TRIGUN: VtS/NW: Two Beds

Title: Two Beds

Author: herm42

Fandom: Trigun

Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood

Rating: Porny and strange

Length: ~ 4,000 wds.

Sum: Wolfwood wants it. Vash is game, sorta.

A/N: For theonebedficathon. A little PWP for you. It's been years since I last saw this series, but I was looking for something different to do. Any apocryphal or just plain stupid flaws are due to the fact that I am not an expert of any kind regarding, anime, Trigun, or even ironing my own clothes.

"You're kidding me right?"

Wolfwood just stands there as still as if he were drawn on paper.

"Where are you going to sleep?"

Wolfwood, very casually, slowly crosses the small room and sits on the edge of the remaining bed. Then he toes off his shoes, letting them gently tap the wooden floor.

Vash growls. "I PAID FOR THE ROOM YOU DO NOT GET TO OCCUPY BOTH BEDS YOU FREAKY PRIEST HOODLAM!"

Wolfwood is unmoved by the outburst except for a breezy lock of hair. He reclines then, crossing his ankles and placing his hands beneath his head as if sunbathing rather than sleeping.

Vash makes a grab for the end of the mattress, meaning to tip him off the bed, perhaps launch him out of the tiny window too. As soon as he is bent over, leverage springing through his legs and curled back and his fingertips are dug into the flimsy pad, he hears two double clicks in succession, and stops. He looks up. Wolfwood has two barrels aimed down Vash's nose. He could easily take off that nose and probably Vash's lips as well at that angle.

Vash glowers. "Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Wherever you want, Clown Boy. Take the other bed."

Vash looks at the other bed a scant foot and a half (too close) to the one Wolfwood is occupying. Punisher lies tucked in under the covers, top on the pillow, two pillows, it's arms overwhelming the skinny mattress and making the bed frame actually appear stressed in the middle. It creaked like a million year-old rusty door when Wolfwood laid it there moments ago.

"Fine," Vash says and ambles cheerily to the other tiny bed.

"Move it and die, Spike."

Vash spins around and lashes his tongue at the stubborn man again. "Well what am I supposed to do then? Sleep on top of it? Under it?"

"It's really not a bad bed partner. I usually sleep with it right next to me, but," and Wolfwood creaks as well and stretches just a little with lazy discomfort, "these beds are so small. Doesn't seem practical."

Vash levels his brow at him and lets his arms dangle like a sloth. He realizes that trying to argue the idea that Punisher should give up its bed for Vash would be a waste of breath.

"Well, I'm beat," Wolfwood says and rolls up and off the bed. He turns his back and shrugs out of his big collared shirt, then the pants, and everything gets hung neatly over the foot board

Vash is in his bed. In the three seconds he was out of it, Vash has cocooned himself in the thin blankets and his face peeks out of a tiny space, smiling maniacally.

"Vash, I will remove your head from your neck."

"But I don't want to sleep with the punisher."

"It is not 'the punisher.' It is Punisher."

Vash remains.

Wolfwood pulls off one sock, then the other, balls them up into his shoes and then climbs into the bed next to Vash and turns out the light.

"Give me some blankets."

"Get your own."

Wolfwood yanks briskly at Vash's cocoon and acquires half or more of the scant covers for himself.

There is a long silence in which neither man moves or speaks. Outside, a rattling carriage can be heard stirring up dust in the road, and through the walls Vash can faintly hear Millie's voice from the room next door. Vash wonders if Nicholas is asleep.

"I'm sweating." Vash says and thinks he hears Wolfwood grumbling internally. He sits up and unbuckles his coat. The buckle makes a little metallic noise, and then clunks rather loudly as he drops the whole coat into a small pile on the floor with his shoes. Vash pulls off his shirt, then slips his pants down under his thighs and kicks the legs off by flapping his feet rapidly until they too land in the heap by the bed.

The light flickers on, and Vash turns to look at Wolfwood who still has his hand on the light. Vash is looking over his own shoulder at him, not looking any place in particular, though not looking him in the eye. Wolfwood isn't looking at Vash's eyes either. More sort of his back. But his eyes don't seem to be tempted to trace his scars. They just look blankly, almost dead. Maybe he is just really tired and that's why he's being a bastard.

