[ Vash will absolutely dwell on that little sliver of happiness like it's sunlight breaking through the clouds. He forgets the ache in his shoulder and the cold and the damp until he's dripping all over the entryway beside Wolfwood.
Vash at least attempts to keep his dripping confined to the single welcome mat, but he does look up in time to see Wolfwood's shoes get thrown back at him. Vash makes an undignified sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. Normally, he'd be holding up his hands in a placating gesture toward Wolfwood already, but instead Vash flashes him a stupid little grin. What is Wolfwood going to do about it?
Maybe Vash is a little punch drunk on seeing him so relaxed. Wolfwood had always seemed to think he'd never be able to lay his cross down, but here... Vash wonders. ]
Maybe we can find somewhere to leave our things to dry? I've seen fire...places. [ It takes him a moment to remember the word, but those false memories are handy. ] I'm pretty sure there's one this way... [ Vash has already started wandering off. ]
[ Vash just laughs at him, and Wolfwood spares a moment for a look of theatrical betrayal before his eyebrows draw into familiar annoyance.
He reaches out to grab Vash by the back of his coat before he can wander off too far, pulling him down when he bends over to retrieve his shoes before continuing further into the house. ]
Don't you have more than one more of clothes? Just get changed and throw the wet ones in one of those machines.
[ To be fair, if they were still on Gunsmoke, they'd likely have to strip and leave their clothes to dry in the sun. Wolfwood has no idea what Vash carries in that pack of his, but he'd never had room for anything more than Punisher as a traveling companion. He was lucky if he managed to hold onto a bottle of water for more than three days.
But now, they live luxuriously. He's not quite sure why, but the closet in his room had plenty of clothes his size, and he'd learned about laundry machines from the "internet".
And well, maybe he's still used to babysitting Vash, because he makes a point to escort him back to his room. ]
[ Vash makes a choked off little sound as Wolfwood grabs him by the scruff and yanks him down, his arms pinwheeling wildly as he bends backward at an awkward angle to keep from falling ass-first on the floor. He tries to scowl when Wolfwood he finally lets up, but it's more of a pout, at best. He doesn't even think twice about Wolfwood going with him back up to his room.
It takes a lot of getting used to everything around here. Vash has used the machines exactly one time, when he forgot his wet clothes inside of the washer. Some say they're still there to this day. He's been washing his clothes by hand in the tub and hanging them up to dry ever since, but Wolfwood doesn't have to know that. ]
I mean, sure, but... I don't want to waste energy. We should put all our clothes in together.
[ Vash's room is closer than he thinks it ought to be, but he appreciates not having to make a long trek through the hallways, and he gives the wall an appreciative pat. He doesn't know if the house feels it, but he hopes that it understands.
He lets himself into the suite, making a beeline for his room. ] You can get undressed, Wolfwood. I'll give you something from my closet. I think I have some slippers, too...
[ Just guys being pals.
Vash's room is relatively tidy if only because there isn't enough stuff laying around to make a mess. He has multiple pots of red flowers sitting on the windowsill, but almost everything else is already packed into a familiar brown rucksack that sits by the door. Vash crouches over it, pulling out dry clothing and spare towels.
Don't ask why he's still packed as if he'll need to run at any moment. ]
[ Vash, please. Didn't you live on a spaceship, please learn how to use washing machines.
Anyway, Wolfwood thinks this is a silly reason for him to stick around and have to wear Vash's clothes when he has a closet full of clothes in his room, but when he makes to grab the doorknob to let himself out, it doesn't budge.
Like even if he puts a bit of muscle into it.
Lacking the energy to get angry about this, he just sighs and obeys orders, tossing off his jacket and wet shirt before dropping his pants without a semblance of shame. It's not like he hadn't seen Vash shirtless and digging a bullet out of his side back in July. They're both so detached from their bodies that a little bit of skin is hardly enough to elicit any embarrassment.
