Chapter Nine – A Broken Taboo
"I don't believe it…"
"You and me both, Tongari…you and me both…"
As the jeep slowly approached the thriving city, the sounds of life and hustle came closer…the sounds were so alien to their ears that it felt almost a surreal dream; as though they were walking through an elaborate hallucination. Ahead of them, just beyond the main gates, men and woman stepped out of their homes and started down the street for work. Near the plant, which lay in the center of the town, there was a lot of movement of people coming and going through the gates, but there didn't seem to be any activity from the plant itself. Children hurried off to school; thomases brayed in protest as the few automobiles passed by. Dogs barked and, as they entered the city, a small black cat on the nearby windowsill yowled vaguely at them, watching their passage with large, lamp like yellow eyes.
"I mean…look at this…all this life…it…I don't understand…" Vash murmured as he turned his head and watched the people all around him begin their daily work. Beside him, Wolfwood shook his head briefly in understanding of Vash's perplexion; he too, was baffled by the lack of disease here. Certainly, they were aware of it; there were various fliers posted on street posts and in store windows warning against infection and to report to the local physicians if they began to experience the symptoms of this strange plague. But there were no word of any demons…did they only come with the disease?
"Not only are they alive…but they seem to have suffered minimal damage from the plant being down," Wolfwood commented as they passed down the Main street, looking around curiously.
"It may not have broken down too long ago…there seems to be a lot of people around there, so they must be working on it quickly," Vash commented as the turned a corner. But even though this random presence of life befuddled him, Vash couldn't deny that he was happy at the thriving city, and at the prospect of fresh food and drink and a comfortable bed to sleep in for at least one night.
Wolfwood, however, was not looking quite as cheerful. His cobalt eyes were wary as he looked around him, and though he could tell that none of these people were demons in disguise, there was something about this place…a presence here…that he wasn't sure he liked. Noticing this, Vash smiled a bit and put a hand on the angel's shoulder, squeezing lightly.
"You worry too much, Nick," he commented. "There's no trace of anything in this town…demons or disease…just try and not be on edge for one night…I think we both deserve a night of peace and quiet without having to worry about anything…"
"But doesn't that strike you as odd? That we've been through three places that were completely dead, and then randomly we find this one place that's been untouched?" the priest asked, looking back into those sensitive green eyes. "It just doesn't feel right…"
"You're right…it is kinda weird…but do we really have any choice? You're still in bad shape and I can barely hold my head up…we need a break…even if it's a short one. We can't fight demons half dead and asleep on our feet…"
"Yeah…that's true, I guess…" Wolfwood admitted, and sighed. "Alright…you win, Tongari. We'll find a place to stay for the night…but if anything bad happens, anything at all! Then don't say I didn't tell you so!" he cried, waving a finger at the outlaw in a dangerous fashion.
Vash chuckled a bit. "Warning duly noted," he remarked with a sigh, and sank back down into his seat, letting his shoulders loosen a little. At least the priest had agreed to stay at least one night here. This was the first piece of true civilization that he'd seen since he'd left December those many days ago. It felt like ages ago…and the last few weeks had been only but a dream. This entire experience had been incredibly surreal, and briefly, as his thoughts drifted back to the dysfunctional plant, he wondered where his brother had gotten to…Had he reached the city already and helped save the people before the disease had really taken hold? After all, he had promised Vash that he was going to "rectify his past mistakes"…the thought that Knives had indeed helped Humanity somehow brought a smile to his tired lips…
BANG!
Vash nearly leapt out of his seat as the nasty cracking sound filled the air, and put a hand to his chest as he looked around wildly to find the source. It had sounded almost, but not quite, like a gunshot, which had alarmed him and brought a hand to the gun at his hip. His hand was stilled, however, as warm fingers forcefully gripped his, and he looked up at Wolfwood questioningly.
"The damn jeep made that sound, Vash!" the angel cried bitterly as the sickly little vehicle came to a slow stop. "So, just calm down…I would wager a guess that those demons did a number on this more than just scratching the hell out of the paint job…"
And indeed, the jeep looked a right state, and was getting several alarmed looks from the passersby. Long, deep gash marks in the body ripped along the side of the battered little jeep, and blood stained the backseat badly from where Wolfwood had been laid out a few days previous. Dust and grime covered the entire thing, and one of the tires was severely low on air.
Nicholas, however, seemed completely oblivious to all of this as he kicked his door open and leapt out. He gave a few of the people staring at them nasty looks as he did so, and slammed the door shut before he addressed them.
