This takes place sometime between episodes 18 - Goodbye for Now - and 19 - Hang Fire.
Gentle sunslight reflecting off the ceiling finally roused him, late the next morning. He sighed, and smiled, relaxed, at ease, content. His arms full of Vash. His nostrils full of Vash. His mouth and eyes and mind and dreams full of Vash. Happy as he'd never believed possible. He sighed again, blissfully and buried his face in the soft, soft blond hair.
"H'llo..." The gunman rolled over slowly, careful not to catch any of the metal on and in his body against Wolfwood's more fragile skin. Smiling sleepily with meltingly beautiful turquoise eyes from under that soft mass of hair...
The priest groaned with sheer joy and hugged him tightly, showering his face and throat with kisses. Vash arched backwards, panting, unconsciously rolling his hips as his erection rubbed against Wolfwood's.
Oh my God...
As Wolfwood's hands slid down to cup the gunman's buttocks, Vash flipped them both so that the priest was lying under him. He supported himself on his elbows and gazed down into the priest's face, his own questioning, serious. Wolfwood stretched up and kissed him, lingeringly, pulling him down to rest against heated skin. Vash smiled into his mouth, then pulled fractionally away.
"Well, I guess that answers that question..."
He slid one knee between the long smooth thighs below him, gently nudging them apart, left hand carefully tracing the planes of Wolfwood's face while the right wrapped around their pulsing erections, stroking tightly as the priest's hips arched up against his and gathering sticky warm liquid into his palm, slicking it between the priest's legs as Wolfwood gasped and quivered helplessly below him. Then, oh so slowly, pressing gently into Wolfwood's warm, welcoming body...
As Vash filled him, the priest bit his lip to stifle a cry, back arching as he throbbed and came, unable to help himself. Panting, slumping back, the contrition in his eyes changing to something entirely less innocent as Vash began to move, slowly at first, hips circling, seeking the right angle... As Wolfwood stiffened and gasped below him, the gunman smiled and began an infuriatingly slow thrusting, teasing the priest, gliding over that one small area that had Wolfwood whimpering, incapable of coherent thought - let alone speech! - as he ground his newly-sprung erection against Vash's abdomen.
"...oh... God.... Vash!!... you... bastard..."
The gunman paused, deep within the priest's body, twitching very slightly.
"Oh. I'm sorry." He pulled sharply backwards until just the very tip of his shaft was still within Wolfwood's body. "Would you like me to stop?"
The priest dug his fingers bruisingly into the gunman's shoulders with a hoarse, strangled scream.
"You... wanna... die?"
Vash grinned and started pumping, smoothly, rhythmically, eyes half-closed, lips parted, expression as close to ecstasy as Wolfwood had ever hoped to see as he immersed himself in the moment. Pulling himself upright onto to his knees and ramming hard into the priest's body as he climaxed, head thrown back, his hands convulsively clutching at Wolfwood's erection as the priest stared up at him, his own pleasure momentarily forgotten.
...so beautiful...so incredibly beautiful... how could anyone hurt something this beautiful?
As Vash slumped forward, bonelessly, gasping, Wolfwood wrapped his hands around the gunman's where they clasped his erection. The slight extra pressure was enough to pull him into his own orgasm - a quiet, shuddering, blissful climax quite unlike any he'd ever experienced before, and the more precious because of it. Awed, he pulled a quivering Vash down into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to his brow.
"I'm sorry... I didn't hurt you, did I?" The soft voice was uncertain.
Wolfwood sighed and hugged him even closer, stroking languidly, lovingly down his back. "Idiot..."
I'm about as close to loving you as I've ever been to anyone, ever...
"I'm hungry."
The voice was drowsy. Wolfwood stirred, stroking the blond hair tickling his shoulder.
"Not surprised. Must be lunchtime..."
Vash kissed his neck - then slid a hand down his stomach to his groin.
"Mmm. Sticky."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Sorry. Won't do it again... eeep!"
Wolfwood had rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips, holding his arms above his head. As Vash gazed up, wide-eyed, the priest groaned and kissed him.
"I can resist anything but temptation."
The gunman pulled him into a warm embrace - then chuckled as his stomach rumbled loudly. Wolfwood sighed and sat up.
"OK, OK. I'll go get some doughnuts..."
"Oh, would you? Thank you so much. You're very good to me."
The priest grinned. "That's OK. You can pay me back later."
"Um, I don't have much loose change..."
Wolfwood leered. "I'm not talking about that sort of payment..."
