Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Something of a Departure ❯ Chapter 1

The credit for inspiring this fic goes to Tameiki XD.

Many grateful beta thanks to Nico, Ms Anon and Renet.

 

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The desert sprawled on in layers, unchanging horizon of too-familiar gold and quivering grey. The sting of wind and sand on his skin, rush of air past his ears and tugging at his hair with the speed of the bike told him they were making progress. The packed dirt of the road stretching away bullet-straight wasn't saying anything.

 

Despite his shades, he was still squinting towards the lowering suns, and even now the heat of them prickled at his hands, almost itching. His palms weren't left out either, the ridges of the handles hot beneath them each time his grip shifted. Sometimes he wondered how the hell Vash wore gloves in this heat, and other times it seemed like a damn good idea.

 

At least no one had shot at them today, though mostly that was because they hadn't seen anyone, but for the few cars and a bus going the other way. The last group of people they'd actually met had tried to kill them as usual, and he'd been driving with only short breaks since last night.

 

Times like this he badly wished Vash had learned to ride a bike. Just not badly enough to let him learn on his.

 

His eyes strayed briefly to the sidecar, Vash slouched within it. Looked like he'd fallen asleep, head tipped back and sideways, swaying with the bumps in the road.

 

Vash had been kind of quiet today, even when he was awake. Quiet by Vash standards anyhow, which didn't mean he'd shut up for more than ten minutes at a time, just that the dribbling of inanities from his mouth had been patchy instead of a constant irritation. Even Vash the Stampede could suffer the effects of a night's stress and no sleep, apparently.

 

He turned his attention back to the road, and the steady shimmer-glare of the suns. Desert travel was never great, but it got worse when he was tired and gritty-eyed, the teary film over his vision swimming along with the heat haze. It screwed with your head after a while, knowing and feeling you were moving and never seeing it in the landscape. It was hypnotic, weirdly like dreaming, dreams where you ran like hell and never made it. He'd had a few of those.

 

He steered the bike wide around a rock in the road, kicked loose from the packed surface. Tempting for a second to let the sidecar catch on it, shake Vash awake. He could use something right now to keep him focussed and alert, even Vash's chatter. But he looked down at Vash, spikes of hair flattened back by the wind to ripple over his skull, and he let him sleep.

 

Most people looked stupid asleep, mouth half-open, dribbling, snoring, whatever, but Vash just looked good. Made up for it by looking stupid pretty much the whole time he was awake, of course, which would have been less annoying if it weren't deliberate. Wolfwood was on board with the adopted persona thing, but why the hell did Vash have to pick that one?

 

Back to Vash again. Everything came back to Vash lately, his thoughts veering off that way whenever he didn't steer them somewhere else. And that would have been less annoying if he could figure out what it was he really thought.

 

Hell, maybe chewing over Vash's oddities was as good a way of keeping himself awake as any. Any kind of thinking worked better when Vash's mouth was shut for once, but 'specially the Vash-orientated sort. Maybe he could even figure out just what the hell it was about Vash that made him so permanently horny.

 

He'd always liked the feel of muscle hard against him, honed, athletic bodies and the obvious benefits of flexibility. He liked intelligent eyes and a sharp sense of humour, and nobody was gonna turn down a good-looking face when it came in a package with the personality. He liked lovers who knew how to make it work for him, and it seemed pretty clear Vash hadn't spent many of his years on this planet as sexless as his last two. But those were all benefits Wolfwood could find elsewhere, had found before in... other people.

 

He'd always been something of a sucker for a mystery too, and while he wasn't keen to think of himself as someone who'd screw a strange alien for the hell of it, he had to admit Vash was more intriguing than if he'd been just another guy. But Vash had been fascinating before he'd known any of that, when they'd met on the bus and Vash had been 'just' the outlaw whose attitude and layers had instantly shattered his reputation.

 

Vash had screwed with his head from the start.

 

Vash's glasses were sliding down his nose some, his eyes closed behind them. He always looked so damn innocent that way, like he wouldn't know just how sick this world was. Like he'd never destroyed cities.

 

Innocence didn't do it for Wolfwood. It made him think of kids, and he'd known some at the orphanage whose innocence had held too much appeal for the wrong kind of people. He liked Vash awake, with eyes that studied and saw, that revealed something of the mind working behind them in every shrewd glance and flash of curiosity.

 

But he liked it when Vash's eyes lost that too, those moments when he let go the tension and just relaxed. And other moments when the focus was sharp on Wolfwood with no questions, all sex and desire and pleasure - oh yeah, he liked Vash's eyes one hell of a lot those times. And he liked the rest of him better yet.

 

His eyes flicked back to the desert ahead, quick check around, road clear the next couple hundred yarz. He should probably be looking at the road more and Vash less, but there was nothing to do but keep driving straight. He wasn't gonna fuck that up. And Vash was a hell of a lot easier on his eyes than the suns were.

 

Vash's eyes were open, and watching him.

 

Unconcealed analysis as he stared right through Wolfwood's shades, undeniable sexual interest as his eyes dropped to Wolfwood's thigh alongside him, everything compelling about Vash there in a single slow sweep of his eyes.

 

Not something he needed to be seeing when he was driving and his concentration was already shot.

 

He narrowed his eyes, using his lashes along with his shades to filter out the light bursting right at him. The desert hazed out a bit more, colours fading and edges blending, but the road still distinct enough as a line right into the tremor that should have been a horizon. He focussed on the road just ahead, checking for rocks, an offensive glare even there, reflected off pale sand.

 

Occasionally his eyes would flick to Vash. Once or twice, Vash was looking back. Mostly he was watching the desert, sweeping the horizon with eyes that didn't seem to blink at the suns.

