Characters: Vash; Wolfwood
Genre: flangst, I think ... turned out kinda pointless I fear. I wanted fluff, then Vash angsted all over it and then – well, you'll see.
(It's about what you do, not where you are)
* * *
“I hate sand. It's hard and gritty and it gets everywhere.“ Wearily, Wolfwood lets the Punisher drop on the dry, hard-packed ground. Vash just lets himself drop bonelessly beside it, obviously not caring about the dust and dirt. After yet another one of their typical days of being yelled and shot at and then being forced to march through the desert for god-knows how many hours, the only thing he wants to do seems to be sitting down and not thinking.
Wolfwood watches him for a moment from the corner of his eyes. The way bangs of hair slightly hang over the man's eyes. How the sun-set seems to set his coat on fire.
He forces himself to avert his eyes and shrugs out of his jacket, then shakes his arms a few times with an annoyed scowl on his face, as if some sand grains have crawled up his arm just for the sake of pissing him off even more.
The fading light makes a stark contrast of shadows and blazing gold of his skin and the outline of his features.
For a moment he feels like Vash eyes are on him, watching intently, maybe even searching for something, but when he turns, the guy still stares sightlessly at the far away horizon.
* * *
Their rather poor excuse for a fire crackles and whispers and Wolfwood feels like it's having a laugh about them. The last bit of light is a burning line above the ground.
Vash is already laying on his back, still focused inwards as it seems. The priest knows he could simply let him be, let him have some time with his thoughts. But today, he feels like he shouldn't. Normally, Vash gets himself out of this brooding state of mind more or less soon on his own, but other times he just acts like he does now. Funny how it always makes his guide want to throttle someone.
Wolfwood leans back against one of the rocks between which they made camp and throws a few more sticks into the fire. It sizzles and squirms and somehow, even that it annoys him.
“You know Tongari,” he starts suddenly, “if you could be anywhere else right now, where would that be?”
Vash seems to take a moment to even register that someone's talking to him - he frowns, seems to recall the words, then contemplate them. Wolfwood stays silent and patient through it, making sure the other understands that he is serious.
Finally, Vash opens his mouth as if one the verge of saying something, then shuts it again.
The priest watches him and frowns.
Where I want to be? Between all these innocent people and the ones who seek to destroy them for no reason, between the people and this all-consuming, nothing-giving desert - -
Between Knives and the people of this planet, to never let him hurt them again - -
Decades back, on the ship, to change the past - -
Where I want to be? In every place where I failed someone, again... And then-
Suddenly, a handful of sand hits Vash's face and he jerks abruptly upright, yelping.
He scowls in the vague direction of his companion, blinking sand from his eyes.
“What was that for?!”
Wolfwood settles back with a small grin, but its got an annoyed edge to it.
“You didn't listen to me. I didn't ask where you'd want to be to ease your stupid guilt. I asked where.you.want to be. You and you alone. That's got nothing to do with what you think you have to do, got that? Now try again.”
He lights another cigarette, his posture rigid, then blows out smoke with an exasperated sound.
Vash stares at him, confused. He knows what he other is aiming at but it doesn't make any difference. Where I have to be... is where I want to be.
For a moment, he considers to make a joke out of his answer to make the other so pissed off that he'll let it drop, but he knows how stubborn Wolfwood can be. A half truth would be the best solution then. But well – where, actually, would he want to be if it weren't for where he had to be?
Still thinking about a decent answer he's distracted by Wolfwood before he even realizes it. His cigarette in one hand, the priest runs his fingers through his hair with the other, his still annoyed gaze lost somewhere in the dark. He seems to be surprisingly oblivious to Vash's rather obvious staring.
Where do you want to be?
A small, peaceful town with many trees... a private room with a wide bed... sunlight streaming through the curtains but the air is pleasantly cool... smell of donuts from the kitchen... he's laying next to me, his broad, naked, dark back to me and I run my hands up his skin and he shivers and - - -
“...Vash? Vash!? “ Suddenly there are two hands moving directly in front of his face. Blinking, he jerks back.
Wolfwood scowls at him, irritated and confused.
“You were... kinda dazed.”
Vash has the decency to blush for a moment. Then he grins broadly.
The priest looks even more confused. “....uuhh, yeah.”
Vash settles back down again, grin still in place, and closes his eyes.
“Where I actually want to be right now is in the next town. You gave me a really good idea of something I'd like to try there.”
* * *