Vash smiled up at him.
It was another twenty minutes before Wolfwood managed to drag himself away...
Vash had showered by the time he returned (bearing a box of more substantial food in addition to the doughnuts: Vash might be able to survive on carbohydrates and sugar but it couldn't be good for him, certainly not in the long run...) and was clad in nothing but sweatpants and towel, which he was currently using to rub the water from his hair. Wolfwood studied him for a moment, intrigued.
"Vash?"
"Hmm?"
"Your arm..."
The gunman glanced at him, then stretched his left arm out.
"This one?"
Wolfwood touched it lightly, nodding.
"Nice piece of work."
Vash shrugged. "It works. The hand's not as sensitive as the real one though."
Wolfwood held his left hand, stroking at the synthetic skin. "That's a pity."
"Can't be helped."
"How did you lose it?"
Vash froze, his entire body going rigid, a strange blue light playing in the depths of his eyes, his expression somehow alien. Wolfwood caught his right hand and stroked at the palm.
"Hey, it's OK. Calm down. I don't need to know, OK?"
It had no effect. Alarmed, Wolfwood pulled the unyielding body to him, wrapping his arms around Vash's shoulders and holding him tightly, rocking slightly as he'd rock a child suffering a nightmare. And it seemed to work: Vash's body gradually relaxed, and he pulled back from the priest, blinking, drawing shuddering breaths. He ran a hand distractedly through his hair, and finally gazed at Wolfwood.
"Sorry."
Wolfwood grinned, hiding his anxiety.
"Hey, no harm done. You OK now?"
The gunman nodded.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Want a coffee?"
Vash grinned. "And a doughnut..."
"I saw a bike while I was out: second hand - well, maybe fifth-hand - but looks in reasonably good condition."
Vash nodded absently, swallowing a mouthful of noodles, then glanced up at the priest, expression wistful.
"Do we have to go right away? I mean, couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"
Wolfwood took his hand. "Why?"
The gunman averted his eyes. "I like it here."
The priest grinned. "Do you mean you like it in this hotel - or you like being here with me?"
"You need to ask?"
"Guess not. You missed me too, huh?"
The blond head nodded. "Very much."
Mildly stunned by the admission, Wolfwood shifted closer, one hand wrapping around Vash's neck as he pulled the gunman to him, kissing him gently.
"It was horrible, not knowing where you were. I felt - kinda lost. Didn't like the feeling much."
Vash hugged him. "I'm sorry." The voice was low and quiet and filled with regret. "If I'd known... But you left, and you didn't tell me where you were going. And I didn't know if I would ever see you again. What was I supposed to do?"
Wolfwood sighed. "You're right. It was unfair of me to expect anything else." He grinned, lightening the mood. "But now we're together again, we can make up for lost time!"
Vash beamed at him. "I think I'll take a shower."
"You just had one!"
"But you didn't...."
Vash was a spontaneous - and inventive - lover...
They actually left Kasted three days later - not least because, since they had a long way to travel sitting on the bike the whole way, Wolfwood thought it best to let their bodies adapt to the physical - uh, exertions - of their new relationship. Well, to let his adapt anyway: Vash bounced back from whatever was done to him in no time flat. He just seemed to shrug off pain - but then, he'd had plenty of practice in dealing with it!
At any rate, by the time they left Wolfwood was feeling more comfortable, and sitting was no longer even a slight annoyance. But to be quite honest, the feel of Vash pressed against his back on the narrow seat, arms tight around his waist (and hands occasionally lower when he knew they were close to stopping for the night), was enough to take his mind off anything that might conceivably trouble him.
It was the evening of their fourth day of travel, and the sky had turned the colour of Wolfwood's eyes. He frowned and glanced warily at the small dust devils dancing along beside them. "Hmm. Wind's getting up a bit - I guess there's a storm coming. We ought to find shelter."
"OK..." came sleepily from behind him.
Vash hadn't slept well the previous night, waking the priest only a couple of hours after they'd both finally fallen asleep, sated and content, in each other's arms, the dinginess of the cheap hotel room disregarded in their shared happiness.
"Vash?"
The gunman was whimpering, right hand clutching at the scarred flesh of his left bicep where the gun attached to his body. There were tears on his face, although his eyes were closed.
"Vash, what is it?"
Wolfwood could only just make out the words. "Knives... no!" He twisted, and grabbed his right forearm with his left hand, pale skin bruising almost immediately with the force of his grip. "Don't! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it...!"