Vash looks at Wolfwood's chin, pointy. Points down. Vash won't trace that either. He can see his bare chest, but he's not going to look at it.

"Are you getting up?" Wolfwood asks.

Vash blinks. "No."

"Oh." Wolfwood looks at him expressionless for a moment more, then moves gently, conservatively turning and reaching for the light. Vash slides under the blanket.

He must have been asleep a little over an hour. The last of the summer sunset is long gone and the tiny window glitters with grimy stars. When he wakes it's to that faint starlight and dim candlelight from within the room, not enough light to wake him from a dead sleep. And it wasn't the light that woke him but the touch. Wolfwood is there next to him with that same vacant destitution on his face, his head propped up on an elbow, and with two fingers he is tracing the outline of a burgundy scar on Vash's chest. They're not so much scars as just places where his skin has gone missing and has been replaced with something thinner and temporary, like his body thinks that maybe someday that skin will come home. They feel rather a lot for being scars. He doesn't mind him touching them. It's kind of nice actually. Not many people seem to want to investigate them or Vash too closely. When Vash pokes them himself they feel like he doesn't have any skin at all there. Like he's just poking directly through to his insides. It makes him squirm just thinking about it and he hopes Wolfwood won't think to poke them like that, or to place his finger over a thin spot and move the skin over the muscle like a thin glove prodding an open wound. It doesn't hurt, it just...

Wolfwood's eyes flick up to meet Vash's for a moment, acknowledging that he is awake and aware and not protesting, but then they return to following his fingers, guiding them as they skate the perimeter of the patch across Vash's right pec.

Vash looks down and follows the finger too and discovers that his right nipple is hard and pointing at the ceiling. Funny. He hasn't had any feeling in that nipple in a few years. Nipple seems to be enjoying it even if Vash has no particular opinion.

Wolfwood's middle finger traces the jagged saw-tooth pattern from top to bottom until he can't easily reach it any more.

Vash smiles wide then and turns over on his side too. This accomplishes two things. It brings his flank within easy reach for Nicholas, and brings Nicholas within easy reach of Vash's hands as well. Vash looks at him, hand poised, and then stops. No scars. None to speak of anyway. Maybe if there was more light he'd be able to see a few, but as it appears now, Wolfwood's skin is brown and lightly freckled and relatively unscathed.

But Vash touches him anyway. He knows his own scars well enough he can trace them on someone else. Wolfwood halts as Vash's fingers come to rest on his side. He looks Vash in the eyes but says nothing with them. Vash mirrors his pose on the bed with the exception of his face. He is still grinning. Wolfwood can undoubtedly read the mischief in Vash's eyes even if Vash can read nothing in his. Then Wolfwood's eyes return to his own hand and the fingers keep moving, down his flank around the bottom of the huge scarred mass, then back up and over his pec again. Vash's fingers follow the same path over Nicholas' perfect skin, over the flank and up the chest, tracing the invisible sawtooth line. Wolfwood closes the circuit around the shape, then lifts his finger directly to Vash's shoulder and another place where the flesh is red and raw and angry looking. With a light fingertip, almost light enough to tickle, he draws the shape there, a fat lightning shape, and Vash notices that his eyes flick, just once, to his own shoulder where Vash has followed him, a living mirror. Their arms hang in the air together as if they were dancing on the wall.

Wolfwood stops, his finger poised and bluntly poking the normal skin just on the outside of the scar on Vash's arm. He looks frustrated a moment, and the smile slips from Vash's face. He thinks he may yet get tossed out of the bed.

Instead of tossing him though, Wolfwood anchors himself in the sheets with gripping fists, and pulls the rest of his lax body up, forcing Vash back down to the mattress by proximity. Then he keeps going, turning over Vash slowly, with some sort of dark malice in his eyes. Vash only has an instant to guess at what is happening when Nicholas is an inch from his face and the tension in his eyes is released under sinking lids.

