Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Substance Abuse (Or: Vash, the Evil Uber-Seme Meets Wolfwood, the Weeping Child). ❯ Substance Abuse ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Substance Abuse (Or: Vash, the Evil Uber-Seme Meets Wolfwood, the Weeping Child).

Series: Trigun

Category: yaoi, angst, abuse

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Vash/Wolfwood, and a hint of something else…

Warnings: warnings for graphic yaoi lemon, and non-consensual sex…

Spoilers: rough series spoilers, direct references to the episode "Diablo"

Disclaimer: *looks around* Nope. Not mine…

Author's Notes: This is based on a doushinji, and a conversation I had with my best friend regarding it. (Well, actually, we were talking about Yu-Gi-Oh! doushinji, but… oh, see for yourself…

Manda (01:21 AM) :

And EvilYami Says: BWAHAHAHAR!! to poor, frightened Malik...

Manda (01:21 AM) :

*shakes head* Doushinji makes no sense... Yami would never do that. Why bastardize such characters?

Jennifer (01:22 AM) :

I dunno...which one are you looking at?

Manda (01:22 AM) :

http://groups.msn.com/YugiohYamiBakurasBattleCity20/yaoiandlove .msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=697

Jennifer (01:23 AM) :

yes indeed...

crap....

Manda (01:24 AM) :

It's like those two Trigun ones I have. Okay, maybe Midvalley would have sex with Legato, when Legato was like, *squirm* nooo.... But there's another one that is obviously Vash raping Wolfwood, which is so wrong, I can't even begin...

Jennifer (01:24 AM) :

so after one quick fuck, i shall send you to the shadow realm!!

Jennifer (01:24 AM) :

yes, that is quite wrong!!

Jennifer (01:25 AM) :

vash raping Wolfwood...wrong..wrong...

now if it were Knives...because he could rape anyone

Manda (01:25 AM) :

*laughs*

Manda (01:26 AM) :

Yeah, but it's Vash, and he's like "GRRRR!!!" and Wolfwood is like "Eeek!" And then there is lots of pushing away from his part, as Vash savagely shoves his legs apart and roughly prepares him...

Manda (01:26 AM) :

Knives does rape everybody...

Manda (01:27 AM) :

But mainly just Legato, but it's okay, because he likes it ;-)

Anyway, I started thinking about how that could ever actually happen, and this was what I came up with…

Please note that this story is really, really crappy… There's OCC and to accept the plot, you kind of just have to… Go along with it. It's really weird and a bit jumpy…

The best part is the ending, and that's only so-so as far as these things go… *sigh* Oh, well… Go on, then… Read it, at your own risk, and only if you must.

"In each of us, two natures are at war - the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them, and one of them must conquer. But in our own hands lies the power to choose - what we want most to be we are."

- Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

~~~

It was hot.

Of course, it wasn't like that was news or anything… Here on planet Gunsmoke, it was always too damn hot… The treacherous planet was covered with perennial desert, with it's searing days and chilly nights.

Only, now it was night.

And it was still too fucking hot.

He found himself captured by a nearby movement, as Wolfwood stripped off his worn black jacket.

"Damn, it's hot!" The other man exclaimed, scrubbing his brow with his wrist. "It's enough to make a preacher swear!" Clever fingers fished in the fallen jacket for a smoke.

"It's always hot enough to make you swear, then." He muttered, sitting up.

The motel room was dark and dirty, making the pristine white of the other man's shirt very noticeable.

"Didn't you know, gunman? I'm always very hot…" He even leered suggestively, as smoke coiled around himself. The devil himself. Or something similar.

Vash rolled his eyes. Not the devil. Only an ass…

"I'm going to take a cool shower…" Vash announced, suddenly, struggling out of his heavy overcoat.

With a wave of his cigarette, the priest granted benediction.

~~~

He leaned his head on the tile, feeling the cool of the chipped enamel as it kissed its strength into his skin. He wondered what the fuck was wrong with him today… It was as if there was something crawling inside his skin, making his fingers flex, and his vision blur.

He remembered well the last time he'd felt like this…

// "You killed all the people!!" //

// "What makes you think you even deserve to live?" //

// "Don't. Touch. Me. And don't follow me. Just stay away…" //

"…no…" He whispered. That could not happen again. He had been to close… So…

"Hey, gunman?" Wolfwood called, gently.

