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Really, it was all Vash’s fault, as most things were.
It had started when they were exploring the ruins of a ship that had been turned into a bandit hideout, picking their way over bits of rubble after having found it long abandoned. The group had left trails and maps behind, so at least they had an idea of where they were going. On the way out, scrambling back up to the surface, Vash had tilted backwards ‘accidentally’ and landed in Wolfwood’s outstretched arms, and he had batted his big eyes up at him like his legs weren't firmly planted on the ground and said something along the lines of you deserve a reward for that, and Wolfwood tried to be irritated about it because he had dropped the Punisher to catch the idiot.
But.
Wolfwood was also a simple man, and they hadn't had sex for two weeks, too consumed with traipsing across the desert and not having found any motels that didn't have nasty sheets.
So it didn't take much convincing to find the nearest table in the ruins and for Wolfwood to rip at the stupid amount of buckles covering Vash’s crotch until he could finally shove his face into his cunt.
“Whoa- eek!” Vash squeaked as Wolfwood immediately curled his tongue and put it to good use. “Bit eager there, huh?”
Wolfwood extricated himself for a short moment to glare at him. “How was I supposed to take ‘fuck me over a table’, Spikey?”
“I dunno,” Vash said, sticking his bottom lip out. It only made him look cuter, damn him. “I thought you might want to…” He illustrated with his fist, jerking it up and down.
Blinking at him, Wolfwood tried to look as unimpressed as possible. “I’m not takin’ my fuckin’ pants off down here.”
Vash squawked, sitting up. “But it's fine for me to?!”
“Yer the one with a smaller gun,” Wolfwood said before lowering his head and dipping his tongue in Vash’s slit. Jesus, he was already soaking .“Leterallee n fiugrrtuvly.”
“Shit- don't talk with your mouth full,” Vash said, letting his head tip back. “Also, rude. I’m a grower, not a shower.”
“Mm-hmm,” Wolfwood said, presently directing his attention towards said dick, slipping his tongue under the hood and hollowing his cheeks out to suck. The vibration had Vash grabbing at his hair like it always did, his other hand gripping the collar of his complicated coat.
“Wolfwood-” Vash breathed out, only remembering their argument halfway through. “Ugh. I absolutely could show you up if I wantedfuck-”
Wolfwood pulled off, because he was a man who needed to win an argument when it was presented to him, and Vash buying a new cock for the strap was cheating. “Fuckin’ me with a bigger dick doesn’t count. You can just go and get one when you want, I gotta keep this one.”
“Get back down there,” Vash said, his voice gravelly and just on the edge of a growl. Wolfwood remained despite feeling himself get very interested.
“Nah, I got a bone to pick. You get to swap out for new and interestin’ dicks. I think I get to call mine bigger when you can be any size.”
“Ugh,” Vash groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows. “It’s a good dick, Wolfwood. I like your dick a lot. Your surgeon did a great job. But you were moaning into me, and I’d really appreciate it if you could get back down there.”
“Well, about that,” Wolfwood said smugly, “I still think you don't have a horse in this race- shaddup- but you've been talkin’ up your dick so much that maybe I want a ride. How about that.”
Vash rolled his eyes. “Oh, so now you’re fine with taking your pants off.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed accusingly at Wolfwood. “You just don't want to lose the rod again.”
“Getting fucked with a soft dick sound like a good time to you?” Wolfwood fired back. “I'm not riskin’ it. Don't- don't look at me like that.”
“I'm just saying-”
“No matter how nice ship three is, I'm not goin’ under the knife again for a hydraulic system. My skin would heal up way too fast.”
“But Wolfwood,” Vash whined, “Wouldn't it be so nice to just press a button and get it up without the rod?”
Lord have mercy. “Did you ignore the part where I said ‘naw, no thanks’, or is your dick getting in the way of your brain again?”
“I just think-”
“No you don't.”
Vash glared at him. It always looked weird on him, the corners of his eyes going a little too hard and the reflections on them getting lost underneath his strong brow. “Maybe,” he began, “I’d like to get fucked outside for once. You never fuck me unless we’re in a bed.”
There were multiple reasons for that. One of which was- “So you want me to get surgery again? Besides, you won't feel it if you get bitten by a critter. I will.” It wasn't the first reason; it didn't even break the top three. But he'd be exposing a bit too much of himself if he admitted to the real ones.
Vash had pulled himself up to sit, unable to gesticulate and throw his hands in the air while leaning back. “That isn't what I meant! I'd just like to get fucked a bit more considering we’re out in the dunes half the time!”
Wolfwood crossed his arms and fully abandoned all thoughts of getting off that night. The Lord was unkind, he liked to win, and Vash had never backed down from anything in his long life. More of their nights had ended similarly than he would like to admit. “And here I thought you liked fuckin’ me. Sure did seem like you were enjoying yourself.”
“I do enjoy myself,” Vash protested. “But you're very- you're very nice when you're in me.”
He had to blink for a moment to process that. “Yeah, I’m gonna be nice to you when I'm inside you, what's your point? You want me to be mean?”
"Maybe, but that's not-” Vash groaned loudly, throwing his head back dramatically before meeting his eyes again. “You fall apart easily," he said, flashing him one of the small, private smiles. It still reached his eyes. "It's very cute."
