[ wolfwood is bristling. angry vash means mean and petty vash, and this is clearly stage 2 of vash's anger when he lashes out, but that's great, because wolfwood can be mean and petty and lash out, too! ]
And I can't believe that you'd be throwing a tantrum for a stuffed toy. Goddammit. Aren't you more than a hundred years old?
[ and wolfwood is shoving at his shoulder! he's just as angry for reasons he can't explain, like how vash might have someone else he likes, and maybe it was a gift from someone else, and -- ]
[ vash jerks forward, stopped only by his seatbelt because he's the only sensible one in the car, but that only hinders for a split second while he unclasps it and shoves into wolfwood's space. ]
Big guy thinks he's so tough because he doesn't need anything like that? Fuck you.
[ vash rarely curses, but he's spitting mad now. mad enough that he lashes out with his fist, punching wolfwood's arm. ]
[ oh, that's so unpleasantly new -- vash doesn't swear unless... well, he doesn't swear, and the suddenness of it takes him by surprise and offends him, and he punches him in the arm back!! ]
What the fuck --
[ meanwhile, meryl swerves the car suddenly! turning to head back to the hotel and getting the two children in the back tangled up and scuffling. "hey! no fighting!" ]
[ the suddenness of the car swerving sends vash sliding into wolfwood, knocking into him with a grunt, his head slamming against wolfwood's face. for a moment, he considers apologizing since that wasn't intentional, but the anger is still there, and he glares at wolfwood as he looks at meryl and roberto in the front.
he mutters, "sorry," to meryl and pushes away from wolfwood as the car speeds up, settling back into his seat, folding his arms over his chest.
(it isn't actually a twelve-hour drive, vash was being dramatic with wolfwood's "half a day's trip" comment, but it feels like forever, the way he's stewing in his anger.) ]
[ it doesn't hurt, it absolutely doesn't hurt, except it does and he has a black eye to show for it, and he's too proud to even touch a drop of the serum, stewing in the bruising pain just because he can. he glares right back at him, too proud to demand that apology.
as the ride wears into the next hour, however, he feels his anger fade into something else, something more cognizant of his jealousy. and possibly a bit of guilt, too. because he didn't mean to belittle vash's love for that something he wants so badly -- and if he wants it so badly back, then... well.
and so when the van stops, he's the first one out, stomping into the hotel, with meryl following after with a long-suffering sigh. the manager on duty spots them, and wolfwood goes up to her, ignoring the way her gaze lingers curiously on his black eye. ]
Hey. Has housekeeping picked up a plushie from our room this morning?
[ eventually, he stops glaring at wolfwood and glares out the window, too annoyed and upset and still so angry to try and reach out to apologize or explain anything. he puts his seatbelt back on because that's the right thing to do in a car but otherwise refuses to acknowledge anyone.
when they reach the hotel, vash does quietly thank meryl, but before he can untangle himself from his seat, wolfwood and meryl are both out of the car. probably for the best. vash isn't even sure how he'd ask for it.
the manager on duty looks askance at them but she's used to not asking questions. when wolfwood asks, she jerks her thumb toward a large box in the corner, a wooden sign saying "lost and found" hanging over it. ]
If housekeeping did, it'd be in there. Lemme check if they've already cleaned it.
[ she disappears into the back for a minute to talk to someone, reappearing shortly after. ] They've already been through your rooms, so if you left anything, it's in the box.
[ ...welp, the box it is. when wolfwood goes over to the box, meryl comes along beside him, sparing a pointed, but quiet comment: "you know why he's so upset, right?" ]
Yeah, because of a fuckin' stupid toy some stupid person gave t--
[ "so glad you said that. you gave that to him, you idiot undertaker. a few months ago at the fair." meryl tells him exasperatedly, and when it sinks in, it's almost like a weight on his shoulders, a guilt that seats itself deep, deep, especially when he recognises it now, the small, grey rabbit plushie sitting in the box. it looks loved, a little lumpy in places where it'd been held or stuffed in one place too long. meryl punches the arm vash punched, annoyed.
