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Wolfwood likes to think he’s a man that doesn’t back down from a challenge. Even small or petty ones, simple bets, things up to chance that he thinks he might be able to shift his way if clever enough. Little things between him and Vash are more on the smaller side, little bets to help break up their journey across the desert. He had one rule from the very beginning: nothing to do with Angelina. Their current game skirts that rule but stays true to the spirit which is simply ‘don’t fuck up the bike’. If they don’t have wheels this little pilgrimage gets a whole lot longer.
This time he may have bitten off more than he could chew. There’s probably a lesson about ego in this whole thing but he’s too focused on driving to try and dole out some sort of deep proverb. He’s holding the handlebars tight enough for his knuckles to pale and they’re going to be sore from clenching them that way for so long. If he doesn’t cramp up first. He’s sweating enough to make the whole of his shirt damp and he’s barely keeping his foot steady on the shifter.
Vash the fucking Stampede is in the side car and despite how it’s a little cramped for his long legs he seems to be having a perfectly fine day. Nick has to wonder if he could unlatch the car and send him tumbling through the desert while still keeping the bike upright. He only gets more tempted the longer they drive. They’ve only been traveling for a little more than an hour and he may need to throw in the towel already.
You won’t last the morning, Vash had stated. Nick knew from the start that it was phrased as something he couldn’t do for a reason, so his pride would do the agreeing for him. So Vash, with a stupidly large grin, opened him up with his fingers and put this— thing up inside him. Why did he have to be so damn egotistical with this shit? Should work just fine, the blonde assured, toy-sized remote in his hand. Something he had fucking made just for this exact purpose of slowly driving Wolfwood insane. He didn’t even know when the blonde had the time to go tinkering with sex toys of all things.
Between his legs is soaked and he knows damn well that it isn’t due to sweat. Vash keeps messing with the remote like he can’t decide what to do with it. The vibrations of it along with Angelina’s natural purr have him wishing—for the first time ever—that he was obsessive over a car instead of a motorcycle.
Wolfwood is nowhere near steady enough for it but he’s desperate for some kind of relief, lifting one hand away from the steering wheel to grind his palm down against his clit right through his pants. Before he can do it more than once, pain erupts after a harsh pinch is delivered to his thigh. He tries not to think of the sound he makes as a yelp but it comes dangerously close, bike swerving with his surprise before he grips both handlebars with a low growl.
“That’s cheating,” Vash calls from the sidecar, over the wind. Nick is so incredibly tempted to use the leg he pinched to kick him right in the face. “You’re doing pretty good, only about two hours to go!”
No. Nope. It’s not happening. He needs a white flag or something to wave. He can’t do it, engaging the brakes to bring them to a sliding stop in the sand. He hopes Vash hits his stupid bony knees on the front of the sidecar. Once they’re stopped he only half remembers to cut the engine so they aren’t idling in the middle of nowhere before bowing over to cross his arms over the fuel tank and thump his head down on them with a long, low groan.
“Wolfwood? Are you doing alright?”
“G’fuck’yrself,” Nick moans, legs unsteady where he’s still keeping the bike upright. He doesn’t think he could stand even if he wanted to. Can’t move at all, stuck grinding down against his seat and defiling his own motorcycle. He thought it would be easier with the bike off but now he has the attention to spare on exactly how unsteady he feels, how shudders keep working through his frame like he’s coming apart at the seams.
Vash moves and he isn't even aware of it until a hand starts running up and down his back. Nick wants to swat at him because he's not a baby to soothe… but it's actually pretty nice and he can almost convince some strength back into his legs.
"D’you wanna give up?”
That is it . Wolfwood snaps upward and tries to swing over the seat at the same time as he’s throwing a punch at the gunman. He doesn’t come close, legs immediately buckling. Vash catches him before he hits the ground and Nick can’t decide if he’s relieved or furious, but he clings to the man’s stupid red coat anyway. Apparently he still has the remote in-hand because the toy suddenly ramps up and Wolfwood half-muffles his sharp cry into his shoulder.
“Fuck off! Fine! Turn this damn thing off, Needles!”
Vash hums in a sing-song way and Nick is going to break his fingers on the man’s jaw. It’s going to happen, just as soon as he has control over his limbs. He’s pulled up against the blonde by an arm around his waist, solid against his back—the prosthetic one, then.
“Pretty sure there were some magic words along with this particular wager.”
“I hate you,” Wolfwood bites out.
“Pretty sure those weren’t them.”
A long shudder starts at Nick’s shoulders and works down, leading him to thump his head down on the other man’s shoulder. He doesn’t even know how he managed to walk out of their hotel this morning, much less stayed upright on the bike for as long as he did. His ego feels threadbare at best so he finally lets it go, for now.
“You were right.”
He expects Vash to ask him to say it louder than the croak he had managed but he doesn’t, toy turning off. Nick groans in relief. He doesn’t know where the remote goes but it’s gone when the other man combs his fingers through his hair enough to hold and lead him into a domineering kiss. Wolfwood goes along with it with a short moan, trying to pull pieces of his mind back together so he can possibly do more than shake sometime in the future.