 

Vash's hand reached up and tapped twice on his thigh, signal to stop.

 

Wolfwood scanned the terrain as he let the bike drift to a casual halt. He wasn't seeing anything unusual up ahead, but no point letting any watchers know they'd been spotted. Damn suns made it hard to be sure.

 

He left the engine idling, swinging his leg over to drop down to the dirt. His butt stayed resting against the seat, leaning his weight back on the bike as he stretched out his arms above him and made a quick check back along the road. "Problem?"

 

Vash was already out of the sidecar behind him, the wind-driven rustle and flap of coat-tails letting Wolfwood track him as he circled the bike. "Not the kind you mean." His voice was light, but with some kind of edge there, a tension below it that called the fake.

 

Wolfwood wasn't in the mood to deal with Vash's lousy evasive conversation style. "You gonna tell me why we stopped?"

 

Vash was right there, close and leaning closer, words spoken next to his ear. "I wanted to blow you."

 

He would have thought he'd heard wrong, if he didn't know his ears were so damn good. "What, here?!"

 

Vash smiled, quick and suggestive with a flicker of his eyebrows. "Why not?"

 

"Just like that in the middle of the goddamn desert?"

 

"Yeah. There's nobody for miles." Vash dropped to his knees, sand crunching beneath the metal plates on his leathers.

 

"Anyone could drive past!" Okay, traffic had been light, it wasn't all that likely, but he was damned if he was gonna end up with a record for public indecency just because Vash....

 

Vash smiled up at him, his fingers on Wolfwood's belt, a gentle tugging he could feel right around his waist. "You saying no?"

 

Wolfwood looked down at him, at curving lips and wicked eyes, Vash's hand at his zipper now, a pressure against his cock. "Hell, no."

 

Vash's grin widened, lips stretching tighter across his teeth. "Good." Vash's hand was in and reaching for him, air hot on his flesh and sharp with sand, just for a moment, and then Vash's mouth was there.

 

It was a good way to get a hard-on, teased and stroked into urgency by wet heat and careful touches, and his cock reacted fast. He shifted his legs wider, letting the bike take more of his weight, relaxing into the feel of it. Vash didn't pull back as he hardened, keeping the full length of him inside that fucking beautiful warmth, and Wolfwood never could figure out how he did that, because he couldn't take Vash in for more than a second or two before the gagging got too much. But it ranked pretty low overall on the list of incredible things about Vash.

 

Vash wasn't messing around this time, no tease, no play once Wolfwood was completely hard, just motion hot and deliberate. Vash's tongue could be fast and agile as the rest of him, and he made full use of it now, drawing back from his cock some to let his tongue swirl round the tip, over the ridge below the head. The sounds were a hell of a turn-on in themselves, drawn-out and wet, need for Vash flashing tense all through him with the slick, greedy movements at his cock.

 

Vash's hair was stiff, gritty with sand between his fingers, and he had to work on not gripping too tight, because Vash had bitched him out for that before, and he much preferred the sucking to the complaining, Vash's tongue working him quick and thorough, the sensations hot and sharp peaking him fast, and oh, like that, yeah -

 

Vash lapped at him gently as the shivers ended, playing him through it, then releasing him before it got too much. They knew pretty well now just how much the other wanted, how much they could take. Wolfwood untangled his fingers from Vash's hair, teasing the spikes something like straight again as he lifted his hands away.

 

Vash slid back to his feet before him, smiling in slight amusement, and Wolfwood pulled him to him, his hands full of suns-warmed leather, letting the bike support them both. Low rumble of the engine in his ears and in his body, the vibrations of the frame felt more strongly with Vash's added weight. "Wanna fuck?"

 

Vash's lip curled upwards in twisted humour. "I'll wait. Anyone could drive by, you know." His breath was soft on Wolfwood's skin before he pulled away.

 

"Fuckin' smart-ass."

 

Vash was already vaulting back into the sidecar, a tremor against Wolfwood through the bike as he slid into place, coat-tails somehow just settling out around him instead of getting all bunched up. "Weren't we going somewhere?" he asked, all cheerfully smug flashing teeth.

 

Wolfwood reached across to switch off the engine and snagged a smoke from his pocket. "May as well take a break now we're stopped." He could use a few minutes before he started driving again, else he really would fall asleep. He lit the cigarette, drawing hard and holding, waiting to feel the slight kick to his system before he released it, smoke dragged from his parted lips by the wind.

 

He smoked with lips and teeth, leaving his hands free to fasten up his clothes since Vash hadn't bothered. Oral was the easy, hassle-free way to get off in the desert, no cleaning required.

 

He wasn't gonna be complaining about it any time soon but, dragging leather through the buckle of his belt, he was starting to wonder just what had triggered it. Their sex life wasn't exactly staid - given the circumstances, it would be damn hard for anything they did to develop much of a routine - but blow jobs weren't normally quite that spontaneous.

 

Vash had slouched himself back in the sidecar, far as he could, head tipped forward and glasses high and close over his eyes.

 

If he wasn't asleep already, Wolfwood couldn't tell.

 

Wolfwood exhaled a stream of smoke right at him through tight lips, but it scattered long before it got there.

 

It drove him crazy all the times he couldn't figure what Vash was thinking. And then it drove him crazy that it drove him crazy. Okay, there was the thing where he had to find a way to keep himself alive through all this, and information was always good to have on that score, but Wolfwood wasn't an idiot, and he only really lied to other people.

 

He wanted to know what was with Vash when he got weird. He wanted to know.

 

Vash was still fucking with his head just by existing.

