Living in this World
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor do I own any of the characters in it.
Author: Ghosty
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Romance
Warnings: Yaoi
Pairing: Vash x Wolfwood
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The rotted smell of decaying wood mixed with the heavy stench of beer lingered about the congested room of the local bar. People of all types were scattered about. Some singing and laughing in drunken stupidity, while others argued over lost causes. Idle cigarettes allowed smoke to gather high, creating a fog of toxins that filled the lungs of each patron that entered. Beads of sweat glistened on every brow, the chilled winds of the evening failing to cool those confined to the local bar. It seemed as though each and every person were trapped within something reminiscent to hell.
Off to the side, a figure dressed formally in black sat alone in the back. His arms crossed and a cigarette in his mouth. Dark eyes scanned the bar, a snide grin on his lips. Animosity was clearly directed towards the cheering people and snickering men who snuck off into a lone rooms with contemptuous lady's of the night. Sometimes, when the bar become hushed with silence, the whimpers and moans could be heard from those disgusting couples, and the shaking of the ceiling vouching for their sinful deeds. Though soon after the rumbling of cries and cheers followed with each load moan.
Which only made the man want to vomit.
Throwing the cigarette to the floor he stood crushing it with the heel of his shoe as he made his way through the crowd. Angry glares were directed as he elbowed his way through, snaking past the tramps and the thugs without an ounce of proper etiquette. Pushing through the bar doors, he gave a glance to the night sky as he breathed deeply to inhale the fresh air. A small cough forced its way out of him, angry at the drastic change of environment. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he meandered away from the door of the bar only to stumble over his own two feet. It seemed he wasn't capable of walking much further and had settled to leaning against the side of the building he had just fled. Bowing his head ever so slightly, he focused his attention at the ground, his cheeks flushed from his apparent abuse of alcohol. It looked as if he had tempted to drown his sorrows with the golden liquid.
"Look what ya got yourself into 'dis time…"
The man tumbled over his words, to drunk to notice his slurred speech. Shoving his hands into his pockets he lifted his head up, the pale light of the moon catching his face to reveal the shadow of a man to be Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The wind caressed his hair, fumbled with his coat and made the sand dance about him hypnotically. Shivering slightly with the next chilled breeze, his hands withdrew from his pockets in order to seek warmth from his own embrace.
'If only it was... someone else's...'
"Dammit!
"I shouldn't have left him. I shouldn't have went off on my own. Well, not without even a simple note or good bye." Nicholas's words were weak, intangible as he sought for some sort of justification. "Why am I so weak, why couldn't I just be able to say that I needed to go off…to find out my own purpose. That's not even a good enough reason to leave the only person I... Fuck! Why should I care to find out who the fuck I am?"
Closing his eyes tightly, fighting back the tears that dared sting his eyes, his arms tightened against his chest, his knuckles white with self-hatred. Everything blurred. Until his grip loosened just enough to allow a lone hand to shift through his pockets, fingers shaking as he took out the beaten cigarette carton. Taking one out, he placed it wearingly in his mouth. Calloused fingers fumbled with his lighter and shortly after the cigarette was lite, allowing a sharp inhale of the cancerous fumes. A relaxed sigh escaped dry lips and Nicholas's head fell back against the wood of the outer wall. But even his own physical addiction couldn't ease the burden, couldn't fight away the anguish that was biting at his heart. A few more deep drags of his cigarette and finally he couldn't contain it any more. A surge of emotion overtook him. Memories of his past, of the abuse and of his own torn alliance towards his wretched desire to live and his... his... NO! He wouldn't admit it. He couldn't admit it.
Grumbling with sheer frustration he stood straight turned swiftly and sent a punch flying at the wall, rattling the building slightly with the sheer force of his unmanaged anger. The building might have fallen had he only been a bit stronger. Like Vash.
"DAMMIT!"
Another curse word, another crazed punch at the building. The wood beginning to splinter slightly under his fists. His arm continued to retract back, repeating the process over and over. Blood stained the wall and his own fist, the decaying wood now cutting at his flesh. Each blow filled his heart with a wrenching sorrow. Tears now streamed freely down his face, his self control abandoned as recklessness took over. The noise inside the busy bar stopped, filled with faint whispers and the occasional load laugh. Though lost within his own world, the priest did not notice this change.
