Chapter Text
"Goddamnit, Blondie, this is the last fucking time! It's only been a week since I found your stupid ass, and I'm already getting shot at!"
Cackling out a nervous titter, Vash scrambles to a halt and frantically backtracks to catch Wolfwood one-handed by the front of the shirt and haul him up to his feet after he tripped in the street. It doesn't help that both their boots are unlaced, and Wolfwood's dusty, dark trousers practically hang off his hips.
Never mind the flapping tails of his pristine white shirt, open for all the world to see the glistening barrel of his glorious chest. Vash would be annoyed about the goods being on display if they weren't running for their lives from a pack of over-eager bandits.
Mournfully, Vash thinks of their nice, nominally comfortable hotel bed and how they'll never get to use it now. Not that there were any plans to sleep anytime soon. Vash also mourns the loss of his things, at least for the time being. If he's sneaky enough, he can retrieve everything once the bandits clear out.
"I know, I'm sorry!" Vash squeak-wheezes, ignoring the painfully hard bulge in his own trousers.
"What the hell you apologizing for, dumbass?" Wolfwood growls as he struggles to manage his sagging clothes and weapon while running. The weapon balanced on his shoulder, not the one in his pants. "How the hell did they even recognize you, anyway?"
Vash laughs nervously again, unsure of that himself. He suspects the bandits in question are associates of those bastards in Kasted and more interested in Wolfwood, to be perfectly honest, given how they were shouting to 'get the cross bastard.' Of course, Vash doesn't say as much because he's focused on the gritty, dark street ahead and the not tripping over his own two feet and dying . Thankfully, he spots a well-placed narrow alley ahead and barrels toward it with all the grace of a drunk Thomas.
Snatching out his only arm, he grabs Wolfwood before he blitzes past and yanks him in. With Punisher, he barely fits, but somehow they manage to squeeze in and hustle down the narrow space until it spits them out on the back end of a cluster of squat, ramshackle buildings with just enough space to hide around the corner and not be seen from the street entrance.
Relieved, Vash closes his eyes and slumps against the wall, panting as he tries to calm the frantic beat of his heart.
Nearby, Wolfwood is doing the same, though each raspy breath sticks in Vash's ears like a song he can't quite get out of his head. It doesn't help that he's still stupidly hard and keyed up from what was going on before the bandits ransacked the hotel and their room with the intent to kill. Swallowing tightly, Vash groans and thumps the back of his head against the building. His skin, suddenly hot and tight all over, leaves him feeling even more uncomfortable.
"Remind me never to stop here again," Vash groans. "Worst town ever. Can't even get off in peace."
Amusingly, Wolfwood huffs out a quiet, wry laugh. "Wouldn't be the first time the universe has cock-blocked us."
Ha.
Chuckling, Vash pries his eyes open and shoots a smile at his grinning partner in crime. Wolfwood, of course, is gorgeously tousled with his messy, dark hair and rumpled half-done-up clothes. The taut line of his abdomen trembles and pulls with each panting breath. In the half-light, Vash can just make out the glistening bruise he'd been sucking into Wolfwood's skin before being interrupted. Mouth flooding with saliva as he recalls the sensation of rubbing his nose into the deliciously coarse curls low on Wolfwood's belly, Vash whines.
"It was very rude," He grumps, pouting.
If anything, Wolfwood's smile widens. The look in his eyes is equal parts fond and sympathetic. Setting Punisher aside on a nearby wall, he sidles up close without bothering to do up any of his clothes. It's just as well because as their chests bump together, Vash sets his hand on the jut of a sun-browned hip and delights in the sensation of their hips pressing flush.
"You know…We could pick things up from here," Wolfwood suggests off-hand.
Vash's stomach quivers, and deep in his chest, his heart lurches. Christ, he missed this. And when it comes down to it, he desperately missed Wolfwood. Even if it did take months to recall who the charming, reckless tilt of a smile and coal-dark eyes haunting his dreams belonged to.
Huffing out an amused laugh, Vash ducks his head and sighs when Wolfwood's nose bumps in close. The fleeting, teasing kisses that follow are almost enough to forget that they're holed up in a dirty alley and on the run. Sliding his hand around to the small of Wolfwood's back, Vash gets a palmful of his pert backside and squeezes.