Vash's own eyes pop open and he gasps a little, it sounds girly in his own ears - but never mind that. Vash melts, and he barely gets his limp arms over Wolfwood's back before he loses all conscious control over his body. A hot wet tongue is in his mouth and it tastes like a warm bath feels. Slick lips slide over his own, one down one between, then apart and one up one between, shallow dips into his mouth. Wolfwood's head pivots and it makes Vash's head spin because that was his ground his whole world for a moment there, those lips, and it's moving now. Nicholas pulls up further, slinking his body over Vash's to slide between Vash's legs. Vash hears himself moan as Nicholas very gradually settles his weight there, aligning them side by side between their bellies. He does it again when Nicholas sucks his lower lip, then nibbles, then bites it. Vash finds his strength again and grabs Wolfwood's head and pulls him down hard to delve into his mouth deeply.

Vash has a long tongue. He knows this. He isn't sure, though, that Wolfwood has noticed it before now. One way or another he has been made aware as he makes a funny surprised noise, a flinch from his gut that moves down his spine to rock his hips forward.

Wolfwood sucks Vash's mouth hard and Vash starts to go limp again like he's on some sort of flying ride where the gravity keeps going up and down above and below normal, compressing him down and making him nearly lose consciousness, then sending him floating up and out of bed. Wolfwood pulls back then and Vash grapples to keep hold of him but can't quite do it.

Nicholas's mouth comes away loudly and Vash watches and swallows as Nicholas sucks reddened lips into his mouth, licking with a live wriggling tongue. He looks at Vash for a moment, and Vash realizes that that expression he's been wearing all night, the vacant, defeated, almost angry face, it isn't any of those things really. It seems to be what passes for arousal for Wolfwood. Maybe not just arousal, but rather abject, pent-up, stashed away, hidden, imprisoned and clawing at the walls bodily need. Vash's attention is drawn downward. Wolfwood's cockhead is purple and poking through his shorts.

"Fuck me," Nicholas growls lowly and Vash feels his own eyes widen to unusual proportions, feels his mouth go a little dry, and his brain just sort of clunk to a halt for a moment before whirring back to life like an interrupted movie projector. Pent up lust he understands. Vash has certainly had enough of that. The ladies aren't exactly beating down his door. He'll take what he can get from whomever, but historically that has meant that he's the one getting fucked. Physically and metaphorically.

He'd better check to make sure. "You know, I'm not expert on Christianity, but don't they kinda frown on this sort of thing?"

"Shut up and take your shorts off."

Wolfwood is panting leaning over him. Vash doesn't move. Then Wolfwood looks down at their bodies notched together, his legs between Vash's, and says, "Oh," and moves off.

Vash pulls his shorts off with difficulty. He's shaking like he's been running from death all day. As soon as they're off though, Nicholas is on him and Vash calls out loud, earning him a hand over his mouth while Nicholas dives onto his cock. So slick and burning hot, rippling ridges like tidal waves, Vash tries not to make any noise, but just seeing his cock disappear into Wolfwood's mouth makes him groan loudly under his hand. The hand in question smushes Vash's face a little more in response.

He's fast, and brutal. That mouth had been so soft and even gentle when it kissed, Vash is a little overwhelmed by the ferocity of it's work on his cock. Then again, maybe he's getting what he deserves, what he asked for when he shoved his tongue down Wolfwood's throat. He's pretty sure someone has called him impulsive once or twice. He tries to just enjoy it, and fights off the urge to get what he wants by grabbing his head and bucking until he comes. That would be great, he thinks, and the fantasy makes his cock twitch dangerously against Wolfwood's teeth.

Nicholas pulls up and wipes his mouth with the heel of his hand before Vash can really get a look at and appreciate the smear of saliva on swollen lips.

"Fuck me," Nicholas says again.

Stupidly, Vash is talking again instead of just doing as the man says. "Did you plan this?"

"What?"

"This. You know. This." Vash gestures with his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh. Umm..." It's hard to think with a sex addled brain, but Vash does really want to know how this happened. Sometimes such details are important. Like in the morning when they leave and have to act normal around each other.

"Vash."

"What?"

"Later. Now, you need to fuck me before I go insane."

Vash just stares at him a second. Nicholas has his fists clenched and braced on his legs and Vash's cock twitches. "Ok," he says quickly.

