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The first time he saw him he was sniffling in an alley wearing a grubby once-white dress. Wolfwood had been on his own for about two weeks at that point. After his uncle, the town had handed him and a couple double dollars over to a drifter and asked her to drop him off at an orphanage up North. That night, while she was sleeping, he took the money and ran off into the desert.
He’d been in this particular town for a few days. He had gotten some okay work as a farmhand for an old man, assisting with the thomas chicks. The pay was nothing but he got to stay in the barn and the chicks were fun to corral, eager little things.
That’s what the boy reminded him of, a tiny thomas chick, crying and huddled in a corner.
“Hey,” he said, making his way over to him. “You alright over there?”
The boy looked up, startled. His face was blotchy red, but there were no tears on his face. He hurried to lift his hands up by his head and his shirt sleeves draped to his elbows. Wolfwood could see his hands shaking a little from where they were held aloft. Gosh, but they were small. The boy was just skin and bones, so light and pale he didn’t look like he belonged on this earth, let alone sitting in the muddy corner of a dingy street.
“Ya alright, I said?” Wolfwood took a few steps closer until he could bend down to the boy’s level. Maybe he couldn’t hear; the old farmer was like that. He’d taught Wolfwood a few hand wiggles but Wolfwood was still better at mouthing to him until he understood.
The boy’s eyes widened until they took up half his face.
“I’m alright.” His voice shook when he answered. “How are you?”
“What kind of damn question is that?” Wolfwood said. The boy flinched a little, moving his raised hands closer to his head like bracing for a blow. Wolfwood moved a hand up to wrap around the boy’s tiny wrist. His movements were quick, but his touch gentle. “Don’t be doin’ that now, I ain’t gonna hit ya. Just sayin’ it’s dumb to worry ‘bout me when you’re on the ground and cryin’.”
“I’m not crying,” the boy said, letting his hand be moved down to his side and bringing the other down to mirror it. His nose made an awful ruckus as he sniffed up snot.
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow, dubious.
“Sure.”
“Who are you?” the boy asked, still staring at Wolfwood with wide eyes. He really did look like a thomas chick, head cocked to the side and curious. Wolfwood held out a hand.
“Nicholas D. Wolfwood.” The boy stared for a minute at his hand before Wolfwood scoffed. He reached out for the boy’s other hand and put it in his, shaking once, firmly, before letting loose. He watched as it flopped back down to his lap.
“What’s the ‘d’ stand for?” The boy asked.
“Dunno. They never got ‘round to tellin’ me.” The boy looked up into Wolfwood’s eyes, alarmed at this, but Wolfwood broke out into a grin.
“Sounds cooler with just the ‘d’ anyways. What’s your name?”
“Vash,” the boy said. Wolfwood waited expectantly, but when nothing more came, he nodded.
“Fair enough. You on your way somewhere, Vash?”
Vash’s eyes filled with tears as he shook his head.
“Nah, didn’t think so. You wanna bunk with me tonight?” Wolfwood said, lifting up a hand to itch the side of his face.
Vash’s face did something then. Wolfwood wasn’t really sure what, but he got- Almost brighter, somehow. If a face could get bright, that is, and he knew it couldn’t. But that’s what seemed to happen to Vash as he smiled at him.
“Can I?” He asked, shaky.
“Sure. I offered, ain’t I? Don’t go questionin’ good things, got it?” Wolfwood pushed off the ground to stand up fully and reached a hand down for Vash. “They’ll take it away from ya’ if they know you want it.”
Vash took Wolfwood’s hand and, once he stood up, Wolfwood tried to let go. Vash’s hand squeezed painfully in his, though, so he figured maybe the kid was still a little light-headed, unsteady on his feet.
“Who will?” Vash asked, as they made their way out of the alley.
“Everyone.”
——
That night Wolfwood introduced him to each one of the thomas chicks in between making a second hay pile for Vash to sleep on. Vash made an affronted noise when he asked for their names and Wolfwood said they didn’t have any.
“They’re just thomases. ‘Sides they’ll go to someone else once they’re grown and they won’t care what we called ‘em.”
“But they have to be called something.” Vash answered. “How can you say ‘good morning’ properly to someone that doesn’t have a name?”
“Easy. Ya don’t say ‘good morning’ to ‘em.” Wolfwood said, sitting down next to Vash on his own hay pile.
Vash laughed like he was joking. His laugh was like tinkling of bells, small and light. Wolfwood’s stomach did a weird flip. He must be hungry.
He threw himself back into his hay bed with a groan and closed his eyes.
“Farmer gives me something in the morning for breakfast. I’ll share it with ya.”
He felt a rustle of movement beside him and jerked as a body laid down by his side. He opened his eyes to see Vash had ignored the nearby pile of hay Wolfwood made for him in favor of cuddling up to his side, head on Wolfwood’s shoulder. Wolfwood’s face was pensive. He’d never slept with someone so close to him before and wasn’t sure he liked the weight of somebody near him while he was trying to rest. But, he figured the kid had had some kind of rough go of it, must be cold and scared. Maybe Wolfwood could let him lay next to him, just this once.
——
“I just don’t like it.”
“I don’t care what you like, Vash, I care about what we fuckin’ need.”
It’d been a few months since they met, since the old man woke up to find two boys living in his barn now and kicked them out.
“Not turnin’ my place into no damn playground,” he’d said, grumbling.
Wolfwood had flipped him off behind his back while Vash yanked his hand down and pulled him away. Vash had apologized profusely, and Wolfwood had ignored him while handing off bits of torn off bread.
“Ain’t the first time I’ve been kicked out somewhere, won’t be the last. If it wasn’t you it’d have been some other stupid excuse,” Wolfwood said. “Least he gave us breakfast first.”
Vash had tried to wave away the bread.
“Hey, what’d I say?” Wolfwood grabbed Vash by the elbow to stop them walking. “Don’t question good things. We got food, we eat food. Got it?”
Vash’s mouth was a pout.
“Open.” Wolfwood said, shoving the bread into his lips until Vash relented. Once the bread was in his mouth and he was chewing, Wolfwood pointed a finger at him. “Don’t turn down food.”
Since then they’d found a couple of jobs, small things like dishes and egg collecting. Wolfwood couldn’t wait until he was big enough to do jobs that charged more- farming help, patching roofs. He could stand to do them now, but grown ups were weird about letting a kid do too much heavy lifting.
So, Wolfwood had resorted to pickpocketing. It was easy, because people were stupid and ignorant and saw Vash’s big, round baby blues and wanted to help him do this or find that. They got to feel good for helping some innocent kid, Wolfwood got paid, everyone was happy. The only problem was Vash.
“It’s just wrong. They probably need the money just as bad as we do!”
“Nobody needs money as bad as we do, Spikey.” Wolfwood answered, giving Vash a flat look.
Vash had been a little soft when Wolfwood got him, his clothes made of some fine, thin material that Wolfwood had never seen before and his hair delicate and long. It’d suited him, because Vash was a little soft inside, too, but it wasn’t practical. Vash had grumbled about it, but after a few instance of Wolfwood tugging tangled knots out of his hair and wiggling a finger in the many holes of Vash’s dress, he relented.
They’d played pitiful (not having to play too hard) in front of some bored housewives outside a grocery store who took them back to their houses and gave them some old clothes their sons had grown out of. Now Vash was wearing oversize jeans, cinched to fit his slim hips with a re-holed belt and a big shirt that he had to roll the sleeves up on.
Wolfwood had mourned the locks more than the clothes. He’d cut at Vash’s hair with his pocket knife, taking his sweet time to lop at small chunks of hair. For some reason he had been anxious doing it, despite it being his idea. He felt like he was doing something horrible, snipping at the soft tresses, making them ugly and uneven, watching them fall to the dirty ground. He cut it just short enough that it didn’t fall in Vash’s eyes anymore, just enough so he could rake it up and out of the way with his hand.
When Vash finally caught sight of himself a few days later in a foggy gas station bathroom mirror, he smiled.
“I like it,” he’d said, and Wolfwood had let out an easy breath for the first time in days.
After that Wolfwood started trying to teach him to be realistic. He’d tried to explain to Vash that people were cruel, careless, and didn’t worry about each other, so you had to worry about yourself for yourself. It was just human nature. You couldn’t trust anyone.
“I trust you,” Vash had said, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Wolfwood behind a dumpster. Wolfwood’s stomach flipped.
“Nooo, no, you don’t. I could leave you like that,” Wolfwood answered. He’d tried to snap for demonstration but his fingers just slid together uselessly.
“Yesterday you kicked that man in the balls because he tried to get me to go into his truck.”
Vash bit into their shared sandwich. Wolfwood groaned.
“That could have been selfish! What if I was just saving you because I’m gonna sell you off later to the highest bidder?”
“Two weeks ago that mom said she’d let you stay on as her babysitter, but just you. She said I’d have to leave. You told her her house was a pigsty and her kids looked like worm maggots-“
“Don’t talk about maggots while we’re eating.”