 

He flicked his dying smoke off into the sand, dug out the water flask in the bike's pannier. Tipped his head back for a few long swallows, looked at Vash and debated whether to offer. Screw it. If Vash was awake, he could ask. And if he preferred to play dead for his own twisted reasons, Wolfwood saw no reason not to let him.

 

He put the flask back, watching Vash for any sign he was awake, and finding nothing.

 

The bike settled on the suspension as he swung himself onto the seat, sidecar adjusting slightly with it. He fired her up and revved her some as he let the clutch out, acceleration biting hard, and Vash's head rolled naturally with the momentum.

 

Maybe he really was asleep.

 

No way in hell would Wolfwood have been able to do that, not right after giving a blow job and getting nothing himself.

 

The road stretched on, endless as before, the bike bucking over ruts now and then where the surface was all chewed up with no way round, and the only movement from Vash was the jolts through his relaxed body.

 

He drove another couple hours before he pulled off the road towards the shelter of a large rock set a few hundred yarz back. The other tracks heading off that way were at least a couple days old and starting to sandfill, so they'd have the place to themselves. It wasn't dark yet, but that would change fast enough, and he'd had more than enough of the dust and the constant dry itch in his throat.

 

The bike bounced over smaller stones and cracks as he steered a slow path round the bigger ones, Vash stirring awake at the change in movement, stretching out his arms and circling his shoulders. Wolfwood took the bike round the back of the rock - leaving it in view just brought thieves to hassle him, and one night with bullets at a time was enough.

 

There was an outcrop back there that kept off the wind some, and he killed the engine. He stayed put a moment, leaning low along the bike, appreciating the silence, only the hint of breeze sneaking past his ears, muted and soft.

 

Vash bounced up out of the sidecar, landing with a thump and a sliding crunch of sand. "Ugh. Wish you'd get a bigger sidecar, I don't think that one's my size." He took a couple of steps towards the bags at the back of the bike, staggering a little on the uneven footing. "See? My legs have gone numb."

 

Wolfwood slid down off the bike, non-vibrating solidity of the ground a very pleasant change. His ass had had more than enough of that damn seat too.

 

Vash had the water flask out already and his head tipped back, throat working hard as he swallowed. "Mmmm," he said as he finished, licking droplets from his lips, "that's better, I can breathe without choking. Felt like a cat had licked out the inside of my throat. Here." Wolfwood took the offered flask, and didn't comment on how not being able to breathe didn't seem to stop Vash from talking.

 

"You look awful," Vash told him, grinning bright and wide.

 

Wolfwood didn't need a mirror to know he looked rough, eyes red with no sleep and sharp suns, clothes and hair and skin greyed out by an uneven layer of gritty dust. And he didn't need Vash to tell him either. "No shit. You're not looking so great yourself." 'Cept Vash did look good. Sure, he had some dirt of his own streaking up the coat, and those spikes of his were completely fucked after a couple days on the bike, sticking up or sagging in clumps, but that didn't change the line of his jaw, of his cheekbones. His eyes were just as clear and sharp, never did lose that, not even when he had a bitch of a hangover.

 

Wolfwood drained the last of the water, warm and faintly metallic, grateful to rehydrate his mouth and throat, rinse away the layer of grit that had glued itself there. He replaced the cap and put it back with the others. Two still full, plenty to get them to Areia.

 

"Wolfwood?" He looked across at Vash, sitting sprawled in the sand now, legs spread wide with coat-tails everywhere. "Thanks." The smile was one of the good ones, and meant what it said.

 

He wanted to touch Vash. Touch him.

 

He leaned down to kiss him, his hand on his thigh and sliding up towards his crotch.

 

Touching Vash was hard, in a way that sex with Vash never was. The only thing hard in the sex was Vash, the lines of his muscles, and his cock. The rest of it was just their bodies and what felt good.

 

Kissing steady and soft, the shift of Vash's lips against his in response, coax and tease of a part-open mouth. Nice. Relaxing against Vash, letting himself curve into him naturally, knowing Vash would easily take his weight. His hand lying on Vash's leather-smooth hip, thumb reaching inwards in slow, stroking circles. Everything so casually good after a lousy day, pleasure right here for him to take.

 

Vash's hands rubbed over him, smooth up under his jacket, up under his shirt, pressing down along the tired muscles of his spine. Wolfwood arched into it, his groin pushing harder into Vash and his cock hardening with it. Vash's tongue on his lips, sliding over and in, soft touches against his own, all of it suffused with laziness under the slow rise of sex, and he answered in kind with his own movements, simple and sweet. Familiar smell of Vash, of gunpowder and sweat and sand, smells that meant madness and incongruous calm, ridiculous risks and an odd sense of certainty, the complexity of the man inescapable and leaching through into everything.

 

Vash gripped tighter on his body now, tugging him deliberately close, breaking the kiss with a quick smile and rolling them gently, pressing Wolfwood back into the sand. Vash's hands went straight to Wolfwood's jacket, buttons opened fast and effortless, cloth pushed away from his chest.

 

Vash in a take charge mood was fine with Wolfwood - he was a bit worn round the edges after all the driving, and he was easy with pretty much anything right now, so long as he got off. He sure as hell wasn't inclined to make a pissing contest of it, the way it sometimes was. He just wanted to feel good, have Vash feel good with him.

 

His head dropped back, pleasantly boneless, and he wriggled deeper into the sand, feeling it shape and mould to his body as his eyes drifted closed, as the breeze and Vash's fingers played across his newly-bared stomach. Mmmmm, yeah, appreciation sounding in his throat as he breathed out long and slow. "'s nice."

 

"Good." Vash's lips were still curved into a smile as he touched them to Wolfwood's, Wolfwood sliding his arms up around him to keep him there, hands tightening over his shoulder blades.

