Vash is acting unusual. He’s unusual by nature—Plant—but this is odd even for him.
Vash’s usual upright stance has turned into hunched shoulders, anxiously shifting his gaze as if someone was going to attack at a moment's notice. He also flinched away when Wolfwood brushed a hand against him whereas before he would melt into his touch. Wolfwood was hoping it would calm him down, normally grazing a hand along Vash’s back or neck was enough to settle his nerves.
Vash is hiding something and Wolfwood is going to find out what it is.
He finds out one evening when Vash asks for two rooms. Two rooms. They haven’t gotten two rooms in what feels like forever, once Vash stopped caring about sleeping near an alpha, near Wolfwood. Vash also asked for three nights without explanation. Wolfwood is the only one who asks for two rooms and for more than one night when he is on his rut.
Something is definitely up.
Pretending to be unfazed—he’s not going to hound Vash yet—Wolfwood walks to his room while Vash enters his own. He rests the Punisher by the wall and grabs a cigarette. Smoking by the lone window, Wolfwood waits a couple of minutes, giving Vash enough time to settle and do whatever he needs to do before Wolfwood barges in. Cigarette half finished, he snuffs it out on the window sill.
Leaving the lonely space, Wolfwood strides to Vash’s room and knocks on the door.
“Spikey?”
No answer. Wolfwood can smell a faint sour stench coming from the room. It’s strange because Vash doesn’t smell like that nor that strong, smelling like the insides of a plant that grows in the desert. Aloe vera was it?
Wolfwood knocks again, concern rising. “Vash?”
Nothing. Did he pass out?
“I’m coming in!” Wolfwood waits a few seconds for Vash to respond but doesn’t receive any. Opening the door, a wave of the sour odour hits Wolfwood in the face, smelling like rancid fruit. A hit of rotten meat mixes with the smell that almost makes Wolfwood gag. He had smelled something similar before. They’d come across a giant plant that smelled like rotten meat—flesh—when it bloomed. Equivalent to a species on Earth, Vash called it a corpse flower.
Closing the door behind him, Wolfwood slaps a hand to cover his nose and scans the room. In his signature red coat and leather pants, Vash is lying on his side on the bed, his travel bag forgotten as it sits in the middle of the room. Stepping closer, Wolfwood realizes the smell is coming from Vash, who is writhing and sweating while dozing. Something in Wolfwood’s brain clicks, eyes widening.
Is Vash in heat?
Wait. But Vash is a beta. Or well that was what Wolfwood wrote him off as. After travelling so long with him and Vash never saying anything about a heat or rut, Wolfwood assumed he was a beta. Guess he thought wrong.
It doesn’t explain the awful scent and the anxiety rolling off of Vash, desire from a typical heat nonexistent.
Rounding the bed, Wolfwood reaches to touch Vash’s temple—hot—brushing away the blond fringe. Vash’s face twitches at the contact. A hand reaches to grab Wolfwood’s arm, guiding his wrist to Vash’s nose. Vash inhales his scent, making Wolfwood flush.
“Vash,” Wolfwood calls. Vash rouses slowly, blinking his eyes open. He gazes up at Wolfwood with clouded eyes. “Are you in heat?”
Vash squints at him, mind sluggish as he processes the question, then his eyes widen, releasing Wolfwood’s hand.
“I’m—” Vash struggles to sit up, hissing in pain. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” He sits up but not without panting.
“Sure,” Wolfwood says sarcastically. “Are you in heat?” he repeats.
Vash’s pheromones spike in anxiety as he looks down at his lap, chewing on his bottom lip.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Wolfwood grabs the travel bag on the floor.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Vash’s whispers.
The smell permeating the room becomes potent with tension, edging on fear. Wolfwood glances back at Vash. He has a frightened look on his face, legs drawn up and hugging his midsection. Another thing clicks in Wolfwood’s head: he’s an alpha intruding on an omega’s heat, Vash’s heat—the sudden urge to comfort kicks in.
“Hey,” Wolfwood starts, tone soft, “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just get your stuff out so you can make a nest.”
Vash’s expression turns nervous. “That’s okay! I don’t need one!”
Wolfwood raises his eyebrows in shock. “Don’t need one?” he echoes. Every omega should need one.
Vash winces, realizing what he said. “I’ll just make one later. I’m—”
“Vash.”
Vash stills, clamping his mouth shut.
“When’s the last time you had a heat?”
Vash manages a sad smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s been… a while.”
Wolfwood knows it has been a while, no mention of a heat since he’s known the guy.
Vash continues. “With suppressants, I don’t have to deal with it but I haven’t had any luck with finding any lately.”
