Reflections
folder
+S to Z › Trigun
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,475
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Trigun
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,475
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Trigun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Fastforward
A/N: Author’s note located at the END of this chapter.
Update 02/17/04: If you are the 300th person reading this (check the counter on this page to find out) then review, and recieve a special, made to order, Trigun yaoi drabble. (That\'s a small approx. one to three paragraph blurb.) In your review just tell me which Trigun yaoi pairing you want. But you must also leave an honest review. So there, and YAY 300 hits for this story!
**I do not own Trigun. I do own several other things. Beautiful Trigun Doujinshi being one of them. Inspiration for angsty WolfXVash Romance-drama.
Previously:
**Legato, you tricky bastard. I’m on to you.**
And with the grin that was nearly a grimace, and a lead weight in his heart, he stepped inside a shabby building to make reservations for the evening. Two beds. Nick in one, Vash in the other. Legato was watching, after all. And he would never give that man an excuse to come near December again.
Reflections, Chapter 9: Fast-forward.
The reservation had been made, though the innkeeper looked distracted and nervously preoccupied during the whole transaction, and Nicholas Wolfwood had gone back and retrieved Vash the Stampede from the saloon where he had left him. The gunman was completely drunk when he arrived, and Nick thought it might not be a terrible idea to become quite drunk as well. Too much drama in too short a time. The dream, the punishment, the man beside him. All the elements were running endlessly together and he could feel deep in his gut that they would soon meld completely and come to a head in some horrible and inevitable conclusion.
So he got drunk. Stumbling, slurring, nauseated.
He dragged Vash back to the Inn, sometime around midnight. Vash didn’t take much prodding to convince that they needed no more to drink. Both kne knew their limits, and both knew that they had stepped a little too far over them.
And so they arrived at their room, second floor, number 22. Featuring one unfortunately small twin bed.
**\"I could have sworn I asked for TWO beds. If I thought I could make it downstairs without tripping over my own goddamned feet, I\'d give the manager a piece of my mind.\"**.
\"It\'s mine.\" Vash stated, his words slurring ever-so-slightly together. He stumbled the few remaining steps to the bed, and sat down. His hands (metal. flesh.) met at his neck, unbuttoning the top buttons of his painfully red jacket.
Now fast-forward.
Arguments. Guns. Metal. Skin. Cloth. Hair. Moonlight.
Hitting. Hurting. Yelling. Touching. Brooding. Lying.
**Why don\'t you shoot ME? Come on, just once ought to do it. Put me out of my misery, get me off of this godforsaken planet.** Nicholas thought, the words aching to escape his lips. **Come on, come on, come on.**
\"Come on.\"
---------------
“World of pain.”
---------------
“You should talk.”
---------------
“This isn’t about me.”
----------------
“Yes it is.”
Metal against metal. Anger. Passion. A man he did not know.
“Take it off.”
---------------
His shirt hit the floor.
---------------
“Why do I like you?...You have a good heart.”
----------------
“You have no idea what I’m capable of doing.” **...To you**
---------------
“I know exactly what you’re capable of.”
Hand. Hair. Neck. Sighs.
And so they sat there, Nick’s legs on either side of Vash’s thighs. Nick’s shirt and jacket discarded and forgotten on the floor. One of Vash’s hands pressing gently against Nick’s chest, the other tangled in his hair, but not moving. Neither man could move; closer, farther, it didn’t matter. They were frozen in the moonlight, the lights glinting off the gun on the floor. Wolfwood’s gun, now under the desk across the room, was reflecting nothing.
When Wolfwood felt his heart start beating again **Had it stopped? Shit.** his body took the opportunity to make a command decision for him. He had a split second to think **No. I’m not going to kiss him!** before his lips closed over Vash’s and his coarse fingers slid across pale cheeks, then soft ears, ending intertwined behind a warm neck. **So warm. Just like I remember.**
Vash made a small noise in the depths of his throat, what could have been a noisy sigh or a muted moan. Regardless, he was quiet obviously pleased. Their lips parted after the gentle, tentative kiss, and Vash’s eyes held the genuine smile that was mirrored in his grin.
**Stunning. That smile could kill a man. Well, if killing wasn’t against every single grain in his body, that is.** He thought with an inner laugh.
“I knew it. I knew you wanted this, Nick.” And at the same moment Vash uttered those all too true words, a familiar creaking noise blew in through the open window of their room. It was faint but with every creak it seemed to be getting closer.
Nick’s smile which had slipped unknowingly onto his face sometime between breaking the kiss and contemplating Vash’s grin, faltered, and his eyes darted immediately to the night outside.
“I just knew it.” Vash leaned nd pnd pressed his lips against Wolfwood’s startled mouth. A protesting mumble escaped his lips mid-kiss and he delicately pushed Vash away from him.