 

For all he could feel of Vash through the coat, it might as well be goddamn armour.

 

Wolfwood hated Vash's taste in clothing for a whole list of reasons, and this was right up near the top. Anyone would think the man didn't want to get laid, he strapped himself in so tight. Wolfwood hoped he'd catch a clue some time from his own more practical approach of three buttons max to a layer.

 

One last tug at Vash's neck, pulling their lips together with that bit more force just to make sure he'd take the hint and stay put, and he wriggled his hands between them to start untangling Vash from his defences. Buckles and straps and buttons stiff and sand-ingrained beneath his fingers, the give of each one a struggle and a fucking miracle. His cock stiff and twitching against Vash's thigh where it pressed up along him, because this was the slow and relaxed way to sex, yeah, but he had Vash's hands on his skin and Vash's tongue against his own, and that would do it every time.

 

He had Vash's skin beneath his own fingers now too, the coat finally falling open to hang between them. His hand on Vash's shoulder, alternately smooth and scarred as he stroked down, feeling Vash quiver-jump against him at that first bare touch. His hand on Vash's ass, the leather here so different from the coat, softer, finer, letting him know the body beneath it, trace the definition of hip and strongly-muscled thigh. Sudden, sharp exhalation of Vash's breath past Wolfwood's ear, and then he was sitting back and pulling Wolfwood after him, sliding the jacket from his shoulders. Black cloth spread flat, then Vash's hands turning him, encouraging him down onto hands and knees, and Wolfwood so very willing to do it.

 

So good to be able to do this sometimes, to run with it and just feel, the sensations of someone's body with his own, no hassle, no stress, just desire being slaked.

 

Vash's touch on his shoulders eased him lower, angling him more. "You in some kind of a hurry, Tongari?" he grinned, almost the casual tone he'd been aiming for.

 

Pressure of Vash stretching out along his spine, huff of warmth along his cheekbone. "I thought that was you," he said, soft and amused, the grip of his hand at Wolfwood's crotch making his cock leap in instant response. Okay, not the Vash reaction he'd been playing for, but definitely not a bad one. He dropped his hips forward for more of that hand, and Vash obligingly stroked him quick and hard, fabric almost rough against him with the pressure, and then the touch was gone.

 

His jacket was damp beneath his palms with traces of his own sweat, but soft, protecting him from the sharp bite of sand. Gentle brush of Vash behind him as he settled between his spread legs, the tug of hands at his waist, working buckle and buttons. Compelling urge hot through him to push back into Vash's crotch and forward into his touch, checked by the need to hold still and let him finish, to give Vash full access to his body.

 

And then his cock was freed into the soft leather and only slightly rougher fingertips of Vash's hand, a welcoming grip that tightened instantly around him. More movement at his waist, at his hips, the slide of cloth down his thighs, and the play of breeze over his naked, damp skin was almost a chill in its abruptness.

 

Two hands at his cock briefly, encircling the whole length of him in cool hide and warm skin, and then the bare fingers were gone, all leather now stroking easily along him and making him shudder and breathe. He could hear Vash behind him, part of his brain still automatically following and cataloguing every sound - quick damp noise of lips and a slide as Vash tugged off his glove with his teeth, low distinct rub of the coat as Vash groped in his pockets - even as most of him was lost in the sensations of his cock, of the slow rhythm of Vash's hand.

 

Steady grip and slide along him, his hips shifting forward into each downstroke, each spike of pleasure through his nerves. Sharp plastic snick, and then there were wet, cool fingers at his ass, pressing between his cheeks, and Wolfwood shifted his knees wider to make it easier, lowered himself onto his elbows to get the angle. Fingers pushing inside him, stretching him smoothly, slickly at the entrance, and then reaching deeper. And Wolfwood wanted them deeper, wanted them harder, lifting himself back to meet them then falling back into the hand at his cock with a slow shiver.

 

He let his head hang loosely, breathing a little harder now, watching the slide and twist of Vash's gloved hand on his cock, black against his own blood-darkened skin. Seeing the fast circling flick of Vash's thumb over the tip that rocked through his body at the end of every upstroke.

 

There was absolutely nothing bad about this, any of it, not the hand working his cock, not the fingers stroking inside him, but it could be better, could be more. He pushed himself back harder onto Vash's hand, twisting slightly to feel the stretch. "You gonna fuck me any time soon?"

 

Slight pause, then, "You want that?"

 

And that was a seriously weird question, because Wolfwood couldn't think of a time when he had Vash's fingers on his prostate and he didn't want his cock; the two things always tended to follow on naturally. "Yeah, I want that," he said with the heavily stressed words of explaining the obvious to the terminally stupid, "so get on with it."

 

The pause was a little longer this time, and when Vash spoke again his voice was almost suspiciously cheerful. "Hang on," he said. "I've got an idea." Vash was up on his feet and crunching away through the sand, leaving Wolfwood's cock and ass very badly neglected. He'd been feeling so fucking good, and now he was staring down at the black of his jacket, the way it shaped itself to the pressure of his hands.

 

The crunching noises stopped a few yarz away, replaced by rustling and occasional metallic clankings. Wolfwood lifted his head to look, tangled curiosity and outright frustration at Vash's actions. He was over digging around in his bag where he'd left it propped up against a rock.

 

"What the hell are you doing, Tongari?"

 

"I'm going to fuck you," Vash said, not looking up from his explorations.

 

"Good plan. It works better with you over here."

 

Vash grinned in success and pulled the saucepan out of the bag, waving it in Wolfwood's direction. "I'm going to fuck you with the handle," he said casually.

 

Wolfwood sat right back onto his heels, shoes digging in hard against his butt. "No, you're damn well not!"

