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Wolfwood is at his wit's end. Every day is a long day on No Man’s Land but today feels especially excruciating. Angelina had broken down miles away from civilization and it’s hell dragging an unresponsive bike through the sand already without also having to drag a nearly unresponsive Humanoid Typhoon along at the same time.
Wolfwood doesn’t even know why Vash is being so obtuse. Sure, it’s hot but it’s always hot and it never seems to bother Vash even though his skin is buried beneath multiple layers of leather. Today, though, he’s on form, his non stop whining only pausing when they finally see a town in the distance.
“Civilization!” Vash crows, turning to Wolfwood with a dusty smile on his face.
Wolfwood kind of wants to hit him. Almost certainly would, if he had a free hand between Angelina and his cigarette. “Thank fuck,” he says, rolling Angelina farther along. It’s less than a mile away, he thinks, and they’re there quicker than he thought.
Vash looks like he’s never seen a town before, poking around alleyways and storefronts.
Wolfwood works hard at maintaining his grumpy attitude throughout the day, even as Vash wheedles at him to cheer up and eat some of the thoma jerky he’d just bought.
“What you need—” Vash says, once they’ve parked themselves at a bar for dinner, gesturing with his glass, “is more patience.”
Wolfwood snorts, “You could just stop being so annoying,” he suggests, taking a sip of his own whiskey.
“Wolfwood,” Vash whines,” it was so hot and we walked so far .”
“It’s always hot,” Wolfwood starts.
“We’re not always walking though!” Vash interrupts.
“Okay,” Wolfwood says, lighting up a cigarette. “Why am I the one who needs to learn patience and not your spikey ass?”
“I never get irritated,” Vash says with a superior air. Wolfwood can’t help but laugh.
“Don’t try to pull that shit on me, Needle-noggin, we all saw how you were acting the other day,” Wolfwood says, taking a long drag off his cigarette.
Vash pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in an exaggerated frown, “You’re so mean to me,” he whines.
Wolfwood ashes his cigarette on the wooden floor, catches a glare from the bartender, and quickly moves the cigarette over the ashtray on their table. “Point is,” he says, taking another drag, “why’s it always me who’s gotta change and not you?”
“You ever heard the saying:” Vash starts, “Old dog, new tricks?”
“You’re saying you can’t change,” Wolfwood says.
“Nope,” Vash grins at him. “Just that I’m perfect the way I am.”
Wolfwood laughs again, Vash’s grin turning up even more at the corners at the sound. He likes it when Vash is like this; he can’t pretend to be grumpy any longer. Vash’s smile is infectious, broad, and real in the smoky light of the bar.
Wolfwood holds out his glass and Vash clinks his own against it. “So,” Wolfwood says, “I need to be more patient?”
Vash nods, the grin turning sly, “You’ve got a great teacher!”
Wolfwood laughs again, ashing his cigarette carefully into the ashtray. “Who?” Vash looks offended. “No offense, Spikey, but I don’t think you know the meaning of the word.”
Vash puffs up with indignation, “I am a very patient man,” he says.
Wolfwood looks him up and down, enjoying the way that Vash goes pink at the attention, even when he is being the flirtatious one.
“Anyway,” Vash says, huffing out a breath, “I was willing to teach you, but since you’re being such an ass about it —”
“Never said I wasn’t willing to learn,” Wolfwood says, taking a drag off the cigarette. It’s hard not to know what Vash is implying with the way he looks at Wolfwood from under his lashes. He’s pissed off a flirty Vash one too many times in the past and gone to bed with a serious case of blue balls and he’s not looking to repeat that experience.
Vash knocks back his glass of whiskey in one smooth gulp, Wolfwood watching the bob of his throat.
Wolfwood stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray as Vash fishes a few double-dollars for their meal out of one of the innumerable pockets in his stupid coat.