The wet clothes remain in a soggy pile by the door as he makes his way over to Vash, plucking the towel from his grip while his toes curl against the floor from the chill in the room. ]
It's damn cold in here.
[ Drying his hair with the towel jostles his sunglasses, which he finally deigns to remove and tuck into the side of his briefs, for a lack of better place to hold onto them. ]
You tryna freeze to death?
[ He's got a little frown on his face, but it's not pointed at Vash because he's too busy noisily looking around. The room is... sparse. Which is about what he expected. ]
[ He can use them he just forgets about them. He doesn't have object permanence.
Since the house itself is conspiring unbeknownst to him, Vash finishes fishing out towels and clothes for both of them and tries to get undressed and re-dressed as efficiently as he can. He has to set his glasses aside on the bed, even; they're fogged enough to be useless.
He doesn't really like getting undressed in front of people, but there's nothing really that Wolfwood hasn't already seen and commented on at length. He already sort of knows what Wolfwood looks like undressed, but Vash steals a fleeting, curious glance. It's funny to see him so casual, sunglasses in his briefs and all. ]
It's not usually this cold! Maybe it would help if you put some clothes on.
[ He kicks his favorite bunny slippers over to Wolfwood, for emphasis.
Vash is actually shivering, just a little bit. He might have gotten re-dressed a little too quickly to fully dry off and his arm is definitely still dripping water from all the nooks and crannies, soaking into his shirt sleeve. Every bit of metal on his body seems to soak in the chill.
He wraps his arms around himself, meeting Wolfwood's gaze. He can't remember ever seeing Wolfwood's eyes without his sunglasses in the way; he tries not to stare too much. Wolfwood is already so easy to read, it seems unfair. ]
We should try to find somewhere warmer.
Edited (i'm sorry this is the last time i'm re-writing this tag i should not have done it at 11pm) 2023-05-15 12:29 (UTC)
[ Hello, he is extremely difficult to read. His poker face is immaculate.
Anyway, lies aside, Wolfwood miraculously doesn't grumble or put up a fuss about how he's THE PUNISHER!! as he accepts Vash's clothes, sliding them on with ease and relocating his sunglasses to his newly acquired pocket. The clothes are warmer than he is, and clean, and he tries not to think about soft they are from use.
It's comfortable.
He frowns when he catches Vash's gaze lingering on his face for a discreet, but too long second, wondering if he's supposed to be feeling self-conscious about something. Disaster though he may be, and worn though though his body is, Vash is... presentable. Well kept. Probably attractive to girls like Meryl, if not for the typhoon of misfortune he brings with him.
Wolfwood, on the other hand, is pretty sure he has some patchy stubble that he was too lazy to bother shaving.
Whatever, not like it matters. ]
We're locked in. I tried gettin' out earlier, but the door wouldn't budge. [ He shrugs, welcoming Vash to try if he wants.
But before that: ]
There's no point in changin' if you're gonna let your arm soak your shirt again. Doesn't it come off?
[ Wolfwood looks... comfortable. Vash's clothes fit more closely to his body than his usual rumpled suit and they look - good. On him. Vash considers telling him to just keep the clothes. They definitely don't look like that on his own body. ]
What? [ Yes hi he's paying attention. He's already starting toward the door, and then Wolfwood speaks again and Vash stops so quickly he almost staggers himself. He had intended to take the arm off and deal with it soon enough, just not while Wolfwood was stuck in the room with him. The last thing he wants is to end an otherwise good day with Wolfwood having to see... that again.
He briefly debates trying to find some kind of excuse, but there's nothing Wolfwood wouldn't see through instantly and start kicking up a fuss about. Lacking the energy to start another fight, Vash just sighs, defeated, and goes to root around in his bag some more until he finds a set of screwdrivers. ]
Can you keep trying the door? What's wrong with it? [ Vash doesn't care that much about what exactly is wrong with the door, but he does want to distract Wolfwood while he pulls his shirt off for the second time.