Finally two men emerged from the shaken bar, eyes searching for the source of the racket. Begrudging sneers tattered their dirty faces until two pairs of eyes caught sight of Nicholas. Scowling fiercely, the two men sprinted towards the raging priest, strong hands latching onto either arm, pulling him back from his destruction and struggling to keep him from getting loose.
"FUCKING LET GO OF MY YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!"
Nicholas attempted to fight back, but lost within his own alcoholic fit his fighting skills were greatly diminished. The two men threw threats at him but none of their words made any rational sense and as he went to take the opening to break free from their grip he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Another had stepped out and landed a firm punch into his abdomen. As the searing pain coursed through his body, he felt a few more swift hits follow. Nicholas knees buckled after the man landed a swift kick to his gut and the two men who supported him allowed him to crumble. Once again, his arms wrapped around in an embrace as his body shook violently with each aching cough. As the offending patrons left, laughter resonated within his ears as one of them kicked sand at his face. The sand stuck harshly to his tear streaked face and as his body lurched forward in pain and humiliation, with nothing left but a pool of blood.
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A desperate and tired sigh escaped the tall blond. Green eyes starring at the small town that laid only a couple miles ahead. A slight breeze tousled his spiky hair playfully.
Vash the Stampede gazed longingly at the small town, knowing just who was there unwillingly waiting for him. It took no less then a month to find Wolfwood after discovering that he had run off. One day, returning with a box of freshly baked donuts, Vash had discovered the hotel room they were sharing to be completely devoid of the priest's belongings. He had only been gone for fifteen minutes. And in that time Wolfwood had packed his things, left no note, and decided to just run off. Hiding away from him and hiding away from the truth.
Hands clenching into fists, the gunman hurried forward, an eager look etched on to his face. His eyes appeared distant as though his mind was focused intently on something other then walking. As though, all he could possibly think of at the moment was a certain black haired priest. Of course how could he not think of him after all that had happened. After one night of passion; the person he shared it with runs off without leaving any trace of his existence behind, save a few testimonies of his departure.
It left a searing question, one that burned into his heart and mind and made him doubt everything.
Why? Why did he run off? Why the fuck did Wolfwood run off like that? What could possibly be going through his head?
What is he hiding?
"Damn."
It had all happened so fast. Feelings he didn't even know he could feel again had emerged. A night where he learned everything, and nothing at all. A night of unbridled love.
___________________________________________ flash back
"Hey... Spikey..."
His head tilted up to look at the door, quickly focusing on the only person who ever called him by such a nickname. Eyes softened at the sight of the trembling form of Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The raven haired man looked unkept, his jacket missing leaving only the white dress shirt (that was not even buttoned) and black slacks. Dressed only in loose draw string pants, Vash emerged from his bed to stand before his friend, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboards underneath his weight and the light clicking sound of the lock to his door.
"Wolfwood?"
Vash stood there rather perplexed at the present situation. Mint green eyes trailed over the priest, trying to read him but failing to find any answers. Wolfwood looked up from the floor, hands behind him, pressed against the door. A few tears streaked down his face, his brow furrowed and his lips parted as though they meant to say something. Alarmed by the tears, the gunman slowly made his way over to the trembling figure and soon strong hands grasped the priest's shoulders in a manner that was meant to be comforting. Tilting his head down, Wolfwood couldn't bare to make any eye contact with the man before him as tears continued to escape him. Without hesitation, Wolfwood leaned forward against the gunman to rest his head against Vash's shoulder and closing what little space was left between the two. Dumbfounded, Vash willing returned the affection by wrapping his arms tightly around the needing man before him.