"Yeah? You've never seen somebody have car trouble before?" he asked, clearly in the beginnings of a rotten mood. For a moment, it looked like a man on the edge of the street was about to address him, but once he saw the venomous look in the priest's eyes, he changed his mind and ambled on. Grumbling a bit, Wolfwood narrowed his eyes and started for the hood of the car. Vash watched then for a moment, and then decided to get out. He smiled sheepishly at the people near him, who were alarmed at Wolfwood's behavior, and waved a hand dismissively at them.
"Oh, don't mind him. He's just been driving all night and needs some sleep," he said, which seemed to sate the majority. After they meandered away, Vash sighed, his shoulders slumping, and made his way to Wolfwood, who was staring at the internal workings of the jeep in slight dismay and more than a little anger.
"Nick, was that really necessary? We are a bit conspicuous, you know…with a jeep that's nearly been ripped in five different pieces," he remarked wryly. "Not that we exactly need to stick out in a crowd…but your yelling isn't going to make us any less noticeable." As he spoke, he got the distinct impression that the angel wasn't listening, and was in fact a million miles away. "Hey, are you even listening to me!?"
It was then that he noticed the thin trail of black smoke coming up from under the hood, and fell silent. "Oh."
"Stick a fork in her. She's done," Wolfwood remarked finally with a sigh, and slammed the hood down on the newly deceased vehicle roughly. Grimacing, he turned and leaned against the badly dented bumper and pulled out a cigarette, putting it on his lips and lighting it in a slightly disgruntled fashion.
"But…hey!" Vash cried after a moment as he watched Wolfwood sit there, smoking in grumpy silence. "You're just going to sit there?! What are we supposed to do about getting around now?!"
"You've got legs, don't you?" Wolfwood asked pointedly, fixing Vash with an emphatic look. Vash opened his mouth to retort, but closed it just as quickly when he realized that he had nothing to say against that. As much as he hated to admit it, the priest was right, and it wasn't as though they'd been stuck walking endlessly through that desolate wasteland that stretched out beyond the city before. His only worry now was that they might not move fast enough to help those lives that had not yet been claimed by this strange illness.
"Well…can we at lest find somewhere to stay for the night? The last time I checked, vagrancy was still a crime," the outlaw remarked as he crossed his arms. The priest regarded him for a moment and smiled, standing and taking a thoughtful drag on his cigarette.
"Alright…we just need to find a junkyard to sell this heap at; we can get some money that way so we don't end up sleeping in a ditch," he remarked, running his free hand through his raven hair slightly. After putting out the rest of the cigarette, he grinned at Vash and clapped a hand congenially on his shoulder. "So! Guess what you get to help me do!"
Vash regarded Wolfwood very warily for a moment…He wasn't sure he liked that overly friendly grin on the priest's face…He'd seen it before, and never did it bode well for him.
"…What?"
"When…we get…to that hotel…after this…I'm going to kill you, Wolfwood!"
"Now now…not only is that illegal, but it's against everything you stand for, AND…you can't kill me. Too bad, so sad, Tongari!"
The sand crunched beneath Vash's boots as they ground against the dirt, and the binary suns overhead glinted painfully against the metallic body of the jeep as he stood beside the angel, pushing the jeep slowly through the streets. His arms were tired, his legs were tired, he was thirsty, he had to use the bathroom, AND, to top it all off, he was hungry! Sweat trickled down his brow, and every chance that he got, he made it a point to turn his viridian eyes on Nicholas and glare venomously at him. However, this only served to infuriate him more, as the glare was always met with that infernally cocky grin.
They'd been at this for the past three hours, most of which had been spent with them being lost until Vash had finally convinced Wolfwood to ask for directions, after which they had learned that the junkyard that they sought was on the other side of the city. Vash, needless to say, was less than thrilled at the angel after this, and had threatened him several times during this ordeal.
"I told you…don't call me that, damn it! I hate that stupid nickname!" Vash growled through gritted teeth as he and Wolfwood managed to push the jeep another few feet and turn a corner. All around them, people continued to stare, and the people who were being delayed due to their Herculean efforts yelled and cursed at them as they passed. So much for being inconspicuous…
"Aha…all the more reason for me to call you that…Tongari…" Wolfwood said, and Vash found it partially amazing that the angel could still grin, even with sweat dripping down his flushed face and his raven hair clinging to the back of his neck like a second skin. Groaning in defeat, Vash decided that it would be better to just give him the silent treatment rather than put up with those barbed, sardonic replies.