For lack of a better option, he settles on the floor beside his bag and flips it onto the side to use as a makeshift table that he can rest his arm on. He holds one of the screwdrivers between his teeth, and the other slides into the first joint at his wrist. He could take the whole thing off at once, but he needs it all to dry out, so instead it comes off in stages: hand, forearm, then bicep. Vash tries to be quick about this, too. At least it absorbs his attention for a minute or two.
When he's done and everything is laid out, he draws his legs up to his chest and sticks his hand between his thighs to warm his fingers. Wolfwood is still there, still looking Like That. ] No luck?
[ Wolfwood almost does rear up again when Vash suggests that he try the door again. Does he think that Wolfwood is lying? That he doesn't know how to open a door? (Is it because he assumes so many metaphorical ones are closed in his face? Is he being psychoanalyzed right now?)
Anyway, instead of going off the deep end, he does just make his way over to the door with a quiet huff. He supposes it would be bad news if they end up freezing in here because they've been locked in an icebox. Could the house have murderous intentions because Wolfwood is a terrible tenant?
In any case, he jiggles the door handle for a little while longer, trying to see under the crevice at the bottom to see if there's something blocking the door before ultimately giving up.
They can just jump out a window if they end up in dire straits.
He catches the tail end of Vash tinkering with his arm when he turns back, keeping silent until Vash speaks up and then wandering closer again. The battered expanse of his torso is nothing new, but the sight still draws a frown out of him, much clearer in the light of the bedroom.
It ignites a weird protective urge that he wouldn't expect to feel toward anything but the orphanage. Maybe it's his guilt. ]
You need a hand?
[ As in, literally. He assumes that Vash can dress himself with one arm, but also... why isn't he then?
He grabs the shirt without waiting for an answer, holding it over Vash's head so that he can slip it on. ]
[ Vash is about to protest that he's fine, but Wolfwood already has his shirt dangling above his head. He shifts his legs back down and raises his arms obediently, feeling the ghost of movement on his left side well beyond the stub of his upper arm.
He can do it himself, but it's easier this way, and he doesn't really mind all that much. Wolfwood pulls it down over his head for him and tugs the sleeve back around his wrist when he flaps the little sleeve end at him. It's definitely a little more dignified than doing it with his teeth, and it lets Vash catch his wrist before he can move away. ]
Thank you, Wolfwood. [ Vash smiles at him, soft and genuine. For helping, and for not making a big deal of it, too.
He switches his grip and Wolfwood takes the hint to help haul him back up to his feet. Even when he lets go, Vash crowds against his side. Wolfwood probably isn't warm either, but he runs warmer than Vash does. ] If the door's stuck for now, should we get a some blankets? I don't want to break it if we don't have to...
[ 150 years isn't long enough for evolution to take place (much to Conrad's dismay), but Wolfwood does feel like the sweltering heat of Gunsmoke has made them efficient at not retaining heat. Wolfwood has never really had to worry about feeling cold, not even during the blackest nights, before coming to this place. Now he's done research on what warm fabrics are, and sought out those pieces in his closet when he's feeling particularly chilly.
There's no such reprieve here, which is why he doesn't smack Vash away when he noses into his space; agitated by the unfamiliar proximity, but not threatened. ]
Unless you wanna freeze to death. [ He says, instead of remarking on how stupid all of this is.
He could spend some time complaining, but he's cold, and despite the misery of that sensation, he still can't shake the marvel he felt at the sheets of rain falling from the sky. And from having more than one set of clothes to burrow into.
He doesn't know if Vash has other blankets, but he doesn't waste time before unapologetically falling onto Vash's bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and gathering the blankets around him in a cocoon.
And then, he levels Vash with an expectant stare. ]
[ Vash glances around his room, but any other blankets he may have squirreled away have been returned to the common area because I say so. With no other choice, he settles in beside Wolfwood with his back to the headboard.