**Oh God, why is that so hard? I can’t keep pushing him away! I have to keep pushing him away. Why is this so difficult?! Why couldn’t he be horrible? Why does he have to want this as much as I do?** He sighed. **I do want this Vash. I just can’t have it. But I do want this.**
“I don’t want this.” Nick told a confused though still smiling Vash.
**It’s that bird. Christ, Legato. Perfect timing as usual** Nick could not see the bird outside his window, and judging from the creaking of it’s wooden wings, it had not actually arrived yet. He had no doubt it would be there soon enough.
Vash froze in his grip at the coolly spoken words and the furious look on Nick’s face. He snatched his hands back, off the other man’s chest and out of his dark, tousled black hair. He stood, sending Nick, who was lost in dark thoughts, tumbling to the ground, falling on top of his shirt and jacket. He landed with a thud and a sigh as his elbows and ass connected with the floor and the air escaped the clothes beneath him.
The bird was now perched on the sill of a window across the street from their bedroom. He could just make out the awkward movement of it’s landing and the glinting of the moonlight on the red glass of it’s eyes.
He closed his own eyes in relief. It probably hadn’t seen anything then.
Without another word, Vash finished removing his red coat and tossed it carelessly to the ground on the side of the bed nearest the window (it seemed to take a huge amount of effort, Nick noticed, to keep from throwing it ferociously at him.) He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, but not really focusing on anything. Nick wondered, looking at the back of the blonde head, if he had noticed, or could even see the puppet bird blended into the dark. Or if he would even know what it meant. He doubted it.
Vash finally bent and pulled his boots off, one thumping to the floor, then the other. He pulled the covers of the bed down and slid between the sheets with a long hiss of leather against cotton.
Vash had not asked again for the bed. And Wolfwood had not argued.
He gathered his clothes under his head and lay on the wooden floor. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for troubled sleep to come to him.
And eventually it did.
---TBC---
A/N: I like the tone of this chapter. It speeds and slows with the kind of pacing I like to throw around. Which probably explains my fascination with mixing up the timeline and stuff. But yeah, the tone- I like the dark feel and the speediness which, to me, feels mildly alcohol induced. I do wish it could have been longer, as my brain is throwing ideas for plot twists and similar things at me at such speeds that I can’t really keep up. I hope you all enjoy, and remember to review honestly (I remind everyone again that errors in character, grammar, or anything else are things I would greatly like to know about. A short embarrassment is far better than letting it stay wrong, and having people read it wrong forever.)
Update 02/17/04: If you are the 300th person reading this (check the counter on this page to find out) then review, and recieve a special, made to order, Trigun yaoi drabble. (That\'s a small approx. one to three paragraph blurb.) In your review just tell me which Trigun yaoi pairing you want. But you must also leave an honest review. So there, and YAY 300 hits for this story!
**I do not own Trigun. I do own several other things. Beautiful Trigun Doujinshi being one of them. Inspiration for angsty WolfXVash Romance-drama.
Previously:
**Legato, you tricky bastard. I’m on to you.**
And with the grin that was nearly a grimace, and a lead weight in his heart, he stepped inside a shabby building to make reservations for the evening. Two beds. Nick in one, Vash in the other. Legato was watching, after all. And he would never give that man an excuse to come near December again.
Reflections, Chapter 9: Fast-forward.
The reservation had been made, though the innkeeper looked distracted and nervously preoccupied during the whole transaction, and Nicholas Wolfwood had gone back and retrieved Vash the Stampede from the saloon where he had left him. The gunman was completely drunk when he arrived, and Nick thought it might not be a terrible idea to become quite drunk as well. Too much drama in too short a time. The dream, the punishment, the man beside him. All the elements were running endlessly together and he could feel deep in his gut that they would soon meld completely and come to a head in some horrible and inevitable conclusion.
So he got drunk. Stumbling, slurring, nauseated.
He dragged Vash back to the Inn, sometime around midnight. Vash didn’t take much prodding to convince that they needed no more to drink. Both kne knew their limits, and both knew that they had stepped a little too far over them.
And so they arrived at their room, second floor, number 22. Featuring one unfortunately small twin bed.
**\"I could have sworn I asked for TWO beds. If I thought I could make it downstairs without tripping over my own goddamned feet, I\'d give the manager a piece of my mind.\"**.
\"It\'s mine.\" Vash stated, his words slurring ever-so-slightly together. He stumbled the few remaining steps to the bed, and sat down. His hands (metal. flesh.) met at his neck, unbuttoning the top buttons of his painfully red jacket.
Now fast-forward.
Arguments. Guns. Metal. Skin. Cloth. Hair. Moonlight.
Hitting. Hurting. Yelling. Touching. Brooding. Lying.
