Chapter Text
This was not him.
Vash’s head thumped against the library desk and he thought for sure it sounded hollow. It’s not like there was a brain in there, because if there was he should be learning this material, not failing the same computer science course over and over and over.
“Have you thought about maybe doing something else?” Meryl’s voice was quiet, but kind, and Vash felt bad all over again, taking advantage of her time when the problem was clearly him. “Maybe something you actually enjoy?”
“I can’t,” he spoke into the surface of the desk, which was suspiciously sticky. The humidity of late spring and cheap lacquer, he hoped, and not something…well. “I got into this program, I should be able to pass it. We can’t all drop our STEM majors for woodworking- not that there’s anything wrong with woodworking, Milly is wicked good with a lathe.”
“True, and you love your cutting board.”
“I do love my cutting board.” He breathed in deeply through his nose, and out through his mouth. “What would I even do, Meryl?”
She shrugged, closing her laptop. “Well you know our professors don’t take attendance, why don’t you audit some stuff?”
“To be clear- by ‘audit’ you mean ‘sneak in, sit in the back, and hope no one notices the sudden new addition of a 6-foot blonde guy’, yeah?”
“Exactly,” she says with conviction. “You don’t have to do computer science because your genius brother is- Knives isn’t even here, he’s across the country. He’s not gonna love you less because you decided to switch your degree to Modern Dance.”
Vash looked up, resting his chin on the desk and looking up at Meryl with his best puppy eyes. “You really think I could get into the Modern Dance program?” He was half joking, but he wanted Meryl to laugh.
She did, loud enough to get shushed by someone somewhere among the other scattered desks. “Absolutely not. Let’s go, we have a party to get ready for.”
xxx
Milly was already home with an open bottle of vodka, shots laid out waiting for them while she made whatever concoction was on order for tonight. She named them after power tools and they were in high demand no matter what they were, so the giant cooler was broken out and cleaned. Milly was tall, but even she needed Meryl’s step ladder to pour things in the top.
“I thought we agreed after Vash pulled his back last month that the play was to strap the cooler to the dolly before adding the liquids,” Merely hung her coat and bag on the rack by the door, Vash tossing his coat over a chair and flinging himself into it after.
“This is a test run!” Milly grabbed her shot and they did the same, clinking the three mismatched glasses together before throwing them back. “I want to make sure the edible glitter passes the filter.”
Vash’s throat burned as he felt the vodka singe through his chest. “Edible glitter, Milly?”
“Yep! Because the art house is hosting, I thought ‘gee, since we always come home covered in glitter after their parties, maybe we should be filled with it too’- what?”
Meryl and Vash were doubled over laughing.
xxx
In the end, Vash let Meryl painstakingly apply eyeliner that, according to her, made his eyes even prettier behind his glasses and some mascara before she dipped her fingers into the pot of glitter eyeshadow and dragged them down his cheek, two silvery streaks like tears down his left cheek with a little dusted over his eyes. He didn’t bother spiking up his hair, knowing it was going to end up a mess anyway after dancing or making out with some stranger after a few of Milly’s drinks-
“We’re really going to call this batch ‘swarf’? There’s no better name?”
“Nope!” Milly was hauling the cooler, happily setting a pace that made Meryl nearly jog and Vash walk just a bit faster than he usually would. “It’s swarf!”
“I love you but goddamn, just call it ‘metal filings’ next time,” Meryl grumbled. “I’m not saying ‘swarf’.”
The art house loomed large, already surrounded by people, music and light spilling from the windows. The nice thing about going to college in a city no one cared about was that you were never a far walk from ‘absolutely desolate country with no neighbors’- which was great for parties. Less so for other forms of entertainment, but there was always a party somewhere.
xxx
Vash was pleasantly buzzed- Milly had not been lying when she said the swarf was strong- and he needed somewhere, anywhere even a little quieter than the downstairs. Art house had three stories in addition to the basement, if he could just climb the stairs and make it to their little art gallery room to rest…
The stairs were the hardest part. The press of bodies lessened as he made his way up and up, weaving through couples or groups talking somewhere slightly more quiet than the kitchen or porch. Meryl was probably kicking ass at ‘drunk’ chess, where she pretended to be way more drunk than she actually was and played poor suckers for money. He had no doubt Milly would still have to carry her home, but Meryl being a nationally ranked chess player was their little secret- she usually made back at least what Milly had invested into the booze.
He’d thought about going downstairs with her before deciding he wanted peace more than company, so here he was- one flight of stairs left. His plastic cup of swarf was still mostly full, and he planned on finishing it, but he also wanted some water and planned on sticking his face under the bathroom tap once he reached the third floor. It wasn’t exactly a bathroom, as it was a sink and closet that the art house residents mostly used to store supplies.