Vash jerked up, grabbing the washrag as the door opened.

"I just--- Hey!" He exclaimed, turning abruptly, when he noticed the lack of a shower curtain. He continued with his hands in the air helplessly, face averted. "I just found an old shirt of mine that I figured was cooler than that rubbery black number of yours…"

"…Oh…" He managed, "Thank you."

Uneasily, Wolfwood shifted from hip to hip, accentuating the tight weave of the cloth of his pants.

Vash stared.

"…so… yeah…" He said, laying a faded grey shirt on the counter as he passed out of the small room.

When the door closed, Vash rest his head against the wall again.

The pressure in his head only increased as the other man left him in peace…

~~~

When he wandered out, he wore the grey shirt, and his own pants. He wondered what Wolfwood was on about; the shirt could not have possibly fit him; it was too large for him, let alone the reedy man! Faintly, he pondered how the priest had come by it.

The aforementioned man of the cloth was surprisingly lacking in it at that particular moment… He lay on his stomach on the bed, smoking a crooked cigarette. Vash's eyebrows found his hairline as he realized the man's pants were folded over the chair he'd been sitting in, along with his jacket. Only his half-buttoned white dress shirt and a pair of white cotton briefs afforded the tanned man any modesty.

"…too damn hot," He muttered, grinding out the last of his cigarette.

Vash settled on the edge of the single bed, and began toweling his hair dry.

"Hope you don't mind…" Wolfwood said, gesturing to his state of undress.

Peeking under his towel, he saw tanned skin and smooth legs, and found he couldn't seem to mind one bit.

"You shave your legs?" He asked, curiously.

Wolfwood rolled over, drawing up to the headboard. "Yeah… It's cooler on the skin… Plus, the ladies I know prefer it over sweaty, scratchy hairs…"

"I see… I thought priests were supposed to be celibate…"

"I never said I wasn't…" Wolfwood's lighthearted reply died when he stiffened, abruptly.

Vash jerked away, realizing his fingers had unconsciously reached out to trace down the other man's calf. "…sorry…"

Turning away, he abandoned the towel, and folded his hands into his lap. "…Do you ever feel like there's someone else inside you?…" Vash mumbled.

"Like how?" Wolfwood asked, crossing his legs up beside him.

Vash slid around to face him, and stared at the bedspread. At those tanned legs, so modest, so proper… He stared at Wolfwood's skin. "Like… there are two of you. There's you, but then there's the one who wants bad things --- wrong things. And he's tempting you, all the time…"

"I think we all have someone like that, gunman…"

"…So how can you make him stop?"

"You can't. But you can appease him."

"How?"

"Sometimes… You just have to give him what he wants."

"…But then, he just wants more…"

"I didn't say it worked forever." He said, turning to look for his matches.

But suddenly, Vash was on him, pushing his legs apart, as he crouched between them, even as his metallic hand closed over his throat. "…suppose he wanted me to kill you?" He whispered, miserably, "Should I appease him then?"

"…I think… if you want… to kill me… I have no choice… but to die." Wolfwood managed.

His grip tightened. "You didn't answer my question."

Wolfwood closed his eyes. "You do what you must to survive…"

The hand left his throat, sliding up to bury in his hair. Flint-coloured eyes snapped open as Vash leaned closer, leering. He looked like the devil himself…

"Gunman, what are you---"

"Shh, Nicholas… Just let me kiss you…"

But Wolfwood turned his head away in denial.

"Please…" Vash whispered, voice husky with want.

"I don't… want you to…" He breathed, face still averted.

Vash wrenched that sharp chin towards his own. "If I want to kiss you, Nicholas, you have no choice but to submit." He bit out harshly, before roughly claiming the other man's lips.

Nicholas tasted smoky, like nicotine and cinnamon. His mouth was warm, warmer even than his skin, which burned beyond this evening's heat.

Vash growled as he was punched roughly in the head. He withdrew, capturing Wolfwood's arm in his metal one, pinning it above his head. "Don't make me break your gun-arm, Nichey…" He whispered, ripping open the other man's shirt.

Nicholas fought as he was yanked down, to lie flat upon the bed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?! I'm a Man, you Son of a Bitch! I'm a Man of God!! So get the fuck off of me, you Judas-Kiss-Sick-Fuck-Son-of-a-Bitch!!"

Vash ended that slew of profanity with a sharp blow to his cheekbone, just before he caught that long throat again. "Shut up! Do you really think I wanted to do it like this?! But you said it yourself, Nicholas, sometimes we have to let him win…"

Black hair fluttered on the pillow as Wolfwood violently shook his head. "But I don't want you at all!"

"For that, I'm sorry. I had at least hoped you would enjoy this…"

"What?! How the fuck do you expect me to enjoy being raped?!" He snarled, struggling again.

Vash applied more pressure, making his vision swim. "Oh, Nichey… You and I both know this was a long time coming…"

Fingers snatched at the elastic of his briefs, and Nicholas closed his eyes. "…Vash… please don't do this…"

"Nichey, please don't fight me…" He whispered, slipping free the thin, white cloth.

Wolfwood bit back a sound, but did not move as Vash levered his legs up, opening him. He did hiss as saliva-damp fingers probed him gently, but firmly. Then, the fingers clawed inside him, forcing apart the folds of flesh, making it ready for something much larger, hotter, and much more unwanted.

He clenched his fingers in the pillow, and bucked his hips up, away from the intruding fingers. Vash chuckled in a dark tone he had never heard before, and roughly shoved his hips back down. He whimpered then, as his body convulsed in pain.

Vash smiled down at him serenely. "This is the hard part… Try not to be too loud…"

Nicholas screamed, a short, low sound of surprised pain, as Vash entered him quickly. The skin of his passage pulled, clinging to the dry, burning skin of his attacker's arousal. Tears leaked free of his tightly clenched eyes as his passage tore.

Blood lubricated them enough for Vash to slid into him fully. He curled on his side in agony, and Vash had to pull his hips into his lap in order to gain leverage.

Wolfwood was whispering something feverishly as Vash thrust into his shaking form. Eventually, he made out the words., "…I hate you, Vash… I… hate you… I hate you…"

Vash ignored him. After all, Nicholas had been silently begging for this since the day they'd met. He was just a stupid human, after all… How very like him to change his mind once he's finally gotten what it was he thought he'd wanted… He thrust harder at the thought, wrenching another cry from his unwilling lover.

Looking down, all he saw was blood…

