Wolfwood is pissed at him.
Vash's bad habit of avoiding violence decided it was a good idea to make himself vulnerable and almost get shot in the head. Old habits die hard.
Looking for a place to grab food and drinks, they ran into a hostage situation when bandits took over a saloon and demanded ransom money. Vash stuck his nose in, pleaded with them to let innocent people go and a I’ll do anything slipped out. A sly grin formed on the ringleader’s face and told him to get on his knees. Vash did without hesitation while Wolfwood cursed (he doesn’t know if it was directed at him or the guy). He expected the man to take him hostage as well, Vash wanted to get close to knock them all out. But he didn’t expect the man to yank his head back, pulling him by the hair, and ask him what else would you do, doll? , making his skin crawl. The question echoes in his mind.
It was enough for Vash to still for a second too long to allow the man to direct a gun at him without his notice. Luckily, Wolfwood fired the first shot, alerting him awake to dodge and for the man to miss, causing the bullet to narrowly bypass his head.
They somehow scraped by without major injuries with the Punisher eating most of the bullets. They overwhelmed the group with superior aim, having to shoot at their limbs to restrain them even though Vash didn’t want to resort to violence. After the dust settled, Wolfwood gave him the silent treatment until they arrived at the hotel.
Vash hasn't seen him this mad before. Wolfwood has gotten mad at him many times for being careless but something seems different this time, something is bothering him.
Currently, Wolfwood is fuming quietly, muttering under his breath while disassembling the Punisher on the floor and cleaning its parts, making himself at home—as best he can—in the rundown room they are staying for the night. He's not lashing out yet but Vash thinks he’s one step away from it.
Vash usually meets his ire, not backing down when Wolfwood demands he should have a little more self-preservation, take care of himself more, but he's too guilty to fight back. He feels bad for putting himself in that position today, could’ve ended with him seriously injured if it wasn’t for Wolfwood, grateful for the save. And he got distracted by that comment. Vash wants to argue that he would’ve been okay, take a bullet and take out the group within seconds—he has done it before—but he knows he will get chewed out for saying that. So Vash stays silent, sulking by the lone table in the corner of the room, cleaning his own gun.
Vash hears Wolfwood say under his breath, “So you would do anything, huh?”
He heard the guy’s question.
“Yeah, I would,” Vash utters across the room.
Wolfwood wraps the Punisher with its cloth and belts. "You would touch yourself to avoid violence now would you?" he asks rhetorically.
He knows Wolfwood is exaggerating, he knows Wolfwood is trying to figure out the limit to his selflessness but would he? If it meant he could say a life he would. If Wolfwood's life was in danger, he would do it without hesitation. He should stay quiet or call him out on his dramatics. "If it means saving a life, yes."
Wolfwood snorts, placing the Punisher up against the wall and paces the room. “What if they asked for something worse? With no promise of saving someone?”
Vash turns towards him. “If there’s a small chance I’ll take it.”
Wolfwood pauses. He sits on the bed and takes out a cigarette. He asks, “Would you do anything to save my life?”
Of course. “Anything,” Vash confirms.
Wolfwood huffs irritably at his answer. “Fine.” He rummages through his pockets, looking for a lighter. “If you’re so compliant, then get naked and touch yourself."
Vash stills. He doesn’t think Wolfwood realized what he said, preoccupied with searching for his lighter. Making good on his promise, Vash does what he’s told.
He doesn't know what compels him to take off his coat and strip, throwing the red fabric over the back of the chair. A sick way of proving his point, determined to show that he would do anything—anything for Wolfwood. Or maybe a part of his brain is telling him if Wolfwood told him to get naked, he would.
Vash strides to the middle of the room. He keeps his gaze down to avoid direct eye contact but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wolfwood freeze when he starts to take off his pants, not expecting Vash to go along with his theatrics. He was being rhetorical you don’t need to do this. Wolfwood stares in disbelief and Vash falters when he pulls down his briefs. He chucks them to the side along with the rest of his clothes and gear. His flesh hand wanders to his crotch and begins to circle his clit.
He’s taking this too far but it’s too late to stop.
It’s awkward at first, putting on a show like this with someone watching but he wants to make this enjoyable. Closing his eyes, he tries to think about being in a slightly different scenario, where Wolfwood isn’t mad at him, sweetly asking him to strip for him. For him .