It was much darker up here, but the large windows and skylight over the gallery let in the moonlight nicely, and Vash was familiar with the layout of the place to comfortably amble over to the sink-closet-storage-cubby, gait loosened by alcohol and mind wandering without consequence. Up here, the music was a pleasant thrum up through the bones of the house that he could feel more than hear as he drank from the old tap, pipes rumbling as the old house worked its constructed magic.
Vash let his eyes wander over his own face, inwardly noting that it was quite a sight. The mascara had started to slip, darkening under his eyes in smudges that made the glitter stand out more as it spilled down his cheek. Someone’s purple lipstick was smeared at the corner of his mouth, a sloppy kiss he’d laughed into when it missed. He shook his head.
Someone had painted the wall opposite the mirror into a jungle mural, which was different from the last time he was here; people added to it all the time. A panther, just behind him, was a new addition. The eyes had been painted with something to make it luminous, flashing when he moved like they were really the eyes of a predator. He turned the tap off, inelegantly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater as he crouched to examine the new addition.
He traced a finger down the curve of a whisper, over the arch of the left eye, and just as he made his way to give it a final, farewell boop-
“Do you like it?”
Vash startled, falling onto his ass which, in the small space, also meant he cracked his skull against the old iron frame of the sink. “Fuck!”
“Jesus, sorry, sorry! You’re not bleeding, right?”
Vash hissed as he reached up to check, handing the stranger his cup. “No, I think it’s residual paint from someone, not blood.”
“What a terrible color to have stain right there, huh?” Dark eyes met his as the stranger took a sip of the swarf, glancing down at it in surprise. “Oh wait, that’s actually good.”
“Were you expecting cheap beer?”
The stranger took another sip, eyes flicking from Vash back into the cup. “Well yeah. This is good, what the-”
“First, yes it is edible glitter. Second, it’s called ‘swarf’ and my roommate makes it. You can finish that one if you want.”
The stranger gave a little ‘cheers’ motion, taking a third sip as he stood, extending his hand to Vash and hauling him up off the ground. “Thanks. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
He wobbled before finding his feet, laughing mostly to himself. “‘S okay. There’s usually no one up here. Came to see the gallery.” A hand at his elbow steadied him and Vash leaned into it as he got his feet under him. “Thanks.”
“So you came in with the tall girl and the one who looked like she was three seconds away from throwing hands?”
“Hmm?” Vash tipped his head, letting his world spin out of focus as his brain caught up with his eyes. “Oh, Meryl? Yeah, she’s like that. Someone tried to hit on Milly, she’s the tall one, on the way in.”
The stranger was slightly taller than him, but not by much, and he gave a small noise of disappointment. “She’s taken then, damn.”
Vash felt a little sad in that moment. “You like them petite or feral?”
“I like anyone who seems like fun,” the stranger separated from him, but not too far- close enough that he could grab him if he stumbled, but far enough that they weren’t touching. “Hey, blondie, wanna see something cooler than the gallery?”
Without waiting for an answer, the man was leading him away, fingers tangled together in a way that made Vash’s heart swoop and flutter in his chest; he wasn’t even really paying attention until he realized he was in a bedroom, being pulled onto the bed.
“Woah uh, I don’t even know your name dude, this is fast even for me-”
The stranger laughed, standing on- standing on the bed?- pulling Vash up with him and wrapping an arm around his waist.. “Good to know you’re easy, blondie. Come on.” The lights were off, and Vash could feel the strange reaching up, hands running across the ceiling until he made a noise of triumph, pulling down a ladder.
“Up?”
“After you, blondie.”
“I have a name,” Vash grumbled. “It’s Vash.”
The stranger followed him up the ladder, pulling it up behind them and closing the door so they were in darkness. Vash fumbled forward, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the moonlight and startling when a hand found his again. “Come on then, Vash.”
There were windows here as well, that jutted out creating little wells, but there was another ladder. The stranger went up first, shouldering open the hatch before lowering a hand to Vash. “Up, come on.”
He could have climbed on his own, but tangling their hands together and letting the man haul him up was so much better. The hatch door thumped closed behind them, and the stranger sighed, sprawling against a railing and breathing into the night. All the sound was muffled up here, and the night was cool enough that most people had gone back inside and the doors were closed. In summer, the whole house would be open, light and sound spilling out for hours, but the fall turning to winter meant there was less and less to do outdoors.
“I didn’t know the widow’s walk was accessible,” Vash was in awe. The empty country spread out around them, trees to the north and corn fields on all other sides, lit by the moon and swaying in the lightest breeze; the stalks were like whispers, hushed and haunting.