~~~

Vash sat up with a start, breathing heavily. He looked around the room wildly.

Wolfwood was lying on the narrow bed beside him, sleeping peacefully atop the covers he'd been dreaming under. The priest was curled on his side, with his arms folded under his head. He was fully dressed.

The night was cool…

"…just a dream…" He breathed. Stealing a glance down at the sleeping man, he felt his guilt crashing down onto him.

What had his dream self been thinking?! Of all the times he'd dreamt of the other man, it had never been so dark…

// Legato. // He thought.

{ At your service…} He could almost feel the polite bow.

// Stay the hell out of my dreams! //

{ Ah, but such lovely dreams they are! }

// That was your fantasy, not mine! I would never force someone like that! //

{ No? And surely there was a time when if someone had asked you to shoot your own brother, you might have made similar reply… }

// Damn you, Legato… //

{ Oh, I assure you, hell is for me… But I will see you first… }

He glanced at Wolfwood. // It would never be like that between us!! //

{ No? How can you be so certain? He would balk if you kissed him… He would fight as you touched him… He would scream if you fucked him… I know this, as well as I know my own left hand… }

// What do you mean?! //

{ You and I are not so dissimilar… And young Nicholas is no stranger to my touch… }

// You bastard!! //

But the other man was gone from his mind, taking his gruesomely handsome voice with him.

…So Legato had sent the dream. But why? As a threat? Could he control Vash as he had all those townspeople? Could he make Vash hold his best friend down and… He couldn't do it. Couldn't put a word to what his dream-self had done… It would make it more real, and he didn't think he could handle that; not now, while Nicholas lay there, so quietly, beside him.

Or had it been a warning? Did Legato think Wolfwood would react so uncharitably towards his advances? And that he, himself, would behave so violently in response?

// "You and I are not so dissimilar… And young Nicholas is no stranger to my touch…" //

But that would mean that Legato had---!