Vash is a little bit more demure about tucking his legs into Wolfwood's blanket cocoon, but once they're inside he doesn't really hesitate to stick his cold feet up against Wolfwood's calves and shift the stub of his arm out of the way so that he can press as close as possible to Wolfwood's side. Vash, of course, apologizes. His bed is barely big enough to accommodate both of them, no matter how close he presses himself.
He doesn't mind the excuse though; Wolfwood is so warm. Once they've more or less settled, Vash hunches his shoulders a little bit, finally feeling the first pangs of self-consciousness. He feels like he's stealing something. He has nothing to do in the world but lean against Wolfwood's side and listen to the rain come down against the little window, reassuring them that this world has everything it needs. He wonders, not for the first time, what other life there could be for people like them, and if he could ever find a way to deserve it. If Wolfwood would ever let himself have it.
He leans his head back against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling. He thinks if he tries to look Wolfwood in the eye right now, with their faces just a few inches from each other, he'll probably get kicked out of bed. ] You seem happy, Wolfwood. [ Meaning he's barely complained at all. It's unlike him. ] Is it the rain?
[ On one hand, Wolfwood is glad that Vash didn't decide to martyr himself and insist that Wolfwood hoard the bed and blankets while he suffers unnecessarily. He'd been prepared for a fight, so it's a pleasant surprise when Vash wordlessly burrows into the bed next to him.
On the other, the proximity is very awkward. His toes curl self-consciously under the blanket when Vash's feet tuck under his calves, trying to keep himself from growing too tense. The contact is unfamiliar and foreign, but more than tensing up from an instinctual fear of attack, he finds himself resisting the inclination to enjoy it too much.
He tugs the blanket closer around himself, tucking his chin in toward his chest, a frown settling on his face at Vash's question. ]
Who the hell said I was happy?
[ The words are a low grumble, looking for a moment like he's about to flinch away but instead pressing closer to Vash's side. One of his hands creeps to Vash's back, trying to warm up the cold appendages.
Despite his best efforts, he's tense.
Taking a deep breath, ] Wonderin' if this is what the world was like before we all ended up in space, and why... did it end up like this.
[ With his feet now a little bit warmer, Vash draws his knees up to his chest, still leaning fully against Wolfwood's side. He can feel how tense Wolfwood is from the contact, but selfishly he doesn't try to move away. He has false memories of rescuing a kitten here, once. It had hissed and scratched, shaking with tension and rage, but in the end it had just wanted to be warm. He would never say as much to Wolfwood, but Vash thinks he's a little bit like that.
In contrast to Wolfwood, he's completely relaxed, his head listing a little bit against Wolfwood's shoulder. He smells... nice. Much less like cigarettes than Vash would have expected. ]
Who else would have said it? I'm the only one here. [ Vash dares to angle his head up and flash Wolfwood a cheeky little grin.
He shifts just enough to make room for the hand trying to sneak behind his back. He can feel the chill of Wolfwood's hand through the fabric of his shirt, just above the line where it's ridden up. Wolfwood's chest rises with his next breath, and Vash thinks he can feel his heartbeat press up against him, but it's probably all in his head.
It's only when Wolfwood speaks that he tenses for the first time. Suddenly, he feels trapped, his heart hammering. His breathing is still slow and even, but only because Vash is controlling it carefully. He makes himself relax the way he makes himself smile sometimes.
Because of me, he ought to say. It was exactly like this, and I destroyed our hope. I destroyed your chance at this life.
He ought to confess.
Vash swallows, his mouth moving for a moment with no sound, and then he turns his face further toward Wolfwood's shoulder. He just wants another minute. Another second of this. ] What would you do, if you knew?
[ Wolfwood keeps himself distracted so to keep from dwelling on the very physical and very present reality of the situation that he's found himself in. So that he doesn't try to catalogue each point that they meet between flesh and metal. And so that he doesn't wonder how long it's been since since he was pressed so casually against another person without intent to harm lurking under his skin, because it hasn't been that long at all.
