Hey folks!
So I wrote this one at 2am when I was meant to be cramming for an exam. And I have no spellcheck. And my proofreader has been asleep all day. So, this is full of typos, grammar errors and even bad spacing because word pad is a jerk with kerning. And I cannot see double spacing for the life of me.
And nice to meet you Lennie, you are my first fan 3 I'm writing this fic mostly for me but in part for a friend too, she's keeping me on the writing job- I try to get chapters out as fast as I can!
Enjoy~!
Edit: just realised that fanfiction doesn't show the less than sign, so every time a rogue 3 appears in my comments, it's meant to be a love heart. FANFICTION WHY DO YOU DENY MY LOVE.
He can't say he minded this.
The most Wolfwood usually got in the way of companionship was Vash's presence. When they weren't travelling together, he was simply alone. Even with his proffesion as a travelling priest he never got too chummy with people, he'd offer his services and move on, occasionally stopping to help a damsel in distress, some poor folk in need, or sweep a woman into his hotel room. People were just a short entertainment that he'd never encounter again, company for the day then gone forever. Except for Vash. Vash he'd find somewhere along the way, either by chance or intentially. Or the typhoon would find him, and check them both into a hotel- shared rooms, of course, he claimed it was to save money- and they'd spend their time drinking and rambling. It was in part due to Wolfwoods obligation- a contract he regretted more and more each day- but mostly because of his affection for the man. An affection that was made physical by their contact.
Wolfwood stumbled for his bed the moment it was in view, landing on his back with a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a content sigh. He thanked the high heavens that they'd passed a corner store on their trip back, and that he had enough coins left to trade for a new pack of smokes. Sure, he'd have to give up food for a few days thanks to a terrible condition called 'broke', but he was sure he could steal some of Vash's food... Assuming he had any money either.
Cursing quickly followed his collapse, as said smokes were tucked snuggly in his back pocket, the pocket he'd just fallen on. So much for keeping these ones intact.
Vash was oblivious to his partners destructive troubles. He'd bought himself a newspaper while Wolfwood was preoccupied with his nicotine adicction, and was now settling into a comfortable spot to read through it. Or at least, skip to the comics.
His comfortable spot of choice was his partner.
Wolfwood nearly burned his fingertips with his lit match when Vash dropped onto his bed, sitting just beside the priests knees. After a moment of annoyed fidgeting that made a nice crumple of fabric on Wolfwoods bed, Vash made a frustrated sound and grabbed the furthest leg from him, propped it up so the knee was bent, and leant against it like it were the back of a chair.
Wolfwood just stared in awe, the humanoid typhoon himself was on his bed, practically sitting between his legs. He yelped as his dying match nipped at his fingers.
Vash gave him a queer look as he unfolded the newspaper, scanned the front page for anything interesting. He hadn't actually looked at the paper when he bought it, and now he wished he hadn't had looked at all. The headline screamed danger like blood on the sand.
VASH THE STAMPEDE SIGHTED AT BALNALA.
He held the newspaper for Wolfwood to see the headline. Balnala was one of the towns they'd passed through to get to their current residence, they'd been there barely a few days earlier.
Wolfwood let out a sigh of smoke and crossed his arms behind his head. If the townsfolk were aware that the legendary outlaw was nearby- or if any keen bounty hunters caught the news- it might just mean the pair would have to leave town soon. Or expect a gunfight. Likely, both outcomes at once.
Wolfwood did not much fancy the idea of running from a storm of bullets, again. But he didn't much fancy the idea of leaving the little hotel either. It wasn't anything special, the cheapest of the cheap, seedy places that existed in the town, all they could really afford. He glanced down at the warm body leaning against him, Vash was flicking through the pages at a lazy pace, flopped contently against Wolfwood with his legs crossed and dangling off the side of the bed in a lady-like fashion. The way Vash sat sometimes looked so uncomfortable- and his abiltity to cross his legs made Wolfwood sore to see. Somehow he still seemed comfortable.
Wolfwood didn't want to move him. He didn't want to move himself, either.
"Yer starin' at me, Nick."
Vash stared back. Wolfwood hadn't realised that he had actually been zoning out in the typhoons direction. He met his gaze.
"What're you thinkin' about this situation? With the newspaper?"
