Wolfwood's new profession

Well here's the latest installment! Sorry that I'm not updating with any regularity...when university finishes for the year I'll start putting out a chapter every fortnight or so...the story is pretty much finished...only another 2-3 chapters to write making a total of probably just under thirty or so.

Thanks to all who have come this far and are enjoying my story...you guys are the reason I write....


Chapter Eleven: Discovery


He heard Vash sniffle and realized he hadn’t said anything since the suit had fallen. The gunman’s head turned slightly towards him, trying to gauge his reaction. Wolfwood bit his lip when he saw the tears streaming down Vash’s face and the flinch when he first opened his mouth to speak.

“Vash…Vash, I…”

“I…I understand if you don’t want to…touch me…anymore” Vash choked out a whisper, his eyes downcast and glittering with tears, face twisted with sorrow and hurt.

Wolfwood realized that any hesitance on his part at this moment could ruin everything and he immediately leaned over and placed a loving kiss on Vash’s shoulder. The gunman’s eyes flew open with a gasp and he glanced at the priest to see if he was as disgusted as he’d expected him to be. Wolfwood just smiled and, keeping Vash’s gaze, slid his tongue along the ridge of his shoulder, across a scar and ended with a kiss against the base of his neck. Vash shivered, closing his eyes as new tears slid down his face. But Wolfwood didn’t think they were sad tears.

“You’re beautiful, Vash…and I’ll always want to touch you…”

The Stampede let out a heavy sigh, another tear rolling across his cheek.

‘Finally…finally someone accepts me…’

‘…and I’m glad it was him…’

…so glad…


Wolfwood ran a hand around Vash’s side, bringing it up to hold him closer. Vash sighed again and shifted on the bed, his bionic hand coming up to cover the priest’s, fingers interlacing. Wolfwood pressed his lips against Vash’s shoulder again before moving to the side slightly and pressing him down onto his back. The priest swallowed heavily at the sight of even more scars, some so deep he had trouble believing that Vash could move as gracefully as he did. Or, in some cases, that he was still alive.

The Stampede always looked impressive in his flamboyant red coat, dashing from main city to remote village with boundless energy, saving the underdogs. He certainly had the right name. Vash the Stampede: Humanoid Typhoon. It suited the one-man wrecking crew that was the gunman next to him, breezing though towns and reducing them to rubble with his overenthusiastic care, but somehow always coming out on top. Men like that terrified people and inspired them. They became legends. But there, in the pale moonlight, in a motel room, he looked scared and small. Like a frightened child, with his longish spikes of hair shading his uncertain gaze, and the harsh, dark metal of his bionic arm contrasting sharply with the pale reality of his skin.

Tears were running down his face again and when Wolfwood lay down next to him, Vash curled into his embrace, hands clasping at him, shoulders shaking with sobs. Wolfwood stroked his back, knowing that Vash needed to be comforted more than anything right that second. He shifted slightly and Vash let out a ragged sob, clutching tighter, thinking he was leaving. He settled quickly and twined his fingers around a few strands of hair, smoothing them against the spikes, leaning down to murmur reassuringly in the gunman’s ear.

“Shh…shh Tongari…it’s okay…I’m not going anywhere.”

Vash let out a trembling sigh, breath shuddering from between his lips as he buried his face in Wolfwood’s chest. The priest ran a hand over his back, fingers lightly tracing a scar as he placed small kisses on Vash’s temple. Eventually the sobbing subsided and Vash lay back, eyes red-rimmed and sad. Wolfwood cupped his cheek and smiled reassuringly, wiping away a few stray tears with his thumb before leaning in to catch Vash’s lips in a short kiss. They stared at each other before Wolfwood hesitantly began to explore the body next to him.

His eyes dropped to where the mechanical arm met skin on Vash’s shoulder, his fingers following. Vash jumped a little at the contact, surprised at feeling someone else’s touch there, and made the effort to lie still. Wolfwood lightly traced the line of the metal, the roughened skin, darker than the rest of his complexion; over his shoulder and down along the arm itself. Vash said nothing, but didn’t meet Wolfwood’s eyes.

Wolfwood brought the bionic hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on each finger before turning it over and kissing the palm. He laid it back down as the Stampede avoided his imploring glance, eyes flicking down to Vash’s chest briefly.

‘Hn…he has no nipples…no wonder he's so interested in mine…’

His gaze drifted, or rather was drawn to, the huge metal grate covering, what he supposed was Vash’s heart. Surely Knives could have mentioned this, even if he skipped telling the priest about the smaller scars.

‘But I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect me to get his brother naked…’ Wolfwood mused, eyes tracing where the grate pressed into Vash’s flesh.

Vash could sense him staring and quickly brought up a hand to hide it. Wolfwood caught him before he could, bringing the hand up to his face to kiss it.

“Don’t Vash…you don’t need to be ashamed. Of anything.”

Vash made a small noise as Wolfwood’s gaze continued to brush across his body. He resisted the urge to cover himself or knock Wolfwood’s hands away when the priest began to touch him, tracing each scar. Vash shivered a little and the priest stopped, drawing his hand back slightly.

“What did I do?”

Vash shook his head and worried his lower lip in his teeth.

“They’re just a little sensitive sometimes…” He mumbled, glancing at the priest. Wolfwood nodded, a slow, predatory smile flickering across his face.

“Is that so?” He arched an eyebrow.