“You don’t trust me?” Vash asked, voice smaller than it’d been for the rest of his speech. “I thought maybe you did.”
Wolfwood was quiet for a moment, took his own bite and handed it back to Vash. Chewed in thought for a moment.
“Alright, well, I guess we can’t trust no one but each other. But that’s it, got it? You give one more beggar a single double dollar and I’m taking it out of your new shoe fund.”
Vash had rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder, and Wolfwood had the feeling the lesson hadn’t been learned.
And how right he’d been.
“What about a baby, Wolfwood? Or a very sick person?” Vash said now, hands on his hips.
“I was a baby once. And I’m sure I’ve been sick.” Wolfwood huffed. Vash was always like this, acting like they had a lot of choices. He was always harping about being kind, and understanding, and loving. Wolfwood would like all those things, too, if they could feed their stomachs and give them a place to sleep at night.
Vash rolled his eyes, a skill he insisted Wolfwood taught him every time he threatened to pluck his eyes out for it. Wolfwood knew better- it was all that Vash snark that he liked to hide away under sappy smiles.
“Well, I’m talking about right now. There’s got to be something we can do that isn’t flat out robbery.”
Wolfwood ran a hand down his face in frustration. “If you got any better ideas, Spikey, I’m happy to hear ‘em.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Vash said, smugly.
That’s how they got into poker. And pool. And pretty much anything you could swindle someone at, they learned it. Vash said it was better because people had to agree to bet their money and if they lost it because they thought there was no way two little kids could beat them, then fair was fair. Wolfwood said that’s just what Vash had to tell himself to sleep at night, but it let him feed Vash without a lecture, so he allowed it.
They’d carried on like that for awhile. Two little boys, attached at the hip, and trying to hurry their way through their youth.
After a year or two traveling together, they’d learned about shooting competitions, and there was big money in those.
“Gosh, it’d be real good,” Wolfwood said, flopping belly down on the bed next to Vash. They’d found a family inn that was willing to rent them a room for the night, a rare treat. Most places had a minimum age requirement, even if you had the money, something that Wolfwood raged against near daily.
“We’re talking hundreds of double dollars, Blondie, for a couple minutes work. Aim, shoot, bang, you’re done! Can’t get easier than that.”
“Yeah,” Vash said, sat by the side table and rolling the paper for Wolfwood. He always made Vash do it because his fingers were more precise, better for intricate work. And Wolfwood liked the look of concentration on his face, different from the one he wore at cards. It was softer, safer, like he was comfortable here, listening to Wolfwood talk and rolling him a joint and wearing one of the shirts they shared (They were up to two a piece, now. They’d had to buy a duffel to carry them all).
“The problem is, ya gotta have a gun. And that’s a couple months worth of food. Fuck, we’d die of starvation before we’d have enough for a magazine.”
He watched as Vash finished up the joint. He brought it up to his mouth, licked the edge of the paper and smoothed it down with his thumb. He then held it aloft with one hand and held out his other to Wolfwood, who huffed and reached into his front pocket for his lighter. Vash smiled at him.
Wolfwood had wanted to take up smoking desperately. It was so cool when the guys at the card table did it, stuck between their fingers while they shuffled the deck or rubbed their brow, but Vash had put a stop to it. He’d said it was a waste of money and that it’d make Wolfwood smell bad and turn his teeth yellow. He bought Wolfwood lollipops as a substitute, laughing at Wolfwood’s furious expression when he threw the bag at his head. Wolfwood didn’t need lollipops like a fucking baby.
Joke was on Vash, though, when Wolfwood became just as addicted to the fruity taste in his mouth. And he’d found he liked having something to do with his hands, unwrapping the stick and putting it on his tongue and flicking a wrapper at Vash’s stupid, spikey head.
Wolfwood watched as Vash brought the joint to his lips, flicked the lighter on, and breathed in. Weed, however, had been a-ok in Vash’s books. Go figure.
Vash let out the puff of air and handed Wolfwood the joint.
He choked immediately on his first inhale, when Vash said, “I think I can get us a gun.”
“W-what?” Wolfwood coughed out, thumping his chest and passing back to Vash.
He took another hit. “I know where I can get one. But I wish you wouldn’t ask me how.”
Wolfwood’s face was smacked stupid, he knew. This was crazy, impossible, and Vash wanted him to follow, blindly, no question. How the hell could sweet little thomas-eyes Vash, who had come to Wolfwood with nothing to his name, say he knew where they could swing by and get a gun? And how could he expect Wolfwood-
But he didn’t expect, did he? He said he wished. He’d tell Wolfwood if he had to, but he didn’t want to. Wolfwood knew all about stories you didn’t want to tell.
“Yeah, okay. Fair enough. Where do we gotta go?”
Vash’s smile was blinding as he told Wolfwood which way they’d have to go, as they discussed what route to take, as they started giggling uncontrollably passing the weed back and forth.
They fell asleep side-by-side in the inn’s twin bed, hopeful and content.
——
Vash was a better shot than Wolfwood.
“Damn, Spikey, you serious?” Wolfwood whistled as Vash knocked off the ninth straight bottle in a row.
“It’s easy.” Vash shrugged, smiling and a little red. Wolfwood glanced up at the sky; Vash never really got sunburnt, despite being as white as a piece of paper, but seemed like Wolfwood would need to buy some sunblock soon, just in case.
“Eh,” Wolfwood responded. It was easy to him, too, but he didn’t think it was supposed to be. He knew Vash felt the same from the way he held the gun. He was comfortable with it, guiltily so. Wolfwood could relate to that, too.
“Want another turn?” Vash asked, holding out the gun.
Wolfwood took it and settled into stance before firing off a shot. He knocked the top off the bottle, shattering it, and huffed irritably. He knew that wouldn’t count as a bullseye in a real competition.
“Here,” Vash stepped behind him and set a hand over his grip on the gun before humming. He pressed his head to Wolfwood’s temple and Wolfwood felt his other hand gently shifting his hip. “Let me adjust you a little.”
For some reason, Wolfwood’s attention was immediately jerked from the gun in his hand to the gentle pressure of where Vash was touching him. He felt his skin tingle, like Vash was a live wire pushing currents into Wolfwood’s skin. Vash and him touched often- hell, they held hands half the time they were navigating through new towns, Vash worried they’d lose sight of each other- but Wolfwood was suddenly conscious of the size of Vash’s large hands and the strength of his grip and how long Vash’s lashes were as his eyes zeroed in on the target.
“Harder,” Vash said. Wolfwood felt his lungs drop into his feet before Vash looked at him questioningly. He squeezed Wolfwood’s hand on the gun. “You have to have a tight grip or the gun is gonna kick back and hurt you.”
Wolfwood stared for a minute before shaking himself.
“Yeah, no shit, I just- just didn’t realize we were ready to shoot, is all,” Wolfwood swallowed and planted his feet before rolling his eyes. “How’s my form now, teach?”
Vash dug a finger into the meat of his hip cruelly, making Wolfwood swat him off before refocusing.
“Better,” he settled back in by Wolfwood’s face to peer into the scope with him. “‘Kay, you got your position right. When you shoot this time, breathe out with the trigger. You’re tensing up too much when you shoot and it’s throwing off the shot.”
Vash made a few small adjustments to Wolfwood’s fingers, moving them with a brush, and stepped back.
“Alright,” he said, nodding.
Wolfwood let out a shakey breath and hit the bottle square in the middle.
——
Shooting competitions were good money, and it eased up their struggles for awhile. Problem was a lot of their competitors didn’t take kindly to being beat down by a couple of kids, so they had to keep moving.
It was their second time on a sand-steamer when he found out.
They’d gotten placed in a small shared cabin, eight bunk beds built in to the wall like cubbies. They’d only bought one, figured it save them a few double dollars to squeeze in.
That’s why Wolfwood knew immediately on waking up that something was wrong. He’d twisted in his sleep so his arm was under the shared pillow, should have been directly under the weight of Vash’s head, but there was nothing. He scrunched his eyes, still closed, as he groped around, but no. Vash was gone.
Wolfwood banged his head on the top of the bunk in his haste to sit up.
“Fuckin’ shit-“ he cursed before getting out of bed and shimming into his pants.
Wolfwood could count on one hand the times he’d been away from Vash in the past few years. Vash wanted to go get a snow cone, so Wolfwood waited in line to sign their names on the competitors list. Only one person was allowed in the dressing room, so Wolfwood sat sullenly in the lobby until Vash came out to show him the red leather jacket he wanted. Some girl asked Wolfwood to give her directions, so Vash reluctantly went ahead to the bar to get lunch.
They hadn’t ever woken up without being tangled together.
“Gonna fuckin’ kill him,” Wolfwood grumbled as he made his way through the hallways, getting more nervous as he went. There were a few crew members milling about, but for the most part the ship was empty.
“I don’t know, they said the power reserves just doubled suddenly. Like a burst of energy,” Wolfwood overheard a crewman say as he passed.