Roberto's jeep had been roomy, but not so roomy that Vash and Wolfwood hadn't bumped limbs in the backseat as they lounged in the heat. Granted, he'd been deceiving Vash then, actions all wrapped up in betrayal.
So maybe this is the first time in some long years after all.
His attention is drawn back when Vash's demeanour shifts, near imperceptibly if not for how close they are. His voice is as soft as ever, but it still feels different. ]
Ain't thought that far. [ He's not thinking along the same lines as Vash, so he's not quite sure what might be bothering him, dismayed that something might've overtaken his previous cheek, even if it had been at his expense.
He glances at him out of the corner of his eye before looking ahead again, thoughtful. ]
They must've been pretty smart if they had all that tech before they went into space. If they couldn't figure out how to keep their planet from dyin' maybe there ain't anything anyone can do.
[ He can feel Wolfwood's gaze on him, but Vash keeps his eyes downcast. He can usually read Wolfwood, but it goes both ways, and at the moment he doesn't trust himself to look at Wolfwood and not break down in confession. He's not even a priest, so Vash doesn't understand what it is about Wolfwood that always makes him want to be honest, even when it's ugly.
He bites into his lower lip, worrying at it. He can feel Wolfwood's voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks, and somehow he's not surprised that Wolfwood has found the worst possible outcome to brood over.
Maybe he won't confess this time, Vash decides. Guilt can eat him alive, but he wants to be selfish, just this once. ]
Maybe it was too late when they understood how precious it was but... [ Vash rolls his head back against Wolfwood's shoulder to look up at him. ] I don't think it always has to be that way. Maybe this time, the story can be different.
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Vash at least attempts to keep his dripping confined to the single welcome mat, but he does look up in time to see Wolfwood's shoes get thrown back at him. Vash makes an undignified sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. Normally, he'd be holding up his hands in a placating gesture toward Wolfwood already, but instead Vash flashes him a stupid little grin. What is Wolfwood going to do about it?
Maybe Vash is a little punch drunk on seeing him so relaxed. Wolfwood had always seemed to think he'd never be able to lay his cross down, but here... Vash wonders. ]
Maybe we can find somewhere to leave our things to dry? I've seen fire...places. [ It takes him a moment to remember the word, but those false memories are handy. ] I'm pretty sure there's one this way... [ Vash has already started wandering off. ]
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He reaches out to grab Vash by the back of his coat before he can wander off too far, pulling him down when he bends over to retrieve his shoes before continuing further into the house. ]
Don't you have more than one more of clothes? Just get changed and throw the wet ones in one of those machines.
[ To be fair, if they were still on Gunsmoke, they'd likely have to strip and leave their clothes to dry in the sun. Wolfwood has no idea what Vash carries in that pack of his, but he'd never had room for anything more than Punisher as a traveling companion. He was lucky if he managed to hold onto a bottle of water for more than three days.
But now, they live luxuriously. He's not quite sure why, but the closet in his room had plenty of clothes his size, and he'd learned about laundry machines from the "internet".
And well, maybe he's still used to babysitting Vash, because he makes a point to escort him back to his room. ]
You know how to use 'em, right?
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It takes a lot of getting used to everything around here. Vash has used the machines exactly one time, when he forgot his wet clothes inside of the washer. Some say they're still there to this day. He's been washing his clothes by hand in the tub and hanging them up to dry ever since, but Wolfwood doesn't have to know that. ]
I mean, sure, but... I don't want to waste energy. We should put all our clothes in together.
[ Vash's room is closer than he thinks it ought to be, but he appreciates not having to make a long trek through the hallways, and he gives the wall an appreciative pat. He doesn't know if the house feels it, but he hopes that it understands.