With Vash’s bounty and being a lawless gunman, there aren’t many safe places for him to ride out a heat, doesn't have the luxury of being vulnerable. Convinced himself that he didn’t need a nest, didn’t need the self-care.
A picture of Vash in heat, alone and out in the desert, appears in Wolfwood’s mind.
“If you’re not making a nest then I will,” Wolfwood declares. He remembers how to do one, having learned it at the orphanage.
Vash’s gapes at him. “No, you—” Then his eyes glaze over and he doubles over in pain, clutching his abdomen. Distress fills the room.
Wolfwood hurries over to him, guiding Vash to lie back down on the bed. Vash turns his head away from him.
“I don’t need one,” Vash whimpers.
Looking at Vash writhing on the bed, Wolfwood is at a loss for what to do. Vash’s scent is making his nose scrunch up, the urge to gag is strong. His instincts are screaming to leave the omega alone but he steels himself. He needs to calm Vash down.
Taking a deep breath, Wolfwood releases his own pheromones. Pulling the collar of his shirt to the side, he climbs on the bed, hovering above Vash. Vash sobs, shaking under his palm when Wolfwood places a hand on his cheek as he turns his head towards him. Leaning further down with an inch of space between them, Wolfwood guides Vash to his bare neck, to his scent gland. This could either get worse or better, depending on how Vash reacts, if Vash trusts him.
Vash’s pants hit Wolfwood’s skin. Wolfwood tenses when Vash lets out a long-winded whine but he tilts his head towards him, nose brushing against Wolfwood’s neck. Vash inhales; Wolfwood holds his breath.
Taking a whiff of Wolfwood’s familiar scent, Vash settles down on the bed. He rubs his nose and cheek against Wolfwood, burying in his scent.
Wolfwood releases a sigh of relief, carding his fingers into Vash’s hair. “You’re safe.”
Vash whimpers when Wolfwood pulls away. He’s still shaking but the rotten smell has dissipated enough for Wolfwood to breathe without choking. Vash’s tired gaze comes into view. Wolfwood brushes away the sweaty fringe from Vash’s face.
Wolfwood’s eyes flicker to the red coat Vash is still wearing. “Let’s change you into something comfortable, alright?”
Vash nods sluggishly, reaching to unfasten the coat’s buttons. Wolfwood helps him, working much faster, sliding Vash’s arms out of its sleeves and taking the coat right out from underneath him. The coat is left on the bed beside Vash, the start of making his nest. It is Vash’s most precious piece of clothing after all.
Wolfwood helps remove the rest of Vash’s gear—boots, pants, undershirt—and chucks them to the corner of the room to be dealt with later. Without anything on besides his briefs, Vash’s flushed body comes into view. Wolfwood avoids looking a split second longer than he should, quickly grabbing spare clothes and handing them to Vash. While Vash takes his time putting them on, Wolfwood rummages for more clothes, anything that can be used for the nest.
What’s unfortunate about always travelling is they don’t keep a lot of stuff on hand. And most hotels they stay in don’t have extra sheets.
Wolfwood pulls out two shirts and a frayed blanket. He drapes the blanket over Vash’s lower half, who’s now on his side hugging himself. Wolfwood fusses finding a place for the shirts, settling with laying them beside Vash’s legs, framing his shins and calves. Wolfwood brings Vash’s coat closer, letting the collar of it settle over Vash’s shoulders, body and coattails hugging his backside.
Taking a step back to look over his handiwork—there’s not much to work with—Wolfwood’s brain, the alpha brain, supplies that the nest is not good enough.
Screw it.
Wolfwood removes his blazer. He places it in front of Vash, within arm's reach. Omegas just need something familiar, right?
Wolfwood brushes Vash’s hair back. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Vash lets out a raspy ‘kay, taking the blazer and bringing it close to his chest. Wolfwood stares for a moment, the alpha part of him rumbling in satisfaction that Vash accepted a piece of him. Shaking his head, Wolfwood leaves the room to get more clothes—his clothes. Grabbing two shirts, he heads back to Vash.
Entering the room, Wolfwood sees Vash’s fiddling with the nest, rearranging the clothes around him. Wolfwood grins when Vash looks up, hair all rumpled. Vash glances at Wolfwood’s clothes.
“I don’t need it.” Vash pouts.
Wolfwood smiles wider. “But you’ll feel better, right?”
Wolfwood can tell, smell, Vash is feeling better. His pheromones have changed, the sourness still lingering but underneath it, a new fragrance emerges—aloe vera. Vash’s scent.
Wolfwood hands over his clothes to Vash who tentatively takes them without complaint. Vash adds them to the nest, moving the other clothes to accommodate before settling back down on his side. The nest looks much better.