The night is cool when they step outside to walk across the street to the motel, a breeze in the desert air passing across Wolfwood’s face
The walk back to their motel is a short one. This town is barely big enough for both a motel and a bar, the single main drag of the town cutting a path between them. The motel is quiet when they enter and make their way down the hall to their room. Wolfwood can feel the anticipation in his chest.
It’s easy enough to pin Vash against the door, sliding the lock closed with a hand resting against his hip. Vash makes a noise, half encouragement, and half protest as Wolfwood kisses him, caging him up against the door with his arms.
Vash goes boneless in his arms before seeming to realize that he has a plan here, straightening up and putting a few millimeters of distance between them with his prosthetic.
“Wolfwood,” he breathes, and Wolfwood can feel the breath of his words against his lips. “I thought you were going to be good for me?”
Wolfwood chuckles a rumble of vibration in his chest. Vash shivers. “Did I say that?” Wolfwood drawls, dragging his lips against Vash’s jaw.
Vash’s hand comes up to drag against his neck, down his shoulder and chest. “You — mm — you did,” he says, still not pushing Wolfwood away yet.
“You’re gonna teach me,” Wolfwood says, tone teasing.
Vash shivers again and finally, his hand grows tense, pushing lightly at Wolfwood’s chest. It’s not enough to actually make him move, even though he knows Vash easily could, but the slight pressure lets him know that Vash is serious about this. He rocks back on his heels so he can see the features of Vash’s face fully.
“Undress,” Vash says, voice only a little shivery, “and get on the bed.”
Wolfwood pauses to mull this over in his mind for a single, precise second. For all that he protests, there’s something special about Vash being so overwhelmed with desire that he forgets to be selfless, forgets that he’s not allowed to want . Wolfwood strings him out just long enough that Vash opens his mouth again to speak before taking a step back and raising his hands in submission.
“Whatever you say, Spikey,” he says, letting his voice get deep in the way that he knows drives Vash crazy. There’s something about pulling Vash along by a thread of desire, something that keeps him shackled to Wolfwood. Wolfwood likes to get him out of his stupid spikey head sometimes and this is one of the best ways to do it.
He puts on a show, sliding his jacket off one shoulder and then another and letting it drop to the floor. Vash is leaning against the door, attempting to be casual despite the red flush on his face and the way his flesh hand is balled into a fist, fingernails surely digging into his palm.
Wolfwood takes it slow with the shirt, not dragging the seconds out into a full striptease but exaggerating the unbuttoning of his shirt and the unrolling of his sleeves in just the way that he can see Vash following the movements of his fingers with bright eyes. He can’t help but smirk when Vash has to take off his glasses, folding them and holding them loosely in his prosthetic fingers. Wolfwood removes his own and drops them into the pile of his jacket and shirt.
Vash is keeping a careful rein on his reactions, so there’s only the lightest sigh from across the room when Wolfwood unbuckles his belt, sliding it through the loops on his slacks and letting the belt buckle clank when it hits the floor.
Vash is chewing on a crooked smile now, eyes so bright the blue is nearly blinding. For a few heartbeats, Wolfwood just stands there, watching the tension spool through Vash's limbs, and waits until he just barely pushes himself off the door to walk forward. Wolfwood smiles at him and pushes his pants and underwear down his legs, stepping out and over to the bed, lying down on his back as instructed. He ignores how hard he is but Vash surely doesn’t, his eyes tracking the movement of Wolfwood’s cock.
Vash looks immensely pleased with him and Wolfwood lets the feeling of his approval wash over him. Being good for Vash is truly something but he can't ever let him have it without a fight.
Vash walks over, the fabric of his coat swishing around his legs. He strips the coat off, fiddling with its many buckles and straps, letting it slide to the floor before sitting on the bed, carefully not letting Wolfwood's legs touch him. Wolfwood lets his eyes rake over Vash’s body, over that stupid outfit that gets him going way more than it should.
For a moment they just pause, Vash is smiling at him and it’s mostly a good smile with only a tiny little bit of menacing thrown in. Wolfwood feels the anticipation curl tight in his gut.