"how are you so stupid? how did you even forget that?"
at this point, wolfwood doesn't even retaliate as he takes in the bunny plushie in his hand, god, he really deserves that one. ahhh, fuck. ]
[ since it's been longer than vash expected meryl and wolfwood to be in the hotel, he slides out of the car, leaving roberto to watch it, and heads inside, half expecting the plushie to be lost forever. the thought makes him choke up, a knot of worry in his stomach, and he's mentally prepared for the worst by the time he's inside.
vash doesn't really have possessions; life on the road means whatever he has needs to fit in his bag, and it's not like there are many people close to him who would give him anything. but the bunny had been a gift from wolfwood, which meant it was incredibly important, and the fact that he'd left it behind had been a blow.
it takes him a moment to find the pair in the corner, meryl annoyed and wolfwood hiding his expression, and his heart sinks. ]
It's a little small, I wouldn't be surprised if it was lost for good. I was dumb to leave it behind.
[ wolfwood says quietly, turning so that vash can see the bunny plushie sitting in his palm. he holds it out to him, taking care to keep it steady so it doesn't fall off.
even if vash is keeping a strong front, he knows how brittle he must be feeling; he understands vash like no one else, and he feels awful, absolutely, absolutely awful about the entire thing, making things difficult for vash when he didn't have to, the childish, petty spite. it's the ugliest side of him, and it's a wonder that vash didn't actually punch him for real.
he hands the plushie to him while meryl very conveniently and sneakily wanders out of earshot, giving them whatever privacy they need; whatever privacy is worth here. he's still reeling from it, from how vash so obviously cherishes the toy. how he'd dug his heels in and didn't let go. ]
At that funfair. Felt like a lifetime ago. I didn't know you still held on to it.
[ the relief is instantaneous once vash sees the plushie, a beatific smile on his face as he grabs the plushie, rubbing his cheek against it's soft plush body. ] You found it.
[ he almost doesn't catch wolfwood's last words, taking a second to parse their meaning, and then he blinks at the other man even as he kisses the bunny. he's still reeling from the sudden relief, the dissipation of anger, and so his hackles rise, and he holds the bunny a little tighter, a little closer to his chest, almost afraid that wolfwood will snatch it back, even though he has no reason to suspect that. ]
It was a gift from you. Of course I kept it. That's not— it's not weird or anything, to keep a gift. [ the only other gift vash has gotten is the SEEDS jacket he still wears everywhere. people don't give vash gifts, unless the scars count. on the rare occasion they give him friendship, it's shortlived; he's a dangerous man, so he understands. ]
[ wolfwood watches vash treat this toy like it's everything, the relief and joy he feels from him almost a palpable thing, and it surprises him -- no one's ever really treated what he gives them as something precious; then again, wolfwood's never really done a lot of gifting, having little to nothing himself.
but this, this is special. his eyes are fixed on vash and his defensiveness, gripping the bunny like it's his lifeline, and his heart aches for him. he knows that vash has had a very rough life; he'd spent months worshipping those very same scars, loving him, but then there are reminders like these that show how horrible vash's life really is, how he is so rarely, rarely gifted anything without strings.
and wolfwood feels even more awful for forgetting. meryl, in the meantime, has slipped out to the van, and wolfwood can't help the guilt. he doesn't take the bunny away, but he simply nods, pensive, taking in his words. ]
...C'mon. Let's go.
[ he has a lot of making up to do, a lot to understand about vash, but not here -- the faster they're on their own in private, the better. ]
We can still make it to the next town by nightfall.
[ it's stupid and vash knows it, clinging so desperately to something that was just a small gift, but it's important to him. as important as wolfwood, in a way, something tangible he can cling to when wolfwood isn't around. people don't stay with vash, and wolfwood deserves better than a life on the run, fighting everything that's made him hard and brittle around the edges, a life that can't include vash. ]
Thanks for finding it.
