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The lonesome building stood out against the dunes, barely a speck floating in a sea of sand. It was run down, falling apart due to the sandstorms that rampaged the planet. It looked more like a shack or a shed than anything; small, beaten and battered by the elements. Night was coming fast, and while it looked like it could barely stand, there were no other places to stay in sight, so it would have to do. Vash wasn’t particularly excited about their refuge for the night, but it was better than nothing. With Wolfwood not long behind him, the two quietly trudged to the building.
“Well, this is cozy.” Wolfwood muttered as they stepped inside, his voice laced with sarcasm.
The state of the house on the inside wasn’t much better than the outside. Dusty, sandy, and ransacked. Anything of value was long since taken, either stolen or packed up in a hurry with whoever once lived there. The only things left were a lousy couch and a table with 3 chairs that seemed as if they’d fall apart if you so much as breathed at them the wrong way. It wasn’t a very livable space, but at some point in time it might’ve been. Vash could envision a more fixed-up version of the place. A lamp in place of the cobwebs in the corner, with a beautiful floral wallpaper to cover up the bullet holes scattered across the walls. It could’ve been a nice, comfortable home if someone were to put the effort into it. There was no use fantasizing about what it could’ve been though, it wouldn’t help them in any way. The place wasn’t great– not even close, and that was that.
“It’ll do,” Vash huffed, placing his bags down next to the couch with a sigh. “After all, there’s nowhere else we can really go.”
Which was true. There probably wasn’t a town for the next 10 iles, and they wouldn’t make it in time before nightfall. They needed rest either way, even if they could make it. Walking for hours under the blazing sun on a desert planet isn’t exactly ideal, and quite frankly, it was stupid. They couldn’t do anything else, though. They had missed the sandsteamer, and they didn’t have any other means of transportation considering Angelina had broken down when they reached the previous town. Thankfully, someone had offered to fix her up, but it’d take a while and they needed to get the right parts, which was why they were out there in the first place.
Wolfwood watched as the blond began to remove his red coat, his slim fingers unbuttoning the clothing with ease. It was a level of expertise Wolfwood had seen– and experienced before. Vash was good with his hands when he wanted to be despite his usual foolishness, and he knew how to take advantage of it. His coat dropped, revealing that dark bodysuit that clung to his frame so deliciously, along with the scars that peeked out from beneath and covered his body. It wasn’t a new sight; they had seen each other before. Yet, every time, seeing Vash unclothed gave Wolfwood a slight ache in his heart. The products of his refusal to kill scattered across his form, a stark reminder of the pain he’s faced. All the scars that held so many stories, so many challenges that Wolfwood may never know. He wanted to protect him from humanity’s cruelty, but he wasn’t sure he was much better. Wolfwood had been cruel before, he had taken lives before. He wasn’t a saint, not like Vash.
“Are you having fun looking at me, Wolfwood?” Vash questioned, turning to face the other man.
Whenever he stared at Vash as he got undressed, it was almost like he was examining him. Like he was trying to figure out the history behind his body with just his eyes, and it felt like Vash would melt under his focused gaze any second now. Those beautiful grey eyes that Vash loved so much could make him crumble if he wasn’t careful. Not that he would mind crumbling, not if it was for Wolfwood.
“Just takin’ in the sights, Needle-Noggin.”
“The sights, meaning me?”
“Yep.”
Vash chuckled softly at Wolfwood’s blunt response, watching as he walked towards him. He hummed as Wolfwood closed the distance and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him in until they were both pressed against each other. Vash takes this chance to cup the priest’s face with his hands, brushing his thumbs across his cheeks. The smell of cigarettes hit his nose first, followed by Wolfwood’s natural scent and a faint hint of gunpowder. It’s warm and comfortable, and neither of them want to let go, even if they both know they’ll eventually have to. Times like this were rare, most of their time being spent running from bullets and fighting against the unsurprising amount of people trying to kill Vash. Whenever they’d get back from a fight, Vash always seemed to hold Wolfwood tighter than usual, as if he was scared he’d turn to dust and blow away in his hands. As if it would be the last time they’d be able to hold each other. To Vash, it was plausible. Being swept up in the storm that is the Humanoid Typhoon was bound to cause problems for anyone sticking next to him. His reputation was dangerous. He himself was dangerous, and everyone knew that. Staying by his side was a disaster waiting to happen.