“See?” Vash finally says, letting his flesh hand rest on Wolfwood’s calf, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Thought you’d be mad I made a show of it,” Wolfwood admits and Vash laughs.
“I liked it,” he concedes. “You knew I would.”
Wolfwood rolls his shoulders, stretching the kinks out, “You always do,” he says. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss you off.”
Vash laughs again, “I’m in an extra good mood today!” he coos. “Just for you.”
“That mean you’re gonna be nice?” Wolfwood says.
Vash pretends to think about it, tapping the index finger of his prosthetic hand against his lip. Wolfwood follows the motion with his eyes. He desperately wants to lean up and kiss Vash but he knows that will piss him off. “Do you want me to be nice?” Vash finally asks.
Wolfwood says nothing, fingers fidgeting at his sides.
“Wolfwood,” Vash says, voice gaining an edge to it, “I asked you a question.”
There are a few moments of charged silence, the feeling of anticipation growing tighter and heavier. “No,” Wolfwood finally grunts out, quiet, but still loud enough for Vash to hear him.
Vash smiles and it’s all menace this time, a smile that sends shivers down Wolfwood’s spine. “Good,” he says. “That’s what I thought.”
“Are you gonna…” Wolfwood says, lifting a hand off the bed to gesture at Vash’s general state of being. “Not much fun being the only one undressed.”
Vash tuts at him, “You’re so greedy,” he says, “What are you willing to do to get me to undress?”
Wolfwood’s mouth feels very dry, he licks his lips reflexively. “Anything.” he says, “You know.”
Vash hmmms again, “I need specifics, Wolfwood.”
Wolfwood swallows, “I’ll eat you out,” he offers, trying not to let a plaintive note creep into his voice.
Vash waves his hand, “You’ll do that anyway,” he says, voice dismissive. Wolfwood’s face burns. He’s right. “But,” Vash says, fingers drumming a white-hot staccato into Wolfwood’s calf, “if that’s all you have to offer…” he lets his voice trail off.
“What do you want?” Wolfwood says, and he can’t help the way that his voice grows needy.
“You’ll do as I say,” Vash says, “And you won’t come until I say you can.”
“Yes,” Wolfwood says immediately, the word out of his mouth before Vash has even finished speaking.
“You’ll tell me when you’re close,” Vash says. It’s not a question.
“Anything,” Wolfwood repeats, licking his lips again.
Vash sighs but it’s not his I’m disappointed in you sigh, it’s his what am I going to do with you sigh, so that’s alright then. He pats Wolfwood’s calf comfortingly before standing up and getting to work on his outfit.
Even when things are heated enough that they only ever get most of the way undressed, Wolfwood usually lets Vash handle taking his own clothes off. He’s figured out the straps and buckles of the belt, but his fingers are wary of how Vash’s complicated armor unclasps and unbuckles. Vash seems to make short work of it though. He’s not putting on a show, simply unclasping the armor on his chest, hips, and thighs before peeling off the leggings underneath. Wolfwood tries not to let his vision instantly focus on the wetness between Vash’s legs.
Vash snorts when he notices, dumping his clothes in a pile adjacent to Wolfwood’s and striding back over to the bed, swinging one leg over to straddle Wolfwood’s chest. Wolfwood lets out an exhale that wants to be a groan at the feeling of Vash’s pussy sliding against his stomach.
“So,” Vash says, “you said you were going to eat me out?”
Wolfwood half-laughs, grabbing Vash by the thighs and pulling him up “C’mere, Spikey,” he says and Vash grins, readjusting himself until he’s hovering tantalizingly close over Wolfwood’s face.
“Remember,” he says, “tell me if you get close.”
Wolfwood cocks an eyebrow at him although it’s difficult to look properly skeptical at this angle, “Think pretty highly of yourself, don’tcha,” he says.
