming from.
In the middle of the town square, there was Vash: neighborhood kids piled atop him as they enthusiastically roughhoused with the sixty-billion-double-dollar man.
"Jeeze, Spikey. Thanks for waking me so rudely," Nicholas grumbled. He smiled, however. The famous outlaw had few things in this world to make him happy, and Nicholas thought it odd but cute how spending time and having fun with the local kids gave Vash such joy. Even if it was at the expense of the blonde's muscles and pride.
"Hey Wolfwood!"
Nicholas shook his head slightly to break from his thoughts.
"You wanna join us?!" Vash called to him. "Hey! Watch it down there!" he lightly scolded a couple of the gang due to one of them kicking just a little too close to a very sensitive body part.
"Nah, that's alright. It looks like you've got this under control."
"But….AHHHH! Wolfwood!"
The priest chuckled as the children continued their fighting and conquering of the infamous Vash the Stampede. Once they had decided they had caused sufficient amount of damage and their prisoner gladly waved the white flag, the kids cheered in victory. Vash laughed cheerfully and got to his feet. He gave each of them a few coins to get themselves ice-cream as a reward, and as Wolfwood stared at the gunman – witnessing such a pure and jovial smile – he felt a tinge of sympathy and sadness for him. This man would never have children of his own to spend time with, would never be a father. Wolfwood wondered if Vash would even have – or ever had – a person to share his life with. It was a rough life and one that would either end abruptly at the hands of his twin brother or proceed to be a long one as it had already been. He had an enormous amount of love to give, Wolfwood knew, but was there anyone who wanted it and was willing to reciprocate?
"Oh hey! It's the insurance girls!" Vash exclaimed gleefully.
"Hi Mr. Vash!" Millie greeted warmly as her and her co-worker rushed towards the outlaw.
"Is everything alright?!" Meryl asked frenziedly. "We heard you yelling from three blocks over and came as quickly as we could. What happened?"
"Nothing serious," Vash chuckled. "Just having some fun. What are you two doing here?"
"We heard rumors you might be in this city, so of course we had to come see for ourselves; it is our job."
"Aw jeeze, and here I thought this was a fortuitous reunion."
"That's dependable Meryl for you!" Millie interjected. "Always doing her job!"
Meryl folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. "As long as you're still wandering this planet, Vash the Stampede, there's always going to be some sort of damage wherever you turn up at. I'm just glad to see we're not too late and prevent you from causing any trouble."
"Me?! I don't know what you're talking about!" Vash protested with feigned offense. "I was kinda hoping you two were done following me around. I think you're the ones trouble follows."
"Are you serious?!" Meryl shouted furiously. "There's a reason there's sixty-billion-double-dollars on your head and why you're known as the Humanoid Typhoon!"
Millie gave a small laugh, embarrassed. "Don't mind her, Mr. Vash. She's just always so stressed."
"I can tell. Sheesh. Come on! Let me buy you both some lunch!"
"Really?! You mean it?!" Millie asked delightedly, clapping her hands together.
"Sure! Hey Wolfy! You want to come down for lunch with us?"
Nicholas rolled his eyes at the use of his new nickname. "Alright. Give me a minute."
As he got dressed, the preacher smirked. "That's typical Vash the Stampede for you. Always so damn chipper with everybody."
Vash had a fit of the giggles, like a little schoolgirl, and Wolfwood was thankful the man was a fun and polite drunk rather than an angry one. The two of them had an arm slung across the other's shoulders as they stumbled and shuffled back to the inn. They had gone out for drinks with the insurance girls earlier in the night; it was now two in the morning.
"Would you quiet down?" Nicholas said slightly annoyed, though actually found Vash's childish drunk side amusing.
After having to stop a couple of times on the stairs in order to catch their footing, they made it in to their room and sat down on the bed.
"I'm beginning to think you can't hold your liquor well, Spikey."
"What are you talking about?!" the blonde's words were slurred together. "I'm-I'm just fine. Haven't thrown up once. Pretty good if you ask me."
"Surprising, if you ask me." Wolfwood was about to move to the floor when a hand grasped his arm and stopped him.
"Why don't you sleep here with me? It'll be more comfortable."