 

"Why not?"

 

"Look at that thing! It curves completely the wrong way!"

 

"Not if I angle it right."

 

"It's metal!"

 

"Which means it's completely smooth. Here, feel." Vash had made his way back over during the exchange, and now he held the handle out towards Wolfwood.

 

Wolfwood wasn't gonna go anywhere near the thing right now, and probably never again. He'd rather go hungry. "And it'll be goddamn cold!"

 

"So's lube, but that never stopped you. People have used metal as a material for sex toys for centuries," Vash said. And yeah, Vash would likely know the whole history of it, could probably give him a lecture on just who had shoved what up their ass and when.

 

"Maybe they have, but I'm not! Besides, it's too big."

 

"It's not as wide as me."

 

"It's too damn long!"

 

"So I won't put it all the way in."

 

"It's unhygienic!" Wolfwood was sure he'd got him this time. "We cook with that thing!"

 

"Not with the handle." Only Vash could try and make something like this sound in any way reasonable. "And we can stick the handle in the stove to sterilise it before we use it again."

 

Wolfwood was getting the uncomfortable feeling he might actually be losing the argument on practical grounds, and while he still couldn't figure out how that was possible, it was definitely time for an alternative assault. "Why the hell would you want to do something like that anyway?"

 

"I thought it might be good to try something different for once." Vash gave him a grin that was entirely too big and enthusiastic for this kind of conversation. "And it'll be better for you - I can make it last longer, because a sex toy doesn't have to keep from coming."

 

So Vash thought the sex wasn't good enough? That he wasn't getting enough out of it? Shit. Why the hell did he have to pick today of all fucking days to start this crap? "You ever hear me object to getting off quick?"

 

"Well, no, but...."

 

"No. Right. So fuck it, and fuck me. C'mon, Tongari, stop pissing around."

 

To his relief, Vash finally put the damn thing down, where it glowed wickedly in the sand, reddish sheen from the dying suns.

 

Spontaneous need to give blow jobs, and now saucepans - Vash today was officially too fucking weird. Wolfwood considered himself lucky he was still hard after a conversation like that.

 

Vash's fingers were back, stroking round the entrance to his body, more lube and soft, easy penetration as Wolfwood dropped back down onto his elbows. Yeah, he'd tensed up some with the argument, might not have taken Vash right off, and Vash was a more than good enough lover to know it. Wolfwood let his head fall, his eyes close, as Vash worked him, steady and sure, his muscles relaxing willingly at the pressure, at the promise of pleasure. Just this, just the stretch, fingers circling the rim inside him in encouragement, this turned him on so hard and it was gonna get better.

 

"Have you thought about it? Really?" asked Vash.

 

Vash talked way too much during sex, but Wolfwood adapted fast to anything that involved feeling this good, and he responded unthinkingly as he always did now. "Thought about what?"

 

"The dildo thing."

 

Fuck. That woke his brain up all right. It was tempting to kick Vash half way across this goddamn desert, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted either. "It's not a dildo, Tongari, it's a saucepan."

 

Vash didn't answer, just breathed out a 'hmph' type noise.

 

Wolfwood gritted his teeth. "What the hell does that mean?"

 

"What?"

 

Wolfwood wondered how that over-innocent tone of Vash's ever fooled anybody. "Don't act stupid. You've got something to say, so say it."

 

Vash circled his thumb slow over the skin behind Wolfwood's balls, a slick, shivering touch that spiked straight to his cock and flooded his brain. "I was just thinking, that's all."

 

Wolfwood didn't answer. He wasn't gonna play along with Vash's games, and he didn't actually care whether Vash carried on talking or not, as long as he carried on with his fingers, sliding smooth inside him, pressing down and sweeping over his nerves, damn.... His mouth opened wider, his lungs reaching for more air to feed the heat flowing all through his body, he just needed....

 

He was almost shuddering when Vash finally spoke again. "I always thought you were someone who'd be open-minded about sex."

 

Annoyance wasn't too compatible with orgasm, his muscles tensing up, and not in the good way that happened when he came. Everything Vash was doing still felt great, the stroke and glide along his cock, the curl of the fingers inside, but he just wasn't there any more.

 

How many more times tonight was he gonna get close and then get dragged back?

 

"I'm open-minded about sex, Tongari, just not about cookware." Nobody spent a year hanging round bars with the Hornfreak without picking up a few people and a few ideas along the way.

 

"Does it matter what it is if it feels good?" Vash's voice was suddenly low and sensual. "If it gives you what you want?" Wolfwood jumped and hitched in a breath, sharp, fast, as Vash's fingers twisted inside him. "Like that, but more." Vash's hand was pressing at his ass, reaching in, a little more stretch of his muscles and winding a little tighter along his nerves. "Deeper, better." The last words spoken almost into his hair, Vash stretched out all along him, the slide of his leather-smooth thigh up alongside Wolfwood's, and Wolfwood's cock jerked in Vash's grip.

 

There was no way that bastard would miss any of it, and Vash's smug grin was creeping back right on cue. Wolfwood could feel it in the way his lips curved against his skin. "You're interested, admit it."

 

Because he had Vash's body pressed up along his side, and the warmth of his breath at his ear as he spoke. "Because you're a fucking tease!"

 

"I can stop teasing any time you say," Vash said, and the familiar damp heat of his tongue stroked along Wolfwood's neck.

 

He wanted something that was damn sure, the natural inclination of his body to push back, to seek penetration beyond the fingers, and Vash would have felt that movement too.

