Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Beauty Mark ❯ One-Shot

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Beauty Mark




Notes: This is just a quickie that is really the product of listening to the song
“Beauty Mark” by Rufus Wainwright at a time when the fluff monster struck me.
Fluff..? What!? Fluff?! Yes indeed. You read correctly my little friends.
And oh yeah, this lovely vignette is dedicated to my darling Homefry, who’s
Been very busy as of late with work, and whom I missed so I wrote this for.
Enjooooy. :D :D




“Can’t we just—Ya know, stay in bed all day? We could just send a message down to the Mayor an’ tell him I’ll be down just as soon as I’m done err—Blessing my relics..?”



----

I may not be so manly,
But still I know you still love me
Even if I don’t have your beauty mark.


-----


It had been one of those lazy kinds of days. One of those days where, though it had been hot, it hadn’t been uncomfortably so. A sleepy kind of day, where even the youngsters found themselves stretching out in the shade of a wooden porch, to nap in the languorous heat. And now that the double suns were sinking on the horizon and making a spectacular red-orange display of it, people were moving slowly down the dusty streets; Called home by the dinner bell. Sage old ones seemingly wrinkled as much by the sun as from age sat rocking steadily just outside their front doors. Snapping beans, peeling potatoes. Or simply watching with keen eyes startling in one so old, the people that ambled along.
It was from his perch atop a balcony that Nicholas had just as lazily watched the progression of afternoon into evening. It had, amazingly enough, been quite the peaceful day. Which was nothing other than a small miracle when taking in to consideration just who he was rooming with. But it was a small town, and Vash, having ditched his usual get up for a less conspicuous ensemble, had been behaving himself remarkably well. Or at least that was the assumption Nicholas was running on. Nothing had blown up yet, and that had to count for something.
Taking another drag from the crumpled cigarette clamped between his lips, Nicholas heaved a great, satisfied sigh. This was good. Actually, it was damned good and throwing his arms wide then, he flopped backward onto the floor of the tiny balcony jutting from his equally tiny hotel room. As an after thought ( Or more likely to prevent himself from spilling ash down his front.) he removed the faintly smoking cigarette from his mouth and ground it into the ashtray he’d brought out with him earlier that afternoon.
The setting suns were warm on his face, and it felt nice. Even the near non-existent breeze that tickled through his hair and toyed at the tails of his un-tucked and unbuttoned white shirt felt nice. His legs that were still poking out over the edge of the balcony between the railings, he began to sway as he shut his eyes against the spell the heat and suns were casting on him.
How long Nicholas lay their basking he couldn’t have been sure—He supposed he must’ve drifted off because in the next instant there was the weight of someone sitting atop him that hadn’t been there before. Two palms were pressed flat to his chest, and while one was abnormally cool, the other was not. Open popped one eye, then the other, and blinkingly Nicholas peered up at the person looming above him. At first all he could make out was a blobby yellow blur of colour, but slowly they separated to form a familiar shock of corn silk yellow hair that was flying every which way but loose. The warm set of fingers splayed across his person moved then, traveling upward to administer a somewhat painful flick to the very tip of his nose. Nicholas frowned.
“What was that for..?” He questioned, only to receive another flick for his troubles.
“Felt like it.” Vash replied cheerily, and then repeated the action yet again. And while Vash grinned cheekily above him, Nicholas frowned and batted Vash’s hand away. “Well don’t. It hurts.” He said with all the agitation he could muster. But the sun was making him feel more lethargic than he had been feeling before and the attempt was a feeble one. Vash didn’t flick his nose again though, and was sliding himself down along the length of Nicholas’ body and laying down beside him on the balcony floor. One arm still remained draped across Nicholas’ chest however; it’s fingers were much too preoccupied with playing with one of the buttons on Nicholas’ open shirt.
“You looked so peaceful lying there.” Vash said meekly, his voice coloured with a measure of quiet reverence and even a touch of guilt. “I didn’t want to wake you but—But just had to touch you.” Vash’s fingers were beginning to tickle as they moved feather-light across Nicholas’ skin tracing patterns at random. And though the tickle beneath his breastbone Nicholas may of credited to Vash’s touch, a warmth that had little to with the fading suns had lodged itself in the same area and had begun to spread. Nick smiled.
“I don’t mind.” He replied with a hearty yawn, and then turned his face toward Vash. “So what’ve you been up to all afternoon?”
Vash seemed to shrug beside him. “Mm. Not much. Just wandering.” He replied.
“Sounds like fun.” Nicholas said flatly between another hefty yawn. At his side Vash gave a good-humoured snort as he issued a light cuff to Nick’s arm. “Hey, at least I actually did something unlike you who’s been just sitting out here all day.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was a nice day, and I didn’t feel like moving. What’s the big deal ?” And when Nicholas was met with comfortable silence all he could do was give a finalizing little nod of the head. “Hmpht. Thought so.” But Nicholas was smiling, and when he turned to peer over at Vash, who had since propped himself up on one elbow, was pleased to see that he was smiling as well. Again came that tingly, ticklish heated sensation and suddenly Nicholas felt himself reaching upward to finger at a few bits of Vash’s soft, yellow hair with it’s blackened roots. From there the pad of his thumb moved of it’s own will to smooth over the distinguishing mark beneath Vash’s left eye. Craning his neck upward then, Nicholas pressed a small kiss the spot.
“Tongari-ai.” He whispered quietly as he withdrew. And Vash, who was still smiling though somewhat more demurely now, had a faint pinkish hue about his cheeks. Nicholas grinned, and running his forefinger down the length of Vash’s nose, gave the very tip of it a suddenly flick. But before Vash could even speak, Nick was leaning upward again and nipping playfully at Vash’s lower lip.


“Just felt like it.” He said with a smile.