[ it's about all he can manage for now, and the smile he turns on wolfwood isn't even a good fake smile. he is thrilled to have it back, but he feels emotionally exhausted, exposed and tender. he tucks the bunny away in one of the inner pockets of his jacket, to be replaced in his bag later on, and nods in return, following wolfwood back to the van.
no one really talks in the van, which suits vash just fine, and they do manage to make it to the next town by nightfall, the second sun casting the town in shadows with its final rays of sunlight as it slowly sinks beneath the horizon. it's bigger than the previous town, but only barely: there are two hotels, both of them with rooms to spare; one boasts an attached bar and restaurant, where roberto disappears to promptly, meryl following with complaints of hunger.
vash double checks his pocket for the bunny before climbing out of the van, smiling at wolfwood. it's a small smile, but honest. ]
[ it's not in the least bit stupid -- it's wolfwood that feels stupid, like the world's biggest asshole when he'd forgotten something like this. it moves him, too, to know that vash cherishes something so much, holds it so close to his heart.
wolfwood turns away from that fake smile, assuming that vash is still angry with him, and he ought to be. how many nights have they spent together, how often have they fucked slowly, sweetly, and still wolfwood didn't remember the gift he'd given him.
so when they finally reach the hotel, wolfwood nods at his smile, but lingers outside to light a cigarette and take time for himself. he gives vash ten, fifteen minutes before he lets himself into the room that they'll be sharing together. it's small but decent, quite clean and nice, all things considered. he'd spent the last quarter of an hour or so forming a proper apology and had run through so many options, and now, he finally settles on something simple. ]
'm sorry, Vash. Shouldn't have gone at you like that. And shouldn't have forgotten.
[ simple. clean. no excuses. wolfwood doesn't do excuses. ]
[ vash knows that sometimes, wolfwood just needs some time to himself, so he doesn't comment when he disappears, although some small fissure of worry lingers in the back of his head. getting irrationally angry about not having the plushie was, well, irrational.
thinking of the plushie, he digs it out of his jacket, ready to put it back in his bag so it doesn't get lost again when wolfwood returns. he looks up from the soft, gray plushie to wolfwood, eyes going wide and expression soft when he says that. since he's in the room, with no need to keep the light out of his eyes or hide his expression, he has his glasses off, so his face is exposed, vulnerable. ]
Wolfwood. [ vash crosses the room in a few steps, wrapping his arms around wolfwood, tucking his face against his shoulder, the plushie still in his fist. he forgives wolfwood, just like that; there was never a possibility of not forgiving him. ] Nicholas. I'm sorry I punched you. It wasn't a big gift, I don't expect you to remember.
[ and it really is okay, in vash's mind, that he doesn't remember; it was a small gift, nothing major to most people. but the bunny plush is important to him, important enough to throw a fit about. ]
[ wolfwood grimaces. vash, so beautiful, so open and so soft and vulnerable, forgives too easily, loves too deeply, and even if it's him, wolfwood doesn't want vash to discount his feelings like that. it shouldn't be okay. it shouldn't be, not when he's seen how willingly vash will throw down for it. the plushie in his hand looks so treasured and precious, and he comes to grip vash by the back of his neck, cradling him there. ]
Vash. Expect better from people. From me.
[ he tells him gruffly. he's never thought his gifts would be so precious to someone, and as he presses his forehead to his, he sighs. ] I should've remembered. I'm not used to anyone thinking that anything I give them has value.
[ he deserves an explanation. he deserves more than what wolfwood can give him. ]
[ vash's expression goes complicated when wolfwood admits that, soft and open and sad. wolfwood's such a good person thrust into a role that made him hard, surrounded by walls to protect his heart. no wonder why he didn't remember giving it to vash.
vash leans in, pressing his lips to wolfwood's in a quick, hard kiss. ] Everything you give me has value. Everything. [ he cherishes wolfwood so much, and it means so much to him that wolfwood is there. that wolfwood wants him in return. ]
I don't have much, especially not gifts from people. So something like this, a gift from you.... [ how can he explain what it makes him feel? even when he'd thought it something small, almost a throwaway gift, it had meant so much to him. ]
I'll always treasure it. [ He wavers for a second, voice catching, but ventures on: ] And you. [ I'll always treasure you, he means, and he hopes that comes through. ]
[ how is vash still this gentle and soft and so, so loving? the sweetness of his response and the way he kisses him makes wolfwood's heart skip a beat. the touch of his lips on his is welcome, the hard kiss punctuating what he means to say.
it's the first time someone tells him that he has value, shows him, too, in the way he treasures the gift he'd given him, so much so that he'd fight him for it. he's moved by the sincerity of his actions, his words, and his heart hurts. oh, how wolfwood would give him everything that he can, to make up for all the things he doesn't have.
wolfwood presses close and kisses him back, but this time the kiss is drawn out, longer. more wanting. what he can't put in words, he hopes vash can feel in his kiss. he wants him, he loves him, he cherishes him more than anything else. ]
Silly.