Vash kisses like they’ve been apart for a year and not right beside each other for months. It temporarily makes Nick forget they’re standing in the middle of nowhere in the desert, his pants sticking to his thighs. Eventually Vash gives his lip a nip strong enough to hurt before parting to stand up straight.
“Alright, lean over.”
Nick blinks at him, trying to keep up with the sudden change. “What?”
The blonde’s grin is a little too wide to be comfortable.
“Well I have to get it out of you, obviously. ”
“We’re—in the desert, Needles.”
“Which is exactly why I didn’t say ‘lay down’, right?”
Vash decides he isn’t moving quite as fast as he’d like and takes hold of his waist, turning him around before leaning over to guide him to rest his forearms on the rear fender. Nick lets his head hang down, trying not to think about his current predicament and sending up a silent prayer that no other travelers happen to come this exact way through the desert.
His pants and soaked shorts are both pulled down to his thighs in one quick move, Vash keeping a hand on his hip to help him stay on his feet. It’s probably unwise, but Nick locks his knees, trying to focus on breathing. It becomes more difficult when Vash lowers his free hand, fingers sliding slick along the soaked lips of his slit.
“Wow, pretty effective huh?”
Wolfwood aims a kick at him but it’s half hearted and is simply sidestepped anyway. It earns him a laugh, light and airy like Vash expected nothing else. His fingers move to the apex, rubbing just above his clit before he holds it between two and uses his thumb to swirl circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Nick all but screams , a sharp and wordless cry leaving him. After half the morning was dedicated to teasing him to a ridiculous degree he isn’t able to hold back, cumming by the third time Vash does whatever he does with his fingers. He shakes and moans, one hand reaching for the seat so he has something to dig his fingers into without scratching Angelina’s paint more than the desert has already made it more matte than anything else. She doesn’t deserve this abuse. He only stays on his feet because of the hand on his hip and his own locked knees.
Distantly, he’s aware of Vash giving one of those sunny laughs, soothing down his thigh as Wolfwood comes back down to reality with an unsteady moan.
“Good boy,” his partner all but purrs. Nick doesn’t feel steady enough to do more than make a faint noise to show he’s heard.
Before long Vash moves back to his slit, two fingers pushing between and spreading open the folds of his wet cunt. He runs those fingers up and down to ensure they’re slick before starting to press inside. Wolfwood makes another soft noise, feeling overstimulated after the morning he’s had and the orgasm pulled from him just moments ago.
The blonde leans over him, able to rest his chin on his shoulder with his height. His voice is soft and soothing in the way it usually only gets in the bedroom when they’re playing this sort of game, but Wolfwood supposes they’ve simply brought the bedroom outside.
“You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of how long you were able to hold out.”
Nick bites at his lip to keep quiet. Vash had learned early on in this whatever-they’re-doing what praise does to him and hasn’t left it alone since. His fingers press in their full length and start moving around, exploring for the toy he’d put there earlier. Wolfwood thinks he’s close, can remember how it felt like it might vibrate out of him at some points of their drive.
“Bear down for me,” comes the murmur and so he does, an odd sort of push using muscles he hasn’t thought about in ages. Not like that, anyway. Vash makes a quiet sound of triumph and Wolfwood can feel him pressing the toy to one side inside him, then how his fingers curl to pull it out.
“There we are,” he soothes, tucking it somewhere Nick doesn’t give a shit because at least it’s out of him. Wolfwood can vaguely hear Vash shuffling, adjusting before he reaches to wrap both arms around his chest and pull him upright to lean against him.
“You look so good like this, Wolfwood. Think you can handle a little more?”
He’s tempted to tell him to go fuck himself again, but everything has him in a tired but more agreeable mood. So he nods, tilting his head when Vash presses a happy little hum into his neck. He starts kissing there while one of his hands pulls away, this time Nick can feel and hear him working at buttons or buckles on his clothing. After a moment Vash gives a relieved little groan and Nick can feel the heat of his length against him.
“D’you want to stay standing or lean over again?”
If Nick wants to be able to drive them any further today he’s going to have to disgrace Angelina a bit more. The blonde can reach a little too deep to be comfortable when they do this standing up and he doesn’t have an entire night of sleep to recover.
“Over,” he murmurs, so Vash guides him back down and moves his hair away from the back of his neck to place a kiss there. Wolfwood huffs a little at the softness, head bowing so he can hide his face. The blonde seems to accept it for now, running his hands down his sides to hold at his hips again.
Vash slides into him slowly, always so damn careful with him in this. Wolfwood had told him at the start he wasn’t some delicate thing that needed careful handling lest he go and break. At the time Vash had hummed and given him a kiss before telling him that this was one area they could let themselves be soft in, so why not enjoy it? He has to admit that it’s grown on him over time.
When he’s fully seated Vash pauses, letting out a shaky sort of exhale. Wolfwood shifts to get used to the full feeling he has whenever they do this, how his cock stretches him open. It’s not pain but a pleasant sort of ache, eased by how wet he’d been before they even started.
