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It was sweltering. Wolfwood had reminded him of that at least four times by now. That it was sweltering, that this was a particularly fiery version of hell, and god was punishing him for his transgressions by sending him to wander the blasted desert with a good for nothing-needlenoggined-walking disaster of a wanted man.
Vash was starting to agree with him. Not about the temperature, oh no, that didn’t bother him much- but about the divine punishment. Vash wasn’t religious. The only god he trusted in was the path of his bullet. The only devil he knew shared his face. And yet, the story preached over a campfire, of god born to earth as man– one with dark skin, dark hair, warm eyes. Kind, and selfless. Maybe that one was real.
He watched Nicholas sway beneath the weight of his cross.
The twin suns refracted glittering, merciless light through the sweat beading on Wolfwood’s brow. His dark skin was flushed a handsome rouge, all the way from his sharp cheeks to the valley of his chest, where a rosary lay innocently atop the curls of dark hair that clung to one another with perspiration. Vash had never been to confession before. Perhaps it was time to start.
He suspected though, that the priest might die of old age before he got halfway through the list of all his sins.
Heat and exhaustion had Nicholas panting like a dog, and he finally paused to fumble at his hip for a drink. Finding only his flask of holy water, Wolfwood shrugged and tipped it back.
Vash raised an eyebrow.
“Won’t the big man be upset?”
“If god can put you to it, he’ll put you through it- far as I’m concerned, if he let me have it, he wants me to use it. Amen-“ he took another hearty pull. Wobbling drops spilled down his chin, his throat, and soaked into the already drenched fabric of his undershirt. Vash watched them the whole way down. His list was getting longer by the minute.
“Really, he’s just showing off at this point. The bastard is arrogant enough to put two suns up there? That’s just fine, means I get two sips-” Wolfwood knocked back the flask, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his battered suit. “You know I heard back on earth, they only had one! Much more reasonable.”
“You hear that?!” He shook a fist at the sky, at the suns that beat relentlessly down on them. “Greed is a sin you know! Your damn book says so!”
Wolfwood kicked at the ground, sending up a spray of sand that Vash stepped nimbly away from. Scowling, he unscrewed the lid of his flask for another unsanctioned sip.
“Shit…. Seems the pot called the kettle black” He said, shaking the flask upside down to find it quite empty.
Vash snorted, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and shielding his eyes. From the suns, and from Nicholas. Same difference.
“Fret not- blessings on the horizon.” The metallic plating of his arm caught the sunlight as Vash raised a hand, pointing to a dark mass of buildings in the distance. They shifted like a mirage in the heatwaves off the sand.
“Thanks be…” Muttered Nicholas, mopping at his brow. “I’d run if I didn’t think it would kill me-”
Vash, who had seen him take bullets to the chest, only laughed quietly as they trudged onwards through the desert, leaving only their footprints and the wind whistling in their wake.
/////
Twenty double dollars, a handful of bullets, and the promise that Wolfwood would provide last rites for the innkeeper’s brother was all that a room cost them. The door had barely shut behind them when Wolfwood fell backwards onto the bed, spread eagled as if he had been shot point blank.
He groaned appreciatively, pushing his sweaty hair back out of his face. Vash swallowed hard, unable to look away from the baby hairs that still clung to his temples.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Needle Noggin-” he began. Vash held his breath, waiting for him to spew more thinly veiled blasphemy. “If it isn't your dumb ass that gets me killed, it’ll be the heat one day.”
He closed his eyes, dark lashes fanned down his flushed cheeks.
“We’re grabbing my Angelina next time. I ain't goin’ to do any more walking”
Vash rolled his eyes affectionately, springs creaking beneath him as he sat to join Wolfwood on the bed.
“How about this?” He said, pressing the back of his metal hand to Wolfwood’s cheek. There were no nerves to speak of in the limb, and yet Vash could have sworn he felt the heat radiating from his body.
“Feel better?”
Wolfwood’s eyelids fluttered for a moment before flying open. Quick as a blink, he caught Vash’s wrist in one hand.
“What the-” he said “What’s up with your arm? How come it’s fucking cold?”