By the time they had arrived at the junkyard and gotten their money from the dealer, it was well past noon, and Vash's stomach was rumbling ominously. His mouth was making quite a racket as well as they left the yard, several tons of steel lighter and a few double dollars richer.
"C'mooooon, Nick, can't we please stop somewhere to eat? I'm about to die over here!" he said in a weak voice as they stepped along the sidewalk. A gloved hand was pressed against his middle, and at every restaurant they passed, his eyes lingered longingly at the doorway, his bottom lip trembling slightly. It didn't help that Wolfwood was walking beside him; carefully counting the money they'd just cashed in on, and was pointedly ignoring all the food establishments, including the simple street vendors who called out verbal advertisements for their wares. "That's so cold…" he whimpered, and reached over, gripping onto the priest's sleeve. "Gah…How can you just sit there counting that money and ignoring meee?! I'm dying of starvation over here!"
Wolfwood turned his head finally at that, and seemed to look Vash over thoughtfully for a moment. For a split second, the gunslinger thought that maybe, just maybe, the priest was going to fork over a few double dollars and let him get something to eat. 'Oh…forks…and spoons…salmon sandwiches…donuts…'
"You look perfectly healthy to me," Nick proclaimed with a smile, and thumped the outlaw heartily on the back. "We'll get something to eat in a little bit."
"I...I…wha?" Vash said, slightly dazed and disheartened as he watched Wolfwood start off for a hotel at the end of the street, and let out a sad little whimper. It wasn't fair…just because Wolfwood didn't have to eat, he thought that no one else had to either…
Hanging his head sadly, he mumbled sadly to himself as he followed behind the angel, stepping through the crowd and past people who were lucky enough to have eaten both breakfast AND lunch and didn't have an angelic Nazi controlling all the income around here…'It's just evil. Evil! Oh, look…a chicken club sandwich. Being handed to me…Oh it looks good…with bacon…and chicken…and mayo-AH!'
"Here," came Nicholas' voice in amusement as he watched Vash stare incredulously at the sandwich in his hand as though it were a godsend. "Chow down."
"AH! Sweet manna from Heaven!" Vash cried as he gleefully snatched the sandwich and unwrapped it excitedly. Crumbs flew all about the place as he took no time to savor the flavor and wolfed the sandwich down, and his lack of manners earned him a few more curious, often disgusted looks. He looked up at the priest with great big happy eyes, unknowing of the mayonnaise smeared about the corners of his lips and the crumbs that clung stubbornly there.
"Err...glad to see you liked it," Wolfwood said after a moment as he recovered from the shock of Vash's eating habits. "But there's a hotel right here that has rates low enough for us to stay at for at least two nights on this budget. While you were moping along down the street, I got us a room, and found out from the innkeeper what's up with the plant."
"Really?" Vash inquired, looking much better as he followed the priest to the hotel. He absently wiped his mouth off with his sleeve as they stepped into the common room, where several other patrons were sitting around, sharing an afternoon snack and conversing idly. "Anything about the disease?"
"Nothing," Wolfwood remarked as he handed Vash his key. "But I do know that the plant has been down for repairs for the past month or so, and they've been working on it extensively since then. They expect it to be up and running soon, though. Possibly by tomorrow."
"Well, that's a good thing. They wouldn't be able to survive long without the plant giving them the energy they need."
As he spoke this, he followed the priest, who had walked towards the small bar that was set up in the corner of the common room and had bought a single bottle of bourbon. At Vash's questioning look, Wolfwood smiled and shrugged. "It's been a while since we could share a drink in silence."
The room was a rather Spartan one, with only a pair of full-size beds in each corner and a table against one of the walls. The table, chairs, and bed frames were made of some sort of material that looked almost, but not quite, like wood, and the rest of the place was the same dull yellow stone that matched the color of the bleak desert just outside the window.
"Nice to know the hotels keep themselves consistent in décor from town to town," Vash remarked wryly as he closed the door behind he and Wolfwood, and it was true; every hotel room he'd ever stayed in looked remarkably alike: dull and boring. He made a mental note to write a nasty letter to the head of whatever hotel corporation ran these things and order them to fire the head of the interior-decorating department.
"Don't complain; we're on a budget," Wolfwood remarked as he leaned the bound Punisher against the wall near one of the beds and sank into a chair. He winced slightly as he did so, and for the first time all day, Vash noticed the pained weariness in Wolfwood's eyes; that the sweat on his brow was not just from the exertion and heat. He'd almost forgotten about the terrible wounds that the angel had suffered, and suddenly felt quite selfish about complaining about his hunger moments before.