**Why don\'t you shoot ME? Come on, just once ought to do it. Put me out of my misery, get me off of this godforsaken planet.** Nicholas thought, the words aching to escape his lips. **Come on, come on, come on.**
\"Come on.\"
---------------
“World of pain.”
---------------
“You should talk.”
---------------
“This isn’t about me.”
----------------
“Yes it is.”
Metal against metal. Anger. Passion. A man he did not know.
“Take it off.”
---------------
His shirt hit the floor.
---------------
“Why do I like you?...You have a good heart.”
----------------
“You have no idea what I’m capable of doing.” **...To you**
---------------
“I know exactly what you’re capable of.”
Hand. Hair. Neck. Sighs.
And so they sat there, Nick’s legs on either side of Vash’s thighs. Nick’s shirt and jacket discarded and forgotten on the floor. One of Vash’s hands pressing gently against Nick’s chest, the other tangled in his hair, but not moving. Neither man could move; closer, farther, it didn’t matter. They were frozen in the moonlight, the lights glinting off the gun on the floor. Wolfwood’s gun, now under the desk across the room, was reflecting nothing.
When Wolfwood felt his heart start beating again **Had it stopped? Shit.** his body took the opportunity to make a command decision for him. He had a split second to think **No. I’m not going to kiss him!** before his lips closed over Vash’s and his coarse fingers slid across pale cheeks, then soft ears, ending intertwined behind a warm neck. **So warm. Just like I remember.**
Vash made a small noise in the depths of his throat, what could have been a noisy sigh or a muted moan. Regardless, he was quiet obviously pleased. Their lips parted after the gentle, tentative kiss, and Vash’s eyes held the genuine smile that was mirrored in his grin.
**Stunning. That smile could kill a man. Well, if killing wasn’t against every single grain in his body, that is.** He thought with an inner laugh.
“I knew it. I knew you wanted this, Nick.” And at the same moment Vash uttered those all too true words, a familiar creaking noise blew in through the open window of their room. It was faint but with every creak it seemed to be getting closer.
Nick’s smile which had slipped unknowingly onto his face sometime between breaking the kiss and contemplating Vash’s grin, faltered, and his eyes darted immediately to the night outside.
“I just knew it.” Vash leaned nd pnd pressed his lips against Wolfwood’s startled mouth. A protesting mumble escaped his lips mid-kiss and he delicately pushed Vash away from him.
**Oh God, why is that so hard? I can’t keep pushing him away! I have to keep pushing him away. Why is this so difficult?! Why couldn’t he be horrible? Why does he have to want this as much as I do?** He sighed. **I do want this Vash. I just can’t have it. But I do want this.**
“I don’t want this.” Nick told a confused though still smiling Vash.
**It’s that bird. Christ, Legato. Perfect timing as usual** Nick could not see the bird outside his window, and judging from the creaking of it’s wooden wings, it had not actually arrived yet. He had no doubt it would be there soon enough.
Vash froze in his grip at the coolly spoken words and the furious look on Nick’s face. He snatched his hands back, off the other man’s chest and out of his dark, tousled black hair. He stood, sending Nick, who was lost in dark thoughts, tumbling to the ground, falling on top of his shirt and jacket. He landed with a thud and a sigh as his elbows and ass connected with the floor and the air escaped the clothes beneath him.
The bird was now perched on the sill of a window across the street from their bedroom. He could just make out the awkward movement of it’s landing and the glinting of the moonlight on the red glass of it’s eyes.
He closed his own eyes in relief. It probably hadn’t seen anything then.
Without another word, Vash finished removing his red coat and tossed it carelessly to the ground on the side of the bed nearest the window (it seemed to take a huge amount of effort, Nick noticed, to keep from throwing it ferociously at him.) He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, but not really focusing on anything. Nick wondered, looking at the back of the blonde head, if he had noticed, or could even see the puppet bird blended into the dark. Or if he would even know what it meant. He doubted it.
Vash finally bent and pulled his boots off, one thumping to the floor, then the other. He pulled the covers of the bed down and slid between the sheets with a long hiss of leather against cotton.
Vash had not asked again for the bed. And Wolfwood had not argued.
He gathered his clothes under his head and lay on the wooden floor. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for troubled sleep to come to him.
And eventually it did.
---TBC---
A/N: I like the tone of this chapter. It speeds and slows with the kind of pacing I like to throw around. Which probably explains my fascination with mixing up the timeline and stuff. But yeah, the tone- I like the dark feel and the speediness which, to me, feels mildly alcohol induced. I do wish it could have been longer, as my brain is throwing ideas for plot twists and similar things at me at such speeds that I can’t really keep up. I hope you all enjoy, and remember to review honestly (I remind everyone again that errors in character, grammar, or anything else are things I would greatly like to know about. A short embarrassment is far better than letting it stay wrong, and having people read it wrong forever.)