 

"Fine. Let's do it." The hand at his cock suddenly stilled, Vash's weight drawing away from him slightly. Wolfwood twisted round to look back over his shoulder, satisfaction at the obvious surprise on Vash's face. The bastard had never really thought he'd agree, just planned to keep winding him with it for Christ knew how long. Much better to call him on it - it wouldn't be the first time he'd tried cock substitutes, though mostly they'd been manufacturer-approved ones. "What're you waiting for, Tongari?"

 

Vash's eyes were back to normal size as he smiled, muted compared to the earlier grins and far more genuine. "Okay. Just... I'll get more lube." He reached for the tube again, and Wolfwood looked away.

 

He'd do this, but he wasn't going to watch.

 

He closed his eyes, concentrating on Vash's touch, the cool of the lube, the stretch and rub of his fingers, deliberate now and not playful. None of the jolts of pleasure, so frustrating when they didn't go anywhere, just a steady anticipation of something more.

 

Something slid into him alongside a finger, something rigid and chill and distinctly not cock-shaped, and he froze instinctively.

 

Vash spoke again, completely altered, the low, soft voice he didn't often use, that talked of home and peace and guns. "If I didn't know it was safe, I wouldn't risk it, Wolfwood."

 

He'd never questioned that. It was true, he knew it was true, and his body was already relaxing, as much from the voice as from the words, Vash and sex a combination that was trusted and wanted.

 

He took a long, slow breath, consciously un-tensing and allowing it, the first movement inside him slow and gentle.

 

He would just imagine it was Vash.

 

It should have been easy enough, with Vash's hand on his cock, distinctive feel of impossibly fine leather, Vash's red coat-tails beneath him, wind-fluttered and drifting over his jacket, Vash inside him, fucking him, yeah.....

 

It was different. Not even the feel so much - lube was always cold, and Vash when he fucked him felt as hard as anything else - but the rhythm was different. A little disjointed, a little probing, instead of the steady, confident push of a man's hips. Vash always fucked him keenly, starting slow but working him up fast, and there was no build here, more care and caution, the angle wavering at every stroke, not so knowing without the feedback of nerves to guide.

 

It was different, but not bad. The stretch inside, heated, familiar, tuned his body into sex and wanting, the brush over his prostate inconstant, every third or fourth time, almost a tease, provoking the inevitable desire for more. The hand on his cock was giving it to him right, stroking, sliding, but....

 

It could be good. He knew it could be good, he could feel there was pleasure here if he'd just take it, but there was still some part of his brain wouldn't let go of the fact he had a skillet handle up his butt.

 

He'd given it a shot; Vash couldn't say he hadn't tried his crazy fucked-up idea.

 

"It's no good, Tongari," he announced. "Not gonna happen."

 

Vash peered round at him, words coming out in an unsettled rush. "Should I do something different? If you tell me how to make it work, I can -"

 

"It's a saucepan, Tongari. Not. Sexy. That's the problem."

 

"Okay, I'll...." Slight twist and a slide inside his ass, and then it was gone. And while it was a definite mental relief to part of him, he was still kind of desperate to get off.

 

He turned to look at Vash over his shoulder. "Are you gonna fuck me now?"

 

The hand around his cock tightened and ran the full length of him, fast, again, feeling like all his nerves were being dragged along with it. "I can just jerk you off. You sound close."

 

"Better if you fuck me too." Wolfwood deliberately slowed his breathing, held his hips taught against the urge to just push down, into that grip, into his release. "I can wait long enough for you to get your cock out."

 

Vash shifted a little behind him, but both hands stayed on Wolfwood, not reaching for his fly. "You know, if being fucked makes you feel good, there are other things worth trying." He felt fingers slick at his ass again, the deliberate suggestiveness in Vash's voice making him twist his head to meet suddenly very bright and enthusiastic eyes. "You ever thought about fisting?"

 

His temper had been pushed pretty fucking far several times over already, and he was getting seriously fucking sick of it. "What the hell's with you today, Tongari? For Christ's sake, just fuck me!"

 

Vash paused, immobile, face seeming to stretch taut before he spoke. "I can't."

 

"What do you mean, you can't?"

 

"I mean I can't!"

 

Wolfwood paused, considering the implications of that one. Hands and knees with his bare ass in the air no longer seemed quite appropriate to the conversation, and he swivelled himself around to face Vash, sitting carefully back onto his jacket. Whatever the hell was going on here, lube and sand were a mix to be avoided. "You can't get it up?" he asked carefully.

 

Vash settled his weight further back over his ankles, eyes flickering from spot to spot, none of them Wolfwood's face. "Not right now. I mean, it's not like it's a problem or anything, just not right now."

 

Fuck. He really hadn't wanted Vash to give him that answer.

 

Wolfwood felt his own erection starting to wilt at the very thought of it. Maybe it was a sympathy vote. It was definitely the fast way to kill a mood. "How the hell can it not be a problem?" he demanded.

 

"It's temporary! I'll be fine in a couple of days."

 

"You had... difficulties before?"

 

"No! And don't say 'difficulties' like it's a big deal!"

 

"If it never happened before, how d'you know it's gonna fix itself?"

 

"Hey, it's not physical! It's just a bit... sore."

 

Wolfwood's mind stopped dead, the muscles of his jaw locking tight around the word. "Sore?"

 

"No, not like that sore!" Vash looked convincingly horrified at the implication. "It's just that fight last night."

 

"They shot your dick?!" That was it, the last of his erection gone for good, dead. Extinct, probably. His cock and balls wanted to crawl right back into his body where it was safe.

 

"Not really. Not exactly."

 

"Jesus, Tongari, just give it up - what the hell is it?"

 

"I caught a bullet, the inside of my thigh." It seemed like he was going to stop there, so Wolfwood threw him a glare to get the rest of it. "Kinda high up," Vash added.