"Nick…" he began to say, but the priest looked up at Vash and waved a hand dismissively at him.
"I'll be fine, Vash. I've been in worse scrapes than a few gashes and a…well, okay, the broken wing might take the cake for the most bizarre injury, but I'll be fine. I'm the resilient type." He offered the outlaw a reassuring smile at this, and waved the bottle at Vash, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Come on, share a drink with me," he requested, and picked up the two courtesy cups that had been sitting on the table when they had entered.
The worried look on Vash's face didn't fade as he sat down across from the wounded man, and absently took the bourbon when it was handed to him. It bothered him immensely that Wolfwood 's battered wing hadn't healed yet; it had been quite a few days, and it had outlasted the more recent wounds he'd received at Midvalley's hand. Midvalley…what else were these demons going to spring on them? That had almost done them both in…and he wasn't sure that Wolfwood could continue and fight in his current state…
"Why hasn't it healed yet?"
The question seemed to catch Nicholas off guard, and he looked up from his drink at Vash, whose own drink remained untouched. He could see the concern easily in those viridian eyes; the worry and the sympathetic pain within them, and sighed.
"The only reason the demons hurt me is because, for all intensive purposes, we're the same sort of being…Demons are just fallen angels under the control of Satan…and even he is just a very powerful angel. And since we're both supernatural in nature, that's why they injure me so. The only reason our weapons can hurt them is because they're blessed." Putting a hand tiredly to his head as he spoke, he closed his eyes for a moment. "They attacked the wings most likely because that would impede me more than say a hand or an arm, plus they're more obtrusive and an more obvious target. They're also more fragile, and would take longer to heal than a cut or a scratch. Make sense?"
Slowly, Vash nodded, and regarded the man across from him for a long time in silence, watching him drink his drink, then gradually reverted his gaze down to the opaque brown liquid in his cup. He really didn't want anything to drink…right now; even the thick, heady scent of the liquor was a bit repulsive to his nose. He wanted…he wanted to see those wings…Try to help heal them…He wanted to help heal this man who had come back from the dead to help save him…who had given him more hope and his heart…
The silent drinking continued for a while, until the bottle was almost empty by the angel's own drinking, but he didn't appear to be inebriated in the least. Outside, the suns had begun to set, casting a dim orange light in through the ratty curtains that hung over the windows, and lit up the dark brown bottle vaguely. And yet, the outlaw hadn't taken a single drink of his own, and had simply resigned himself to looking down at his wavering reflection in thought.
"Can I see them?"
Wolfwood paused as he was raising his drink to his lips, and gave Vash a curious look, laced with surprise.
"Your wings, I mean…I'd like to see them…Just to see how they're healing…" Vash offered a faint smile and cast his eyes aside, looking a little embarrassed. "I can tell…that they're still hurting you, even though you try to hide it." He held his cup in his gloved hands as he spoke, a faint pink alighting on his cheeks. "I'm just…well, I'm worried about you, Nick. I want you to be here…as long as possible…with me…"
He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help it…this concern that stirred in his chest every time that he looked over at the priest. He didn't want to watch him suffer this pain alone the way he'd suffered silently in life…He couldn't bear the thought that with each second, that divine light that glowed slightly behind his eyes might be fading. Slowly, he raised his eyes again and looked up at Wolfwood, biting his bottom lip slightly. He blinked, tears coming to the edge of his eyes as a bit of fear once again swept over him, and breathed slightly.
"I…I love you, Nick," he admitted quietly, and raised a few fingers to wipe at his eyes. He swallowed, shaking his head. "Even though it doesn't matter anymore…we only have a little time left, and you'll be gone again…but…I just wanted to say it. At least once before you're taken from me again…"
A faint rustling sound from across the table brought Vash's eyes up from the grain of the table, and he gave Wolfwood a slightly confused look as he watched the priest stand silently and set his empty glass aside. His expression was unreadable, but he gave the outlaw a meaningful look before he turned his back and moved his hands to the front of his jacket. He moved slowly, as though the action pained him slightly, but after a moment, he slowly shrugged off his blazer and dress shirt and laid them across the back of his recently vacated seat. His tanned, lean back was surprisingly unmarred and smooth, save for the slight dip of his spine that ran down the middle and beneath the hem of his black trousers, and the slight indentations of strong, muscled shoulder blades. As he slightly turned his head, his profile in Vash's sights for a brief moment, the dim light cast along the strong curve of his nose and caressed the curve of his cheeks, though his raven hair sheltered his dark eyes from the illumination, and his expression was solemn, yet gentle as he moved, his hand lingering slightly on the clothing as he laid it out.
