Oh my god, I didn’t actually think anybody’d ask about the Trigun fics. ^_^ I haven’t cracked these in so long, I’m not sure they even still open. Let’s see…
Maybe this is basically done, who knows? I doubt it’s ever getting worked on any more, at any rate, So I’m just going to go ahead and post the entire contents. BEHOLD MY WRITING SKILLS OF FOUR OR MORE YEARS AGO.
***
“The people who touch me die,” Vash said.
Wolfwood snorted. “Sure.”
“He kills them.”
Wolfwood turned slowly.
“You might have noticed,” Vash said sardonically. “He’s a bit possessive.”
Wolfwood’s eyes widened. He meant to protest that he had no idea what Vash was talking about, but in the face of that comment, it was kind of futile. What came out was, “Then…hasn’t anyone ever touched you?”
“Oh.” Vash choked a little. “Yes.”
Wolfwood felt his eyes get bigger. “I mean. Anyone else?” Shit, way to give it all away.
Vash laughed a little, looking down at his hands. “Not so you’d notice,” he whispered.
The shock of it pulled Wolfwood back into the room. He staggered over to plunk down on his bed. “Shit. Vash.” Knives had…
Vash’s eyes flicked up toward him, then widened when he saw something in Wolfwood’s face. “You…!”
A bolt of panic went through him. “That’s not the point!” He waved it away. “The point is…” What was the point? This unsettled him on some deep and personal level, as if he felt threatened when he should’ve just been feeling sorry for Vash. “The point is…if he can get to you…” If he could touch Vash that way, then what hope was there?
Wolfwood couldn’t bring himself to say it, but Vash read it in his face. “I’ve lived with this for a long time,” he said, trying for reassuring but only managing weary. “It doesn’t change anything.” Seeing the doubt still in Wolfwood’s eyes, he added, “He can’t control me. He controls the people around me.”
“He blackmails you with them, you mean.”
Vash nodded. “They’re hostages.”
“If you let them touch you, they pay the price.”
Vash nodded again, looking defeated.
Wolfwood mulled that over for a little. “So then, what if it were somebody he’d already marked for death?” Vash’s gaze snapped up to bore into him. “Well, then it wouldn’t change anything, right?”
Vash didn’t answer, looking troubled. Wolfwood rose to pull down the curtain, then stepped over to him. When Vash looked up at him, conflicted but not stopping him, Wolfwood raised his hands to cup his face, leaned down, and kissed him, slow and intent. Vash’s hands rose to curl lightly around the priest’s wrists, fingertips just brushing his inner wrists.
God, he tasted like rain. Wolfwood had experienced a rain storm once, tingling electricity and clean water evaporated in the air. Vash tasted of such things that didn’t even belong on this planet.