The paper crumpled quietly as Vash folded it, then tossed it at the round, lopsided table that jutted out near the door like an ugly boulder. The newspaper missed by a few feet and pages exploded spectacularly in every direction. Vash sighed in defeat and dropped against Wolfwoods legs, intertwining his fingers on his chest.
"Ain't gunna think about it, Nick."
"And when people start shoutin' 'oh my god it's Vash the stampede!' and I get shot, can I punch you?"
"Wouldn't that count as domestic abuse, now?"
"We ain't married."
"I still think it counts." Vash was silent for a moment. He slumped further against his partner, his whole body mirroring the dejected look he now had. "I don't want to go nowhere just yet, Nick. M'sister wants me stayin' close.. Just for a little while."
Wolfwood didn't respond, and Vash looked away from him again, staring at the opposite wall instead.
"Y'know I used to travel with a girl," He turned his attention back to the priest as Wolfwood started to talk, a light hearted tone in his voice. "A scary piece of work this one. She could beat the crap out of any man and drank anyone under the table-usually me."
He tried to rub away the memory of all the hangovers.
"Anyway, we once got the marshal called on us. 'Domestic dispute' the folks in the next room had said, I got so many dirty looks from people in the hotel when the marshal knocked on our door... But that weren't as embaressing as explaining, in front of everyone, that the crazy lady had been throwing her bottles at me."
Vash snickered. Somehow he wasn't surprised that Wolfwood wasn't the violent party. He seemed to have a knack for finding company in people more crazy than him- hell, Vash admitted he was probably the best example of that fact.
"She even got me, too." he rubbed his head tenderly, soothing another memory. "Smacked me right in the head, hurt like hell."
"Glass kinda hurts." Vash said in agreement. He meant to mock Wolfwood, but in truth he had plenty of experience with how much glass could hurt. Though, he'd never been hit with a bottle. He had plenty of them thrown at him but was smart enough to dodge.
"She was a crazy chick."
Wolfwood stared at the ceiling. The peeling paint and hairline cracks that adorned every cheap hotel were in no shortage here, but he hadn't noticed them. Too busy in thought, he covered his face with palm and sighed.
"Now that I think about it, I've had a lot of crazy exes."
"You dated her?" Vash asked curiously, his full attention on his partner.
"I dated a lotta girls, Vash." His hand moved to scratch his cheek awkwardly, and he found he couldn't meet the typhoons gaze when his next thought came to mind. "Hell, I've even had a uh... fling, I guess... with a fella' once. Wasn't nothin' serious though, I think I only saw him that one night- wasn't nothing like... This."
Vash blushed and he looked away too, resuming his staring contest with the opposite wall.
The silence started to get awkward, and Wolfwood fidgeted, his gaze going back to the the typhoon. "What about you, Vash?"
"Huh?" He stared at him again, and seeing Vash's subtle blush made Wolfwood feel a bit better. It meant he wasn't alone in feeling awkward about this topic- but since they were dating now he felt they ought to at least mention it.
"You ever dated a guy, before?"
Vash shook his head so hard Wolfwood was worried it might fly off. The typhoon brought his knees to his chest and looked away again, a clear indicator that there was something more to this than he was letting on. Wolfwood wasn't sure what to make of it, he could picture Vash with a man far too easily- his goofy ways and gawdy style made him a much more convincing boyfriend than, say, Wolfwood. But at the same time, Vash was so secretive and a master of dodging questions, and always so... alone, that it was also impossible to imagine him in any sort of relationship. Vash flirted with every woman he came in contact with, so poorly that most just laughed him off, but his looks alone ought to at least have earned him some trips to a womans bedroom.
"Vash... You ever dated a girl...?"
"Uh..." The typhoon drummed his fingers on the armor of his knees, turning back to the priest but not looking at him. "... No..."
That wasn't entirely hard to believe. With Vash's vagabond lifestyle and the ridiculous bounty on his head, most girls would turn down the idea of staying with him. Unless they were as crazy as Vash himself. Good thing Wolfwood basically was.
"You at least slept with one though, right?"
The blush was back with a fury. Vash could only look at Wolfwood in silence, and that was all the answer Wolfwood needed. That did not make it any easier to believe. Wolfwood never wasted much energy on admiring guys, but he still managed to notice that Vash was absolutely gorgeous. Even with his terrible ability to flirt he could easily win any girl over.