“Okay?” Vash asks, lips trailing over his neck. Nick nods and even shifts himself back against him with a soft moan, urging him to move—he takes the hint, squeezing his hips before pulling back and pressing in at the start of a slow but steadily increasing pace.
Wolfwood’s hands are shaking already, each press a reminder of how sensitive the toy has left him. It feels good in a way he hadn’t expected, nerves feeling as if they’re sparking every time the other man’s cock runs over them. It’s like his clit is throbbing, wanting for pleasure to match what he’s getting inside. He isn’t sure he can keep himself steady on only one arm and expects he might break his nose on the fender if he tries.
“Blondie,” he manages through a moan, breaths starting to edge towards unsteadiness. “Touch me?”
Vash hums in his ear, one hand sliding from his hip to spread his fingers over his abdomen. He thrusts deep and grinds there to focus on his own words instead of how tight Nick is around him. “Do you think you’ve been good enough?”
Wolfwood tries to convince himself that the noise that leaves him is not a whimper. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but the words draw a shudder from him and he briefly tightens around the cock spreading him open. He nods, trying to steady his breath because he knows exactly what Vash is going to do:
“Tell me,” spoken softly, and there is no way Nick is going to be able to pull himself together enough to obey. Still, he tries, Vash easing back into movement and keeping his thrusts slow but deep which do absolutely nothing to help him accomplish the task at hand.
His mouth moves but he can’t bring the words from his mind past his throat, only shuddering from the shoulders and down. He shakes his head—wasn’t ready for this sort of game outside the privacy of a room or at the very least a camp they’ve made for the night.
“Y-yellow,” he just barely manages instead. They both have words, but sometimes it feels like Nick uses his a lot more often, not able to push things as often as his partner might like. He worried about it at first, but they’ve spent maybe too many nights talking about it that he tries to leave that concern behind. Vash eases into movement that’s little more than gentle rocking, running a hand up and down Wolfwood’s back.
“That’s okay. Easy, I’m right here.” An assurance and something soothing all in one and despite how on edge he feels it helps him take a steadying breath. Nick nods and his partner kisses at his neck again.
“You want to keep going?”
Wolfwood nods again and Vash murmurs something soft and sweet in his ear before starting to move. That hand that had been at his middle eases down, sliding over the lips of his cunt as a sort of warning before moving back up to circle his clit. It’s not nearly as shocking as how he’d touched him earlier, pleasurable and helping him climb to his peak rather than throwing him there.
Vash groans, rhythm picking up to where they’d left off before, no longer teasing now that Wolfwood has hit his soft limit; now he works to get both of them off, sooner rather than later. Nick starts to pick up his own moans as he loses himself in the feeling, Vash over his back and thrusting inside of him, fingers drawing his peak closer and closer.
“Tongari, I’m—“
“Go ahead,” he encourages right in his ear, fingers moving faster around his clit or rubbing directly over it, thrusts getting more and more unsteady. “Let me see you.”
Wolfwood chokes on anything else he might have said, words pushing him over that ledge. He cums shaking, sounding out another wordless cry as he feels himself tighten down on the cock inside him, his own slick trailing down his thighs. He shakes through it, that cry drowning out into a long few moans as his peak is drawn out longer with the blonde’s continued thrusts.
Vash bites out a curse, hands returning to the preacher’s hips.
“Wolfwood, close—where?”
Nick is still working through the aftershocks of that last orgasm, scraping enough of his mind together to know that he doesn’t want to be leaking cum all day. Not while he’s trying to drive across a vast nothing with only that to truly focus on. Never mind what it will do to his clothes.
“Mouth,” he groans, and both of them move in a familiar shift. Vash pulls out of him and hauls him upright, then Wolfwood turns before dropping down to his knees in the sand. The blonde waits until he’s ready, one hand in Nick’s hair while the other strokes at his cock. Wolfwood is still a bit hazy but tucks his thumb under his fingers, squeezing down on it while opening his mouth.
Vash pulls his head forward and thrusts between his lips all in one move, Wolfwood’s eyes tearing up a bit with how far he reaches down his throat. The gunman moans, grinding deep for a moment before pulling back to push in again. It doesn’t take long, perhaps half a dozen thrusts before he’s pressing deep again to come down Nick’s throat. He doesn’t linger there long, pulling out once he’s fed the preacher his cum, shots so deep that he doesn’t have a choice on swallowing or not.
He kneels and tugs Nick into a messy kiss, little more than lust and want . They only separate when they need to breathe, both panting as they come back down from their mutual high.
“You did so good,” Vash all but gushes, placing light kisses all over his cheeks and jaw. “So good for me, Wolfwood.”
Nick lets himself get lost in the continued praise, leaning into the blonde’s supporting hands. Vash will eventually get them back on their feet, as cleaned up as possible with whatever supplies they have packed, and then Wolfwood will somehow manage to get them traveling on the road again. Just as soon as he can scrape his brain into a bucket to function.