“The plants gotta be on its last leg,” the other scoffed. “Probably it’s final death rattle before it’s kaput.”
Wolfwood kept pacing through the cabin halls, getting quicker as there was no sight of Vash. Fuck, what if someone had taken him? Stole him right from under Wolfwood’s nose as he slept, none the wiser. Vash had a distinct look, blonde and pretty. Someone had probably spotted him getting on the ship and scoped him all day, waiting until their guard was down.
Well, fuck that. They had to be on the ship still. Wolfwood would search the whole place top to bottom until he found them, and then he’d fucking kill them.
Rounding back to their cabin, Wolfwood was satisfied he’d checked the whole floor. He growled as he burst through the stairwell door and went down into the keel. The first time they traveled on a steamer, they’d snuck in and stayed hidden down in the cargo. Wolfwood remembered how fascinated Vash had been with the propulsion equipment, curious about the mechanics and the engine. Wolfwood had listened to him blabber on about how he wished they could see it for hours before Wolfwood tried to distract him with a game of cards.
Wolfwood had driven himself to a frenzy imagining a kidnapper hypnotizing Vash away with promises to show him the steamer’s transverse thrusters when he heard a small voice. Wolfwood followed the sound until he came to a huge door, giant lock unlatched and opened just a smidge, and Vash’s voice coming out of it.
“Oh, I’m doing fine! No, really, I’ve got a friend and clothes and sometimes we can afford to go to a bakery and get donuts. Oh, um, they’re like sweet bread? Yes, the clothes are a very big deal, they’ve always worn them, is what Rem said!”
What. The fuck.
Wolfwood wrenched open the door and busted into the engine room, ready for a brawl, to find Vash sitting cross-legged in front of the steamer’s plant. He had a hand reached out to the glass, parallel to the plant’s oversized hand pressed against it from the inside, and he was covered in bright blue glowing lines and washed in the hazy green light of the plant.
He startled at Wolfwood’s entrance, turning his head quickly.
“Wolfwood?!” He yelled and then Wolfwood dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
——
“Wolfwood…Oh, shit, Wolfwood, answer me, please.”
Wolfwood felt a cold hand caress his cheek and heard a pitiful whine, like a cat crying. Oh, God, please don’t let that be him.
“Vash?” he slurred, blinking his eyes open.
“Wolfwood!” Vash was leaning over him, eyebrows drawn in concern. “You’re awake!”
“Fuck, Blondie.” Wolfwood grasped Vash’s hand against his cheek as he let his eyes close again. “Had the weirdest dream. Woke up and you were kidnapped, and they’d taken you for your pretty hair and pretty eyes to sell on the black market, and then you were a glow stick and a plant whisperer and I was there to save you.”
Vash looked increasingly distraught as Wolfwood went on.
“Pr-pretty? O-okay, well you’re concussed clearly, but, um. I kind of. Am. A plant whisperer?” Vash said, gripping Wolfwood’s hand so hard he could feel the tremors.
Wolfwood bolted upright, releasing his hand and opening his eyes to find himself on the metal floor of the steamer’s engine room, a plant looming over him and Vash wringing his hands.
“Vash?! Vash, what the fuck?” Wolfwood said, eyes flicking between the plant and Vash.
“Ok, stay calm, please, I don’t want you to faint again-“
“I didn’t faint!”
“I can explain everything.” Vash held his palms out placatingly while Wolfwood’s eyes popped out of his skull.
“Yeah, please fuckin’ do!”
“Ok, um, ok so I don’t know how to start-?“
“Vash!” Wolfwood might have heard a slight edge of hysteria in his voice.
“Ok, ok, um. I’m a plant. An independent plant, obviously. And. Other plants, I can heal. Or fix, like the engineers say, but really it’s healing because they get sick, is all, and-“
Wolfwood heard that cattish whining sound from his throat again.
“And when I heal them my plant marks glow and I’m what caused The Fall and I have a twin brother and obviously a lot of sisters and I had a mom Rem and I’m sorry because I should have told you but I was scared and-“
Wolfwood threw a palm over his mouth.
Vash made a pitiful sound against his hand. Wolfwood could see the tears falling from his eyes land on the skin of his fingers settled against his cheeks. Wolfwood sighed.
“So. You’re saying there’s a biological explanation for why you’re so weird.”
Vash let out a wet laugh as Wolfwood removed his hand from his face to pick up Vash’s.
They sat there for a little while, Vash’s breathing settling and Wolfwood processing. He ran his thumb over the back of Vash’s hand.
“Well?” Wolfwood said, raising his eyebrows at Vash’s wet face and confused eyes. He gestured with their combined hands. “Aren’t you gonna introduce us?”
Wolfwood wasn’t positive, but he thought Vash’s sister seemed to smile.
——
Honestly, it was a blessing. Wolfwood had the sneaking suspicion Vash would have taken it to his grave rather than tell Wolfwood, even though Wolfwood had wiped puke from Vash’s face and put up with his ridiculously complicated morning routine and if he was going to leave him would have done it a hell of a long time ago.
Now Vash could relax fully, comfortable, in a way that Wolfwood hadn’t ever realized he wasn’t before. He glowed a little now, sometimes, when he was snuggled up next to Wolfwood in bed and dozing off. It made him sad, made him mad, and made him eager to get everything out of Vash that he could so Vash could be his true self with him all the time.
He asked more questions about Vash’s life before, insisting when Vash said it wasn’t important.
“It’s your life. How can it not be important?” Wolfwood asked.
“I mean,” Vash laughed, awkward. “We’ve never really talked about any of that kind of stuff.”
“Well, yeah,” Wolfwood picked at a loose thread in the comforter between them. “Because I figured it was bad. Figured it hurt to talk about.”
Vash turned solemn.
“It was. It is.”
“But. I want to know, if you let me. And I can tell you stuff, too. And then we’ll know each other better. Could help each other.”
Wolfwood made sure to keep his eyes down, but he could feel Vash’s sad smile.
“We already know each other the best. And you already help me.” He swallowed. “But I’d like you to know about this, too.”
Vash reached out and took Wolfwood’s hand before continuing.
“And I want to know about you.” Wolfwood looked up to find Vash was already looking at him.
——
After the third time they entered a town with a sick plant, got caught trying to sneak in and got shot at for the trouble, Wolfwood suggested a different approach.
“We’ll just tell ‘em we’re plant engineers. They’ll beg us to take a look at ‘em.”
Vash looked dubious.
“We’re too young.”
“The hell we are.” They had finally reached an age where people trusted them with bigger jobs- Wolfwood was the same height as most of the card players at the bar now, and bulked up carrying lumber and taking care of farm animals. Vash hadn’t skimped on working either, although his body seemed to carry it all in his arms and shoulders. He’d developed thick muscles on his biceps that Wolfwood found himself tracing with his eyes in boredom before bed.
“Well, we look like kids,” Vash waved a hand at their clothes, all dark dirty shirts and ripped pants. Men-for-hire clothes, not exactly the highfalutin attire of educated engineers, Wolfwood had to hand it to him.
Wolfwood shrugged, “So, we’ll get new clothes.”
Vash was skeptical, but they started setting money aside and saved up until they could each get an outfit that befitted their newest job opportunity.
It’d taken awhile for Wolfwood to find something that didn’t look ridiculous. He wasn’t used to seeing himself in anything that wasn’t torn up and worn ragged, but he’d seen a few businessmen at the bars before, drinking brandy and talking funny.
Didn’t mean that he had to take it to the extreme, though, Wolfwood thought as he unbuttoned a few of the top buttons on the blouse and shrugged on the dress jacket. It was still the fucking desert.
He stepped out of the dressing room to find Vash had on something absolutely ridiculous, black belted up pants and a black cut out top and his red jacket thrown over it.
“What the hell?” Wolfwood said, brandishing a hand to encompass all of him. Vash turned from inspecting himself in the mirror and Wolfwood watched him freeze in real time.
“What?” he asked, defensive. “Do I look stupid?”
Vash shook his head slowly.
“Nooo, no. No, you look fine, I think. You look- that’s a good outfit. For the purpose. Of what it’s for.”
“Ok? Well, as long as it’s good for the purpose of what it’s for,” Wolfwood rolled his eyes. “What’s the deal here? You look like a hooker.”
“I-“ Vash spluttered and turned red. “First of all, hypocrite.” Before Wolfwood could do more than arch his eyebrows in confusion, Vash continued. “I think if I was an engineer, I’d need to have something highly maneuverable, right? Like that I could move around in, get into crevices! And they have pockets!” Vash started excitedly undoing various zippers to demonstrate said pockets.
“Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want to tell yourself.” If Wolfwood rolled his eyes any harder he feared they would get stuck behind his head. “But if we don’t get in because you look like you’re gonna bend over the farmer’s daughter then we’re gettin’ you somethin’ else.”
Vash spluttered as Wolfwood walked away.