Vash lets his flesh hand come down and threads his fingers through Wolfwood’s hair, pulling just slightly. Wolfwood knows it’s coming but can’t stop the whimper that escapes his lips. Vash smiles at him again, sharp as a knife. “You were saying?”
“Shut up,” Wolfwood says, tightening his grip on Vash’s thighs and pulling him down onto his face. Vash’s laughter turns into a shocked inhale of breath when Wolfwood’s tongue makes its presence known, licking a stripe through Vash’s folds.
This is the best place on the planet, Wolfwood thinks, abstractly, as he lets the smell and feel of Vash’s pussy surround him. No place he’d rather be, that’s for sure. He knows exactly what will take Vash apart the fastest but he skirts around it, teasing Vash’s clit and hole until Vash grinds down on him in frustration.
“Don’t tease, Wolfwood,” he says, voice shaky.
Wolfwood hums amusement around Vash’s clit and Vash lets out a thready moan. “Ffffuck,” he says, thighs losing the war against holding him up. It always takes a second for Vash to fully let go, to let his full body weight rest deliciously on Wolfwood’s mouth.
First battle won, Wolfwood turns to his task with relish. Vash’s thighs tighten around his head but it’s not enough to muffle the sounds he’s making, the sounds that have gotten them kicked out of more motels than anyone else on the planet, probably. Wolfwood fucking loves it. His grip on Vash’s thighs tightens and he thrusts his tongue deep inside of Vash, pushing in as deep as he can go.
Really, in order to actually come from this, Vash needs Wolfwood’s fingers inside of him and his mouth on his clit, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not enjoying it like this, rocking and grinding his clit against the bridge of Wolfwood’s nose as his tongue drinks up the slick pouring out of Vash’s cunt directly from the source.
“Mmm,” Vash says, rocking his hips in Wolfwood’s hold. “Fuck, that’s it,” he’s constantly talking, a litany of praises spilling from his lips, “You’re so fucking good, Wolfwood, fuck, you’re perfect, you’re everything.”
Wolfwood hums in answer and Vash moans at the vibration. Vash rocks once, twice against him before pushing himself up and away from Wolfwood’s mouth on shaky legs. Wolfwood lets out a moan at the loss, blinking up at Vash.
“So good,” Vash murmurs, letting his hand uncoil from Wolfwood’s hair to cup the side of his face. Wolfwood feels his cock twitch at the praise, hips shifting on the bed. Vash notices because of course, he does, looking back at Wolfwood’s cock with a smug look on his face.
Wolfwood shifts, sitting up against the headboard as Vash moves back down to straddle his belly, sliding around and making sure to avoid any skin-to-skin contact with Wolfwood’s cock. Wolfwood groans in frustration, “You’re really gonna make me work for it tonight,” he says, still slightly breathless.
Vash grins, “I asked you what you wanted!” he says, mock helplessness in his voice. Wolfwood rolls his eyes, hands coming back up to rest again on Vash’s hips.
Vash places his hands over Wolfwood’s, gently lifting them off his hips. “Hands above your head,” Vash says evenly. “You think you can stay like that on your own?”
Wolfwood obediently lifts his arms above his head, holding his forearms in the opposite hand. He seriously considers it, “What’ll you do to me if I can’t?”
Vash considers it for a moment, “Not sure!” he says brightly. “Would it help if I tied you up?”
Wolfwood swallows, and feels his muscles twitch at the thought, “Yeah,” he breathes, “that’d work.”
Vash nods and carefully disentangles himself from Wolfwood’s limbs, rising and crossing over to where the Punisher lies resting against the wall by the door to the room. He carefully extricates one of the straps, bringing it over to bind Wolfwood’s forearms together.
It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but it still feels new every time, Wolfwood will never get used to the feel of the familiar worn leather wrapping his arms together. Vash is strict, making the binds tight enough that there’s no give when Wolfwood tests them but not tight enough that they constrict in any way. Vash stands up, looking at his handiwork. “How do they feel?”