Wolfwood blinked blankly; Vash smiled sweetly.
"Come on," Vash coaxed, lying down on his back and patted the space next to him.
Deciding it was not worth a protest, the priest stretched out beside him. The twin sized mattress barely accommodated the two bodies, prompting Wolfwood to observe, "Don't think this'll be much better than the floor, Spikey. I'm on the edge."
Not receiving a response, he looked over to find Vash soundly asleep. Nicholas sighed and shook his head.
"That didn't take long."
Lying on his side, the preacher silently observed the other man, studying every detail of the blonde's countenance. Only once had he seen Vash lose control and set free his remarkable power, had seen the giant wings protrude from the gunman's body; it had been then that he wondered if Vash the Stampede was a demon among the mortal world. Right now, however, as he gazed at the serene features of the other man, he reconsidered. This wasn't a beast from Hell; it was an angel. This bumbling, overly kind and trusting fool was an angel and the key to save them all.
Absentmindedly, he brushed his fingertips along Vash's cheek. Despite all the time he spent in the sun, the man's skin was exceptionally smooth and soft. Slowly, he glided his fingers downward and traced the silky lips of the prone figure. An involuntary moan came from Nicholas the instant he felt Vash's tongue flick against his creeping digits. He desperately wanted more. Boldly, he inserted his index finger into the man's mouth. He mildly probed the oral cavity, teased Vash's tongue, and grew immensely hard when the outlaw weakly sucked on the intruder. The sight and sensation drove Nicholas mad with desire. But there was no way he could do what he was now suddenly dying to do. After all, he was a priest.
Vash eventually stopped, mumbled something, and shifted to lie with his back to Wolfwood. The dark-haired man pressed himself against the outlaw's body, closed his eyes, and breathed in the blonde's scent. Musky and sweet all at once. He hesitated a brief moment before placing a kiss on the nape of the gunman's neck. His arm enveloped Vash as he continued kissing and gently suckling the pale skin. A shudder went through Vash's anatomy; Nicholas responded by tightening his embrace and pushing his erection against the blonde's round backside. It wasn't as if he was taking advantage; they were both fully clothed, after all. And in his sleep, Vash didn't seem to mind. In fact, he expelled a quiet noise of what Nicholas took as enjoyment, encouraging the preacher to reach under the red coat and inch his hand downward between the man's legs. Even though the leather suit Vash wore was skin-tight, Nicholas could feel the gunman's erection pushing against the restraining fabric.
"God forgive me," he whispered.
He licked Vash's earlobe as he started to knead his comrade's cock. A tense expression replaced the calm one Vash had had; his legs rubbed together and his breathing became heavier.
"Nnnnhhh…." he moaned softly.
Nicholas didn't know when he had begun bucking his hips against Vash; his fondling of the other man's hard member grew more intense as he became more aggressive with his thrusts. Sweat glistened on the outlaw's face, and Wolfwood felt kinky enough to lick the sheen of it forming on Vash's neck.
"Uuhhnnn….nnhhhnnn…."
The uncontrolled sounds coming from Vash's now parted lips made Wolfwood firmly grip the man's hip and roughly thrust against him as if he were actually pounding in to Vash's body.
It wasn't long before he climaxed, clutching Vash securely to him.
A lengthy period went by before Wolfwood rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling through half-opened eyes. His comrade's breathing eventually returned to being deep and slow.
What in the hell did I just do? Nicholas thought guiltily. The probability was high that Vash would have no idea what had transpired when he woke in the morning, but it didn't ease the shame the priest now felt.
Vash uttered something in his dreamy state, though Nicholas couldn't discern it. A minute or so later, the blonde muttered again and this time, the preacher believed he caught what it was.
Knives.
The name prodded Wolfwood to sit up a little in order to see the other man's face. He was taken aback when Vash began to tremble and tears leaked from his now tightly closed eyes.
"Vash," he spoke soothingly, knowing the gunman probably wouldn't hear him in his sleep, though still thought it worth a try. "It's alright." He placed a hand on his comrade's shuddering shoulder. "It's alright."
When Nicholas finally fell asleep, Vash at last went still, cocooned affectionately in the priest's arms.