“Bend over- I! How dare you!” Vash choked out, following Wolfwood to the register. His eyes were wide in indignation and his face was turning red. “Women are- I have sisters, you beast!”
Wolfwood handed over the cash, nodding at the cashier.
“Last I checked, having sisters doesn’t make you any better than the rest of us,” Wolfwood said, dismissively, stepping out of the store and holding the door open for Vash.
“Us?” Vash said, eyebrows raised. “Exactly how many daughters have you bent over?”
Wolfwood tried to will his face to stop heating.
“None of your business.”
“What!” Vash cried, “When would you have even found the time? We’re together all the time!”
“Not all the time,” Wolfwood said, primly. “You want a drink?”
Vash stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. It took Wolfwood a minute to notice, looking around for a place to eat. When he turned around, Vash had his hands on his hips and a furious expression on his face.
“What?” Wolfwood asked.
“So, in some secret periods of, what? Half an hour, max, that we’ve been apart, ever, you’ve slept with an untold amount of women. That’s what you’re telling me.” Vash looked as angry as Wolfwood had ever seen him, and he wasn’t quite sure why.
They’d been in bars and casinos since they were kids, scamming money from old perverts and tools who talked about fucking like it was the weather. Wolfwood had learned to talk about sex while other kids were still getting tucked in to bed by their parents. Vash should know, Vash was there, a couple tables over with his own scores.
Wolfwood learned the worst thing you could say was you didn’t know what they were talking about, didn’t have a story of your own to share, didn’t have experience. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true, as long as it kept everyone talking and not laughing. What the hell had Vash been learning?
“You haven’t been?” Wolfwood said, feigning concern. It was not important that little worm wings were fluttering in his stomach at the thought that Vash didn’t know either, hadn’t touched anyone else either.
“No,” Vash answered. “It didn’t even occur to me, because I was a little busy trying to survive with my best friend. Because I thought-“
Vash cut himself off.
“Thought what?” Why was Wolfwood’s heart beating so fast? Why were his hands getting sweaty? Why did his throat feel so tight when the collar was undone?
“Forget it. Obviously, I was wrong. And obviously I should be giving you some more space.”
Um, no, Wolfwood thought, panicking. Where the hell had that come from? He did not want more space from Vash. He didn’t even like when they separated to pee.
“Now, wait a second-“ he started, but Vash cut him off.
“Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your many conquests. I’m sure you’ve been miserable with such limited time. Well take all the time you need, because I’m going to go get a room.”
“Vash-“ Wolfwood reached out for him as Vash stomped by, but he just bumped his shoulder and kept walking.
“And you can find someone else to stay with tonight. I’m sure it’ll be easy for you!” He called behind him, storming off.
Wolfwood gaped after him, not sure what just happened, but feeling sick suddenly.
“Idiot.” Wolfwood startled at the shopkeeper who had checked them out, standing outside the store on their smoke break and shaking their head at him.
Wolfwood flipped them off and walked away. Where the fuck was the nearest bar?
——
Wolfwood was the saddest he’d ever been. Probably the saddest person in the universe. Probably sadder than even a person on Uranus.
Wolfwood giggled to himself. Uranus.
He had stumbled to the inn and banged on the front desk bell until a grumpy old man came cussing out from the back in a robe and slippers.
“I’ve lost my key,” Wolfwood hiccuped.
“What’s your room number?”
“Oh, I don’t have a room. My best friend has one. He told me I couldn’t stay here.” Wolfwood grinned.
“Then what the hell are you here causin’ a ruckus for?” the man asked, slamming his hands on the desk in front of him.
“Whoa,” Wolfwood said, alarmed and raising his hands. “I need his room number and room key.”
“He said you couldn’t stay here and you want me to give you his room number and key?” He sounded alarmed. Wolfwood didn’t like that, because that made it seem like maybe the man wouldn’t help him and he needed to see Vash right away. They hadn’t gone this long without seeing each other since- they hadn’t ever gone this long without seeing each other.
“Yeah,” Wolfwood responded, simply. “Vash, please.”
“No,” he said and shook his head. “Leave.”
“Vash, please.” When this did nothing, Wolfwood felt despair like never before.
“Vash! Vaaaaaash! Vash!” he wailed.
“Fuck, ok! Room 17, just shut the fuck up before you wake up the whole hotel!” The man picked up a key and held it out to him. When Wolfwood just smiled at him, the man growled, lifted up his hand and smacked the key into it.
Now, Wolfwood was the saddest anyone had ever been, ever, as he tried to make sense of the wiggly numbers on the doors of the rooms, mumbling Vash’s name over and over. Maybe if he just started putting the key in door knobs it would be the right one eventually?
“Wolfwood?” Vash peaked out from a room a couple doors down from where Wolfwood was standing, looking at the key curiously.
“Vash!” Wolfwood yelled, and was immediately shushed as Vash grabbed him and pulled him into the room.
“What are you doing out here?” Vash demanded.
“Vaaash.” Wolfwood found he was entranced by the sound of Vash’s name on his lips as he tangled their hands together. But he couldn’t help it! Vash had such a pretty name! And a pretty face! And pretty knees!
“What?” Vash cried.
Oh, Wolfwood had said that out loud. Oops! But that was okay, because Vash should know! Vash should know he was sooo pretty.
“Wolfwood,” Vash said, separating their hands to put his own on his hips again. He was in his pajamas. The pajamas he shared with Wolfwood. Because they shared clothes. But he must be mad because his hands were on his hips again and that’s what he’s done earlier when he’d been so mad.
“Please don’t be mad,” Wolfwood whispered and pawed at Vash’s hands on his hips. When Vash didn’t move them, Wolfwood cried out in anguish and fell against him. He felt the breath leave Vash’s body and sighed. Yes, this was right. Wolfwood should always get to feel Vash’s breath, always get to touch him and hold him and know where he was.
“Wolfwood,” Vash sighed. Wolfwood was bent down so he could keep his head on Vash’s chest, but he turned his face up to look at him. Vash was looking down at him, pained, before lifting a hand to hesitantly brush the hair back from his eyes. Wolfwood purred at the attention and felt another big rush of air leave Vash’s chest.
“I want to always know where you are, too,” Vash said. Wolfwood could feel the grin on his face touch his eyes.
“Then you can! I’ll always tell you where I am, but I’ll just always be with you. Then I don’t even have to say.” Wolfwood turned back down to rub his face into Vash’s chest.
They stood like that for a moment, Vash petting him and Wolfwood snuggling closer until Vash pulled away.
Wolfwood whined until he realized Vash was moving them towards the bed, then he jumped in eagerly, shaking the whole thing. Vash crawled in after him and turned to lay on his side, facing away from him. Wolfwood did not like that.
“I don’t like that.” He pulled at Vash’s shoulder until he let himself be moved onto his back. Wolfwood wiggled in under his arm and sighed, suddenly sleepy.
“You are gonna be so pissed in the morning,” Vash said, but massaged his hand firmly on Wolfwood’s back. Vash was so strong and gentle and amazing.
“You’re so pissed in the morning. You’re pissed now.” Vash hummed in confirmation and Wolfwood lost all thought of sleep as he panicked.
“Please don’t be pissed now, Vash. I don’t bend daughters over. I don’t even know any daughters. I only know you. I’d bend you over but then I can’t see your face. Don’t you want to see my face? I want to see your face all the time,” Wolfwood felt like a puppy, soft and big eyed and maybe if he made himself cute Vash would forgive him!
Vash was already big eyed, though, red and pretty and staring at Wolfwood, so he had beat him to it. He was too late. But this was good, too.
“I- I want to see your face. I mean,” Vash cleared his throat. “Let’s go to sleep, okay? I’m tired. I couldn’t sleep with you gone.”
“Mmm, ok, Vash. Good night.” Wolfwood snuggled back in to Vash’s chest.
“Good night, Wolfwood.”
——
Wolfwood woke up to a pounding in his head that was echoed by the pillow hitting his face.
“Wakey, wakey,” Vash said, hitting him again.
“Get the fuck off, Vash,” Wolfwood grumbled, turning in to the bed.
“Nuh-uh, I couldn’t get sleep because of you, you’re not getting any sleep because of me,” Vash said, yanking the pillow out from beneath Wolfwood’s head.
“Vaaash-“ Wolfwood started, then stopped. Oh, God. Saying Vash’s name like that, he remembered yelling it in the lobby and repeating it in the hallway and, oh, what had he done last night.
Seeing him tense, Vash stopped his attack.
“Oooh, somebody does remember last night! That’s surprising, considering you were banging around like a drunkard and smelling like a distillery.” Vash huffed and moved towards the little table in the room to sit down.
Wolfwood peeked an eye out from the bed to see Vash had gotten a little breakfast for them and laid it out on the table, coffee and eggs. Wolfwood also saw what he couldn’t last night- that Vash’s eyes were rimmed red and sad, his skin splotchy. Wolfwood had made him cry.
He swallowed thickly as he got up and wobbled to the table, stomach revolting against him. He managed to bully it down before sitting and taking a sip of his coffee.