As if sensing his worries, Wolfwood gently rested his head on Vash’s hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. A soft gesture that wasn’t seen often until much later in their relationship. “What’s going through that spiky head of yours?”
“It’s nothing, I’m alright.” Vash said through a smile, one of those soft, aching half-smiles. A smile that was used to hide pain and brush off concern, not a smile of actual happiness or contentment. Wolfwood wouldn’t settle for that.
“Come on, Needle-Noggin, speak yer mind.” Wolfwood gently rubbed Vash’s sides with his thumbs, pressing for an answer through his fingertips.
Vash’s gaze softened, the other man’s touch softly working his tension away, but not his doubt. It stood strong and steady, unchanging despite Wolfwood’s comfort. “It’s nothing, really. I’m okay.”
Wolfwood’s eyebrows furrowed and Vash paused for a moment, already brainstorming methods to wiggle himself out of the situation. But, instead of objecting, Wolfwood sighed and planted a chaste kiss on Vash’s lips. Maybe Wolfwood would settle for that. Maybe it would be better to let him keep his thoughts in his head, keep him from voicing them out loud. Wolfwood might be a priest, but he never said he was a good one. Serious, sober conversations were different compared to drunken confessions, and he wasn’t sure if either of them had the capacity to handle a heart-to-heart at the moment. It was a long day, after all. Why make it longer?
“Alright, Spikey. If that’s what you want.” He huffed, letting go of Vash and making his way to the bags that he had absent-mindedly placed in the middle of the floor while looking at him.
Wolfwood felt.. Slightly guilty. He wanted to hold on longer, he wanted to let Vash know that he was precious to him, that he could share his burdens, and that he’d follow him to the ends of the planet. He wanted to turn around, then and there, and smack him upside the head for being stubborn and not confiding in him, even if they were tired. Instead, he opted for rummaging through his bags until he found a pack of cigarettes. If there were any time he needed a smoke, it’d be now.
Blowing smoke out from his mouth, Wolfwood turned back to Vash. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it surely wasn’t to see Vash sitting on the rickety couch behind him, silent tears flowing down his cheeks. He froze in place, his brain searching for any possible idea of what to do. Vash was supposed to be loud in the things that he does, endlessly whiny and noisy. If it wasn’t chaotic, it wasn’t Vash. So why was he being so quiet? Why was this so unnatural? Wolfwood stood there for a while, completely still. He watched as Vash’s shoulders heaved without making a sound, and watched as he buried his face in his hands. It felt like an eternity that he was standing there, staring uncomfortably. It wasn’t until Vash began to curl into himself that he stepped forward, one hesitant foot after the other. He sat down next to him on the couch, and before he knew it, they were wrapped in each other’s arms.
Vash cried into Wolfwood’s shoulder, his emotions heavy despite the noiseless sobs that came from him, the only sound between them being an occasional shaky breath and a sniffle. Free hand holding his cigarette, Wolfwood rubbed circles on Vash’s back, the motion seeming to soothe him ever so slightly. He remembered the orphanage, how he used to comfort the younger children in the same way. If he could get through this without speaking, maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult. Kids were different compared to fully grown adults, though, and if it were anyone else, Wolfwood would’ve just stepped outside. But this was Vash, and he didn’t want to simply leave him be.
“I’m sorry,” Vash mumbled into the crook of Wolfwood’s neck, pressing a feather-light kiss to his skin. There goes Wolfwood’s chance of not having to speak. His voice was wavering from his crying, but other than that, he was calm now. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“You have nothin’ to apologize for, Needle-Noggin. Don’t be an idiot.” Wolfwood turned his head to kiss Vash’s temple, still stroking his back. “It was my choice. ‘Sides, if I hadn’t sat down and coddled you, yer ass would’ve cried all the way into the morning. That wouldn’t have been fun for either of us.”
He chuckled, and Vash did the same. Soon enough, the shaking in Vash’s shoulders slowly came to a stop, but he didn’t let go. Neither of them did. They sat there in comfortable silence, content with just holding each other for a while. Breathing in each other’s scent, letting themselves be soothed by the presence of the other. Warm, comfortable, and at ease. It wasn’t until it had gotten completely dark that they let go, the room around them barely visible.
“Hey, do ya wanna see if we can turn on a light in here? Can’t get around well if we’re hobbling around in the dark.” Wolfwood spoke as he got up, carefully making his way to the door to flip on a light switch.