A lighter flicked open, a bright spot in the darkness as the stranger lit a cigarette; he took a long drag and let the smoke tumble out of his mouth before offering the cigarette to Vash. He wasn’t going to turn down the offer to share, especially if it got him closer.
Moonlight softened the hook of the stranger’s nose, flashing on the stud of a nose ring as the stranger watched him.
“Previous guy in the room had some Play Boy poster over it, or the guy before him. No one knows that’s where the attic access is and I don’t plan on telling,” he winked at Vash. “It can be our little secret.”
He passed the cigarette back. “I can keep a secret, mister…?”
“Nicholas. Nick.Wolfwood. Nick Wolfwood. Hey, whose purple lipstick is that by the way?”
Vash shrugged. “Dunno. I was dancing and someone decided it was kissing time.”
Nick laughed, and Vash’s heart did the funny fluttering swooping thing again. It wasn’t unkind, simply rough around the edges, like Nick didn’t laugh all that often.
Vash wanted to make him laugh more.
“Why weren’t you downstairs? At the party. You’re part of the art house, right?”
“Got home from work and wanted to paint rather than party,” Nick shrugged, cigarette dangling from his lips as he spoke. “One of those days.”
“Sounds nice,” Vash said truthfully, bumping shoulders with Nick as he too leaned against the railing. “I usually unwind with Milly and Meryl, don’t really have time for hobbies or interests.”
Nick scoffed. “You look like an engineer, one of the software engineering kids. Turtleneck and round glasses, it’s a whole look.”
“Computer science.”
“Ah fuck,” Nick rolled his eyes. “I was close enough.”
Vash laughed, then; it was harsh to his own ears, self-deprecating and angry. “That’s how I feel most days. Close enough.”
Nick blinked at him and Vash sighed. “Sorry. I just…I hate it, but I don’t know what else I’d do. Everyone else seems to know what they want.”
The cigarette was stubbed out on the bottom of Nick’s shoe and tucked back into the pack. “They’re all liars. No one knows what they want. So many of them are doing what they think is the best choice. How many kids down there are mentally beating themselves up right this second because they don’t actually want to be a math major or some shit?”
Vash was silent, pulling the sleeves of his turtleneck down to cover his hands, a nervous habit that he’d never broken, crossing his arms. “Dunno.”
“What do you like doing?” The question was softer, almost an apology. “What makes you feel like you?”
“I…I don’t know.” Vash could feel the tears start to sting in his eyes, fuck he should have stopped at two drinks and not taken the third, they’d had all those shots at home-
“Woah, woah, hey. I didn’t mean- ah shit.” Nick’s hands hovered awkwardly. “Do you want a hug or something?”
Vash frantically swiped at his eyes with the back of his hands, smearing the glitter and tears across his black sweater. “Yes please.”
Arms very carefully wrapped around him and he was suddenly struck by the most insane thought- it was weird to be hugged by someone taller than him. It wasn’t by much, but Vash was usually the tallest friend and most of the hugs he received were from Meryl or Milly. The sniffled tears quickly turned into muffled, slightly manic giggles. The stranger- Nick- huffed out a laugh of his own.
“Do you want to find your roommates?”
Vash shook his head, face pressed into Nick’s shoulder. “Meryl really wanted to come, I don’t want them to worry, or feel like they have to take me home.”
A hand gently, hesitantly stroked his hair. “Okay. Sorry for making you cry.”
“Sorry for crying,” Vash didn’t really want to pull away, but it felt like the socially acceptable time to do so. “Pregaming and then swarf will do that to a person, I guess.”
Nick laughed openly this time, a hand gripping Vash’s shoulder. “I mean, if you’re gonna cry, why not do it on the roof of an old-ass house in the middle of fuck nowhere in the arms of- if I may be so bold- an incredibly handsome man?” He struck a goofy pose, draped dramatically over the railing like he was in the midst of a Victorian fainting spell. The absolutely shit-eatting grin definitely ruined the image.
“You’ve got a point,” he replied, trying and failing to hide the flush entering his face. He could always blame it on the alcohol.
Nick watched Vash out of the corner of his eye as he tucked his hands back into his sleeves. “Wanna go back down and join the party?”
He shrugged. “Not really in a party mood anymore.”
The other man looked sheepish. “Sorry about that. Wannaaaa,” he thought for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Wanna go down, grab way too much swarf, then fuck off and play video games?”
Vash’s face lit up. “That sounds great.”
“Ah HA,” Nick flung the hatch door open, bowing and making an ‘after you’ motion to Vash. “See, you do have things you enjoy.”
He hung his feet down, choosing to drop lightly to the ground rather than use the ladder. “Yeah,” he said, grinning up at the figure framed in moonlight. “I guess I do.”