They sat in silence for a minute before he broke it.
“M’sorry,” he whispered into his cup.
“S’okay,” Vash answered, moving the eggs on his plate around. He waited a minute before forcing a small smile. “My turn to get drunk next time we go out, then. Which shouldn’t be too long, now, actually, because this room was more expensive then-“
He cut himself off when Wolfwood reached over for his free hand and shook his head.
“Sorry for earlier. Saying that about-” he swallowed and looked up. “There’s never been any girls, Vash. You know that.”
Vash looked like he might cry again, and that was the last thing Wolfwood wanted, but he didn’t know how to make it stop. He’d always known how to make Vash happy, what was so different this time?
“I thought so,” Vash said, pulling his hand back to rub under his eyes. “Anyways, if there were, it’s not- it’s really none of my business, so-“
“My business is your business. Vash, I-“ Wolfwood said, but before he could continue, he remembered something. “Actually, wait a second.”
He patted himself down, searching his pockets while Vash looked on quizzically before he found it. He smoothed it out on the table and turned it to face Vash. They stared together for a moment.
“How-? Where even was this?” Vash picked up the Wanted poster to look at it closer.
Wolfwood had found it on the cork-board outside the bar, where he was standing with a bunch of smokers who had stupidly asked if he wanted to bum a cig. This had started a sobbing fit about how he couldn’t because if Vash found out he’d be even more mad, which had dissolved into him explaining the situation of what had happened earlier that day and how irritating and beautiful and right all the time Vash was before he pointed and gasped out a “That’s him! The guy I was telling you about!” and yanked the poster off the wall. He then proceeded to hug it to his chest, kiss its cheek, and tuck it carefully into his jacket pocket.
“Bar,” he said.
“$$60,000,000,000?” Vash questioned. “Over some stupid card games and competitions?”
“What’s the world coming to?” Wolfwood shook his head.
“Where’s yours? We always go together!” Vash said, indignant.
“Wasn’t one on the board,” Wolfwood shrugged. “Guess I’m a little more subtle than you.”
“You?” Vash scoffed. “I’ve seen you play the same table three times and still act like you don’t know what clubs are called! No one believes you more than they believe me.”
“Talk to the poster,” Wolfwood said, gesturing a hand and helping himself to Vash’s eggs.
——
Engineering was easy. Or, at least, it was easy when you had a cheat code.
The outfits hadn’t seemed to make too big a difference. By the time they reached towns with sick plants the people were so desperate for help they’d try anything. They kept them up nonetheless, Wolfwood found he liked dressing nice, having clothes that were whole and clean. Vash never said he liked his, but Wolfwood caught him checking himself out a few times in the mirror. Wolfwood coughed ‘vain’ in his ear once and Vash had wrestled him to the ground.
Not that Wolfwood minded the change. Since the night they almost spent apart, there was a sneaking feeling tugging at the back of his heart that he refused to look at directly. He found himself admiring Vash’s legs a lot lately, nervous and guilty. He noticed the exposed back of a Vash’s top when he removed his jacket, the way his shoulder blades moved. At night, in bed, he felt Vash’s steady breath on his cheek and imagined stealing it from him.
Anyway, engineering.
Vash and him usually went in with some guide, fiddled around until they demanded some random tool that they sent the guide off to get, and then Vash worked his magic.
Wolfwood wasn’t really sure what it was exactly Vash did that helped his sisters, but it clearly brought Vash joy to do it. He was smiling and chatty the whole time, head or hand against the glass, talking about what was new with him and weird things humans did. Vash said his sisters were like a comm system- all connected together on a channel or something- so when Vash told one something, then they all knew.
Typical women Wolfwood had said, wincing when Vash slapped the back of his head.
So all his sisters knew Wolfwood, waved at him in their weird, slow plant way. He’d nod a ‘hello’ then hang back until he got bored; it was only so interesting to hear a one-way conversation that mostly consisted about how freaky your species was. He usually entertained himself by snooping around the plant room and sucking a lollipop. Sometimes Vash would get really quiet and he’d tune back in to hear snippets of something curious,
“No, he doesn’t, he-“
“Well, yes, obviously, I’ve seen- I live with him-!”
“I know, I know, I’ve been pretending I lost the scissors, so he can’t cut it. Don’t tell them that-“
Wolfwood asked what they were talking about sometimes, but Vash just said ‘plant business.’
The whole ‘Wanted’ thing was starting to become a real problem, though.
At first, they were just chased out of town. Simple enough, they knew when they weren’t wanted, so they booked it out of there.
Then it was fights, fists and headlocks and kicking. They weren’t strangers to that, either, given the many years of bar fights.
It was when the shooting came that things got really bad.
“Vash!” Wolfwood caught him just when he started to fall, tripping over his own feet and the pain when the bullet hit. Wolfwood wrapped his arm around his waist and he could feel the slick blood pouring over his hand. “Shit, shit-“
He kept running, turning corners and half dragging Vash with him, but they didn’t know these streets like the men chasing them. He didn’t know he’d made a wrong turn until they were in a dead-end alley and Vash collapsed in his arms.
“Wolfwood-“ Vash gasped out, clutching the hand around him.
“Stay with me, Blondie, okay? I got ya,” Wolfwood answered, ignoring how his voice was shaking.
“Come on, now, boy,” the shorter man said, walking toward them, his partner keeping a look out by the corner. “You ain’t the one we want, so just give us your little friend and we’ll be on our way.”
“Fuck you,” Wolfwood sneered. He could hear Vash’s rattling, wet breaths in his ear. He wondered if the bullet had pierced his lung.
“Fair enough. Ya’ll wanna die together, not my problem. But don’t say I didn’t warn y-,” And the man lifted his shotgun to his shoulder and Vash gasped out a “Don’t-“ but Wolfwood has already pulled the gun out of the holster on Vash’s belt, tugged Vash close to his chest and shot before he could finish his sentence.
The thud of his body when it hit the dirt felt heavier than he looked.
“Jeremy? What the-“
Wolfwood had already twisted around and cocked the gun and pointed it at him by the time his partner turned around. He raised up his arms in surrender.
“Go,” Wolfwood said, flicking the gun, and the man took off.
Finally, Wolfwood could focus on the man in his arms.
“Vash? Vash, you with me?” Wolfwood asked, grabbing Vash’s face with one hand and supporting his weight with the other. Vash’s eyes were opened but unfocused.
“You killed him,” Vash said, choking.
Wolfwood swallowed, looked back briefly at the body on the ground, a perfect circle in the middle of his forehead, before turning back.
“Yeah, but you’re safe now, ok? I’m gonna get us out of here.”
“Wolfwood,” Vash whined, eyes fluttering.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. You just need to stay awake, ok? That’s all you gotta do for me.”
Wolfwood slid the gun into the back of his pants, hefted Vash up into a bridal carry. Wolfwood felt his breaths get quicker, lungs contracting in his rib cage, but he couldn’t panic yet. He had to get them out of this town.
Wolfwood looked around, before his eyes landed on a beat up motorcycle across the street. When he glanced back down, Vash was out cold.
——
Wolfwood was bent over the bed, hands clasped in front of his face when Vash woke up. He knew immediately, so many years attuned to Vash’s breathing- listening to him fall asleep, hearing him when he woke up.
“Vash,” Wolfwood gasped, reached out and touched his face. His voice sounded wet to his own ears. “You’re ok?”
“Wolfwood,” Vash’s throat was dry, cracking. Wolfwood grabbed a glass of water from the side table and brought it to his lips. Vash took heaping gulps until it was empty.
“I’ll get you more,” Wolfwood said, moving to stand.
“Don’t-“ Vash grabbed his hand. “Stay. Please.”
Wolfwood sat back in his seat. He felt Vash squeeze his hand, but it was an echo of his usual strength.
They sat in silence for awhile, Vash dozing off and waking up intermittently. Wolfwood ignored how his hand shook in Vash’s grip.
When Vash woke up solidly, he pushed himself to sit up, Wolfwood nervously adjusting the pillows as he did.
“Don’t move too much. I took out the bullet and I-“ Wolfwood swallowed hard. “I stitched you up but I don’t know if I did a good job. I drove us out to the next town with a plant, but I didn’t know- I don’t know if your sisters can help you heal or if it’s only you, so I just. I panicked and-“
“Wolfwood,” Vash shushed. “It feels ok. You did good.”
Wolfwood crumbled, slumping down until his face was in Vash’s lap on the bed. He’d been so scared, driving and not knowing if Vash was even breathing in the side car next to him. When he’d pulled to town and dragged Vash into a room, he took off Vash’s shirt and his blood had been everywhere. Wolfwood didn’t know anyone even had that much blood in them. He’d had to use his fingers to dig the bullet out, Vash’s skin wet and warm and open, so open, and he’d gotten sick kneeling on the floor next to him. Vash hadn’t even stirred.