The bulb in the center of the ceiling flickered to life, clearly not as bright as it must’ve been in the past. It was shocking that the place still even had power, considering how worn down it was. When Wolfwood turned back around, he saw Vash cheering and clapping as a soft smile spread onto his face. He thinks then and there that he’d die a million times over to see that smile.
“Nick said ‘let there be light,’ and there was light!” Vash hooted, a play on something from the bible. Wolfwood couldn’t remember what.
“Well, it’s not the brightest, but it’ll do.”
Wolfwood replied with feigned disappointment. In reality, he was more than happy to even have the smallest bit of light to be able to see the angel sitting in front of him. Bathed in the warm glow from the dim lighting, sitting on that derelict couch, waiting for him to come back and be with him. Wolfwood might not be the best with feelings, but one thing was for certain, he could worship Vash until the end of his days. Whether that was blasphemous or not, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Vash was good. He was nice and caring and sweet and everything that Wolfwood couldn’t be. He took hits from people who wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in his gut and he still treated them kindly. His pacifism was so, so self-destructive and yet he still put a smile on his face. Vash was good, so good it almost made Wolfwood sick.
“Are you just gonna stand there and gawk at me again, or are you gonna come and sit down?” Vash jeered playfully, raising his eyebrow and patting the cushion next to him. “C’mon, Wolfwood, this seat has your name on it.”
“Yeah, yer ass has my name on it too.” Wolfwood scoffed as he made his way over and dropped back down on the couch, stretching with a grunt and then relaxing into the old cushions with his nearly burnt-out cigarette still in hand. It’s a shame he barely got to smoke it.
“Wolfwood!” Vash gasped, faux shock and offense written on his face. “How vulgar! You know, as a man of God, you should be more respectful.” He paused. “But, if you really want to, I wouldn’t be opposed. That is, if you can handle me.” Vash teased, a playful glint in his eyes. He wasn’t being serious, of course, Wolfwood knew that. But he could play along with his antics.
Wolfwood leaned in close, to the point where the both of them were practically sharing breaths. He gave a quick glance to Vash’s lips, then stared back up into his eyes.
“I think I could handle you just fine, Needle-Noggin. You want me to prove it?”
There was a long pause, and for a second Wolfwood would’ve worried that he said the wrong thing, if it wasn’t for Vash turning red and avoiding eye contact with everything he had. Wolfwood won this round.
“Wolfwood, you can’t just do that..” Vash complained, still looking at everything but Wolfwood.
“You know damn well I’m kidding Spikey, quit your whinin’. Either way,” Wolfwood backed up, positioning himself so that he was laying down and resting his head on the armrest of the couch, then swinging his legs up onto Vash’s lap.
“I’m tired. Don’t have the energy for that right now. Maybe once we’re back in town.” He pushed the stub of his cigarette into a spot of exposed wood on the couch, and flicked it away.
“Oh, come on!” Vash began to protest, still flustered. “Don’t put your dirty shoes up here, Wolfwood! You’re getting sand on me!”
He kept making a fuss, despite it getting him nowhere. Wolfwood’s legs wouldn’t budge, and all he did was snicker and stay in place. It took a few tries of Vash half-heartedly trying to shove his legs off of his lap before he gave up. Or, Wolfwood thought he gave up. All of a sudden he found his legs being lifted up and parted, Vash settling between them to lay on top of Wolfwood. It wasn’t that he particularly minded having the blond laying on him, it was the fact that he dropped down on him so suddenly that it knocked the air out of his lungs. It was almost comical, the way Wolfwood’s legs kicked out when Vash dumped himself onto him.
“Damn it, Needle-Noggin!–” Wolfwood wheezed. After regaining his composure, he smacked the side of Vash’s head just like he was thinking of doing earlier.
Vash yelped, though it didn’t really hurt. He shot Wolfwood a look, and then with a grin, he crossed his arms on the priest’s chest and rested his head, gazing into his eyes with endearment. It confused Wolfwood, how Vash could look at him as if he was so precious. How easily he could give his affections to him, to humanity, and not expect anything in return. Could Wolfwood even reciprocate that kind of affection in the way Vash deserved? His hands were stained with the blood of countless people in his fight for survival, he knew that. How could he even pretend that this was merited? An angel, here in his arms, staring at him with such adoration. How could Wolfwood give him the best, when he was so far from it?
“Nick,” Vash’s concerned voice snapped Wolfwood out of his thoughts. “What’s on your mind?”