Wolfwood has to blink a couple of times to get the fuzzy feeling out of his mind. “S’good,” he says.
Vash laughs, patting the underside of Wolfwood’s bicep before sitting on the bed next to him. “You’re so good like this,” he coos, running a hand down Wolfwood’s side in a manner that’s probably supposed to be soothing.
Wolfwood blinks one more time, and swallows, “Spikey,” he starts, his voice feeling raspy, “if you don’t touch me I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Vash laughs again, a full-bodied thing, head thrown back. “Maybe not so good,” he chides, swinging a leg over so he’s straddling Wolfwood’s thighs again. “Just let it go, Wolfwood,” he says, voice low and even. “Let me take care of you.”
“S’ that what you’re doing?” Wolfwood says, eyes still glued to Vash.
“Shhh,” Vash soothes, and then — fuck — he’s moving up inch by inch, raising off just enough that the head of Wolfwood’s cock brushes against his soft wet folds. Wolfwood lets out a choked sound at the feeling, tipping his head back and staring at his own bound arms. “Look at me,” Vash chides.
Wolfwood’s gaze flips back, watching Vash tease himself with Wolfwood’s cock is almost too much of a sight for him to bear, all his concentration focused on not bucking his hips up against Vash. Vash has his prosthetic hand on Wolfwood’s hip, helping to hold him down, but he’s not pressing with all his strength, Wolfwood could break free if he really wanted, could fuck up into Vash.
Vash is betting that Wolfwood’s desire to be good is stronger than his need. Wolfwood can see it on his stupid smug face, that grin that says that he knows exactly what Wolfwood is thinking. Vash’s flesh hand reaches down and grasps the base of Wolfwood’s cock and Wolfwood’s eyes briefly flick up again before remembering he’s supposed to be looking at Vash.
“So good,” Vash coos, voice still so steady. Like this he can rub the head of Wolfwood’s cock on his clit, rolling his hips to tease it against his hole. “You’re going to tell me, right? If you get close?”
Wolfwood lets out a strangled assent and Vash smiles, “Good,” he says, approvingly, and then angles Wolfwood’s cock just so and sinks down.
“ Fuck ,” Wolfwood says, with feeling. It’s so much like this, Vash is so tight, so hot inside that Wolfwood has to close his eyes against the sensations. Vash has a hand braced on Wolfwood’s chest now, but the temptation to buck his hips up, to fuck Vash properly, is almost too much to bear.
Vash is shushing him again but he can feel Vash’s thighs twitch where they’re wrapped around his hips. He opens his eyes, Vash is flushed now, a rosy pink from his hairline down to his chest. He finally looks affected, his breathing heavy, and Wolfwood has approximately half a second to feel somewhat smug before Vash is lifting up and dropping down.
Wolfwood can’t help the strangled moan that tears itself from his chest. He can hear Vash panting, little words of praise dripping from his lips as he fucks himself on Wolfwood’s cock.
Wolfwood’s arms twitch, he could rip the strap apart if he really wanted to, he thinks, could have his hands on Vash’s hips in a second, could plant his feet on the mattress and use the leverage to fuck up into the tight heat of Vash’s cunt, could fuck him until he’s dripping all over Wolfwood’s hips, fuck him until he can’t think, can’t remember his own name.
Wolfwood lets out a shaky half-whimper, half-moan and Vash’s eyes rake over his face adoringly, like he knows exactly what’s going on in Wolfwood’s head.
He’s had the thought, before, that Vash can read minds. It wouldn’t be too off base, he thinks. The alternative, that he’s simply so easy to read that Vash can see through him like an open book, is almost too much to bear. He’s not used to being known like this, never had anyone who actually cared what he wanted out of things.
Vash cares too much. Vash cares enough for this whole world of sinners.
Wolfwood’s arms spasm, then go limp as the fuzziness settles properly into his brain. There’s a feeling, a warm spring of pleasure coiling in his gut. It takes a second to feel it through the haze but — “Close,” he says, voice shaky. “M’close.”