Vash watched him in silent awe, watched how the priest seemed to move with such grace that it seemed no earthly words could merit. It was strange…he seemed to move in the same manner that he had always moved in, but…watching him now, Vash couldn't help but feel a bit humbled in the angel's presence. He watched the smooth movements of those strong arms as Wolfwood draped his blazer and shirt across the chair; watched how the dim light lightly kissed the smooth tanned skin of his back, and let his eyes linger on the raven hair that clung casually to the nape of the priest's neck. He smiled softly as he wondered how it might feel to touch those dark strands with his bare fingers, and sighed, perhaps a bit wistfully. It was never meant to be…not completely, anyway. Regardless of what they both wanted…there would always be something in their way blocking them…
A sudden, hushed rustling sound brought Vash out of his sad reverie, and slowly, he glanced up towards the priest, breathing deeply. His breath, however, fled instantly as his gaze fell upon the elegant expanse of ivory that had blossomed into existence. A sharp contrast to Wolfwood's tanned back; the snowy feathers caressed his skin gently, casting a dim white glow across the entire of his body. The wings were tucked a bit awkwardly to the priest's back, and still, several fragile bones protruded angrily from the slowly healing wounds, blood smeared across the unblemished white. As he watched the blessed wings tremble slightly, a few flawless feathers cascaded to the stone floor, followed by a slow, sudden ooze of blood, spattering lightly across the ground at the angel's feet. Wolfwood inhaled slightly in pain, his hand gripping the top of his chair tightly as the full force of the wounds swelled from a dull hidden ache to a steady pain, and Vash couldn't help but bite his lip in empathy as he listened to the suffering that the angel was keeping hidden within. Slowly, the outlaw stood, a bit unsure as he sat his chair aside, and stepped forward, pulling his leather gloves off quietly and setting them aside on the table beside the empty bottle. He swallowed a bit, and as he stepped up behind the angel, he realized that he had a pair of intense cobalt eyes watching him intently over the graceful arch of his less wounded wing, and breathed in slightly. His hands hesitated, but Wolfwood frowned at him.
"It's okay, Vash…" he said softly, and nodded, taking a breath. He knew that Vash's touch would be careful and gentle, but even the most gentle of touches would cause such fragile appendages as these wings great pain. He watched the outlaw move with a curious hesitance, and closed his eyes briefly as he vaguely felt the warmth of Vash's fingers near the delicate feathers.
As he touched the soft feathers near the base of the angel's back, Vash felt the skin beneath his fingertips hitch slightly, but it was a subtle movement, and for a moment, his touch stilled, afraid that he had inadvertently hurt him somehow. But when no other admission made itself known, the outlaw continued tracing tenderly along the soft crown of downy fuzz that framed the wings at their base, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the travesty of the bloodied, mangled bones and feathers…such brilliance, broken, and for what? Closing his eyes, Vash leaned forward and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the back of the priest's neck, slipping his arms possessively around his waist.
"I don't want you to go. Not again…I…I just wish I could help you…I wish I could stop this pain you're going through. I want to make it better…" Tears were coming afresh on his eyes and slowly slipped down the curve of his fair cheeks, pressed against Wolfwood's shoulder blades.
Wolfwood said nothing to this as he reached down gently with his own hands and pressed them against Vash's own, holding them tightly. He swallowed, bowing his head a bit as he felt the slight touch of tears against his back. He didn't want Vash to weep over him…He never thought himself worthy of such pure tears. But that was no longer a reasonable wish, and the priest knew that he would have to suffer those world-weary eyes and those lonely, lost tears for the rest of eternity…
Taking a breath, Wolfwood finally raised his head a bit and opened his eyes as he pulled Vash's hands away from around his middle, and took a step forward. He slowly turned, his wings tucked so as not to bump into anything, and as he turned to face the outlaw, he saw the deep truth of those tears, and watched as they slipped helplessly down that handsome face. His breath hitched slightly; no, it was too much for them to ask of him to leave Vash here alone on this world. It was the last, worst form of judgment for his innocent, lonely heart.
"Vash…" he murmured gently, but that was all he needed to say, and suddenly, the outlaw had hurried forward and embraced him tightly, still minding the wounds. His tears were falling free now as he buried his face in Nicholas' neck, weeping silently. Wolfwood frowned as he leaned his head down and against the outlaw's, embracing him tightly.