"Huh." He hadn't been called cute since he was half his current size, all three feet of grumbly care directed towards everyone else smaller than him. Cute was not sexy. Cute was fucking derisive. Cute made a noose tighten around his jugular and reminded him of people that saw a kid with short hair and cooed over how caring he was with the littlest ones, wouldn’t it be nice when he got past his tomboy phase.
Cute made him want to pitch himself over a fucking cliff.
Vash's smile drooped and became slightly panicked in the same motion. It would have been impressive if it wasn't actively pissing Wolfwood off. "Y'know, you always want to be in missionary-"
"That's not true."
"-And you’re really vocal, you're kinda lost in the moment, you're very sweet with it, you keep saying my name-
"Jesus Christ," Wolfwood said, trying not to pay attention to the shame burning him inside-out that wanted him to walk away. "If you don't like me fuckin' you, just say so. Not really goin' for cute."
Vash’s face did the unfortunate thing it often did where he mixed together pity and concern into a potent cocktail that meant he was both incredibly sorry and that he was going to torture himself about this later. “Wolfwood- sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah, sure,” Wolfwood muttered, stepping away from the cage of Vash’s legs. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his jacket, wincing at the stain. It wouldn’t be noticeable unless someone got extremely close, but he would see it, and that was a reminder he didn’t want. “We should get going. Need to get back on the road, see if we can find a place to stay tonight.”
Behind him, Wolfwood could hear Vash’s buckles clinking together as he strapped himself back into his pants. Good. They could get a move on, forget this happened, and in a few days they could get back to normal.
“Hey,” Vash said, grabbing his arm. “I do like it when you fuck me.” Wolfwood turned to him, could see his jaw working as he tried to get his words in the right order. “It’s nice,” he said, a desperate edge to his voice. “If there’s something holding you back, if I’m not-”
Wolfwood sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “‘S nothing to do with you, Spikey.” He didn’t want to talk about this, not now with the taste of Vash still lingering in the back of his mouth and with unwatched exits all around.
Two roads stretched in front of him; the left led to a long week where they barely talked and got separate rooms and refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room. The right was untamed wilderness, one where Wolfwood fessed up to what was eating at him and it led to… something. The left was well-trod and worn, and suddenly Wolfwood felt a great exhaustion wash over him.
Two rooms would be a drain on their finances. He was also fucking tired of waiting a week to talk to Vash again in between their tiffs.
“Just-” he tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, anything to get Vash’s piercing gaze out of the side of his vision. “I know how I get. Can’t trust that I’d be in the right state of mind to grab a gun if someone walked in while I’m on top.”
Vash made an inquiring noise. “You think I would?”
God, he wanted a cigarette. It was too musty down here to light up, though, and he didn’t know if there was anything floating around that would be combustible. “Yeah.”
A flash of red edged into his line of sight, slowly pulling him down from the comforting mottled gray of the ceiling. Vash was staring at him with a soft expression, his eyes wide and wondrous and his mouth curling ever-so-slightly at the edges. It was altogether too trusting, too close to a word that Wolfwood didn’t want to go near.
“You’re staring,” he said.
Vash huffed, stepping in front of him. They didn’t have much of a difference in height, really- Vash was maybe an inch taller on a good day- but the thick soles of his boots gave him enough of a lift that Wolfwood had to crane his neck the tiniest bit to meet his eyes.
“Listen,” Vash said, “I’m sorry about calling you cute-”
“It’s fine.”
“-And,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at Wolfwood’s protest, “If you just want to fuck inside, we can do that. Can get a tent and everything.”
Wolfwood glared at him. A tent would be nice, and it lessened the chances of Zazie seeing them through one of the worms they had flitting around. “I’m keeping a grader near.”
Vash smiled wide. “You do that anyway.”
“‘S for you, dumbass. Case we get caught with our pants down.”
“I have a gun in my arm.”
“You have to activate that one. Faster to flick a safety off than to wait for your arm to unfold.”
“Ugh,” Vash groaned, his grin impossibly growing wider. “We’ll do it your way, then. In tents and inn rooms, with a pistol on hand.”
Wolfwood rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Didn’t need to spell it out. Next you’re gonna ask to spit shake on it.” Something warmed in him, something he wanted pushed down and covered up. Vash was stupidly considerate of others when he wanted to be, and Wolfwood would never admit that it was nice to be caught in his neverending quest to make things better for people. Thankfully, this was something that didn’t require a pound of flesh from him.
“Well,” Vash said.
“No.”
Wolfwood turned before the full strength of Vash’s pout could be turned against him, and busied himself with gathering the Punisher over his shoulder. “C’mon. Think there’s a smaller town ‘bout five iles east. If you want-” he shrugged, letting the weight of the gun settle against his back, “-We can rent a double when we get there.”
It took the entirety of his considerable self-control not to laugh when Vash let out a loud whoop and started rushing out of the dilapidated ruins.
Wolfwood shook his head. “Bit eager there, huh?” he called.
“Sure am!” Vash yelled back. “Hurry up!”
His self control failed, and the thunder of his laughter followed them out to the sands.