Archive of Our Own ^beta

Squish.

Squish.

POP.

Squish.

Squish.

POP.

Wolfwood deserves a medal for putting up with this shit.

There are many downsides to travelling with Vash the Stampede. An abundance of bullets; a truly unfortunate number of bounty hunters; enough spilled blood to make a surgeon blush. And yet.

And yet, nothing has set Wolfwood's teeth on edge, made his nerves scrunch up and yowl like an angry cat, quite like Vash's fucking gum.

Squish.

POP.

"Needle Noggin', if you don't spit that gum out right now, I'm gonna pull over and dump you by the side of the road."

"Huh?" Vash turns to him from his seat in Angelina's sidecar, eyes wide and innocent. The effect is slightly ruined by the bright blue bubble he's currently blowing, exploding with another obnoxious POP.

"Don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what you're doin'," Wolfwood keeps his eyes fixed on the road in front of him, but really, his attention is on Vash. Vash, with his stupid gum and his stupid chewing noises and his stupid sticky lips. "Spit it out. Now."

"But Wolfwood! It still tastes like strawberry!"

"Don't care. I'm drivin', you're distractin' me, and if we crash and die 'cos of your stupid bubblegum habit, I'll kill you again myself."

Vash pouts, but his lips are still pursed. There's still a film of plasticky blue goo webbed between them. He's still blowing a bubble, getting larger and larger, and if it pops again it might just take Wolfwood's sanity with it -

There's a pause on a knife's edge, where Vash seems to debate just how far he should push his friend today. Eventually, he sighs, letting the bubble deflate instead of popping it. His tongue darts out to pull the gum back into his mouth.

"Alright, fine. I won't blow bubbles anymore. Lemme keep the gum though, please? Pretty please? It's so boring just sitting here -"

"No. The chewin' is bad enough. Just spit it out already!"

"No!"

"Spikey, I swear -"

"C'mon, Wolfwood! It's meant to be bad for the environment to spit your gum on the ground. You don't want me to hurt the environment, do you?"

"What 'environment'? It's just desert!"

"It's a very delicate ecosystem," Vash says with a sniff. He passes the gum from one side of his mouth to the other, and Wolfwood can hear it, the sound wet and god damn distracting. "I'm not spitting it out, and I'm guessing you don't want me to stick it to the sidecar -"

"If you get any gum on Angelina, you're dead meat."

"See! So I don't have a choice but to keep it in my mouth, do I?"

Wolfwood lets out a frustrated sigh, tightening his grip on the bike. Vash seems to know he's won, judging by his grin and the way he flicks his tongue around the gum, all self-satisfied smugness. It's infuriating. It makes Wolfwood want to pull over, pry his stupid lips apart and -

"Hey, do you want some? Might be less annoying if you're chewing, too."

He shakes away his daydream (probably for the best) and glances quickly at Vash, offering up a stick of gum. "You kiddin'? That stuff's disgusting. I dunno how you stand it."

"But it tastes like strawberries, Wolfwood. Strawberries! D'you know how hard it is to find strawberries on this planet?"

"First of all, no it doesn't. I've had strawberries before, and I've had that damn gum, and they do not taste the same. Second, do you know how bad that stuff is for ya? If you swallow it, it's meant to take seven years for it to pass through your system -"

"That's a myth."

"Still. It's not good for you."

"Wolfwood. Wolfwood."

Wolfwood doesn't need to look at Vash to know what expression he's making. He can picture it perfectly: eyebrows raised, mouth set, staring pointedly at the pack of cigarettes in Wolfwood's blazer pocket. And fuck him if he doesn't have a point.

"That's different," he argues back anyway. "At least cigarettes actually taste good."

"You think cigarettes taste good, but my bubblegum doesn't?" Vash actually sounds scandalised, shaking his head in disappointment. "There's something wrong with you."

"There's something wrong with you. Besides, I've never seen you with a cigarette before, so ya shouldn't knock it 'til you try it -"

"I've smoked a cigarette before."

For a moment, the image flashes in front of Wolfwood's mind, superseding the road in front of him - Vash's lips curved around the filter of a cigarette, blue eyes watching him through a wreath of smoke. His hand slips on the handlebar, making them swerve on the (mercifully empty) road, before he gets hold of himself again.

"Whoa! Hey hey, watch what you're doing -"

"I got it, Spikey, I got it. And you have, huh?"

"Have what?"

Wolfwood feels like he's gonna regret continuing this conversation, but he can't stop his mouth from moving. "Smoked a cigarette before."