“So good for me,” Vash says, voice so sweet as he lifts completely off of Wolfwood’s cock.
Even though the haze, the loss is overwhelming and Wolfwood can’t help but let out a groan, his hips twitching minutely, seeking friction. “Mmm,” he says, throwing his head to the side, “so fucking mean.”
Vash is still cooing at him, running a hand down Wolfwood’s side, “Shh, you’ve been so good, Wolfwood,” he says like he’s comforting him. “I promise, you’ll get what you want soon.”
Wolfwood lets out a whimper that he’s not entirely aware enough to be embarrassed by and Vash smiles. He holds himself there for a few more seconds, watching as Wolfwood’s breathing evens out, as his eyes flicker back to awareness.
Once Wolfwood can feel that he’s far enough away from the brink to go again, he half-nods, “M’good,” he says.
Vash looks positively enraptured, sinking back down on Wolfwood’s cock without any further ado.
It’s not any easier, knowing what’s coming. Vash has moved his hand off Wolfwood’s chest, his fingers rubbing deliberate circles over his clit, head bowed as he pants, lifting himself off of Wolfwood and rhythmically dropping back down. Vash slides back just a bit and the new angle is obviously working for him, little moans spilling from his lips as he fucks himself. Wolfwood’s toes curl with the desire to move, he can feel Vash’s thighs shaking around him. Vash can push himself pretty far but Wolfwood knows even he gets tired eventually.
“Fuck,” Wolfwood says, hoarse. “You look so fucking beautiful like this, angel.” He swallows, watches Vash’s fingertips slide through his own wetness, looks at where his own pelvis and thighs are glistening with Vash’s slick, “You look so good taking my cock, fuck, could watch you like this forever.”
Vash lets out a whimper, his hand speeding up, his movements becoming more frantic. “Fuck,” Wolfwood says, his voice shaking only a little. “Come on, are you gonna come for me? Come on, angel, squirt all over me, I know you can do it.”
Vash lets out a sob, drops hard onto Wolfwood’s cock, and Wolfwood’s hips and thighs are drenched in the spray of liquid gushing out of Vash as he fucks himself through his orgasm. Wolfwood is floating, the feeling of Vash clenching hard around his cock absolute bliss. It goes on long enough that he thinks maybe, just maybe…
And then Vash pulls all the way off of him with a wet-sounding whimper.
“ Fuck ,” Wolfwood curses. Vash is kind of flopped over to the side, his thighs not supporting his weight enough for him to hold himself off of Wolfwood’s cock. “Angel,” Wolfwood can’t help it, can’t help himself, knows this is right where Vash wants him, “Please,” he grits out. Vash smiles and wipes his sweaty hair out of his eyes with a wet hand.
He pets Wolfwood’s chest with his prosthetic, the warm-cool contrast sending shivers up his spine. He’s still so, so hard. It hurts. He wants to move, wants to flip over so he can pin Vash to the bed with his legs and rut against him until he comes. He wants to be good for Vash. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore.
Vash lets both of them come down slowly until they’re both breathing steadily, Wolfwood’s chest rising evenly. “What do you want, Wolfwood?” Vash finally says, sliding off of Wolfwood’s hips to rest by his side, laying over Wolfwood’s chest.
“Please,” Wolfwood says again. He doesn’t know what to ask, it’s too much, even like this.
“Shhhh,” Vash comforts him, running a hand down his chest. “I’ve got you.”
Vash slides down until his face is level with Wolfwood’s cock and Wolfwood has to look away, not entirely sure that the sight won’t make him come completely untouched.
“Look at me,” Vash says, voice the softest steel. Wolfwood can’t help but obey, getting a smile out of Vash. “Good,” he says, and then wraps his flesh hand around the base of Wolfwood’s cock and licks the head into his mouth.