"How?" was all the priest could manage.
"I got some reasons." Vash murmured. "But main one is I ain't really... That type of person, I guess."
"What? Gay?"
"Not before!" He was a little too quick to answer. Hello, insecurity. "I mean- not until you, Nick. I just ain't one for... bein' with people like that."
"Ain't one for sex?" Wolfwood snickered at Vash's response to last word. Vash was really just a big kid... He was so embaressed about this topic that it actually made Wolfwood relax. Though he had not expected his new boyfriend to be a damned virgin. "What about kissin'? Tell me you're at least a little experienced, spikey."
"Spikey?" Vash raised an eyebrow.
"You're spikey now." Witty, fitting, and a little cute. Wolfwood was quite proud of his choice of nickname.
"Now I've gotta give you a nickname, too."
"Nick is a nickname."
"Nu-uh. Ain't enough of one. It's just your name but short. People don't go around callin' me... Uh... V."
"That's exactly what a nickname is, Vash, yer name but shorter."
The typhoon was in silent thought for a moment. If ideas could be seen, then Wolfwood just saw one- through the transitition of surprise, excitement, and the smile on Vash's face. This did not bode well for him.
"Wolfy." Vash nodded in approval.
"Wolfy? Really? Cantcha at least try to be creative?"
"You called me spikey."
"Spikey ain't your last name."
"It could be."
Feeling his veins pinching, Wolfwood just accepted defeat and plucked his stubby cigarette from his teeth. He reached to butt it out on the ashtray, but found the damned thing practically teetering on the end of his bedside table.
"Just answer my question, Vash."
He couldn't quite reach the edge of the table with Vash sitting on him, he reluctantly pulled himself out from beneath the warm body and snuffed his cigarette.
"What question?"
The movement wasn't actually that bad. His legs had been going kind of numb with all the pressure cutting off his blood, and it gave him the chance to readjust the way they sat together. He mirrored Vash's pose as he sat beside him, hooking his arm around the typhoons shoulders and pulling him back so they both leant against the wall. Vash happily accepted the new dynamic and slipped into the space against Wolfwoods body like he'd been made to exist there.
"About your experience, spikey, just how far have you gotten with someone before? Like you at least fooled around with someone or was me kissin' you the only action you've gotten in your... what.. twenty-four years?"
"Closer to a hundred n' fifty..." Vash mumbled. Wolfwood hoped he'd misheard him. "I ain't that bad, Nick, I'm not completely new to it."
"So... I was right about me being the only one ta' kiss you?"
Wolfwood only meant to jab at Vashs pride with that line, but the man hadn't reacted with his usual outrage. That could only mean that he was right. He sure was sick of being right about this topic... He was kind of hoping Vash had at least spent a little quality time with someone, even having the sexual know-how of a high school kid would have sufficed.
But the idea of being the mentor to the humanoid typhoon on such a topic- that was an idea that had just occured to Wolfwood, and he was quickly excited about all the amazing things he would get to teach Vash...
... And Vash knew the priest had something foul in mind, judging by the increasing smirk his face.
He didn't get to question the madness of the mans mind, before he got the chance to speak Wolfwood had a hand holding his face, and not a moment later he had lips against his.
It always surprised Wolfwood just how quick Vash was to react. He had been boasting a little when he mentioned his past relationships, but he had a few partners that were completley new to the whole loving game. They were always slow and reluctant, never sure what to do in return when he made a move. Hands would dance around, unsure of where to hold, bodies stiff like wood and lips- well, they never knew what to do with those. Vash was the opposite. He was immediatley willing to explore, he pressed himself as close as he could possibly manage until the space between them simply ceased to exist. And the touching, Wolfwood revelled in Vash's eagerness to touch. His hands went everywhere he needed them, trailing up and down his back or squeezing gently at his sides. He wanted to touch everywhere and Wolfwood was happy to let him.
But, just as he'd expected, Vash was bad at kissing.