'I can't leave him like this…alone and suffering in a world that doesn't understand him. I'm the only one left who truly knows him now…who can see beyond the mask of The Humanoid Typhoon and see Vash. Just Vash…' The priest closed his eyes; he had made his decision, and he was willing to accept any and all of the consequences that might befall him. He couldn't abandon Vash again.
Gently, he brought his hand down and laid it against the curve of the outlaw's jaw, and slowly raised his head so that he could look down into those tearful viridian eyes. Wolfwood studied them for a long moment, remembering the first time he saw past that mask and into such pained, haunted eyes. He'd loved that one pure smile…he wanted to see it again. He wanted Vash to know that even were he to be eternally damned for what he was about to do, that he loved him. Had always, and would always. His fingers traced along the smooth, damn curve of the outlaw's face, over the single beauty mark and up into the ends of his hair beside his temple just slightly, as though memorizing him with his fingertips, and took a breath as his fingers graced gently over his eyes.
'God forgive me…I can't abandon him again…'
The kiss was soft…almost chaste had it not been for the bittersweet need Vash felt in the angel's lips. He breathed out unsteadily against his tears as they sought to slip between their joined lips, the faint taste of salt lingering in the kiss. But to his surprise, he found that his were not the only tears in the kiss, and this fact only seemed to cause his to fall even more pronounced as he tightened his embrace around Wolfwood, palms flat against the unmarred tan skin. The sensation of that raven hair brushing gently against his brow; the curve of that strong nose against his, those surprisingly soft lips against his own; it caused him to shiver slightly, but a pain of sorrow still continued to linger in his heart, tempering the warmth. He slowly opened his eyes as the priest slowly withdrew, and regarded those dark eyes for a long moment, words failing him for the emotion he felt.
"…Let me make love to you, Vash…" came the words, quiet and almost hesitant, and yet they hung in the room heavily, reverberating in the outlaw's ears. Vash's eyes widened slightly in a mixture of awe and confusion as he felt Nicholas' fingers trace lightly along the side of his face, and after a moment, slowly opened his mouth to speak.
"But…Nick…what about…I mean, the taboo…you can't-"
A finger suddenly was placed against his lips, silencing his confused utterance of questions, and it was then that he noticed the soft smile playing on Wolfwood's lips. His words died in his throat, knowing that the priest was not finished speaking.
"I don't care about the taboo anymore, Vash…" he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "I don't…I've learned the hard way that you only live once, and you never have a chance to do everything you should have again…but I've been given that chance, and I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago…because I've loved you for far too long without letting you know…"
Vash's eyes almost seemed to tremble with unbidden tears as he looked into the angel's face, so full of conviction and determination. His raven eyebrows were furrowed beneath the thick fringe of hair that shielded his dark eyes from the dim light, and he was breathing evenly, if with a bit of anticipation. It almost seemed ethereal, impossible to comprehend, and yet, Vash couldn't pull himself free from this reality. He trembled slightly, knowing that this would be the end…that tomorrow, he might be alone and outside, there would be blood and death and no shelter from the tyranny of this Hell that had been released. But here tonight, there was a promise; a taste of light and gentle calm the likes of which Vash had never been privileged to know. A brief escape from the horrors of the world, even if only for tonight. A few moments to realize that a man so feared, so hunted and hated, so haunted and alone, could love and be loved without risk or retaliation.
Vash could feel the truth in those arms; the need that seemed to radiate from Wolfwood and mingle with his own through those deft fingers that fell to the long lines of buttons that held his coat on. He tasted it in the priest's kiss; felt it in the gentle heat of his breath as his lips traced down from his lips to his neck, just above the leather bodysuit that clung possessively to his scarred body like a second skin. And as he raised his own hands and let them trace down over the smooth, hard muscles that traced down Wolfwood's chest and stomach; over the long, lean arms, he returned that which he felt from his lover.
No more pain tonight…no more sorrow, if only for a few hours…only those hands, and these kisses; only the soft rustle of clothing against the stone floors and heavy, labored hush of mingled breathing surrounding them. Only the touch of his lover, reminding him of that which he thought he had lost long ago…
To Be Continued!
Author's Notes:
Holy…crap. I can't believe I finished Part 10! It's been a long time coming, but here it is! I hope it's up to par!
Next Chapter holds much in store…the turning point of the story! The pieces of the puzzle come together, and a great confrontation of the last two generals! Thanks for reading, and please review!