"Oh. Well, yeah. I've been around for a while. Of course I've smoked a cigarette before," Vash rolls his eyes. He smacks the gum against his lips one more time, almost thoughtfully, before saying, "It's how I got started on the gum, actually. Helped me quit. It's a good distraction - having something to do with my mouth."

Wolfwood is a gentleman. He definitely isn't thinking of anything more productive Vash could be doing with his mouth.

"'S that so."

"Mhm. I still smoke every now and then, though. Usually when I'm really, really drunk."

"That doesn't sound like quittin' to me."

"Oh come on. Like you're in any position to judge."

Wolfwood laughs, but doesn't respond. Mostly because Vash has a point. Even this conversation is making him fidget, viciously aware of the weight of the cigarettes in his pocket. He wonders if Vash would be OK with a smoke break. He wonders if Vash would ever want to share a cigarette. He wonders a lot of things.

"Think it's about time for a pit stop. You wanna stretch your legs?"

"Oh, thank god. I thought you'd never ask."

He grins, bringing Angelina to a stop near a quiet stretch of road. This far into the desert, there's nothing to see but sand in all directions, the twin suns beating down on them like hothouse lamps. No people, either - they haven't seen anyone else on the road for a good twenty iles. All in all, it means there's nothing to distract Wolfwood as he dismounts, tapping out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth -

Well. Nothing except for Vash, casually plucking the cigarette from between his lips.

"Wha - hey!"

"I've got an idea," Vash says, and it instantly sets Wolfwood on edge. He's heard those words from Vash before, in that exact tone of voice, and it usually means something's gonna explode in the next five seconds. "How about we swap?"

"...Huh?"

Vash spins the cigarette between his fingers, the motion practiced, graceful. "I've told you before - you smoke too much. And since you were so concerned about my health before, I figured I would return the favour. So, how about this? I smoke this cigarette for you. And you chew a stick of gum for me, just to see if it takes the edge off. That sound fair?"

The look on Vash's face is... unique. He's got the same cajoling, shit-eating grin on his face as usual, but his eyes are different. They're intense, focused entirely on Wolfwood, and looking at them is like staring into two blazing blue suns. It takes him a moment to unstick his throat and respond.

"You kidding? I've told you before, I'm not lookin' to quit. Something's gotta kill me eventually, and it might as well be these things."

"I'm not asking you to quit, I'm just asking you to try it and see if it works. C'mon! You might like it."

He dangles the cigarette in front of Wolfwood's face, just out of reach. If Wolfwood really tries, he could just reach out and grab it. He knows that, in the same way he knows Vash would let him get away with it. But the look on his face is a challenge, and Wolfwood realises with a jolt that he still has the gum in his mouth when he swipes it between his lips, a hint of tongue showing through -

"Ugh, fucking... fucking fine, if it'll getcha off my back. But if I still want a smoke after this, I'm havin' one, OK?"

Vash's answering grin is dazzling. This close, Wolfwood can see how the points of his canines dig into his bottom lip. "Perfect."

He fumbles through his coat pockets until he finds the packet of gum, passing it to Wolfwood. It's warm from baking under the sun, sugar-sticky and sweet, and Wolfwood takes it with all the enthusiasm of a dead fish. Ugh, he can already smell the fake strawberry flavour, artificial and cloying, and shit is that what Vash's mouth would taste like?

"You've gotta get rid of your gum first," he tells Vash to distract himself. He's not putting this shit in his body before Vash holds up his end of the bargain. "You finally gonna spit it out?"

Vash just gives him a cheeky grin - before swallowing, throat bobbing conspicuously.

"Hey, I just told you that's bad for you -"

"The seven year thing is a myth, Wolfwood! And 'something's gotta kill me eventually', so -"

"Yeah, yeah, smartass, I get it. Couldn't have just done that on the bike, could ya?"

He blinks at him innocently. Wolfwood rolls his eyes, but decides to let it go for now.

"Whatever. I'm guessin' you don't have a light? Here."

Vash places the cigarette between his lips and leans forward, expectant. Wolfwood keeps his eyes trained on the cupid's bow of his mouth, wrapped just-so around the filter, as he clicks his lighter and lights the cigarette. It's weirdly intimate, doing this for another person. Wolfwood works hard to keep his face impassive, even as his heart rate skyrockets. 

The moment the cigarette is lit, Vash takes a deep inhale, eyes closing, before blowing the smoke out in tendrils. Again, the motion is practiced, experienced, and if Wolfwood didn't believe he'd smoked a cigarette before, he definitely does now. He watches the smoke dissipate, a little entranced by the look on Vash's face, before his eyes open again, sweetly curved and smiling.