Shifting on his feet, Wolfwood takes it as his cue to leave.
“You can stay,” Vash mumbles.
Turning around, Wolfwood looks at Vash but he’s hiding his face in a pillow. Wolfwood lets out a smile anyway. Vash wants him to stay and trusts him while he rests. “Sure thing.”
Wolfwood makes himself comfortable in the corner of the room where a chair and table sit. Kicking his legs up on the table, he takes out a cigarette in his pocket with no intention of lighting it. Chewing on the filter, he grabs the crinkled newspaper left on the table, reading whatever news is happening on this desert planet.
He doesn’t pay attention to anything he reads, returning to his earlier thoughts about Vash managing his heat alone. It has to be years since Vash’s last heat, maybe even longer since he had a proper nest that wasn’t sand or rocks, always relying on suppressants to avoid being an easy target for hunters. Or alphas.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Wolfwood flips through the newspaper for anything interesting. Wolfwood doesn’t get far—mind still distracted—before his nostrils flare from the spike in Vash’s scent, rousing along with the sour smell.
“Wolfwood,” Vash calls in a small voice.
Wolfwood stands at the call of his name, discarding the newspaper and cigarette. Rounding the bed, Wolfwood sees Vash breathing erratically, struggling to keep his distress down. He’s clutching Wolfwood’s blazer, almost tearing the fabric with tears in his eyes.
“Sorry, can you—”
Wolfwood already knows what he needs. Taking off his shoes, he climbs on the bed, on the nest, wrapping an arm around Vash and the other pillowing his head. Vash latches onto him, nose dipping into his neck. Wolfwood shivers when Vash takes a deep breath. Closing his eyes, Wolfwood drags a hand down Vash’s back, at his mercy while he seeks comfort in his scent. Wolfwood doesn’t care if he will smell of Vash for the next week, or longer.
The tremors die down to twitches as Vash’s gasps turn into sniffles, dragging his nose along the column of Wolfwood’s neck. Vash presses further, cheek rubbing against him, reaching for his scent gland.
Wolfwood’s eyes fly open—Vash is scenting him.
His body heats up at the realization. They never scented each other like this. Vash is in heat, this kind of scenting is way more intimate than just rubbing a wrist on one’s neck. Vash whines, feeling the tension in Wolfwood’s muscles and the shift in his scent. Being this close and personal, Vash is receptive to his emotions. Wolfwood wills himself to relax, calming his racing heart and pheromones.
Vash soon slumps against him, tension gone. Vash’s nose is still pressed against the area between Wolfwood’s neck and shoulder, every breath inhaling his scent as he nuzzles the area. They lie like that until Vash pulls away. He doesn’t move far, just enough for Wolfwood to see his flushed face.
“Can you… do the same for me?” Vash’s face reddens further at the request.
Wolfwood answers by hovering above him. Vash leans back, looking up at him with apprehension but Wolfwood quells his doubts. Planting a hand beside Vash’s head, Wolfwood gives him what he wants, rubbing Vash’s neck with his nose. Vash lets out a choked sigh and melts into the bed, baring his neck to give Wolfwood more room.
Wolfwood inhales Vash’s scent. This close, Wolfwood can smell the sweetness of Vash’s heat, which should’ve filled the room instead of the sour one. Along with the aloe vera, Vash smells like desert flowers that grow on those spiny plants that litter the desert—cacti. Growing heady with it, Wolfwood searches for more, moving to the other side of Vash’s neck, brushing his face across sensitive skin. Vash shudders when his lips brush his scent gland. Wolfwood continues to shower Vash with attention, mixing each other’s scents.
It’s when Wolfwood hears a rumbling sound that snaps him out of his trance, the vibration coming from within Vash. Wolfwood pulls away to find Vash blissed out, almost dozing off while purring away. Vash flutters his eyes open, pain and distress from earlier long gone, and Wolfwood thinks he’s the most relaxed he’s ever been.
“Thank you,” Vash whispers, voice wobbled from the rumble. His eyes glisten with unshed tears.
Wolfwood brushes away stray hairs in front of Vash's face. Vash pushes against his hand, wanting more. It’s endearing, Wolfwood heart swells knowing Vash can let down his defenses like this, with him. He’s the one Vash called for, trusting him.
“Better?” Wolfwood utters.
Vash nods with a smile, wrapping his arms around Wolfwood and bringing him close again. Wolfwood follows, making himself at home in Vash’s neck, feeling the vibrations against his skin. Vash makes his own home in Wolfwood’s scent.
They smell like each other for the rest of the week. Longer when they continue to scent each other.