"What's wrong? Wolfwood, answer me, what's wrong?" the blond's voice trailed out, shaky and uncertain, his eyes starring at the dark mess of onyx hair that now tickled his face. One hand moved on top of Wolfwood's head, patting down the unruly hair, as he looked up at the ceiling, waiting for an answer. A mumble escaped from the priest, his breath tickling the scarred flesh of the blond. An uneasy smile graced his lips and pulling Wolfwood away from their awkward embrace, he looked at him with stern eyes. "What's wrong?"
Wiping his eyes hastily to erase the tears, Nicholas grinned weakly, trying his best to act like his normal self. To act as he had before. To act like the bad ass he was. Sending a hand through his hair, messing it up even more then it was and in turn brushing away Vash's own hand. Tears still began to fall unknowingly from his eyes once more, even as he stood their, like his 'normal' self.
"I just wanted to see you. That's all."
There was something more to that statement, but Vash couldn't put a finger on it. He tried to read into Wolfwood's face, to figure him out like he had so many times before. There was something enigmatic about the man before him that had him confused and all the more curious. But before he could even try to figure out what to say that might cheer up his friend, -it- happened. In what seemed like a milli-second, their lips met. Wolfwood leaned forward his eyes closed as he harshly kissed the other man. A hand snaked around and grasped at the back of Vash's neck pulling the unwilling man closer to him. Forgetting all reason, Vash allowed himself to give into his carnal desires and proceeded to deepen the kiss. Without noticing his body had pressed Wolfwood against the door.
After a moment, they pulled away both focused on the other. They stood there staring, making sure this is what they wanted.
Once more their lips found sanctuary within each other. Nicholas proceeded to kiss long and hard, no longer hiding the feeling of desire that he kept so well hidden from the gunman. Opening his mouth slightly, he allowed their tongues to dance, all the while hands groped blindly about. Vash's hands slide off the white shirt, his fingers continuing to caress and fondle the smooth skin of who he thought to have only been a friend. Nicholas hands made their way over each scar of the man he was kissing, tracing each gently and in turn beckoned a moan from the blond before him. His hands flickered across Vash's hip bones, tugging gently at the draw string pants of his pajamas. Vash gasped, pulling away from Wolfwood in a moment of hesitation. Nicholas moved forward from the door, taking command of the situation as his free hand went to caress Vash's cheek.
"I don't want to force you into anything. Just say no if you don't want... this. You don't always have to be the good guy... it's okay to do things for yourself once in a while. You're not going to hurt me."
All the while, Vash gazed into Nicholas' eyes trying to take apart the situation and find the truth within his words. He wasn't at all certain about what was happening. He wasn't sure what he had done to earn this man's love. It was obvious by the the tear stains that graced his partner's face that this wasn't easy for Nicholas' to accept this situation either. But through all the conflicts it was clear that these emotions were real, that this ecstasy was not something that could be replaced. And this gave him some semblance of strength. A small smile graced Vash's face and slowly he placed a kiss of his own on the priest's lips. Nicholas couldn't help but grin into the kiss, quickly deepening it as he moved Vash over the bed.
Pushing him down on the mattress, he took sight of the blond who laid before him. Dark eyes traced over each of the scars that had started to become familiar to him. Heat rose to Vash's face under the scrutiny of the other man, deepening the blush that had already been present. Still, the same smile lingered on. And Nicholas saw the truth and the acceptance within it.
"You always look better when you smile."
With that he moved forward, climbing on top of the other man allowing his desires to take over once more. Quickly their lips touched and the fervent passion from before returned in a heart beat. Hands fumbled over clothing, removing the remaining articles and leaving each other bare. There was nothing either had to be ashamed of now. Everything was laid out on the table as they gave into their needs. Together they explored, allowing skin to touch skin as they wrapped each other up in a tangle of limbs. As Nicholas traced down the gunman's body with sensual kisses, Vash's back arched and his body stretched allowing the man further access. Though his mind, fogged but collected recalled something that had not been answered.
"Why were you crying?"
Nicholas stopped, as he looked up to peer at the curious face before him. Taking in a small breath he exhaled with a non-too-eager explanation. "Because I was scared. I was scared you would hate me after that antic of mine. I was scared to say anything... I didn't want to risk loosing you over something that seemed so meaningless."