 

Diplomatically put, but Wolfwood got the idea more than well enough to make him wince. "That's what you get for leaping about in the air the way you do." Wolfwood ran a hand through his hair, shoving it out of his eyes. "You need me to take a look?"

 

"It's fine," Vash said, real fast. "Just a scratch."

 

"If it was a scratch, you'd have been yelling about it since last night," Wolfwood shot back.

 

Vash's face twisted at the call. "It's healing already, it's okay. But when I start getting hard, it pulls on the wound a bit. And then I stop being hard."

 

And that meant - the tension was instant all through him, muscles tightening, a pressure right along his jaw as his teeth bit together. "You were in pain. Getting me off. Just now, and sucking me before."

 

Vash's head tipped forward slightly as his hand rubbed around the back of his neck. "Well, no. Not really."

 

Wolfwood felt his eyes narrow further. "So blowing me doesn't turn you on?"

 

"No! I mean, it does! But I wouldn't call it pain, just... a twinge. Occasionally."

 

"You were in pain! So why the fuck did you do it?"

 

Vash shrugged, quick and casual. "I wanted to."

 

"You wanted to make yourself hurt so damn much you couldn't stay hard?" Wolfwood would have been up on his feet if he didn't still have his pants wrapped all round his knees, his fury lashing out instead in the sharp speed of his words. "Don't you come the fucking martyr with me, you bastard! You pull that shit with other people if you gotta, but not with me!"

 

Vash stared at him, immobile, startled. "It wasn't like that. It didn't make any difference."

 

"What the fuck d'you mean by that?"

 

"I mean I was getting hard anyway!" Now there was movement from Vash, frustration obvious in the twist of his face as he finished more quietly, "You looking like that, looking at me like that."

 

And that was... somewhere between a shock and a good thing. Enough of something honest to take the edge off the anger. "You thought sucking me off would stop me looking."

 

"I thought sucking you off would be more fun than sitting there feeling pissed about it." Vash's smile was quick, rueful.

 

"You could have just asked me not to look, you know."

 

"Would it be that easy to stop?"

 

Wolfwood was already seeing the flash of Vash's teeth between his lips, the slope of his throat with long shadows cast across from his jaw, watching for the quick, sly rush of tongue as he spoke. "Probably not," he admitted.

 

Vash said nothing, none of the flip remarks he'd laid himself wide open to, just watched him with those see-too-much eyes. Yeah, they were both horny guys and they found each other hot. It wasn't exactly news that they wanted to fuck pretty much every chance they got. So it was odd that both of them saying it somehow ended in this silence where they stared, and then shook themselves and tried not to look like they stared. And it was all Vash's fault for starting this weird saucepan sex toy shit.

 

Hell, it was Vash's fault for getting himself shot.

 

"You never do things the easy way, do you, Tongari?" he grinned.

 

"Um, you know, you're not exactly the first person to say that." Vash was smiling back at him and looking suitably guilty, but there was something else there too, something murky twisted behind it. Wolfwood wondered what part of Vash's past he'd unknowingly kicked up this time, and added the phrase to his lengthening mental list of things not to say, along with jokes about axes and anything involving the fun of growing up with other kids.

 

At least he didn't have anything like a hard-on any more. He could easily skip the sex tonight at this stage.

 

He still had a lubed-up ass and his pants round his knees though.

 

"Hey, Tongari."

 

Vash's eyes on his fast, thoughtful. "Yeah?"

 

"Dig through all that junk of yours and get me something to clean up with."

 

Vash snorted and coughed, a noise suspiciously like swallowing a laugh, but he had the sense to keep it down to an inoffensive smile. Wolfwood was gonna deck him if he took the cheap shots now, after all of Vash's crap he'd put up with tonight.

 

Vash bounced to his feet fast enough and grabbed a couple of Kleen-ezes from his bag, handing them to Wolfwood. Wolfwood handed one right back. "You deal with the saucepan," he said.

 

Vash's eyes started to wrinkle at the corners, his eyebrows pulling in as his mouth opened, but Wolfwood gave him a look that said that would be a seriously bad idea. Vash segued smoothly into an amenable face and a casual "Sure," grabbing the pan by the bowl.

 

Wolfwood wiped himself off and pulled his clothes back on properly, feeling a lot better not to be sitting there leaking lube any more. He checked out his jacket without much hope - yeah, there were drips there too. Not surprising given the way it had been sliding down his thighs. He folded the paper over and cleaned everything up as best he could. Hell, everything he owned would need washing when they reached Areia tomorrow anyway.

 

He buried the Kleen-eze in the sand a little way off from their shelter. The first sun was gone now, the remains of the second staining the whole desert weakly red. The horizon was finally cooperating, obediently still and level as he checked the land for signs of movement. Nothing.

 

The wind had picked up with the falling temperatures, and he shivered as it caught at his sweat through his shirt. More than enough encouragement to get back to the protection of the rock before it got real cold.

 

He snagged a couple of meal bars from the bike, tossed one to Vash as he sat down. No one would say they were exciting, but they did fill you up, and they were easy to travel with, leaving more space for water.

 

They also didn't need any kind of cooking.

 

Vash had lapsed into quiet again, the false Vash apparently sloughed aside for the evening. Maybe it was the gunshot wound, maybe it was because he hadn't anything to hide right this minute. Wolfwood always found himself watching this real Vash, even when there was nothing to see, like now, just a man sitting and eating as the world darkened around him.

 

Nothing to see but Vash, who sparked his interest in too many ways.

 

This assignment would likely be easier if he'd never hit on Vash that first time. He wouldn't have if he'd known back then even half of what was coming, but it was hard to regret it now when Vash turned to him with naked lust and a skilled body.

