When You're Gone, What Do I Have? | By : Boti Category: +S to Z > Trigun Views: 1533 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor do I profit from this fic in any way. |
A/N: Wrote this back in June of 2009. This is my only Vash/Wolfwood fic to-date, because I'm not much of a slash writer (but I would love to write them again one day if I happened upon a good prompt for them or something). Italics are flashbacks.
The alcohol tasted sour and disgusting, but Vash chugged it down anyway. He was trying to find an answer at the bottom of the cheap liquor bottle he had bought in town. An answer or just a means to forget what had transpired in the last several months. He couldn't push the memories away though, no matter how much he drank. Death, blood, screaming, fear... It all was etched into his mind and memories like grotesque tattoos. Feeling disgusted with himself for the thousandth time, he tossed the bottle across the room, watching it smash against the wall and shatter on impact. It reminded him of... Wolfwood's face that one time.
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"Know what I miss?" Vash had asked the preacher one night.
"Your sanity?" Wolfwood suggested with a small grin, taking a puff on his cigarette.
"Flowers. I remember Rem loved them." The blond's voice faltered slightly as he thought of the closet thing to a mother he had ever had.
"Flowers?"
The blond nodded his head and the preacher shrugged his shoulders, taking another puff of his cigarette.
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"I feel trapped here," Vash said out loud to no one. His eyes downcast as he vision blurred. "You left me stranded. Everyone left me stranded."
The blond bit his lip, chin quivering slightly. "You both left me all alone. Rem. Nicholas."
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He had been too late to be of much help to the preacher. It was all over by the time he got there. Though a quick search of a corpse turned up no sign of the preacher, Vash had felt the familiar heavy unease in his stomach that he associated all too well with death. It had nothing to do with the body he had found.
If he knew where to find Wolfwood, Vash surely would have rushed to his side, but in the end, he decided that perhaps it was best like this. At least he would always remember him alive and could selfishly hold on to the idea that he might be still alive. Somewhere.
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He reached for the final bottle of alcohol that he hadn't smashed or finished and poured himself another drink. This one was better then the last, and the blond savored it as his mind relented and slipped back to a more pleasant memory.
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The blond on his hands and knees, begging for Wolfwood to take him. Fuck him like it would be the last time, because with the way things were, everyday could be their last. The preacher touched the ungrafted skin tenderly, sending shivers through the blond. He didn't see the scars and odd patches. Wolfwood place a small kiss on the back of Vash's neck to let him know that. Pressing his penis against Vash's anus, the blond whimpered as Wolfwood pushed in slowly. Sure, he wanted to slam into the older man, but Wolfwood could never be anything but gentle with Vash when it came to sex.
"I hope..." Wolfwood started as he slowly began thrusting in and out of the other man. "...This is what you'll remember about me when I'm gone."
Vash's body strained against the intrusions, his body on fire as he nodded his head and looked over his shoulder to look the preacher in the eye. "I will," he promised and moaned as Wolfwood grabbed his hips and pounded into him. The orgasm built up quickly and soon Vash was whimpering and moaning for the other man.
Later, when they were both spent and tired, they cuddled together and fell asleep. Vash's last thought was of never waking up from this perfect moment.
-End-
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