It was Wolfwood’s turn to refuse to talk now. “Nothin’ is on my mind, Needle-Noggin.”
“Come on, talk to me.” Vash kept looking at Wolfwood, his eyes filled with worry and care. So much care. Wolfwood felt nauseous. Vash was too sweet to him, especially at this moment. Wolfwood didn’t just not want to talk, he couldn’t. He wasn’t able to find the words to describe how he felt. So he’d much rather just not say anything at all.
“Leave it, Spikey.” He gruffed. “It’s nothing worth talking about.”
“Wolfwood–”
“Leave it.”
Vash sighed, a twinge of disappointment in his eyes as he studied Wolfwood’s face. Wolfwood wished he would just look away. Turn to the side, look at the wall, something. Something other than looking at him, because he didn’t know if he could take it. Those sad blue eyes, staring into his own. It was unbearable. Wolfwood averted his gaze.
“You know,” Vash started, propping himself up and tracing circles on Wolfwood’s chest with his finger. “I think you’re a good guy at heart. You make yourself out to be the devil, but you’re not.”
Stop talking, Wolfwood thought to himself, furrowing his brow. Please, stop talking. He refused to look at the man on top of him, he couldn’t bring himself to. Vash’s voice was filled with too much warmth, too much devotion, too much sincerity. He turned his head away completely, gritting his teeth as Vash continued to speak.
“You’ve helped me, and you’ve helped others. Because of you we’ve made it out of some pretty sticky situations, and I guess I should be grateful for that. I’m thankful for you, Wolfwood.” He bit back the unspoken ‘I love you.’ He couldn’t do it.
The silence was deafening. Wolfwood froze for a while, before turning back to look at Vash. His mouth went dry, his thoughts went blank, and his eyes darted around Vash’s face, carefully searching for any hint of a joke, any prick of disingenuity. There was none. He couldn’t speak– It was like he was tossed on a stage and told to perform without any lines or a script. He stared silently as he processed what Vash had said, and his voice began to fill his head. ‘I’m thankful for you, Wolfwood.’ The words repeated over and over, wholly consuming his mind. He wasn’t capable of saying anything back, his response refused to come out. But, there was one thing he could do.
Wolfwood grabbed Vash’s face and pulled him in, craning his head to capture the other gunman’s lips on his own. He kissed him like he was starved for it, like Vash’s lips were his first meal in weeks. Vash returned the kiss with fervor, with an eagerness that bested Wolfwood’s own. Too eager, Wolfwood noted as their teeth clacked together. He brought his hand to the back of Vash’s head, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging gently, tilting his head as to give him more access. The motion coaxed a low whine from Vash as his mouth opened, Wolfwood taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. It became a passionate clash of tongue and lips and teeth, of biting and kissing, both of them all over each other as if their lives depended on it. Wolfwood was hungry for him, for Vash. His own personal angel, whom he’d worship for the rest of his sin-filled life. He could only hope his actions displayed the vehemence his unfound words couldn’t, just as he could only hope that Vash would keep his mouth shut after this.
Panting, Wolfwood pulled away. He could only do so much before running out of air. Vash chased his lips, a noise of complaint coming from him as they separated. Wolfwood took this time to really look at him, his lips puffy and hair mussed.
“Will ya shut up now, Spikey?” Wolfwood huffed, resting his hands on Vash’s back.
“A little more?” Vash pleaded, looking at Wolfwood with a pout on his face.
“God, you’re insatiable, aren’t ya?”
Wolfwood chuckled, before pulling Vash in once more. Vash bit at Wolfwood’s bottom lip, a sharp fang threatening to pierce the skin there, but the pressure wasn’t quite enough to draw blood. Not that he would mind, of course. His eyes fluttered closed as they kissed, Vash practically consuming all of his senses. All he could smell, taste, hear, and feel was Vash. His hands reaching up and gripping Wolfwood’s shoulders tighter and tighter, and the little gasps and whines that came from him, amorous and desperate. Every time Wolfwood broke the kiss for air, Vash chased his lips and caught them again and again. Wolfwood finally turned his head away before he got suffocated, the blond opting to peck on his jaw instead, trailing down to his neck.
Wolfwood breathed heavily, winded. “Jeez, Needle-Noggin– you tryin’ to kill me?"