Wolfwood could feel hot dripping tears on his cheeks and rubbed his face against the blanket to get them off. He swallowed his sobs and clenched his fingers in the bedspread. Vash couldn’t see him cry, couldn’t know Wolfwood had been scared. Wolfwood was supposed to protect him.
“Shh, it’s alright, it’s ok,” Vash said, head dropped back against the bed frame. He set his hand on Wolfwood’s head and pet his hair. “You did so good, Wolfwood.”
Wolfwood shuddered against his legs.
“I know it was scary. I know you didn’t mean to- to hurt him. I don’t know what to say, but-“
Wolfwood was so shocked he lifted his head from Vash’s lap to stare at him, uncaring for the tear tracks on his face.
“What?” Wolfwood asked, quietly.
“When you-“ Vash swallowed, “When you shot that man.”
Wolfwood couldn’t get his brain to process what Vash was saying. He felt sluggish and slow, trying to understand him.
“You’re usually such a good shot, but it was scary and…Your adrenaline was up. It doesn’t reflect you at all-” Vash just kept going, on and on, and Wolfwood couldn’t take it, couldn’t listen to him talk about it for another second.
“I didn’t miss,” Wolfwood said, interrupting him.
It was Vash’s turn to stare.
“Wh-“
“I didn’t miss at all. I wanted to kill him. I shot right where I meant to.”
“I- I don’t understand,” Vash whispered, shaking his head.
“You were bleeding. In my arms.” Wolfwood could hear his own breath, in and out, getting faster. “We were cornered and he was gonna shoot you and so I killed him.” Vash winced. “I don’t fucking care that he’s dead. I care that you aren’t breathing right and I don’t know if I got all the fragments out or if my stitches were tight enough. I thought you were gonna die and I wasn’t ever going to hear you again, and-“
Wolfwood choked on his next breath, realized there were tears streaming down his face and Vash was staring at him like he had never seen him before. He looked scared like Wolfwood hadn’t seen him since that alley years ago, a shaking little thomas on the ground.
“Wolfwood, don’t. Don’t say you killed for me, please. That’s- that’s awful, I-“
“Why?” Wolfwood demanded, hot and angry through the tears. “And why would you ever think I wouldn’t have? Vash, I’ll kill for you. I would lie, cheat, and steal for you. I have and I will again and I would kill someone with my bare hands if I had to just so long as you were safe.”
Vash was crying now, a steady trickle down down his cheeks to his chin. He was horrified and disgusted and Wolfwood loved him. Wolfwood loved him so deep in his bones that he didn’t care if Vash never spoke to him again so long as he was breathing. Vash could think Wolfwood was the devil so long as he stayed alive to think it.
Vash shook his head brokenly.
“I can’t. I don’t want to hear it, Wolfwood, please. Please.”
He was begging and crying and Wolfwood had made a promise to himself, so he stood up, kissed the top of Vash’s head, and shut himself in the bathroom. He stood against the door for a minute, listening to Vash’s sobs, then he crawled into the bathtub and cried.
——
Before Wolfwood decided it was time to get up the next morning, he laid in the tub and tried to remember the last time he’d slept alone. It must have been in that farmer’s barn, the deaf one with the thomases. But he didn’t remember sleeping a wink, just the soft, downy feathers on the thomases as he pet them on his lap. He remembered that first night with Vash, though, vividly. Remembered the weight of Vash’s head on his shoulder, his hand curled on the crook of his elbow, his little snores in his ear. He remembered his eyes drooping closed almost immediately, soothed by the rhythm of his breathing.
With a sigh, he picked himself up out of the bathtub, tiptoed through the hotel room and went across the street for breakfast.
When he got back, Vash was laying on his side on the bed facing the door. Wolfwood paused in the doorway, but when Vash didn’t tell him to leave, he made his way to the table and started laying out the food. Wolfwood cleared his throat, eyes on the table.
“I didn’t know if you’d be up to eating, so I got a little bit of-“
“Come here,” Vash said quietly, holding out a hand.
Wolfwood looked up at him. He set down the food and slowly made his way closer. When he touched Vash’s hand, Vash pulled him gently into the bed. Wolfwood tried to be careful as he crawled up to lay beside him.
They stayed like that, quiet and not touching except for their hands held between them, for a few minutes. Wolfwood’s eyes drank up Vash’s face. Under his eyes were purple and his cheeks were muddled red, but he didn’t look like he was in pain, just tired.
After awhile, Vash maneuvered his hand so he was holding Wolfwood’s wrist and pulled it towards him, under his shirt. Wolfwood put up some resistance, but Vash’s grip was firm as he dragged his hand to the middle of his torso. Wolfwood braced himself for the feel of his sticky and uneven stitches.
But the wound felt strange. There was none of the jagged skin and blood from yesterday. The wound felt weeks old, instead of hours. Wolfwood propped himself up and moved his hand to pull Vash’s shirt away to see for himself, Vash rolling over to let him see clearer.
Sure enough, the wound was still there, but it was swollen and lifted. The stitches were still stuck in Vash’s skin, but they were pointless, his skin closed under them.
Wolfwood looked at him wondrously.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t really know,” Vash whispered. “When I’ve gotten into scrapes before, busted knee, sliced a finger, everything always closed up quick, but-“ He shrugged. “I’ve never had a wound so big. And I don’t know what it looks like inside. Feels okay, though.”
Wolfwood brushed his fingers along the line again before pushing himself off the bed.
“Where’s the scissors?” Wolfwood asked after rummaging through their duffel.
“I’m not letting you cut your hair,” Vash answered, matter-of-fact.
“Fuck off.”
“They’re in my pant pocket. Third from the bottom,” Vash sighed.
Wolfwood grabbed an egg sandwich and the scissors. He handed Vash the sandwich before he gently started working on snipping the stitches.
After he was done, he laid back down on the bed. Vash brushed crumbs off his shirt before he settled on Wolfwood’s chest, hand resting on his stomach. Wolfwood reached for it with his own and fiddled with his fingers for a few minutes, settling into the assurance that Vash was fine and they were safe. He heaved in a big breath.
“I love you,” he said, staring at the ceiling and willing his body to stay relaxed.
Nobody moved or breathed for several moments.
“Your heart is beating, like, stupid fast,” Vash whispered.
Wolfwood’s face cringed, eyes closed.
“Fuck. Off.”
He felt Vash turn his face into his chest to laugh and thought seriously about strangling him. Wolfwood patiently let him get it out of his system for a minute before he rolled Vash over and started tickling his sides.
“Don’t! No, I-“ Vash cried, laughing against the attack.
“You’re a dickhead.”
“Nooo, st-stop! I love you, too! Stop!”
Wolfwood stopped.
They stared at each other. Vash’s face was redder than Wolfwood had ever seen it and his eyes were wide and bright. His smile was blinding.
Wolfwood realized the ache in his cheeks was from his smile back. He slid his arms around Vash’s waist and rubbed his forehead against Vash’s sternum to hide. Vash’s hands settled on his head to tangle in his hair.
They fell asleep like that, mid-morning sun streaming through the window, laying together and incandescently happy.
——
Wolfwood didn’t think meeting the parents could really compare to meeting the interdimensional, near-omniscient sisters. Especially considering he had already met them and this was more of a vindication, evidently, of some long suspected family gossip, Vash had told him, embarrassed.
But he stood there, one extra button done up, as Vash blabbed about the drama from the day before. Wolfwood thought he was sharing more than strictly necessary, considering they really only needed the confirmation that Vash’s inside was as patched up as his outside. Why would his sisters need to know that ‘Wolfwood’s eyes had glittered in the morning light’ and ‘his hands had held him with untold affection’?
After an excruciatingly awkward hour of Wolfwood pretending he was enraptured by the welding of the current pipes, Vash laced their hands together and led them out, confirming his lungs were clear and his sisters were smug.
——
Wolfwood kept the motorcycle, much to Vash’s disapproval, although he couldn’t deny it was convenient. Wolfwood’s arguments that it was his souvenir from the worst town he ever visited and that he looked damn good on it were apparently not as compelling.
They blew through a few towns, played a little poker, shot a few targets. Wolfwood got a small subset addition on Vash’s poster as his ‘Partner in Crime’ and they blushed furiously.
They returned to their room one night from a card game and Vash stopped them outside the door, pushed Wolfwood up against it, and kissed him so softly, like a secret, on his mouth.
It opened a floodgate. They had taken to kissing alarmingly well, if Wolfwood said so himself. They could kiss forever. They kissed in alleyways before grabbing a lunch, kissed against the motorcycle with the hot desert sun shining down on them, kissed before they parted to separate casino tables. They kissed before bed, long and slow and heated, pressed together from head to toe, until they fell asleep.
Now, Wolfwood was standing by the door waiting for Vash to come back to their room from an errand he had made up. He was jacket-less, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair brushed back. He’d made the bed, set the table, lit a candle, and there was a second attempt at spaghetti dished on to the plates when the door burst open.