[ he says between kisses, his voice rough as he tries to lighten the mood with a joke. ] You totally just want more gifts from me.
[ vash knows what that joke is, a way for wolfwood to lighten the mood, to deal with the emotions he hides so carefully but that come spilling out. vash grins against wolfwood's lips, and he pulls away just enough to look at him with puppy eyes, big and bright and helpless. ]
Does that mean you'll get me more?
[ he doesn't care if wolfwood never gives him another gift. just this is enough, every kiss, every touch, every moment they spend wrapped around each other in bed. he'll always have these memories, and the plushie, and that's more than he deserves.
[ wolfwood says after a moment, because he wants vash to have more things. he remembers seeing him in his home, the scant belongings he had there too -- and his heart aches for him. wolfwood might not have much, but he wants vash to have everything he can want.
hell, why wouldn't he, when vash is looking at him like this, so painfully cute and hopeful and eager? it's too blinding, too adorable, and he pinches his cheeks. ]
But uuuuugh, I hate when you look at me like that!
[ the pinch hurts (not really; it, in fact, feels good because it means wolfwood's hands are on him) and vash whines, knocking away wolfwood's hands and rubbing his cheek, looking at him with a pout. ]
Well get used to it, that's always how I look at you, you meanie.
[ wolfwood can't help a smile and a gruff little noise because stop looking so cute, jerk. what is he to do with you? his hands, however, comes to cup his face briefly before letting him go. if vash looks at him like that all the time, well... well. that's really kind of nice. and it makes wolfwood shy. and embarrassed. so he quickly changes the subject: ]
[ vash's lips part, tongue peeking out as he thinks. no one's ever asked him what he wants, and he's left scrambling to think of an answer. Eventually, he settles on a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head. ]
I've never thought about it? I'll take anything you give me, really. And you don't have to buy me presents, I was just saying that if you do, I'll treasure them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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And I can't believe that you'd be throwing a tantrum for a stuffed toy. Goddammit. Aren't you more than a hundred years old?
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What does my age have to do with anything? Are you so big and tough you can't understand that people like having something comforting with them?
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Yeah, Maybe I am! So what?
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Big guy thinks he's so tough because he doesn't need anything like that? Fuck you.
[ vash rarely curses, but he's spitting mad now. mad enough that he lashes out with his fist, punching wolfwood's arm. ]
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What the fuck --
[ meanwhile, meryl swerves the car suddenly! turning to head back to the hotel and getting the two children in the back tangled up and scuffling. "hey! no fighting!" ]
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he mutters, "sorry," to meryl and pushes away from wolfwood as the car speeds up, settling back into his seat, folding his arms over his chest.
(it isn't actually a twelve-hour drive, vash was being dramatic with wolfwood's "half a day's trip" comment, but it feels like forever, the way he's stewing in his anger.) ]
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as the ride wears into the next hour, however, he feels his anger fade into something else, something more cognizant of his jealousy. and possibly a bit of guilt, too. because he didn't mean to belittle vash's love for that something he wants so badly -- and if he wants it so badly back, then... well.
and so when the van stops, he's the first one out, stomping into the hotel, with meryl following after with a long-suffering sigh. the manager on duty spots them, and wolfwood goes up to her, ignoring the way her gaze lingers curiously on his black eye. ]
Hey. Has housekeeping picked up a plushie from our room this morning?
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when they reach the hotel, vash does quietly thank meryl, but before he can untangle himself from his seat, wolfwood and meryl are both out of the car. probably for the best. vash isn't even sure how he'd ask for it.
the manager on duty looks askance at them but she's used to not asking questions. when wolfwood asks, she jerks her thumb toward a large box in the corner, a wooden sign saying "lost and found" hanging over it. ]
If housekeeping did, it'd be in there. Lemme check if they've already cleaned it.