Wolfwood rolls over and takes his shorts down. Vash, slightly numb and dizzy, climbs on top of him as he lays down on the mattress in the warm spot Vash had left. He's there between his legs and his cock just sort of knows where to go and points there. Wolfwood fidgets and shrugs into the pillow, concentrating heavily on Vash above him and taking his thighs in his hands. Vash has never seen him looking so exposed. Well, obviously, but he never expected to see him this way either. Not in a million years.

Vash strokes his own cock. Then makes a move toward Nicholas, then hesitates, changes his mind, does it again, stops, then strokes his cock again. Then Vash brings his hand to his mouth, first licking his fingers, then putting them in his mouth and trying to slick them up. It's hard when your mouth is dry though.

Vash puts the tips of his fingers down, but they feel cold already, evaporating, and he puts them back in his mouth.

"Vash."

"Yeah."

"Hurry."

"I am."

"Just do it."

He means fuck him. He's still a little shaky but he's not sure why. He scoots up closer, a little closer, so his bent and spread knees are under Wolfwood's thighs. He presses the head of his cock there, rubs a little. He watches as Wolfwood's eyes slip shut as he cranes his neck back over the pillow once, a stretch. They they flutter back open to look at Vash. With that intent stare on him Vash stops again, falters, then starts to move his shoulders around in circles. One up and over, then down, then the other. He licks his lips a few times and watches Wolfwood nervously.

Nicholas scowls "Vash, what are you doing."

Vash stops and feels cornered. "Just. Trying to be sexy."

Wolfwood blinks. "Vash. You don't need to be sexy."

"Oh."

"What is it? What is it you want? Tell me, we'll settle it whatever it is, then we can continue, hm?"

"Um. I've just. I've never actually done this before."

Wolfwood sits up on his elbows and glares through his eyebrows at Vash. "What are you saying to me Vash? That you're a virgin?"

"Don't be a meat head. Of course not. I've just never....done this part."

"It's not complicated, Vash. Just in and out like in the movies."

Vash is feeling a little woozy and he probably looks it too.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Jesus Wolfwood I thought you'd know that by now. I don't like hurting people," Vash says dejectedly and looks away.

He glances back as Nicholas smirks and looks down. Then he machine gun laughs. "You're not going to hurt me Vash," he says chuckling.

Vash scowls fiercely at him and crosses his arms in front of his bare chest as if that would in some way protect him with his knees spread as they were.

Wolfwood sighs. "Listen," he says and reaches up to take a big fistful of Vash's mussed hair. "It's not that complicated, Vash. You don't have to be sexy, nobody is going to get hurt, and even you, with your unparalleled good fortune and uncanny grace can possibly screw this up."

"It doesn't hurt you?"

"If it hurts, you're doing it wrong."

"That's what I'm saying! I don't know how! I've never done it!"

Wolfwood replies calmly. "If it hurts me, I'm doing it wrong."

Vash blinks. "Oh," he says again.

"And later if you want, I'll show you how to do it right." He pulls Vash down by his hair so they are nose to nose. He smiles wickedly but genuinely for the first time that night and takes a taste of Vash's lips. Vash gets drowsy-eyed and supple and leans in closer. "Now stop fucking around, spit on it, and fuck me."

Vash groans a little and finds his mouth isn't dry anymore. He wraps a handful of wetness around his own cock, and Wolfwood, still gripping him by the mane pulls him down, down further still into an unnatural bent position until Vash is forced to just lay on him. To his surprise it all becomes much easier that way. He props himself up on his arms and he feels Nicholas's fingers on his cock. Then his body just accepts him and Nicholas groans near his ear.

Nicholas is made of the silkiest heat inside and Vash melts on him again, digging his hands under his shoulders and pressing closer, burying his face in his neck and smelling salt and smoke. Nicholas wraps his legs around Vash and as amazing as that feels, being trapped like that against him, Vash wants to move, and he wants it now.