Wolfwood immediately has to focus all his energy on not thrusting up into Vash’s mouth. His arms twitch, stretching and pulling against their bonds. “M’not gonna last,” he says shakily. “You should—” his words are cut off by Vash sinking down farther onto his cock. The warm wetness of Vash’s mouth is almost too much, Wolfwood freezes for a second, stuck on the precipice.
Vash pulls off with a wet noise, “It’s okay,” he says, eyes locking with Wolfwood’s. “You can come.”
It’s over embarrassingly quickly after that, Vash bobbing back down and Wolfwood finally, finally letting his hips move, shallow enough thrusts that he won’t choke Vash but the feeling of finally being able to move is too overwhelming and it’s only a few short moments before he’s coming down Vash’s throat, hands twitching with the desire to wind his fingers through Vash’s hair.
Vash lets Wolfwood’s cock slip from his mouth and pillows his head on his crossed arms on Wolfwood’s stomach. “Learned anything?”
Wolfwood gives him a look, “Not sure,” he says. “Might have to show me again.”
Vash laughs, delighted, sitting up and scooting up the bed until he can undo the strap around Wolfwood’s arms, massaging the places where the leather cut into the skin with his hands. Wolfwood stretches his arms out in front of him and lets Vash cuddle up to his side, sweaty skin sticking together.
“Thanks,” Vash says, and Wolfwood rolls his eyes.
“Nope,” he says, “Not doing the thing where you thank me for fucking you.”
Vash makes an indignant noise, “I wasn’t doing that!”
Wolfwood gives him a look out of the corner of his eye, “Sure you weren’t, Spikey.”
Vash grumbles, “Wasn’t,” he says, mumbling into Wolfwood’s neck. “Thanking you for being such a good boy.”
A shiver runs up Wolfwood’s spine and he cuffs Vash lightly on the head, “Knock it off, you can’t pull that shit with me unless we’re having sex, you know that.”
Wolfwood can feel the smile pressed into his neck, “I’m right though,” he says. “You’re my good, good boy.”
Wolfwood sighs, and wraps his arms around Vash’s shoulders, pulling him close. They are both horrifyingly sticky, the motel comforter under them almost a lost cause. “We need to shower,” he says, squeezing Vash’s shoulders.
“Mmmmmmno,” Vash complains, burrowing his head deeper into Wolfwood’s neck. “Don’t wanna.”
“Spikey you can’t be a big baby like that after what you just did to me,” Wolfwood says, hesitating, before, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?”
Vash’s head pops up into Wolfwood’s field of vision, a grin on his face. “I dunno,” he says, “Do you want me to?”
Wolfwood glares at Vash for a full five seconds. Vash doesn’t give an inch, sitting there with a beatific smile on his face. “Fine,” Wolfwood grumbles. “ Yes. ”
Vash pats him on the chest, “Good boy.” Before Wolfwood can protest, Vash is standing up, sliding off the bed, and reaching out to grab Wolfwood’s hand in his own, pulling him towards the bathroom with a smile.
Wolfwood lets himself be pulled, his limbs going slow and heavy. Vash guides him into the bathroom, propping him up against the door like a doll while he adjusts the shower.
Wolfwood lets himself float — it’s not too often that they have time to have the hazy goodness of aftercare, usually one or both of them fall asleep, their schedule necessitates it.
Vash pulls him into the shower and steadies Wolfwood with a hand on his bicep when he wobbles. Wolfwood looks down, noticing that Vash still has his prosthetic arm on.
“Do you want me to?” Wolfwood asks, nodding at Vash’s arm.
Vash shakes his head, “S’fine, we can do it later.”
Vash does what he said he would — takes care of him. Wolfwood still feels a little strange about it. Vash had been pretty strict about this the first time they’d done something like this, asking Wolfwood every few seconds how he was feeling until Wolfwood had decked him in frustration.
Vash looks pleased as punch that Wolfwood is asking for it, this time, and takes his time washing Wolfwood off in the warm spray of the shower, massaging shampoo into his hair and rinsing it out carefully.