Vash moves lower, fingers tickling around his heat. He’s growing wet from the stimulation and by the heated gaze he can feel on him. Gathering enough slick, he dips a finger inside his entrance and lets out a soft sigh. He grinds his finger inside his cunt, finding the spot that makes him writhe, and rubs the heel of his palm on his bud. His hips jump at the friction and he spreads his legs wider, making room to slip another finger between his folds. He moans at the added stretch and clenches around his fingers.
Slick drips down his hand and thighs. Vash thinks he hasn’t been this wet before, Wolfwood’s presence easily making him heady. He trails his prosthetic hand up to tease his nipple and bites his lip when he adds a third digit into his cunt. His heat throbs around his fingers as the pressure in his abdomen tightens. He’s not going to last long.
Rutting against his fingers, his hand starts to grow tired and Vash audibly whines, body shaking. He wants Wolfwood’s fingers inside instead of his own. He wants Wolfwood to be the one taking care of him. With half-lidded eyes, Vash meets Wolfwood’s gaze whose eyes are blown wide. He moans and thrusts his fingers faster, riled up by Wolfwood watching him.
Soon the pressure breaks and Vash chokes on a whimper, shuddering as he comes. Slick spills on his skin and drips on the floor. He massages his walls until the pleasure subsides into oversensitivity and pulls away.
Just as he catches his breath, Vash glances up when Wolfwood suddenly stands up and walks passed him, leaving the room. The sound of the door closing echoes and the sweat on his skin turns cold—alone. Vash doesn’t move until the mess on his hand becomes uncomfortable, reminding him what he’s done.
On autopilot, Vash strides to the bathroom and cleans his hand and thighs with a damp towel. He numbly cleans the floor. He changes into his sleepwear and climbs onto the mattress, turning on his side and drawing up his knees. Lying in bed, the weight of what just happened comes crashing down and he lets out a dry sob.
Wolfwood left. And he doesn’t know if he should be mad at him for leaving or sad for upsetting him, having gone too far.
Tears prickle his eyes and he pulls the sheets over his head, hiding himself as he cries silently. He feels humiliated. What was he thinking? What does Wolfwood think of him? Probably disgusted for opening his legs so easily. It doesn’t help that all the scars on him make his body unappealing, adding to the insecurity.
Hugging himself, he cries himself to sleep.
After that scene, they act like nothing happened. Except Wolfwood is avoiding touching him. Something is troubling him but Vash is too busy mourning the touches to ask about it, pretending it doesn’t bother him but he can’t ignore the rift it has caused between them—small talk, tiptoeing around each other.
It comes to a boiling point when Vash has a new wound on his side to stitch up, leaving Wolfwood to patch him up and finally touch him after a week of nothing. Wolfwood is kneeling in front of him with a needle and thread, closing the wound, while he sits on the edge of the bed. Wolfwood pulls away and Vash clenches his jaw to hold back a whine at the loss. He isn’t as successful at holding back the tears threatening to fall. Wolfwood catches the water in his eyes and leans back further, eyes widen in fear, and Vash feels anger. Why is Wolfwood the one scared?
Wolfwood opens his mouth but Vash beats him to it. “Why are you ignoring me?”
Wolfwood’s expression turns confused. “What? Are you—Did I hurt you?” Gesturing to the wound.
Vash ignores it and fires off another question. “Do you think I'm disgusting?”
“Wha—No! Are you talking about the scars?”
Vash shakes his head. “From the other day,” he grits.
Wolfwood squints, trying to understand what he’s talking about, and then his eyes widen. “Is that what this is about?”
“Yes!” Vash shouts. Frustrated, the tears spill from his eyes and Vash wipes them away before they can fall past his cheeks.
Wolfwood looks down, grimacing. “You think that I was disgusted by you?” he whispers.
“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” Vash hisses. Then he closes in on himself, shoulders hunching as the fight in him fizzes out. He grabs his shirt from the side and hugs it, covering his chest. “You left.”
Wolfwood thinks for a moment, then stands and paces to the middle of the room with a hand in his hair, struggling to gather his thoughts. Vash looks up at him expectantly.