Lucky for him Wolfwood was a keen and passionate teacher. Vash was like nothing he'd ever had the pleasure of enjoying. The taste of sweetness and something inherently Vash was simply addictive, his body moved on its own in search of more of the delicious taste- his tongue swiped along Vashs lips in slow movements, he kissed the gunmans jawline and ravished his lips. His skin was just as flavorsome, with the added taste of salt and sand. No partner Wolfwood ever had before left this effect on him. Vash was simply intoxicating, even the softness of his skin and warmth of his body sent Wolfwoods desire into a frenzy. He felt the gunmans body blindly, groping at muscles through his armor and coat, Vash practically purred into his mouth in return.
He was learning quickly, Wolfwood noted, finding his partner was beginning to mimic his movements. Breathless and panting, Vash kissed him with increasing ferocity, his hand clawing in Wolfwoods black hair.
They'd survived on occasional gasps but the need for air finally became too strong and they were forced to stop. They watched each other in pure awe, wide-eyed.
That went extremely well. Wolfwood licked his lips, they were so tender they almost stung, and he was pleased to find he could still taste Vash on them.
The typhoon was smiling sweetly, he placed a quick kiss on the priests cheek then snuggled against him, resting his hands on Wolfwoods chest and his head in the crook of the mans neck.
The concrete wall jutting into his shoulders would usually be enough to ache, but it didn't phase Wolfwood, who was too content with this moment to care. He stroked Vashs hair gently, fingers stopping in the charcoal colored strands between his neck and his ears. They were a stark contrast to the sandy blonde- had his hair always been that color?
"Y'know spikey, you didn't answer my question before."
Gloved fingers were making little circles on his jacket, Vash paused his action as he considered the question, then began stroking along Wolfwoods collarbone instead. "Wolfy I think you just answered it for us. Besides, I already did."
It was surprisingly hard to laugh with someones weight on your chest. "Not that one. We did a damn fine job of answering that- I meant the one I asked you back at the plant... You just ignored me."
"I did? What did you ask?"
"'bout your sisters hair. Your hair's kinda black too... It wasn't like that when we met, was it...?"
"Uh... No," The fingers stopped completely. The hand that still stroked Vashs hair was gently pushed away. The gunman moved off his partner and sat between his splayed legs, frowning at Wolfwood. "ain't something I like thinking about much, 'specially with my sisters state..."
All these secrets were giving Wolfwood a headache. Everything obvious about Vash seemed to hide some hidden meaning. First it was invisible critters inside of glass, now it was the color of his damn hair.
"Plants don't live forever, Nick."
Vash struggled with his thoughts for a moment, silent. Wolfwood waited patiently.
"I guess we're kinda like batteries in a way. We got so much energy in our bodies but it ain't infinite. The more of it we use, the darker our hair goes."
"And if you use it all?"
Vash looked at him with sudden fear. Like he'd just heard a gunshot for the first time, he bowed his head and clenched his teeth.
"We die, Nick, but... It ain't like humans. It ain't nice."
Wolfwood frowned. "Death isn't exaclty a nice thing, Vash."
"No," Vash shook his head, he still looked so scared. Wolfwood wanted to comfort him, but he feared any move he made would end their conversation. Silence never seemed to last with Vash if Wolfwood didn't react, and the gunman glanced away again as he continued. "I hate death, Nick. I hate the thought of losing- anybody . The thought of dyin' myself, that's not such a great thought. But I am fucking terrified of dyin' the way I'm meant to."
"Is it really that bad...?" He asked without thinking. Vash looked to him again, the shudder that moved through his body briefly was evidence that Wolfwood probably shouldn't have asked- going in to detail, even in thoughts, was enough to upset Vash even more.
"Worse than you could imagine, Nick. It's all suffering 'n pain n..." He locked Wolfwood in a haunting gaze, his eyes wide with the memories of things he never wanted to see. "Blood."
That was enough for both of them. Wolfwood quickly brought his arms around Vashs shoulders, drawing him back to rest on the priests chest. The gunman trembled in his hold, and he feared the likely chance that Vash would start crying.
"Don't think any more about it, spikey."
He felt guilty for asking. The best apology he could offer was to stroke the typhoons blonde hair as he held him against him.
Gloved hands fisted in his jacket, pulling the fitted fabric roughly enough that it groaned. Teeth clenched and his breath catching, Vash was struggling to keep his emotion under control.
"Her hair was pitch black, Nick..."