 

He'd thought about it, about cutting it off, knowing there were plenty of reasons he could give and Vash would just accept. But he'd never done it.

 

He didn't really want to.

 

He liked sex with Vash, and he liked the game, the challenge of keeping his secrets while Vash watched and calculated. He liked the fact that Vash puzzled over him almost as much as he picked at the mysteries buried in Vash.

 

He'd had a few years of taking the bad shit without ever getting anything good out of it, and he was done with that.

 

But after today's dose of majorly weird-ass Vash, there were other things he was done with too.

 

He didn't know how long he was going to be hanging around Vash. He didn't know where he was headed with this, the simple plans made over the last two years already changing and reforming in his head, ever-shifting patterns faced with the enigma and the incredible potential that was Vash. But since he was sticking with the hell-bound steamship of Vash's life for now, he wanted a couple things straight before he found himself in serious shit.

 

He fixed his eyes direct on Vash's, waited the single moment it took for Vash to feel it and meet him, level and questioning, before he spoke. "Next time you get shot, you tell me."

 

"Okay." Vash's answer was immediate, unhesitating.

 

I don't care if it's just a graze, I don't care if they shot you in the ass, I wanna know."

 

"Yeah."

 

Wolfwood's eyes narrowed on Vash in slight suspicion. This was coming way too easy. It wasn't like he was asking anything unreasonable - his ability to back Vash depended on his knowing Vash's moves and his limitations - but reasonable didn't hold too good of a track record with Vash.

 

The last one was really gonna stretch it, though, even with Vash being so surprisingly agreeable. "If I need to know something, I need to know, and you tell me. None of your half-truth bullshit."

 

Vash watched him, considering, long moments of reaching desert silence. "I decide what you need to know."

 

Wolfwood hadn't expected any different. "Right."

 

"And I get the same from you."

 

Vash's eyes on him steady, not staring, not uncomfortable, but knowing enough of Wolfwood that a lie here wasn't gonna cut it.

 

He wasn't agreeing to tell it all. As long as he got the call on what to start saying, this was gonna play out just fine. It would take a lot to put Vash's gun barrel between his eyebrows, but the whole truth and nothing but might just be the thing to do it.

 

The idea of him sitting in the desert one night and deciding to spill his guts about everything was just too fucking funny.

 

Of course, there was a lot Vash wasn't gonna tell him either, but he was sharp enough to figure most of it out.

 

He shrugged. "That's fair," he said, wriggling slightly, settling his ass deeper into the sand.

 

"Okay," said Vash.

 

And that was it, oddly easy. And oddly reassuring too, knowing he wouldn't have to examine and twist every word Vash gave him, looking for the hidden implications beneath it. All he had to work at reading now was his actions.

 

That was still one hell of a task.

 

And dammit, he was staring at Vash again already, awareness of the man's slight shifting movement, his breathing, the changing tensions in his muscles. Vash just being there seeped through his brain and his body, and yeah, Vash's eyes were fixed on him right back.

 

Wolfwood looked away, reaching into his pocket for his smokes. "I could go sleep the other side of the rock."

 

He could feel Vash's eyes, knew they were following his fingers inside his jacket. "No good. I'd just be bored, and I do have an imagination."

 

Now, that was something interesting to store away for next time. Wolfwood found himself meeting Vash's eyes again as he touched flame to his cigarette. "I'd ask what you fantasize 'bout me, but it might involve saucepan handles. Or something." There were things he could have added that were a whole lot worse than saucepans - he shuddered at the idea of thomas harnesses - but as of today he wasn't gonna risk giving Vash any freaky ideas.

 

Vash grinned back at him from beyond the curling smoke. "Nah, I'd just be thinking about you jerking off the other side of the rock."

 

Wolfwood blinked. That was exactly what he would have been doing, yeah.

 

Vash's grin widened, bright rows of teeth exposed in the moonlight. "I figure if I'm gonna suffer, then you should get to lie awake with me."

 

"I'm not the one stupid enough to get shot," Wolfwood pointed out. "An' who says I can't jerk off right here?"

 

"Nobody," said Vash, sweetly innocent tone and wide eyes. "You do what you like."

 

Oh, yeah, Vash was far too smart to make it a challenge. And goddamit, he wouldn't jerk off unless he was pushed into it, couldn't lie there and enjoy it knowing Vash was listening and getting turned on and hurting. But Vash knew that, was deliberately playing on it, and that meant he should say fuck it and do it anyway, but....

 

Jesus, Vash made his head hurt.

 

He scrambled to his feet, untied his bedroll from the back of the bike and spread it over the sand. Dropped down onto it and lay back, watching the smoke haze out the stars as he exhaled. Vash was rustling around over to his left, sorting out his own sleeping arrangements.

 

The smoke scattered and vanished, the stars resuming normal shapes and patterns. "Tongari?"

 

"Un?" More of a questioning noise than a word over the familiar swishings and scratchings.

 

"You get any more funny ideas about sex, I'm telling you now I don't wanna know."

 

Sudden halt to the sounds, Vash's voice teasing. "You sure? You don't know what you're turning down."

 

"And that's how it's gonna stay," Wolfwood said, resolute.

 

"Mmmmm," said Vash, or it might just have been 'Hmmmm'. It wasn't an answer either way, and Wolfwood figured he'd better stay suspicious on that front and not trust the bastard as far as next Tuesday.

 

"Oh, and Tongari?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

Wolfwood turned his head this time, fixing Vash with his most unflinching glare. "You're buying a new saucepan."

 

Vash smiled, bright and toothy in the moonlight. "No need," he said cheerily. "The girls will track us down in a few more days once we hit Areia. I'll just swap it for theirs."