He lets himself into the suite, making a beeline for his room. ] You can get undressed, Wolfwood. I'll give you something from my closet. I think I have some slippers, too...
[ Just guys being pals.
Vash's room is relatively tidy if only because there isn't enough stuff laying around to make a mess. He has multiple pots of red flowers sitting on the windowsill, but almost everything else is already packed into a familiar brown rucksack that sits by the door. Vash crouches over it, pulling out dry clothing and spare towels.
Don't ask why he's still packed as if he'll need to run at any moment. ]
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Anyway, Wolfwood thinks this is a silly reason for him to stick around and have to wear Vash's clothes when he has a closet full of clothes in his room, but when he makes to grab the doorknob to let himself out, it doesn't budge.
Like even if he puts a bit of muscle into it.
Lacking the energy to get angry about this, he just sighs and obeys orders, tossing off his jacket and wet shirt before dropping his pants without a semblance of shame. It's not like he hadn't seen Vash shirtless and digging a bullet out of his side back in July. They're both so detached from their bodies that a little bit of skin is hardly enough to elicit any embarrassment.
The wet clothes remain in a soggy pile by the door as he makes his way over to Vash, plucking the towel from his grip while his toes curl against the floor from the chill in the room. ]
It's damn cold in here.
[ Drying his hair with the towel jostles his sunglasses, which he finally deigns to remove and tuck into the side of his briefs, for a lack of better place to hold onto them. ]
You tryna freeze to death?
[ He's got a little frown on his face, but it's not pointed at Vash because he's too busy noisily looking around. The room is... sparse. Which is about what he expected. ]
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Since the house itself is conspiring unbeknownst to him, Vash finishes fishing out towels and clothes for both of them and tries to get undressed and re-dressed as efficiently as he can. He has to set his glasses aside on the bed, even; they're fogged enough to be useless.
He doesn't really like getting undressed in front of people, but there's nothing really that Wolfwood hasn't already seen and commented on at length. He already sort of knows what Wolfwood looks like undressed, but Vash steals a fleeting, curious glance. It's funny to see him so casual, sunglasses in his briefs and all. ]
It's not usually this cold! Maybe it would help if you put some clothes on.
[ He kicks his favorite bunny slippers over to Wolfwood, for emphasis.
Vash is actually shivering, just a little bit. He might have gotten re-dressed a little too quickly to fully dry off and his arm is definitely still dripping water from all the nooks and crannies, soaking into his shirt sleeve. Every bit of metal on his body seems to soak in the chill.
He wraps his arms around himself, meeting Wolfwood's gaze. He can't remember ever seeing Wolfwood's eyes without his sunglasses in the way; he tries not to stare too much. Wolfwood is already so easy to read, it seems unfair. ]
We should try to find somewhere warmer.
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Anyway, lies aside, Wolfwood miraculously doesn't grumble or put up a fuss about how he's THE PUNISHER!! as he accepts Vash's clothes, sliding them on with ease and relocating his sunglasses to his newly acquired pocket. The clothes are warmer than he is, and clean, and he tries not to think about soft they are from use.
It's comfortable.
He frowns when he catches Vash's gaze lingering on his face for a discreet, but too long second, wondering if he's supposed to be feeling self-conscious about something. Disaster though he may be, and worn though though his body is, Vash is... presentable. Well kept. Probably attractive to girls like Meryl, if not for the typhoon of misfortune he brings with him.
Wolfwood, on the other hand, is pretty sure he has some patchy stubble that he was too lazy to bother shaving.
Whatever, not like it matters. ]
We're locked in. I tried gettin' out earlier, but the door wouldn't budge. [ He shrugs, welcoming Vash to try if he wants.
But before that: ]
There's no point in changin' if you're gonna let your arm soak your shirt again. Doesn't it come off?