The response he got was a small giggle and a ‘sorry,’ Vash’s breath hot on his skin as he spoke before he returned to peppering kisses on Wolfwood’s neck.
“Do you at least wanna let me get up so we can get changed and go to bed?” Wolfwood asked, patting the small of the other man’s back as he did so. Vash grumbled in response.
“Can’t we lay here for a little while longer?”
“Come on,” Wolfwood sighed. “I wanna get out of these clothes.” He doesn’t miss the smirk that appears on Vash’s face. “And change into something more comfortable.” Wolfwood specified, narrowing his eyes. Vash chuckled and scooted back, lifting himself off of Wolfwood and the couch.
They both made their way towards their bags, sifting through them to find the proper clothing. Wolfwood found his first, standing upright and tossing his other pair of clothes over the couch before working on removing the pair he had on. He slipped his suit jacket off, resting it on the old table so it wouldn't wrinkle in his bag. As he began to unbutton his undershirt, he felt a pair of eyes looking at him closely.
“What? Is it your turn to ogle at me now?” Wolfwood turned to look at Vash, who was still kneeled on the floor, clothes in hand.
“Yeah. Just enjoying the show,” Vash replied, pushing off the floor and standing up. “It's a beautiful performance so far.”
“Well, don't let your eyes wander too much. Backstage is for VIP members only.” The priest laughed as he slipped his shirt off, his torso now bare.
A soft dusting of red appeared on Vash’s cheeks as he focused on Wolfwood’s chest before he was hit with a realization.
“Am I not a VIP member?! Wolfwood, that's so cruel!” Vash griped as he began to remove his own clothing, unzipping his bodysuit.
Wolfwood rolled his eyes at Vash’s complaint, before pointing to his lips with a smirk.
“Well, there’s a way you can become one..” He trailed off, looking expectantly at Vash.
The blond made his way over until he was standing in front of the other man, cupping his face with his hands. Wolfwood’s hands found their way to his waist, gently rubbing his sides with his thumbs. Vash leaned in, and Wolfwood closed his eyes, expecting the warm press of Vash’s lips on his own. He waited a moment, but it never came. Wolfwood opened his eyes in confusion before glaring at Vash, who was snickering and giggling a breath away from his face.
“Seriously, Spikey?” He huffed, his hands dropping down to Vash’s hips.
“Sorry, sorry— I couldn't help myself.”
Vash at least had the decency to apologize, but he didn't look the slightest bit sorry. Wolfwood sighed impatiently before taking matters into his own hands, closing the distance between him and Vash. He pushed their lips together, soft and sweet. Unlike the times from before, it was much more tender. He could feel Vash smile into the kiss, their pace slow. Wolfwood pulled away, pressing another quick peck to Vash’s lips as he did so.
“There. Now you're a VIP.”
Wolfwood smiled before letting go of Vash, turning around and resuming his process of getting undressed.
Once the two were changed into their sleepwear, they found themselves back on the couch. Wolfwood leaned back, opening his arms and signaling for Vash to come lay down.
“You want me to lay on you again??” Vash questioned, tilting his head.
“Even if ya knocked the air outta my lungs last time, it was pretty comfy.”
Wolfwood gestured again, growing impatient once more. Vash shrugged and scooted forward, laying down and resting his head on the priest's chest. Wolfwood wrapped his arms around Vash as he did so, movements slow. They both shifted and shuffled, getting comfortable in their positions.
The town they were supposed to get to tomorrow was still a ways away, but Wolfwood figured that they'd be well rested enough by the morning to get an early start. One thing concerned him, though. He had heard about another lookalike roaming around and terrorizing neighboring towns, calling himself by the name of ‘Vash the Stampede,’ though the name didn't belong to him, of course. He didn't want to get into any unnecessary trouble, but with that guy out and about, he was mildly apprehensive. Especially because of Vash’s own tendency to get into unnecessary trouble. Though, there's no guarantee that anything will happen. Hopefully, they’ll be able to just get the parts for Angelina and get out. Wolfwood sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
“Hey, Spikey. There might be a bit of trouble when we reach town.” He spoke, fighting sleep.
There was no response, and Wolfwood stopped looking at the ceiling to look at Vash’s head on his chest.
“Needle-Noggin?”
A soft snore came from Vash, and Wolfwood stifled a laugh. He had fallen asleep already? The priest raised a hand to ruffle Vash’s hair, before shifting to settle into the couch some more. He could tell Vash about it tomorrow.