By the time he’s completely clean, Wolfwood feels a little less jelly-legged, hands turning Vash so he can return the favor.
“You don’t have to—” Vash starts, but Wolfwood cuts him off.
“Neither of us has to do anything,” he says, voice stubborn. “I want to.”
This had been the hardest part, convincing Vash that he was allowed to be needy after sex, that Wolfwood wasn’t going to drop him in the bed and ignore him. They’d played at the opposite roles before — Vash had been almost shy about asking Wolfwood if he wouldn’t mind being in charge for once. It’s something that Wolfwood has more than enough experience with and he’d accepted in a heartbeat.
Getting Vash to actually stay still after had been an ordeal. Wolfwood always thinks he’s finally corralled the slippery fucker into staying put and letting Wolfwood take care of him, but then Vash will get it in his head that he doesn’t deserve it, or something, and, well. Two steps back.
This time, though, the fight slips out of Vash visibly, his muscles relaxing. “Sure,” he says. “Thanks, Wolfwood.”
“Don’t have to thank me,” Wolfwood replies, the response almost automatic at this point. Vash huffs a laugh but doesn’t respond.
By the time they stumble out of the shower, the water has gone mostly cold, that somewhat alarming lukewarm stage before you’re blasted with freezing cold water. Most of the shampoo is out of Vash’s hair, Wolfwood thinks, and they dry themselves off in the tiny bathroom.
“Bed?” Vash asks and Wolfwood nods.
There’s one immediate problem when they make their way back into the room, Wolfwood staring at the fucked-up bedsheets as though they are doing him a personal disservice.
Vash follows him, still rubbing a towel through his hair, laughing when he sees the look on Wolfwood’s face. “We can just pull them off,” Vash says and reaches to pull off the comforter which is the most ruined bit of the lot.
Between the two of them, they manage to get rid of the offending sheets, creating a kind of nest out of the remaining sheet and blanket. It’s not cold in the room, thankfully, it’s a mild night out in the desert.
Vash changes into the clothes he sleeps in and unlatches his prosthetic while Wolfwood lights up a cigarette by the window.
“Are you gonna sleep like that?” Vash gestures at Wolfwood’s nakedness, pulling his shirt over his head.
“S’not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, Needle-noggin,” Wolfwood says, giving Vash a look.
Vash laughs. “Suppose so. It’s fine with me.”
“Thanks for your approval, Your Highness,” Wolfwood says, tone acidic with sarcasm. He takes another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. “You can too, y’know.”
“What?” Vash asks. “Sleep naked?” Wolfwood nods, blowing smoke out the window.
Vash shrugs, “I just never do,” he says, “It’s fine, you know I get cold easier than you.”
Wolfwood knows no such thing, but he drops it, stubbing out his cigarette on the windowsill. Vash is lying in bed by the time he comes over, switching off the light on his way.
It’s quiet in the dark room, he can just barely hear the sound of Vash breathing next to him as he lays down.
“Night, Needle-noggin,” he says, turning over on his side. It’s no secret that they’ll wake up curled together, Vash tucked in under Wolfwood’s chin, but they pretend like it’s not a foregone conclusion each time, starting out the night on their separate sides of the bed.
“Night,” Vash says, his voice quiet in the emptiness of the room.
Wolfwood tries not to lie awake staring at the ceiling. It’s times like these, when all other stimulation is gone, that he finds the hardest. It’s difficult not to let his mind trail back to things he’d rather not think about, like how long he and Vash can keep this up, how long they have of playing travelers in the desert before things catch up to him.
He turns over, arms reaching out to pull Vash closer to him. He’s asleep or at least convincingly pretending, only a sleepy noise pulled from his chest when Wolfwood cradles Vash’s back against his chest. It’s easier like this, to let the thoughts that plague him slip from his mind like water. He presses his nose to the back of Vash’s neck and breathes in deep, letting Vash’s scent soothe him into a dreamless sleep.