"I mean, we could ," He replies playfully, tempted by the idea as if they haven't been tumbling into one another's arms and going at it like a pair of newlyweds since leaving Kasted.
It's not surprising that it happened. Even before JuLai, Vash couldn't escape the orbit of Wolfwood's gravity. And recalling the storm cloud of hunger in Wolfwood's eyes that first night alone in the dunes after saying goodbye to Lina and Granny, Vash's belly quivers in anticipation.
"I'm starting to think you get off on this kind of shit," Wolfwood observes, drawing Vash from his thoughts.
His hands push at Vash's jeans, bunching them up around the thigh so that he can rut lazily into the cradle of Vash's hips, skin to skin. It pulls a long, tremulous sigh from Vash, who tips his head back in a vain attempt to get the messy strands of long, blonde hair out of his face.
"You'd think, but historically, no . I really don't. That's kind of the damned point." Vash replies, cheeky.
Going still, Wolfwood snorts. Then he laughs outright, light, airy, and oh-so amused. Charmed, Vash can't help laughing as well. It is so funny that he buries his face into Wolfwood's neck to try and stifle the laughter. It isn't until a burst of noise carries in from the street to their hiding spot that Vash manages to suppress it. Though only just barely. The ticklish fingers pressing pinpoints of heat into his belly do not help either, as much as Vash craves the touch.
"Idiot, you lost 'im!" A voice growls.
"He can't have gone too far with that big gun!" Another replies.
"Goddamn, you idjits, get movin'!" A third says.
There's a scuffle, just barely audible over the rasp of Vash's breathing, then movement at the mouth of the alley.
"Hey, you think they went down this way?"
Shit. Shiiiit. Biting his lip, Vash tenses. Wolfwood, the utter rat bastard that he is, grins against Vash's earlobe and nips the spot as his big hand wraps solidly around the length of Vash's aching prick. Belly jerking in response, it's all Vash can do not to groan on the spot. Fingers digging into Wolfwood's backside, he squirms where he stands.
"No way, don't be a dumbass. Cross-Guy's gun is way too big to fit. Now git, before we lose them for real!" Bandit number three barks.
Another scuffle follows, and then Vash's distracted ears catch the sound of receding footsteps. Sighing in relief, he sinks against the wall with a whimper. Bullying closer, Wolfwood also takes himself in hand, capturing them both in the grip of his calloused palm. The pace is lazy, more teasing than anything, but it still makes Vash's toes curl.
"Fuck, you're a menace." Vash whines.
The simmering heat in his gut unfurls decadently, and he's just about to demand a kiss when a new set of voices call out.
"Oy, Jimbo, check down that alley!"
Jesus fucking—
"Goddamnit," Wolfwood hisses as he reels away.
Somewhere, if there is a God, Vash is sure they are laughing as he hauls his jeans up and hastily zips the fly. Wolfwood, doing the same, casts about for a means of escape. Vash beats him to it, finding a rickety, rusty ladder that leads up onto the roof of a nearby building. It'll be a scramble, but he's reasonably confident he can get up with no problem, even if Vash is only working with one arm.
Wolfwood, catching on to how this will play out, spits out a truly impressive string of curses. "Fucking Jesus cunt licking Christ on a goddamned stick."
Darkly amused, Vash throws himself at the ladder and clumsily starts up just as he hears boots coming down the alley. "Better hurry, Wolfwood. I think we're about to have company!"
Wolfwood shoots him a blazing look, but he grabs Punisher and somehow slings it over his back like a rucksack. Moments later, he races up the ladder behind Vash and urges him to go faster.
"Move your ass, Blondie, or I'm gonna bite it. We're about to get shot at!" Wolfwood warns.
It's an appealing idea for another time. The biting, not the getting shot out. And, sure enough, Vash hears a shout when they are halfway up, followed by the zing and clatter of a bullet going wide and bouncing off the side of the building. Yelping, he picks up the pace and hopes their luck holds out. Behind, Wolfwood keeps muttering angrily to himself.
"Shoulda left you in Kasted with that kid and her Granny. I don't need this shit."
Despite himself, Vash grins and keeps moving.
So much for getting laid.