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It was an…odd night, to say the least.
Instead of their usual – which consisted of them sleeping in the truck – Vash, Wolfwood, and Meryl were actually able to hunker down in a less-then-nice and cozy motel. Of course, as always, there were arguments of who would take what bed, Vash insisting on sleeping on the floor, but Meryl and Wolfwood were having none of it,
almost
forcing Vash to take one of the two beds since he always insists on the floor, though his price was that one of them would take up the bed with him so no one would sleep on the floor that was covered in god-knows-what.
After the sleeping arrangements were agreed – Wolfwood deciding he would sleep with the humanoid furnace – they decided to go to a bar nearby, wanting to have some fun before heading out in the morning. This, of course, led to the trio drinking until they were barely lucid, stumbling their way back to their shared room.
Meryl insisted on showering first, still disgusted by the bug guts from yesterday, leaving Wolfwood and Vash alone.
As soon as Meryl disappeared behind the door, Vash let his façade drop, dropping his cheery smile for a more sullen look.
Drinking always makes Vash think of things he usually doesn’t think about – things he doesn’t want to think about. It’s fun at first; hanging out with friends, forgetting about his worries, but by around the fifth drink, thoughts he thought he had stashed away come barreling to the surface, forcing him to think about them.
Usually Wolfwood would leave him be, knowing Vash doesn’t like to talk about what’s on his mind, knowing that he thinks he’s a burden if he even so much as frowns at someone, let alone talks about his feels. The beer in his system, instead of ignoring him, makes him want to know what's going on with his usually-bubble friend; it makes him want to help him in a way Vash never lets anyone help.
So, noticing his change in attitude and knowing that the Humanoid Typhoon gets in his head, Wolfwood turns towards him, the cigarette in his mouth doing nothing for the slurring of words the drinks are causing. “You alright, Needle Noggin?”
Not wanting to worry his friend, Vash immediately switches expressions to his usual cheery demeanor, looking up, surprised by Nicolas’ acknowledgment, he puts a smile on his face as crows feet come at the corners of his eyes, his beautiful dimples on half-display, forcing their way through his thoughts. “Uh- Y-yeah! I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?”
Sighing, Nico walks to sit by Vash on the bed, thighs touching as he rests his elbows on his knees and softens his expression. “Drop the act, Needles. What’s bothin’ ya?”
Wolfwood can see his expression change almost immediately, Vash looking away as soon as he feels it drop. “It…it's nothing, Wolfwood. It’s not important.”
Wolfwood groans, rolling his eyes as he steels his expression as much as he can under the influence. “Bullshit it's not important! Stop with the dramatics, Vash. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Vash flinches under his words, almost seeming to fold in on himself. Noticing this, the Punisher sighs again, trying to soften him voice. “Look, Needles, Shortstack and I care about you. You can’t just go around ignoring your own feelings all of the time. Look at me.”
Vash turns his head, bright cerulean eyes locked onto grey, a look of understanding passing between the two before Vash looks away again. “M’just thinking about…about the last time someone hugged me.”
Wolfwood furrows his brows at this, wanting to know more. “Huh? What are ya talkin’ about, Needles?”
“I just…” Vash looks down, his cheeks flushing an even darker shade of red than the one brought on by drinking. “I miss it. Being hugged.”
Wolfwood chuckles, getting up from the bed.
“W-wha-?! Why are you laughing! I thought-” Vash was cut short by Wolfwood hugging him tightly, arms around his shoulders, cheeks pressed together.
“Blondie, for being nearly two centuries old, you sure are dumb.” He moves his face down to the crook of Vash’s neck, mumbling into the soft skin, one of the rare areas on Vash that wasn’t metal nor scar. “If you ever want a hug, just ask me or Shortstack. We’ll be happy to give you what you want, Needles.”
Finishing his half-speech, Nick breathes in Vash, noticing that there is a distinct smell, the alcohol betraying him and letting the words slip through. “You smell nice. Like…I actually don’t know what like…”
Vash’s eyes widen, never seeing his friend act this way. ‘ It’s probably the alcohol ,’ he thought, encircling his arms tightly around the smoker, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “U-um…it’s flowers. Geraniums.”
“Flowers, huh?” Wolfwood closes his eyes as he moves his head up and down, his stubble scraping against Vash’s sensitive neck as he continues to breathe in the floral aroma. “I like it.”
“W-Wolfwood, wahait! Y-your beheard!” Vash laughs, Nick’s stubble tickling his neck as he moves his face along the vulnerable flesh.
“Beard? You mean my stubble, Blondie?” Wolfwood chuckles. “What’sa matter?” He teases, sneaking his hands towards the humanoid’s sides, gently scribbling along them, feeling the bumps of the scars and metal that litter his body through the thin cloth of his shirt. As he lowers his body so he is on top of Vash, the both of them laying down now, legs dangling off of the bed, he leans in close to Vash’s ear, smiling as he whispers, tickling him more in the process. “Is the Humanoid Typhoon…ticklish?”
The Typhoon weakly grabs Nick’s wrists,
if only to ground him
, as his black-haired partner continues to tease him. “Nihihick! C’mohohon! Knock it ohohohoff! NaHahAhAHa!”
Vash loses it when Wolfwoof moves his hands higher, gently digging into Vash’s bare ribs under his shirt. “Why should I, Needles? We both know that you’re strong enough to make me stop…that is, unless you don't want it to~”
“WolfwoHohOhoHoD! HahAhaHahAhAhaHa!” Vash whined, Wolfwood deciding to start nibbling on his sensitive neck; a beautifully soft neck that has yet to be littered in scars that weren't deserved.
“You know the word, Needles~”
“What are you two doing?”
Both the Punisher and the Humanoid Typhoon look up, blushes on their faces – from either the situation or the drinking, who knows – as they are met face-to-face with Meryl, freshly clean and in her pajamas, which consisted of shorts and a t-shirt, a faux look of annoyance on her face.
Vash stammered. “U-um…we were…uh…”
Wolfwood, on the other hand, decided that the shortie needs to know about Vash. “Well, Shortstack-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“-Vash here was down about wanting hugs, and I just let him know that if he ever wants one, he’s free to ask us. Isn’t that right, Shortstuff?”
Meryl was truly annoyed with the use of the nickname again, but softened to agree with him, sitting down opposite of the others, speaking directly to Vash, whose gaze was averted to the wall, a cute pout on his lips. “Right. Vash, anything you need or want, just ask us. There’s no harm in that, and you won’t be bothering us, either.”
Wolfwood freed one of his hands to bring it up to Vash’s cheek, turning his head so they were face-to-face. “She’s right, Needle Noggin. Just ask. Anyways,” Wolfwood started, finishing his portrayal of the events of the last few minutes. “I decided to give him a hug and he decided to be ticklish-”
“I didn’t decide that!”
“-and then what you saw happened. Seemed to cheer him up, yeah?”
Meryl smiled, laughing softly, a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re right, Wolfwood. Think he needs any more cheering up~?”
“I think so~”
“W-wait! G-guys c’mon! Meryl, not you tohohoho! AhaHahAhA!”
And so the “odd night” came to a close. Vash’s bubbly laughter filled the room before he and Wolfwood finally got their showers and, instead of sleeping on separate beds, the trio cuddled together, the Humanoid Furnace keeping them plenty warm.
Safe to say this “odd night” became the new normal, with Vash asking for hugs almost every hour – and getting them – and getting “cheered up” by his partners whenever he felt down. This new normal was better, and all of them thought so.