[ she disappears into the back for a minute to talk to someone, reappearing shortly after. ] They've already been through your rooms, so if you left anything, it's in the box.
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Yeah, because of a fuckin' stupid toy some stupid person gave t--
[ "so glad you said that. you gave that to him, you idiot undertaker. a few months ago at the fair." meryl tells him exasperatedly, and when it sinks in, it's almost like a weight on his shoulders, a guilt that seats itself deep, deep, especially when he recognises it now, the small, grey rabbit plushie sitting in the box. it looks loved, a little lumpy in places where it'd been held or stuffed in one place too long. meryl punches the arm vash punched, annoyed.
"how are you so stupid? how did you even forget that?"
at this point, wolfwood doesn't even retaliate as he takes in the bunny plushie in his hand, god, he really deserves that one. ahhh, fuck. ]
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vash doesn't really have possessions; life on the road means whatever he has needs to fit in his bag, and it's not like there are many people close to him who would give him anything. but the bunny had been a gift from wolfwood, which meant it was incredibly important, and the fact that he'd left it behind had been a blow.
it takes him a moment to find the pair in the corner, meryl annoyed and wolfwood hiding his expression, and his heart sinks. ]
It's a little small, I wouldn't be surprised if it was lost for good. I was dumb to leave it behind.
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[ wolfwood says quietly, turning so that vash can see the bunny plushie sitting in his palm. he holds it out to him, taking care to keep it steady so it doesn't fall off.
even if vash is keeping a strong front, he knows how brittle he must be feeling; he understands vash like no one else, and he feels awful, absolutely, absolutely awful about the entire thing, making things difficult for vash when he didn't have to, the childish, petty spite. it's the ugliest side of him, and it's a wonder that vash didn't actually punch him for real.
he hands the plushie to him while meryl very conveniently and sneakily wanders out of earshot, giving them whatever privacy they need; whatever privacy is worth here. he's still reeling from it, from how vash so obviously cherishes the toy. how he'd dug his heels in and didn't let go. ]
At that funfair. Felt like a lifetime ago. I didn't know you still held on to it.
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[ he almost doesn't catch wolfwood's last words, taking a second to parse their meaning, and then he blinks at the other man even as he kisses the bunny. he's still reeling from the sudden relief, the dissipation of anger, and so his hackles rise, and he holds the bunny a little tighter, a little closer to his chest, almost afraid that wolfwood will snatch it back, even though he has no reason to suspect that. ]
It was a gift from you. Of course I kept it. That's not— it's not weird or anything, to keep a gift. [ the only other gift vash has gotten is the SEEDS jacket he still wears everywhere. people don't give vash gifts, unless the scars count. on the rare occasion they give him friendship, it's shortlived; he's a dangerous man, so he understands. ]
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but this, this is special. his eyes are fixed on vash and his defensiveness, gripping the bunny like it's his lifeline, and his heart aches for him. he knows that vash has had a very rough life; he'd spent months worshipping those very same scars, loving him, but then there are reminders like these that show how horrible vash's life really is, how he is so rarely, rarely gifted anything without strings.
and wolfwood feels even more awful for forgetting. meryl, in the meantime, has slipped out to the van, and wolfwood can't help the guilt. he doesn't take the bunny away, but he simply nods, pensive, taking in his words. ]
...C'mon. Let's go.
[ he has a lot of making up to do, a lot to understand about vash, but not here -- the faster they're on their own in private, the better. ]
We can still make it to the next town by nightfall.
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Thanks for finding it.
[ it's about all he can manage for now, and the smile he turns on wolfwood isn't even a good fake smile. he is thrilled to have it back, but he feels emotionally exhausted, exposed and tender. he tucks the bunny away in one of the inner pockets of his jacket, to be replaced in his bag later on, and nods in return, following wolfwood back to the van.
no one really talks in the van, which suits vash just fine, and they do manage to make it to the next town by nightfall, the second sun casting the town in shadows with its final rays of sunlight as it slowly sinks beneath the horizon. it's bigger than the previous town, but only barely: there are two hotels, both of them with rooms to spare; one boasts an attached bar and restaurant, where roberto disappears to promptly, meryl following with complaints of hunger.