Vash darted him a wary look and Wolfwood smirked before swiping his tongue across one, feeling Vash shudder and gasp. He grinned and licked again, this time slower and Vash made a noise in the back of his throat, arching slightly.

No one had ever accepted him as fully as the priest was doing now and Vash found himself pressing into Wolfwood’s mouth as the churchman slowly explored every scar across his chest, lingering till Vash cried out, fingers threading into Wolfwood’s ebony hair.

Wolfwood made his way down, eventually ridding Vash of the rest of the leather, peeling it from his long legs and kissing his way back up. Vash curled up slightly on the bed, unsure and anxious, his eyes misting again.

Wolfwood lay next to him, turning Vash to face him.

“I don’t know what you were so worried about Tongari…I can’t believe you’d think a few scars would make me leave you. I love you…all of you…” He trailed off realizing what he’d said.

A weighty silence filled the air as Vash slowly met his gaze, emerald eyes searching and hopeful. Wolfwood held his stare, trying to channel all his love for the gunman next to him through his gaze. Vash blinked rapidly, his eyes darting away, and suddenly pressed his face beneath Wolfwood’s chin. The priest smiled, stroked the gunman’s hair and just let it be, because sometimes it can be hard to hear that someone cares when you’re not sure what to do about it.

The priest brought his head up for a kiss and smiled when Vash responded with enthusiasm. He slowly pushed the gunman to lay back and smiled at him, stroking a thumb across his swollen lips as he cupped his cheek. He traced a path down the side of his neck, feeling the Stampede shiver.

Vash wet his lips and Wolfwood slowly let his fingers draw a line down the gunman’s scarred torso, drift over his stomach, stopping at the shallow orifice on his lower stomach. Vash wrinkled his nose, wiggled, half snorted. Wolfwood looked back at him with a curious gaze.

“Stoppit, mmm…tickles” The Stampede murmured, a smile twisting his mouth as Wolfwood’s fingers lazily dipped in and out of the slight indent. Wolfwood grinned, pleased at the smile and the way Vash seemed to be relaxing.

“So…you’re ticklish?” The priest asked, voice light and amused, arching an eyebrow.

“Don’t…ooh…” Vash tried to wriggle out from under his hand , eyes wary. “I hate being tickled!”

Wolfwood stilled his hand, giving Vash a reassuring smile. When the priest’s fingers did finally move, Vash went still and tense, a small shiver wracking his frame. Wolfwood moved them slowly, below Vash’s navel until they brushed up against downy curls, the same shade of gold that crowned the gunman’s head. Vash took a deep breath, holding it briefly, then another.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Wolfwood leaned close and breathed in Vash’s ear, feeling the shiver again. It made him want to groan and bury his face in Vash’s neck, kiss the sweaty skin there and drown himself in the gunman. Somehow he held himself back, only to feel another surge of lust at Vash’s reply

“Yes.” He whispered, almost inaudibly.

Wolfwood dragged his fingers through the curls, his knuckles brushing up against the head of Vash’s length. The gunman made a small sound, a plea, twisted just a little. Wolfwood closed his eyes, praying for patience.

The priest pressed his lips to the shell of his ear, breathing warm air across it, raised his hand and rested his warm palm lightly over Vash’s erection. Vash shuddered, his bionic hand raised and mechanical fingers curled over Wolfwood’s forearm. He gave a little groan and Wolfwood could see him fighting the urge to press himself harder against the hand covering him.

“You like this?” Wolfwood whispered in his ear, already knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it confirmed from those silky lips.

“Yes,” Vash’s voice was breathless and thin and Wolfwood suppressed a chuckle and slowly, so slowly, moved his palm down the length of him and back up. Vash gasped, eyes closing, and sucked in his bottom lip. The grip on Wolfwood’s forearm tightened slightly in reaction making Wolfwood smile, his eyes roaming Vash’s flushed body. The priest loosely wrapped his fingers around the Stampede, pressed his lips to Vash’s neck and began to tug and slide. Vash shivered, twisted, his knees bent slowly and he jerked his head to the side, pressed his face into Wolfwood’s throat. The priest found it all terribly endearing.

And because Vash was still inexperienced and aroused before he really even touched him, it did not take very long. Wolfwood lifted his head, moved up onto his elbow and watched, wanting to sear this moment into his memory. Vash’s beautiful eyes were closed tight, but the play of sensation across his face was something to be savoured. He moved his lips to words only he knew and golden eyebrows climbed and dipped.

Wolfwood lowered his head so suck a small spot, just below the gunman’s ear, blowing softly against the damp skin. Vash shivered and groaned again, his hips rocking up into the priest’s hand as Wolfwood’s own arousal throbbed hotly in reaction to the gunman’s breathless exclamations..

He slid his fist faster, tightening his grip slightly and Vash’s cock pulsed in his hand and he came with a lovely suddenness, his eyes flying open, lips parting and body arching up hard, before collapsing back to the bed.

Ragged pants and soft whimpers followed quickly and Wolfwood curled his hand over Vash’s hip, rolled him onto his side facing the priest and let the breathless Stampede press against his chest. He ran a soothing hand up and down his back and pressed lips to a temple covered with sweat-stuck golden silk. They lay like that for a while, neither speaking, just Vash pressing harder and Wolfwood stroking softer and it was all perfect, because it was sincere and that was all it needed to be.


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Love Hella