Tilting his head to the side, Vash looked away for a moment.
"I would never have imagined you would cry, though. Or even be scared," Vash teased, though his face expressed a seriousness that couldn't be explained. Exhaling gently, he was slowly coming to terms with his own feelings and as he turned back to Nicholas a gentle expression of endearment had replaced his tension.
"I could never hate you."
Overtaken once more, Nicholas grabbed Vash pulling him fiercely into a hug. His hands clenched the taught flesh under his fingers, and he dug his face into the crook of the gunman's shoulder taking solace in his presence.
"I need you."
Slowly he began to trace kisses along Vash's shoulder, biting ever so tenderly at moments. Vash whimpered and moved accordingly with each of Nicholas' movements. Idle fingers combed through the locks of hair and tracing along his scalp. A quite moan escaped Vash's lips with each of Nicholas' ministrations. Tentatively, his fingers traced down the trembling body, following each dip and crease that branded the gunman. Drawing past his navel, Nicholas allowed his hand to brush against Vash's hard member, earning him another quite moan and a slight buck of the hips. Grinning triumphantly, Nicholas furthered his advances allowing his fingers to grasp the throbbing sex of his lover. Without delay he began to pump his hand, causing Vash's moans to grow louder with each increase of velocity. Nicholas delighted in seeing the strong form writhe and squirm below him. His own erection throbbed with need, and as much as he rejoiced in seeing such beauty he wanted more. He wanted everything.
Ceasing his actions, Nicholas brought his hand up to Vash's mouth, tracing his fingertips along his lips demanding access. Panting, the flustered man took the fingers into his mouth. Nicholas could see the slight wonder in those green eyes and leaned forward, letting his own lips trace Vash's ear. "Suck." His command was gentle and reassuring and allowed the gunman to ease into the motion, taking those fingers in and out in a sultry manner that Nicholas didn't even think was possible. Soon he withdrew his hand and brought it down, tracing Vash's opening gently until he knew for sure the other man was ready. Slowly he eased a finger in, his eyes focused intently on Vash's reactions and reading only a slight grimace he continued. Another was added soon, the gliding motion prepping the blond with delicate ease for what was to come. For a second Wolfwood wavered.
"Is this..."
"My first time? Ah-hmm... ye-yes." Vash finished Nicholas statement, his lust fogged eyes focused intently on the man above him. Bringing his arms up Vash pulled Nicholas forward, kissing him reverently. His fingers curled, clawing into the dark skin as he pulled Nicholas closer. A harsh whisper escaped him-
"Take me already."
For a moment Nicholas was unsure, but gazing once deep into those green eyes he could not control himself and with one last final preparation he allowed his fingers to be replaced.
Thrusting deep into Vash, he saw tears spring forth from the corner of his eyes, his mouth clenched together as he tried to contain the scream that wanted to escape. Nicholas might've stopped if he had not wanted this for long. Though through the pain he saw the wild rapture of ecstasy that captured Vash. As well as himself.
Limber legs stretched and wrapped around Nicholas, pulling him deeper and deeper inside. Shallow cuts stretched along his back as Vash tried hard to not loose himself in absolute abandon. Each thrust seemed to unit them. As their paced quicken, Nicholas felt his body quiver as he drew closer and closer to climax. Vash's hands pulled at the sheets as he no longer could control the gasping moans that escaped from his mouth. His cries ravaged Nicholas' senses deepening his lust and creating even a greater need. Together they moved as one as they did in battle. They knew each all too well, knew how to work to bring the best out of one another. Nicholas found himself dependent on this man below him, this man who screamed his name and clawed at his back. The man who made him bleed and cry like no one else ever had. This man made him realize everything he had forgotten.
And as the came, they kissed, forcing their lips together and entangling one another with undying devotion.
This was infinity.
___________________________________________ end/flash back
{Note: This is the revamped version. I honestly have no idea if anyone is going to remember the old version. It was terrible. Some parts I'm proud of, though I'm still proof reading it, I just couldn't wait any longer and decided to put it up now. Ha. Let me know what you think. The world needs more VashxWolfwood love.}