Vash smiled weakly. Scrutiny for helping– divine punishment. “Um– well, uh- It’s made from lost tech. An alloy we don’t usually get on Gunsmoke- I’m fortunate that it has a pretty low heat conductivity, as far as metals go. And me and the other well… Umm…. People like me have pretty good heat tolerance.” He shifted uncomfortably. As if the arm didn’t make him standout enough. Why was it so hard to just make a convincing pass at being hu-
“Tch. So it doesn’t even affect you?” Wolfwood cut sharply across his internal monologue, wrist still held tight in his grip. Vash pressed his mouth into a thin line.
“Of course someone like you wouldn’t be affected by the damn heat…. Lucky bastard-” He spat, without any real vitriol.
Wolfwood’s hand slid from his wrist to catch the curve of Vash’s. “Stay still for a bit….” He muttered, hesitating just a moment before lifting the cool metal palm to his cheek. His eyelids fluttered shut.
Vash’s mouth was dry.
“God…”
The room was fuzzy.
“God that feels good.”
A bead of sweat trickled from his temple. It met with Vash’s purlicue. It smeared when Vash’s hand slid downward.
Somewhere far away, he thought someone might be talking.
His heart was hammering, blood was roaring in his ears. The weight of Wolfwood’s hand on the back of his own did not deny Vash when his thumb caught the place where Wolfwood’s lips met. His mouth came apart when his hand fell lower, cool metal cupping his jaw- slipping down the column of his throat, pressing against his pulse.
Heat bloomed across Vash’s skin like a fever. He understood the agony Wolfwood had been in, the hellfire, the burning-
“Spikey.”
Vash blinked. He was back on planet Gunsmoke. He was looking down at Nicholas. Nicholas was looking up at him. His hand was pressed to the hollow of his throat.
“You-”
“Ah!” Vash yelped, voice somewhat strangled. “Sorry! Now that I think about it, A shower would really do a much better job of getting rid of the heat!” He made to rise to his feet, gangly knees knocking together as he did. “I’ll go downstairs and see what I can-”
“Spikey-” Nicholas sat up, quick as the crack of a bullet leaving the barrel. His voice was raw too- ragged. His face was red- far darker than the heat of the desert had ever wrought it. He caught his wrist in a vice grip, and did not let him move.
Vash could see his pulse racing in the curve of his neck, where his hand had been. Inhuman ears could fucking hear the erratic scramble of his heart.
Wolfwood had a killer poker face. He barely looked scared. Vash could smell the truth though- when he sucked in a breath as Wolfwood’s grip tightened. It smelled like ozone before a lightning strike.
Wolfwood licked his lips, and still they were drier than ever. “You are real bad at pretending sometimes…” He said quietly. His grip on the mechanics forced Vash’s fingers to spread. Vash could feel his pupils blowing wide, to drink in more of Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas.
He squeezed them shut, trying to control himself. To hide it from Wolfwood. Not human. Not human-
“Vash.” Wolfwood growled, and his eyes flew open. Unnatural blue met the warmest brown. Vash caught his breath, and then lost it again. Wolfwood’s hand was trembling where it gripped his wrist.
“.....If you start something-”
He pulled his hand closer, toward the open collar of his shirt. The sinner did not fight it. Wolfwood pressed Vash’s cool metal fingers to his chest, where they sank into dark curls, where they clinked gently against the beads of the rosary. His skin was searing. Vash could feel beneath his palm, where the violent beat of Wolfwood’s heart was threatening to break his ribs.
“-then you had better finish it.”
The room crackled with energy. The dry heat of a storm hanging low over the desert, begging to break, to drown them all in divine retribution and send them to their reward.
Nicholas’ head fell forward, hitting Vash’s shoulder. He remained bowed there– as if in prayer. Half mad with want, Vash nearly drowned in the heady aroma of incense and sweat.
“Please…” He whispered at last. “Touch me like you mean it.”
He slipped from the sliver of control that had kept him afloat, kept him lucid. He had never been human- but was as far from it now as the nearest star. He did not know who, or where, or what he was anymore. All he knew was burning, burning and skin, skin and teeth, teeth and blood and Nicholas.
There was no room for thought anymore. Only heat, and hunger. It closed its eyes. And the thing that had been Vash let the fires of heavenly hell swallow him whole.
////////