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What? [ Yes hi he's paying attention. He's already starting toward the door, and then Wolfwood speaks again and Vash stops so quickly he almost staggers himself. He had intended to take the arm off and deal with it soon enough, just not while Wolfwood was stuck in the room with him. The last thing he wants is to end an otherwise good day with Wolfwood having to see... that again.
He briefly debates trying to find some kind of excuse, but there's nothing Wolfwood wouldn't see through instantly and start kicking up a fuss about. Lacking the energy to start another fight, Vash just sighs, defeated, and goes to root around in his bag some more until he finds a set of screwdrivers. ]
Can you keep trying the door? What's wrong with it? [ Vash doesn't care that much about what exactly is wrong with the door, but he does want to distract Wolfwood while he pulls his shirt off for the second time.
For lack of a better option, he settles on the floor beside his bag and flips it onto the side to use as a makeshift table that he can rest his arm on. He holds one of the screwdrivers between his teeth, and the other slides into the first joint at his wrist. He could take the whole thing off at once, but he needs it all to dry out, so instead it comes off in stages: hand, forearm, then bicep. Vash tries to be quick about this, too. At least it absorbs his attention for a minute or two.
When he's done and everything is laid out, he draws his legs up to his chest and sticks his hand between his thighs to warm his fingers. Wolfwood is still there, still looking Like That. ] No luck?
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Anyway, instead of going off the deep end, he does just make his way over to the door with a quiet huff. He supposes it would be bad news if they end up freezing in here because they've been locked in an icebox. Could the house have murderous intentions because Wolfwood is a terrible tenant?
In any case, he jiggles the door handle for a little while longer, trying to see under the crevice at the bottom to see if there's something blocking the door before ultimately giving up.
They can just jump out a window if they end up in dire straits.
He catches the tail end of Vash tinkering with his arm when he turns back, keeping silent until Vash speaks up and then wandering closer again. The battered expanse of his torso is nothing new, but the sight still draws a frown out of him, much clearer in the light of the bedroom.
It ignites a weird protective urge that he wouldn't expect to feel toward anything but the orphanage. Maybe it's his guilt. ]
You need a hand?
[ As in, literally. He assumes that Vash can dress himself with one arm, but also... why isn't he then?
He grabs the shirt without waiting for an answer, holding it over Vash's head so that he can slip it on. ]
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He can do it himself, but it's easier this way, and he doesn't really mind all that much. Wolfwood pulls it down over his head for him and tugs the sleeve back around his wrist when he flaps the little sleeve end at him. It's definitely a little more dignified than doing it with his teeth, and it lets Vash catch his wrist before he can move away. ]
Thank you, Wolfwood. [ Vash smiles at him, soft and genuine. For helping, and for not making a big deal of it, too.
He switches his grip and Wolfwood takes the hint to help haul him back up to his feet. Even when he lets go, Vash crowds against his side. Wolfwood probably isn't warm either, but he runs warmer than Vash does. ] If the door's stuck for now, should we get a some blankets? I don't want to break it if we don't have to...
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There's no such reprieve here, which is why he doesn't smack Vash away when he noses into his space; agitated by the unfamiliar proximity, but not threatened. ]
Unless you wanna freeze to death. [ He says, instead of remarking on how stupid all of this is.
He could spend some time complaining, but he's cold, and despite the misery of that sensation, he still can't shake the marvel he felt at the sheets of rain falling from the sky. And from having more than one set of clothes to burrow into.
He doesn't know if Vash has other blankets, but he doesn't waste time before unapologetically falling onto Vash's bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and gathering the blankets around him in a cocoon.
And then, he levels Vash with an expectant stare. ]
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Vash is a little bit more demure about tucking his legs into Wolfwood's blanket cocoon, but once they're inside he doesn't really hesitate to stick his cold feet up against Wolfwood's calves and shift the stub of his arm out of the way so that he can press as close as possible to Wolfwood's side. Vash, of course, apologizes. His bed is barely big enough to accommodate both of them, no matter how close he presses himself.