They begin a struggle then. They each have their own ideas about how they should be moving, how fast, and where, and where the wavelengths of those rhythms mesh they pant and their bodies slap together and the bed frame bounces against the wall, and where they clash, their skin stutters, their muscles twist at each other, sweat breaks out on their backs and the bed creaks noisily. Wolfwood's cock weeps between them and Vash tries to rub against it as he thrusts forward. He can feel the smear on his chest. It's so good inside of him though, there isn't much room for thought to anything else. Wolfwood keeps grunting in his ear every time he drives in like he is pushing the air right out of him. Vash smiles a little at the thought of it, going so deep inside him that he can't breathe. He's having a little trouble himself. Taking great lungfuls at a time from the humid air around them.

Wolfwood pushes him up a bit then and takes a bite out of his mouth. Vash eagerly returns it, sucking and licking at him and nipping at his lips. They're softer than he ever would have imagined, just like Nicholas seems to be everywhere.

Nicholas kisses him once more then breathes fast against his mouth. "Come on," he whispers.

Vash understands, and pushes back up on his tired arms, rotating his hips back and his knees forward. Then Wolfwood leans back, arches, and Vash is pounding at him. Nicholas can't even make a sound or breathe between thrusts because he's going too fast. His mouth is open wide and his arm across his face hides what Vash knows are tightly furrowed brows and clamped eyelids. The bed makes more noise than both of them. Vash wonders in the back of his mind if Millie and Meryl can hear them. Probably.

It feels like running up a slide almost. Running as fast and hard as he can up a slick metal slope. He makes progress with each stride but he slides back almost as far as he moves forward every time. He will make it to the top eventually, he can tell, but the way there is so steep. So close. Wolfwood starts gasping and pulling quickly at his own cock.

A green-eyed black cat surprises Vash as it hops up on the bed next to them. He eyes it suspiciously but he doesn't stop, he doesn't dare. He just keeps sucking in air and expelling the energy into his tired hips and back and arms, trying to nail Wolfwood to the bed.

He takes little notice of the cat after it finds a good seat there next to them where it can see all the action. He is content to ignore it, until it wiggles, then leaps to perch on Vash's bare back, digging sixteen claws into his skin when it immediately lost its balance under his thrashing form. Vash yells out loud and bucks. The cat scrambles and dashes away into the darkness causing the candle on the nightstand to flicker out. And in the solid darkness as Vash whimpers and Wolfwood pants, startled, the bed creaks and groans without anyone moving on it at all. Then a long crack like slow lightning, and Vash digs his fingers into Wolfwood's arms and squeezes his eyes shut.

They fall through two floors. The floor of their own room as the mattress box breaks off the flimsy frame and shatters the dry-rotted and bowed floorboards, through a table in the bar below, then through the floor below that before they drop, screaming, into the root cellar in a massive cloud of dust and splinters.

The two naked men cling to each other for a moment, realizing through peeking eyes, that not only are they still alive, but they are still naked, still alone, for the moment, still joined at the genitals, and still extremely horny. Vash looks at Nicholas for one wide eyed moment and Nick back at him. Then he pumps at him brutishly, hard and fast as he can. He grits his teeth and shakes the dust from his hair. Soclosesoclosesoclosesoclose. Wolfwood pants and the sound of his hand working his cock, slapping and ragged friction, puts Vash up that last step to the top of that playground slide, and he stands triumphantly at the pinnacle for one moment, listening to Wolfwood roar, feeling his come splatter against his chest before sliding down that slippery slope himself and convulsing like a puppet on top of his friend.

Wolfwood coughs a little dust from his lungs and runs a hand up Vash's back. Vash is dizzy in bliss, but he thinks he can hear Millie's high pitched voice approaching. He hopes they'll just go back to bed, but he doubts that considering they just put a ten foot hole through the middle of a hotel. Certainly not the most destruction they've seen in an evening, but still.

The cat appears from nowhere and this time Vash shoves it off the bed. Or what's left of the bed. Vash sits up and looks down at Wolfwood, dirty, filthy, covered in dust and come, and smiling with sleepy eyes.

Vash hears footsteps, many sets, clomping down the stairs, more creaking wood. He hopes the stairs don't collapse too. Then he notices as Wolfwood looks up through the hole that they made and his smile slips from his face, his eyes go painful. Vash hears more splintering wood coming from above but he can not see from where he is.

Nicholas swallows and whispers, "Oh shit. What are you doing out of bed?"

Finis.