“Okay, it took four stores but I found the prid! But you haven’t had a cystic acne flare up in years and I just think I would have noticed you getting a boil, so I don’t think you even know what one is . If you’d let me look, I just-“
Vash cut himself off when he finally turned to see Wolfwood standing by the table, hands at his side.
“What’s going on?” Vash said, tentative as he walked further into the room.
Wolfwood cleared his throat.
“Vash,” Wolfwood started, brandishing a hand at the table. “Would you go out with me?”
Vash’s face lit up like a beacon.
“On a date?” Vash squealed.
“Yeah,” Wolfwood said, trying to press down on the smile that was threatening.
“Yeah,” Vash answered, bouncing on his feet. “Should I change?”
“Nah, food’ll get cold. ‘Sides you already look good. Let me take your jacket.”
“Ok,” Vash said, jittery, as Wolfwood came around the table and helped him slip the jacket off his shoulders. Wolfwood stood there, awkwardly, before throwing the coat onto the side table. He held out his elbow for Vash to take and led him to the table before pulling out the chair. Vash leaned over to press a startling kiss on Wolfwood’s cheek as he sat.
“Hey, don’t get fresh with me,” Wolfwood said, sitting in his own chair across the table.
He started pouring water into their glasses before he heard a wooden scrape and looked up. Vash had pulled his chair over until he was sitting next to Wolfwood. He had a small smile on his face as he held his glass out for Wolfwood to fill, bumping his shoulder when he froze.
“Mmm, this is good! I didn’t know you could cook,” Vash exclaimed.
“Eh, can’t. I tried, started a fire. Had to dump it outside. This is from the place down the street.”
Vash put his head in his hand, laughing, as Wolfwood looked on and smiled.
“But I could have. I liked doing it, before the fire part,” Wolfwood grinned.
“Maybe you can start trying to cook more. Probably better for us anyway. At least once the threat of flames is resolved.”
“Shuddup,” Wolfwood bumped him.
The dinner went on like that, an easy back and forth. They asked how each others day was, feigning shock at the right parts despite the fact they’d been together the entire time, sans prid trip.
When they were finished, they stayed sitting at the table for a little while, playing footsie and drinking their water like it was wine. Vash had faked a yawn to get his arm around Wolfwood’s shoulder and Wolfwood had leaned in to kiss sauce off of Vash’s chin.
“Oh my god,” Vash gasped as Wolfwood moved down his neck.
“Hmm?”
“You don’t even have a boil, do you?”
——
Neither of them were nervous.
Wolfwood had not hyperventilated for ten minutes while he did the dishes and Vash had not gotten out of the shower only to hop back in for another one right after. That would be ridiculous.
No, they were two relaxed, confident men who were ready to have sex after a date. Vash had asked if Wolfwood would like to come back to his place and Wolfwood had choked on his water in his excitement to say yes. Then Vash had said, ok, I’ll meet you there, just let me freshen up and now Wolfwood was sat on the bed and Vash had shut the water off for the second time and there was a door between them but they could still feel each other.
Vash opened the bathroom door wearing just a towel around his waist and Wolfwood gulped.
He’d seen Vash’s body, obviously. Not only had he patched up his gun shot wound, but they’d been together since they were small. He’d taken care of Vash when he was sick and shared showers when they were broke and changed in front of him most days. But Vash was walking towards the bed in just a towel for Wolfwood and it felt a little planet shaking.
Vash sat on the bed facing Wolfwood and he could see a drop of water cling to the hair on his arms out of the side of his eye.
“I love you,” Vash said.
Wolfwood turned his face up to look into Vash’s eyes.
“I love you, too.”
“You didn’t have to come over if you didn’t want to,” Vash said, biting on his thumbnail.
Wolfwood reached up and pulled it out of his mouth, brought it to his own and kissed it. Let their hands drop to the bed.
“I want to,” Wolfwood said. He felt like his stomach was going to crawl out of his mouth and his head was swimming, but he wanted to. He’d never wanted anything but Vash.
“Ok.” Vash brought his arms up and wrapped them around Wolfwood’s shoulders, tangled them around his neck. “I’m nervous.”
Wolfwood made a gruff noise as he put his hands on Vash’s waist.
“‘M not.”
“You’re not?” Vash snickered.
“Nope,” Wolfwood pushed forward until he could smoosh their noses together. Vash was still giggling when Wolfwood kissed him.
Vash was a different beast kissing. Everything that made him obstinate and headstrong redoubled until it overwhelmed Wolfwood, made him moldable. When they kissed, Vash moved Wolfwood how he wanted him and all he could do was let him.
Vash pressed against Wolfwood until he fell back, Vash crawling over him. His movements made the towel come off completely and it tangled between them. Wolfwood could feel Vash’s growl in his mouth when Vash reached down and threw it away from them.
Quicker than he had expected, faster than he had prepared for, Wolfwood was covered in skin. It felt like endless iles of it, wind rough and goose-fleshed. Vash was cool to the touch, strong and powerful above him. Wolfwood wrapped his arms around to touch the shoulder blades he’d longed for, felt them shift as Vash grabbed his shirt and dragged it off him.
He released Vash only long enough for the shirt to untangle from his arms. Vash tossed it aside before gripping the hem of Wolfwood’s pants. Wolfwood tried to lean back to help him but Vash whined when he pulled away like he couldn’t stand it. Wolfwood was helpless to it, fell back into kissing, ran his hands down until they gripped Vash’s thighs.
Vash had his thighs on either side of Wolfwood’s hips, gripping them close. Wolfwood wasn’t sure how Vash planned to get his pants off while keeping them tensed like this, but he guessed it wasn’t meant to be his problem with the way Vash was working to distract him. Vash was moving down to bite sloppy kisses into the hinge of Wolfwood’s jaw, and Wolfwood looked down right when Vash pushed his pants down, got his first good look when Vash shifted his weight to pull them off.
Wolfwood felt out of his mind, brain foggy when he saw Vash’s body on top of him. It was like the visual knocked him over the head with a crowbar. Vash was flushed on his chest and he had fuzzy blonde hairs under his navel and between his legs. He could feel Vash’s mouth on his neck and watched Vash’s hands bully his pants down until he could kick them around his ankles. He could feel and see how much Vash wanted him, quick movements and panting breaths. Wolfwood ran his hands to Vash’s front and brushed his fingers down between his legs.
Vash crooned as he lifted up from Wolfwood’s neck and looked down. They watched as Wolfwood added pressure, searching cluelessly around the purple reddish skin. He’d never seen a vagina before, really, only glimpses of Vash’s when he forgot to lock the bathroom door. He knew the concept, vaguely. He was surprised at the prettiness of it, petals of skin dripping wet and soft between his fingers. When he took one between his knuckles and gently rubbed, Vash’s hips thrust forward and Wolfwood’s throat convulsed.
His own dick was an afterthought, not even registering until Vash reached a hand down to cup it in his hand. God, Vash’s hands. That were so soft and his fingers were so long and Wolfwood was going to get his mouth on them, someday, please.
The petals were just as distracting. They stuck together and stuck to his fingers and were pulling him closer, but Vash was leaning forward to kiss him again, too. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to focus with this many pleasures, but Vash didn’t seem to have that problem.
Vash wasn’t tentative like Wolfwood. He was gripping Wolfwood’s dick in his hand, twisting it up and down, bringing liquid from the top to the base. Wolfwood didn’t know if Vash had a natural talent or if Wolfwood was just easy for him, but he knew he was going to come quickly if Vash didn’t stop.
He let his fingers get led to where they were wanted, felt the heat envelop them as he sunk two into Vash. He gasped into Wolfwood’s mouth. His eyes flew open, and Wolfwood was already watching. He could see Vash’s pretty eyes widen. He felt more than heard a low rumble where their chests were pressed together and his heart leapt when he realized what it was.
“You purrin’?”
“Hn,” Vash responded, jaw dropping a little as Wolfwood pulled his fingers apart, rubbed them in and out.
“‘S it any good?” Wolfwood asked, pathetically. He was feeling terribly insecure. Vash’s hand had stopped moving but he still gripped Wolfwood’s cock fiercely. Wolfwood was realizing, with the pause of the sticky sounds of Vash’s hand moving, that he’d been whining for awhile now while Vash was very quiet. “Tell me how to make it better.”
He bit his lip, not liking the desperation in his voice. He watched Vash’s eyebrows raise.
“You’re-“ Vash cut himself off with a gasp. His inside had done something, clutched at Wolfwood’s fingers and so he curled them to pull them back out, used his thumb for leverage. “You’re good.”
Wolfwood’s hips thrust up without his permission. He watched Vash’s eyelids flutter as he started working his hand again.
“I- I am?” Wolfwood asked. “You gotta tell me for real. I don’t wanna mess it up.”
“I don’t-“ Vash hummed as Wolfwood’s hips kept lifting. “Don’t even know how that would happen.”
Wolfwood tried to stop the roll of his hips but they were out of his control. He whined, felt himself working up to a teetering orgasm when Vash released him to press his hands firmly to Wolfwood’s hips and hold them down to the bed.