He stood abruptly, bare feet hitting the floor too loudly in the quiet room. Glancing back at the sleeping man, he winced slightly. And only then did he notice the damp stain that had spread across his pants… Quickly, he hurried to the bathroom.

He flushed with shame. In his dream, he had thought Wolfwood was pathetic, and beneath him… Like… Knives…

He slammed his prosthetic hand into the mirror, shattering it.

"I am not Knives."

And then, something occurred to him...

In his dream, Nichloas had actually been kind of... Nice. And modest, and nearly... timid? No, that was the worng word. But still, he had been out of character. It was as though Legato were writing a story using him, based only on a few half-formed ideas gleaned form a few still frames and poorly remembered scripts...

So it really wasn't true.
Legato had just been messing with him.
He smiled in relief, but relief looks slightly disturbing when reflected in a thousand fragments of shattered glass...

Still, the plaintive whispers of the dream-Nicholas refused to fade from his mind...

// "...hate you, Vash… I hate you..." //

~~~

He flinched when he heard the glass shatter.

Which was fucking ridiculous, considering. Almost as fucking ridiculous as lying there with his eyes open, breathing steadily to make the other man mistake him for asleep.

He was acting scared, acting fucking scared, of this man, this friend, whom he trusted implacably (if inexplicably) with his rather useless life…

But the dream had been too long, too rich, too real. It had been so fucking real… Jesus, it had been hours in that dream, the whole end of a day!…

// "Do you ever feel like there's someone else inside you?…" //

…Legato.

His fist clenched, involuntarily. They'd even said the same thing…

// "This is the hard part… Try not to be too loud…" //

// "Now here is where it becomes more difficult. Do not try not to be too loud…" //

He sighed deeply. A message? More like a warning; a threat… But from Legato, or Knives, himself?…

It was ridiculous, anyway.

Vash would never hurt him like that.

He couldn't, he wouldn't hold him down and…

He had said it in the dream; named the deed to be done to him; something he could never do awake, not even in his own mind…

Anyway, it wouldn't be like that with Vash.

He cared for Vash --- they were friends…

No… He corrected mentally. The Gunman is friends with Nick Wolfwood… Vash the Stampede and young Chapel the Evergreen have never met…

Ruefully, he rubbed his cheek, where a bruise would have been forming, in his dream.

"…judas-fucking-kiss…" He whispered.

~~~

When the bathroom door finally opened, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep..

He felt Vash stare at him for a moment before the other man crossed back to his side of the bed.

His eyes opened in the darkness as the blanket was folded over and lumped on top of him. Through the rustling of cloth, he felt the fingers that combed gently through his hair. But he told himself he might have imagined Vash's whisper,

"I'm sorry, Nichey…"

He had never needed a cigarette so badly in his entire life.

But he lay there, pretending to sleep.

After all, sometimes it was better just to not give himself what he really wanted.

He didn't think he could take any more in the end.

But they both knew that wouldn't work forever.

Because sometimes… Something's just got to give…

~~~

She comes home to me after a hard night's work
Falls in my arms and sleeps like a bird
Startle, wakes up, like she don't know me
Cocks back her fist like she's going to slug me
Like, who are you anyway
And what are you doing to me?

-Ghost of the Robot, "Angel"

OWARI.

See? I warned you. Sucked, didn't it?

There are some miss-remembered quotes from different episodes in here…

The thing about Wolfwood shaving comes from reading too many fanfics where they refer to the "smooth, tanned/creamy skin" of the protaganist-uke's slender legs. *balk* There are a lot of prods at fanfic cliques here…

The whole "other man inside you" thing just smacks of "Identity". See this movie if you have not!

I enjoy spelling the diminuative of Nicholas "Nichey", rather than "Nickey". I think it makes more sense, than creating a random 'k'… [Suddenly, K, from Gravitation runs in an shoots up a shopping mall] Ehhhh…. See what I mean?

Legato is so FUCKING FUN to write… Damn, he's an asshole, but he is so FANTATICALLY amusing to write… Whee…

Yeah, I know there's a Chapel the Evergreen in the anime (who is a scary, Agent Smith-like man with red glasses/eyes and a funny hat) But in the manga, Wolfwood is refered to as such.

I hate the ending. It seems too… It lacks a concrete ending. *waves paw* Bah!