vash double checks his pocket for the bunny before climbing out of the van, smiling at wolfwood. it's a small smile, but honest. ]
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wolfwood turns away from that fake smile, assuming that vash is still angry with him, and he ought to be. how many nights have they spent together, how often have they fucked slowly, sweetly, and still wolfwood didn't remember the gift he'd given him.
so when they finally reach the hotel, wolfwood nods at his smile, but lingers outside to light a cigarette and take time for himself. he gives vash ten, fifteen minutes before he lets himself into the room that they'll be sharing together. it's small but decent, quite clean and nice, all things considered. he'd spent the last quarter of an hour or so forming a proper apology and had run through so many options, and now, he finally settles on something simple. ]
'm sorry, Vash. Shouldn't have gone at you like that. And shouldn't have forgotten.
[ simple. clean. no excuses. wolfwood doesn't do excuses. ]
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thinking of the plushie, he digs it out of his jacket, ready to put it back in his bag so it doesn't get lost again when wolfwood returns. he looks up from the soft, gray plushie to wolfwood, eyes going wide and expression soft when he says that. since he's in the room, with no need to keep the light out of his eyes or hide his expression, he has his glasses off, so his face is exposed, vulnerable. ]
Wolfwood. [ vash crosses the room in a few steps, wrapping his arms around wolfwood, tucking his face against his shoulder, the plushie still in his fist. he forgives wolfwood, just like that; there was never a possibility of not forgiving him. ] Nicholas. I'm sorry I punched you. It wasn't a big gift, I don't expect you to remember.
[ and it really is okay, in vash's mind, that he doesn't remember; it was a small gift, nothing major to most people. but the bunny plush is important to him, important enough to throw a fit about. ]
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Vash. Expect better from people. From me.
[ he tells him gruffly. he's never thought his gifts would be so precious to someone, and as he presses his forehead to his, he sighs. ] I should've remembered. I'm not used to anyone thinking that anything I give them has value.
[ he deserves an explanation. he deserves more than what wolfwood can give him. ]
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vash leans in, pressing his lips to wolfwood's in a quick, hard kiss. ] Everything you give me has value. Everything. [ he cherishes wolfwood so much, and it means so much to him that wolfwood is there. that wolfwood wants him in return. ]
I don't have much, especially not gifts from people. So something like this, a gift from you.... [ how can he explain what it makes him feel? even when he'd thought it something small, almost a throwaway gift, it had meant so much to him. ]
I'll always treasure it. [ He wavers for a second, voice catching, but ventures on: ] And you. [ I'll always treasure you, he means, and he hopes that comes through. ]
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it's the first time someone tells him that he has value, shows him, too, in the way he treasures the gift he'd given him, so much so that he'd fight him for it. he's moved by the sincerity of his actions, his words, and his heart hurts. oh, how wolfwood would give him everything that he can, to make up for all the things he doesn't have.
wolfwood presses close and kisses him back, but this time the kiss is drawn out, longer. more wanting. what he can't put in words, he hopes vash can feel in his kiss. he wants him, he loves him, he cherishes him more than anything else. ]
Silly.
[ he says between kisses, his voice rough as he tries to lighten the mood with a joke. ] You totally just want more gifts from me.
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Does that mean you'll get me more?
[ he doesn't care if wolfwood never gives him another gift. just this is enough, every kiss, every touch, every moment they spend wrapped around each other in bed. he'll always have these memories, and the plushie, and that's more than he deserves.
not that he'll say no to more gifts. ]
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[ wolfwood says after a moment, because he wants vash to have more things. he remembers seeing him in his home, the scant belongings he had there too -- and his heart aches for him. wolfwood might not have much, but he wants vash to have everything he can want.
hell, why wouldn't he, when vash is looking at him like this, so painfully cute and hopeful and eager? it's too blinding, too adorable, and he pinches his cheeks. ]
But uuuuugh, I hate when you look at me like that!
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Well get used to it, that's always how I look at you, you meanie.
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Well then, what else did you want me to get ya?
[ he'll take notes. ]
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I've never thought about it? I'll take anything you give me, really. And you don't have to buy me presents, I was just saying that if you do, I'll treasure them.