"I wasn't disgusted by you." He swallows, facial features pinched with guilt. "I was disgusted at myself."
“Then—Then why’ve you been ignoring me?”
Wolfwood rakes his fingers against his scalp in dismay. “Because I shouldn’t have told you to do that. It was wrong. I was stupid and I wanted to give you space after…that.” He turns, back facing him. “Just trust me when I say I wasn’t disgusted.”
Ah. A different type of shame wells up inside him, being the one who got carried away and enjoyed it while making Wolfwoood uncomfortable. Wolfwood is trying to spare his feelings. “I—I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
Wolfwood looks back at him baffled. “Don’t start—”
“No,” Vash interrupts, “I’m the one who wanted to do it. I—” Vash puts his head in his hands, hiding his red face. “I didn’t mind you telling me to do that,” he mumbles. “And I got carried away without considering how you feel.”
He liked it. He liked Wolfwood watching him. It was because of Wolfwood that he was able to pleasure himself in front of him.
There’s a beat of silence after his half-assed confession. His eyes water again, anxious waiting for Wolfwood’s response. He hears Wolfwood approach him and he jumps when a hand touches his knee.
“Hey.”
Vash lifts his head from his hands. Wolfwood, on his haunches, gives him a soft smile.
“I didn’t mind it either. You looked great.” Wolfwood coughs, cringing at his words. “So stop moping. No more guilt shtick.”
Vash stares. Did he hear that correctly?
Wolfwood stands. "Okay, time to put a bandage on you."
Vash gapes at the change in conversation while Wolfwood grabs a bandage roll from their supplies. He taps Vash’s arm, indicating to lift his arms to give him room. Still stunned, Vash lifts them on instinct and shoots an intense look at Wolfwood, who’s adamantly giving his full attention to patching him up.
“What do you mean?” Vash asks.
Wolfwood raises a brow, adjusting the bandage around him. “What do you mean what do I mean? I think I was very clear.” Wolfwood is putting on a straight face but Vash can see his ears turning red. Satisfied with the bandaging, Wolfwood pulls away and changes into his sleepwear.
“You—” Vash sputters. Are his feelings reciprocated?
Wolfwood passes him, heading towards his side of the bed, but is stopped by Vash yanking him by the collar of his shirt. Wolfwood curses but is cut off by Vash’s crashing his lips against his.
It’s a press of the lips until Vash tilts his head to slot their mouths easier. Vash lets out an appreciative hum when Wolfwood also leans to the side and inches forward. Wolfwood moves away to end the kiss but Vash grabs his face and holds him still. He gets a huff and hands gripping his waist in response.
Dissatisfied with the angle, Vash stands, surging forward as he backs Wolfwood against the wall. Wolfwood lets out a gasp and Vash licks into his mouth.
Then, Wolfwood bites his bottom lip hard and Vash yelps back. Vash gives him a wounded look.
“It’s time for you to rest.” Wolfwood shoots him a pointed look, face flushed.
Vash whines, leaning forward to touch the tip of his nose with Wolfwood’s. “But I wanna kiss more.”
Wolfwood huffs, mouth quirking up into a smile. “Later.”
Wolfwood helps take off Vash’s prosthetic and they climb into the bed together. Vash wraps an arm around Wolfwood and shuffles closer to breathe in the scent on his neck, mind and body relax after worrying about the strain on their relationship. Wolfwood settles an arm around him and sneaks the other under his head.
A beat of silence passes between them when Vash hears Wolfwood whisper, “Sorry I left,” into his hair.
Vash shakes his head. “‘s okay.” He nuzzles Wolfwood’s collarbone. “We’re okay now.”
Tension leaving his body, Vash sleeps easy knowing Wolfwood is right beside him.
Perched on his knees above Wolfwood's abdomen, Vash rubs his clit before inserting a finger inside his wet entrance.
Humming, Wolfwood sits up and noses his temple. “So pretty, just for me,” he sighs, smoothing his hands down Vash’s sides to his thighs. “Are you able to come only on your finger like you did before?”
Vash huffs but shivers at the praise. He turns and captures Wolfwood’s lips on his own. “I need a little help.” Vash smiles against his lips.
Wolfwood grazes his fingers towards his inner thighs. “Okay angel.”