Wolfwood straddled his hips and grabbed his shoulders.
"Vash! C'mon, wake up! Snap out of it!"
The turquoise eyes flew open, and for one moment Wolfwood thought Vash would hit him: he'd never imagined seeing such blind, frightened rage in the gunman's face. Then Vash seemed to realise where he was, and who was with him, and slumped, every muscle relaxing. Wolfwood held his trembling body close.
"Bad dream. You OK now?"
He felt Vash nod against his shoulder.
"Want to talk about it?"
"No. I'm sorry for waking you."
"What are friends for?"
The gunman sighed and wrapped his arms around the priest's body.
"Go back to sleep."
As he was drifting off again, Wolfwood felt Vash extricate himself and rise from the bed. Through half-opened eyes he watched as the gunman stood at the window, arms wrapped around his body as he gazed at the stars, humming very quietly to himself. The priest sighed and moved to stand behind him, arms around his shoulders. Vash leaned back against him.
"You sure you don't want to talk?"
"Yes."
"It might help, y'know."
"It's too soon."
What did that mean? "Well, if you're sure... Come back to bed?"
"In a minute." He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes wistful. "Thank you."
Wolfwood kissed his neck. "Any time." He climbed back into the bed, a little troubled, and lay pretending to sleep (though both of them knew he was faking) until Vash snuggled up to him again. And apart from being unusually tired in the morning, Vash acted as though nothing had happened....
Wolfwood veered off the rough track they were following and headed for a handful of bluffs a couple of iles distant - there should be caves there, there usually were... Half an hour later they were ensconced in a really quite cosy little nook, coffee bubbling on a small campfire, listening to the howl of the rising wind. Wolfwood smiled.
"This is kinda nice."
Vash was stretched out on the ground, using his pack as a pillow.
"Sure is."
They were silent for a few minutes, then Vash sighed.
"What's up?"
The gunman shook his head. "It's nothing."
"OK. How about you tell me what you meant, the other night. That 'forty years' crack."
"Oh. I hoped you'd forgotten about that."
"Sorry, not a chance. So tell me about it."
Vash sat up, chewing on his lower lip for a moment, obviously wondering where to begin and how much to tell the priest. Wolfwood moved to sit behind him, one arm around his shoulders, the other gently stroking his hair, teasing the stiffness from the soft mass - something he'd found Vash enjoyed, if his subsequent ardour was anything to go by.
"You're not human, are you?"
Vash stiffened in his arms, but didn't try to change the subject. "Not quite..."
"How old are you, Vash?"
"Old."
"I'd kinda gathered that. How old?"
"More than a hundred years."
"Hm. D'you know how long you'll live?"
Vash shook his head.
"I see. And of course I'm only human, and won't live anything like that long. Well, that explains why you took your sweet time getting to the point. So I guess I have two options."
Vash had pulled away slightly and had twisted to stare at the priest, mouth open, eyes huge. Wolfwood ran a finger gently down his cheek.
"I can either leave you now, before we get even more involved..." Vash flinched, expression suddenly panic-stricken. "...and save you the grief of mourning me in five or twenty or thirty or maybe even forty years time, if I'm lucky. Or..." he kissed the gunman's cheek. "...I can do my damnedest to make what time we do have so good I leave you with only happy memories. What do you think?"
"Can we go with the second option?"
"You sure?"
In answer, Vash wrapped himself tightly around his lover, trembling, though whether with happiness or relief even he didn't really know. Wolfwood sighed into his neck.
And to hell with what Knives wants! I'll kill Legato myself if it's the only way we can be left in peace. Vash...
"There's something I have to do first, though." The soft voice broke through his reverie, and Wolfwood cupped his face. The gunman looked sombre.
"There's someone I have to find. We have unfinished business, and I can't bury the pain of my past until it's settled between us."
"Anyone I know?"
"Knives."
Wolfwood frowned to himself. Of course, he only knew one side of the story... "Knives? The name on the monument?"
Vash nodded. And for just an instant the hairs on the back of Wolfwood's neck rose as a shiver of foreboding ran through him. He shook himself and shrugged it off.
"Anything I can do to help?"
"No, my friend. Not in this."
"If you change your mind, just say the word." Wolfwood frowned: Vash had become introspective again. "Hey, c'mon. You're tired and so am I, and we have a long way to go tomorrow. Let's get some sleep."
Vash dragged himself back to the present with an effort and smiled. "You're right. It's always best to be prepared." He glanced down at his left arm. "I need to be prepared if I'm to face him..."
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