He doesn't mind the excuse though; Wolfwood is so warm. Once they've more or less settled, Vash hunches his shoulders a little bit, finally feeling the first pangs of self-consciousness. He feels like he's stealing something. He has nothing to do in the world but lean against Wolfwood's side and listen to the rain come down against the little window, reassuring them that this world has everything it needs. He wonders, not for the first time, what other life there could be for people like them, and if he could ever find a way to deserve it. If Wolfwood would ever let himself have it.
He leans his head back against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling. He thinks if he tries to look Wolfwood in the eye right now, with their faces just a few inches from each other, he'll probably get kicked out of bed. ] You seem happy, Wolfwood. [ Meaning he's barely complained at all. It's unlike him. ] Is it the rain?
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On the other, the proximity is very awkward. His toes curl self-consciously under the blanket when Vash's feet tuck under his calves, trying to keep himself from growing too tense. The contact is unfamiliar and foreign, but more than tensing up from an instinctual fear of attack, he finds himself resisting the inclination to enjoy it too much.
He tugs the blanket closer around himself, tucking his chin in toward his chest, a frown settling on his face at Vash's question. ]
Who the hell said I was happy?
[ The words are a low grumble, looking for a moment like he's about to flinch away but instead pressing closer to Vash's side. One of his hands creeps to Vash's back, trying to warm up the cold appendages.
Despite his best efforts, he's tense.
Taking a deep breath, ] Wonderin' if this is what the world was like before we all ended up in space, and why... did it end up like this.
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In contrast to Wolfwood, he's completely relaxed, his head listing a little bit against Wolfwood's shoulder. He smells... nice. Much less like cigarettes than Vash would have expected. ]
Who else would have said it? I'm the only one here. [ Vash dares to angle his head up and flash Wolfwood a cheeky little grin.
He shifts just enough to make room for the hand trying to sneak behind his back. He can feel the chill of Wolfwood's hand through the fabric of his shirt, just above the line where it's ridden up. Wolfwood's chest rises with his next breath, and Vash thinks he can feel his heartbeat press up against him, but it's probably all in his head.
It's only when Wolfwood speaks that he tenses for the first time. Suddenly, he feels trapped, his heart hammering. His breathing is still slow and even, but only because Vash is controlling it carefully. He makes himself relax the way he makes himself smile sometimes.
Because of me, he ought to say. It was exactly like this, and I destroyed our hope. I destroyed your chance at this life.
He ought to confess.
Vash swallows, his mouth moving for a moment with no sound, and then he turns his face further toward Wolfwood's shoulder. He just wants another minute. Another second of this. ] What would you do, if you knew?
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Roberto's jeep had been roomy, but not so roomy that Vash and Wolfwood hadn't bumped limbs in the backseat as they lounged in the heat. Granted, he'd been deceiving Vash then, actions all wrapped up in betrayal.
So maybe this is the first time in some long years after all.
His attention is drawn back when Vash's demeanour shifts, near imperceptibly if not for how close they are. His voice is as soft as ever, but it still feels different. ]
Ain't thought that far. [ He's not thinking along the same lines as Vash, so he's not quite sure what might be bothering him, dismayed that something might've overtaken his previous cheek, even if it had been at his expense.
He glances at him out of the corner of his eye before looking ahead again, thoughtful. ]
They must've been pretty smart if they had all that tech before they went into space. If they couldn't figure out how to keep their planet from dyin' maybe there ain't anything anyone can do.
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He bites into his lower lip, worrying at it. He can feel Wolfwood's voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks, and somehow he's not surprised that Wolfwood has found the worst possible outcome to brood over.
Maybe he won't confess this time, Vash decides. Guilt can eat him alive, but he wants to be selfish, just this once. ]
Maybe it was too late when they understood how precious it was but... [ Vash rolls his head back against Wolfwood's shoulder to look up at him. ] I don't think it always has to be that way. Maybe this time, the story can be different.