“Oh, God,” Wolfwood cried and threw his head back. His fingers were twitching inside of Vash and he could feel the silky petals petting at his palm. His wrist was dripping with Vash and he was kind of scared the sensations on his hand alone would make him come.
Vash wasn’t having it.
“Don’t even think about it,” Vash kissed into his temple. He grabbed Wolfwood’s wrist. “Three, please.”
Wolfwood swallowed as Vash pulled his hand out. When Wolfwood shakily lifted up his third finger, Vash sank down on them again.
Wolfwood moaned as Vash pulled his wrist in and out in tandem with his flexing thighs. He tried to move his fingers, adjust his arm, but Vash put him where he wanted. He had a palm to balance himself on Wolfwood’s stomach, and a grip on Wolfwood’s wrist and was moving up and down on top of him while Wolfwood just watched.
“Vash,” Wolfwood choked trying to swallow his spit. He turned his head to try to see Vash’s face and saw him already staring with a breathless smile.
“You’re beautiful,” he gasped out and Vash’s grin turned feral.
Vash pulled his hand out and Wolfwood groaned like he’d been hit. He felt tears well in his eyes and his face started to burn. His hand felt cold.
Vash adjusted, moved his hips up. Wolfwood became aware he was gripping one of Vash’s thighs like a vice, nails digging marks into his skin. He tugged them out and pet at the crescent scrapes, trying to sooth.
He looked up to find Vash was watching him, smile turned tender. Vash used his thumb to smooth out the fingers he held until Wolfwood’s soaked hand was flat. Then he pressed it down over his stomach at the same time he pressed Wolfwood into him.
In that moment, head fuzzy and body sweaty, Wolfwood realized Vash was insane. Vash was bent over him, kissing his lips, moving up and down, groaning against him, holding Wolfwood’s hand to his stomach, while his other hand tangled and pulled Wolfwood’s hair.
Wolfwood didn’t think humans could survive this. He stared helplessly into Vash’s eyes, vaguely heard his own begging in his ears.
“Please, please, please-“ He hadn’t ever heard his voice so soft, keening. Vash was still kissing him, Wolfwood shuddering against him more than kissing him back.
Vash’s hips ground down on him, his petals squished between them on the downstroke. When Vash pulled away, they wrapped around Wolfwood’s dick, sticky caresses that didn’t let up.
He was panting. He was breathing fast. He was looking at Vash with pitiful pleas for mercy in his eyes and Vash shook his head slowly.
“You’re gonna come, now,” Vash whispered, and Wolfwood did, gasping.
His hands curled against Vash’s thigh and stomach, his hips bucked up into him and all he could see was Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash’s pretty eyes as he came endlessly.
When he came back from the edge, he was shaking. Vash was holding Wolfwood’s face in both of his hands, thumbing away his tears, and he was glowing.
“Shhh,” Vash was whispering, grinding down faster. “Oh, Wolfwood, baby.”
“Va-“ Wolfwood needed to see Vash come desperately, needed to feel Vash come on his dick, needed it more than he’d needed it for himself. He gripped Vash’s hips and thrust his hips up with his last dregs of strength. Vash’s eyes widened and his head wobbled against his forehead, plant marks pulsing along his skin. Wolfwood could feel his come gushing out where they were connected, dripping on to their hips.
“Oh, oh, Wolfwood,” Vash came beautifully, soft and silky, on top of him. He whined Wolfwood’s name, clutched down on his softening cock. His petals grip spasmed and his marks grew blinding and he looked otherworldly, divine. Wolfwood had never been more in love.
He collapsed on top of Wolfwood, after, their hips still twitching into each other.
Wolfwood tickled his hands up and down Vash’s back as they came back to themselves. He mouthed kisses on Vash’s temple and felt him shiver.
Wolfwood had never, ever felt better than he did in that moment. Vash was so beautiful, so comfortable in his arms. Wolfwood was so comfortable, too, pressed down into the soft bed by Vash’s weight.
Maybe he’d just close his eyes for a little while. They could rest their eyes for a few minutes and then get up and take a shower together. Or maybe just wipe off with a towel because he was really sleepy. Just in a minute.
——
It was dark out when Wolfwood woke up, his head laying on Vash’s shoulder and his hand resting on his chest. He could hear Vash’s heart beating steadily beneath his ear and smiled.
Wolfwood felt vaguely sweaty, sticky together, but nestled in closer anyway, feeling all the places their skin touched beneath the blanket.
He knew Vash had woken up by the way his breath changed. He hummed to let Vash know he was awake, too, and felt Vash’s arms squeeze him.
He wiggled so he could look up at Vash and place a kiss on his chin. Vash hummed in pleasure before he opened his eyes.
“Good morning, Vash,” Wolfwood whispered, beaming.
“Good morning, Wolfwood,” Vash whispered back, the same.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
They grinned goofily at each other for a few minutes, trading soft, sleepy kisses.
“It’s still really late. Do you wanna go back to sleep?” Vash asked.
“Nuh-uh,” Wolfwood turned over onto his back and stretched out. “Wanna shower.” He scratched his hand in Vash’s hair. Vash preened into the touch. “Wanna come?”
In the shower, Wolfwood washed Vash’s hair and soaped his body. He was malleable like this, wet and lax. Wolfwood pressed closer to mouth at his ear while he rinsed him off.
Vash’s petals took a little interest when Wolfwood leaned down to rub his thighs. They reached out for his fingers, missing them by inches. Vash’s lips mirrored them, jutting forward to try to catch Wolfwood’s who ducked to kiss his cheeks. He taunted him for a few moments, watching eagerly before he pecked a kiss on Vash’s lips and dropped down on his knees and pushed his face into his cunt.
He heard Vash’s gasp right before his thighs pressed against his ears.
Wolfwood rubbed his face against the petals, licked his tongue around their bases. He tasted the slick that started to drip off of them and onto his tongue, something tart and peachy.
He tried to let Vash’s moans guide him to what felt good for him, because it all felt good to Wolfwood. He was addicted to the noises Vash made, above him but also the slippery sounds of Wolfwood mouthing at the petals. They were gripping at his face back, taps and pulls along his cheek to pull him closer. He rubbed his nose in along the folds until he was soaked in Vash’s scent, molded to his body. He was gasping in breaths in between thick strokes of his tongue and the need to breath was so distracting he wished he could live off Vash instead of air.
He reached a hand up to massage against the base of the petals, listened to Vash’s soft cries and flicked his tongue in deep before every piece of Vash seemed to convulse up around him. More slick dripped into his waiting mouth and he lapped it up, wiggling his face in closer and searching for more.
“T-too much, baby. Wolfwood.”
He pressed a final kiss to a lingering petal before taking in the image of Vash from his seat on the floor. His hair was slicked down from the water pouring on them, soap bubbles sticking to his skin, and he was grinning breathlessly, leant against the shower wall. Wolfwood had a fleeting thought that this is where he belonged, knelt down in front of Vash, making him happy.
Then Vash reached down to grip a hand in his hair and yanked him up to meet his lips and he couldn’t think of anything after that.
——
“Alright, I found one,” Wolfwood said, strolling up to where Vash was leaning against Angelina. He brandished a newspaper in the hand not carrying a paper bag.
“Hmm, good! And donuts?! You spoil me,” Vash said, pulling Wolfwood in by the belt loops for a kiss before stealing the bag out of his hands. He rustled around for a donut while Wolfwood secured their duffels in the side car.
“I was thinking this morning, it’s probably actually a good sign we’re having trouble finding sick plants, don’t you think? It means there’s less of them!”
“Hm, yeah, makes sense. They’ve got their little brother nursing them back to health. Since you’re all interdimensionally connected or whatever, maybe healing a few helps the whole ecosystem.”
Wolfwood was absolutely spitballing, waving a hand around. He was confused by half of what Vash explained to him about plants, but Vash grinned at him like he’d said something semi-intelligent, so he chalked it up to a win.
He finished strapping up their packs and looked over at Vash. He looked bright and happy in the morning sun, munching on breakfast with a satisfied smile. When Vash glanced back at him, Wolfwood’s heart skipped so hard he felt dizzy.
“What’d I do to deserve you?”
Vash’s smile softened as he stepped around the bike and reached out his hands. Wolfwood met them halfway with his own and they locked their fingers together. Vash dragged Wolfwood forward to kiss him gently on the lips before pulling back a hairsbreadth.
“Don’t question good things,” he whispered.
He then let go of Wolfwood’s hands to reach behind him and smack his ass. Wolfwood yelped.
“You ready to go?” Vash asked, swinging a leg over the motorcycle.
Wolfwood rolled his eyes before grabbing Vash’s helmet and strapping it securely to his head. He took a moment to bump his forehead to the visor, holding Vash close by the neck, before sliding on his own helmet and climbing up behind Vash.
He adjusted their positions a little, started the engine, and they drove off together into the desert.