"Alright. Your turn."

Wolfwood rolls his eyes again, unpeeling a stick of gum and popping it in his mouth without ceremony. Immediately, he wants to cringe at the sugary taste, the way it grits against his teeth. But as his jaw starts working around it, passing it from one side of his mouth to the other, he has to admit - it is a good distraction. He doesn't crave the cigarette in front of him quite as much as he used to.

He'd rather die than tell Vash that, though.

"There ya go!" Vash claps him on the shoulder, just hard enough to be patronising, and Wolfwood shoots him a glare. "'S not so bad, is it?"

"It's fuckin' disgusting, Blondie. Way too sweet - it's a wonder you've got any teeth left."

"And it's a wonder you have any lungs left to complain with," Vash grins. He raises the cigarette to his lips for another drag, the absolute hypocrite. "Still. If you hate it that much, we can swap back. If you want."

There's a sly note to his voice, which Wolfwood clocks instantly. Cautious, he says, "I'm not swallowing this. If you wanna swap back, you'll have to deal with me spittin' it out and hurting that precious 'environment' of yours."

"Well, you could do that. Or..."

Vash takes a step closer to him. Wolfwood's brain freezes.

"Hey, Wolfwood. You ever heard of 'shotgunning' before?"

He's gotta be messing with him. He has to be. There's no way Vash the Stampede is standing in front of him, cheery grin in place, mouth curved around one of Wolfwood's own cigarettes, talking about shotgunning. Still, as Wolfwood scans his face, he can see no sign of an impending punchline - just that typical Vash earnestness, and a quirked eyebrow when Wolfwood takes too long to respond, using the pause to take another drag of the cigarette.

"I'm familiar with the concept, yeah," he says finally, still cautious. Vash tilts his head.

"Wanna try it? I bet we can adapt it a bit, just to swap the gum around."

"...Like, what? You kiss me, and use that to take the gum from my mouth?"

Forget about freezing, Wolfwood now feels like his brain is melting. He tries not to stutter around the phrase kiss me.

"Sure. I mean, it's gotta be better than spitting it on the ground, right? It's the ecologically responsible thing to do," Vash says, and Wolfwood must have been travelling with him for too long, because that makes far too much sense. He taps his cigarette; a mix of ashes and embers fall into the sand. "I mean. Unless you're really determined to hate the environment."

Wolfwood chews the gum for a second more, considering. Still not seeing the punchline, here. Vash is even giving him an out - he could spit the gum out, right now, and besides a little good-natured bickering, that would be the end of it. But. Despite wanting nothing more than for Vash to spit his god foresaken gum out for the past ten minutes, Wolfwood's suddenly real interested to see it back in his mouth.

"Alright," he says on a whim. Vash blows out another tendril of smoke, and Wolfwood can just barely see his lips curl from behind the haze. "For the environment. I guess."

Grinning, Vash tilts his head and holds his cigarette out of the way, held daintily between his fingers to avoid burning anyone. Wolfwood takes it for the invitation that it is, stepping into the empty space between them, close enough that he's sharing Vash's air. When he takes a deep, steadying breath, it smells like tobacco and fake strawberries.

"Alright. Ready?"

"Yep."

Vash's eyes have zeroed in on Wolfwood's lips with a predatory focus. He beckons him closer and Wolfwood has little choice but to follow, his own eyes slipping shut on instinct. He hovers just a few scant inches from Vash's lips, feeling the warmth, the gum trapped beneath his tongue ready for the exchange -

Which he promptly forgets all about, as Vash's lips touch his.

They're so soft. Slightly sticky, just like Wolfwood thought they would be, coated in sugar residue - but for some reason, the taste that was so disgusting in his own mouth is anything but in Vash's. Wolfwood loses himself in the sensation, as Vash's lips carefully pry his own open, as he dares to swipe his tongue into his mouth, and Wolfwood can't quite hold back a noise when their tongues slide together. There's another taste now, more familiar - the taste of Wolfwood's own cigarettes, and it shouldn't taste good with the strawberry, it really shouldn't, but...

Belatedly, Wolfwood remembers why they're here, why they're doing this. He uses his tongue to push the wad of bubblegum into Vash's mouth, inelegant and messy, and the other man lets out a faint mhm. He catches it in his teeth eagerly - before leaning back, breaking the kiss.

Wolfwood feels caught between two opposing forces. Because Vash is too far away now, and he's struck with the desire to grab him by the shoulders, pull him closer until they're kissing again, properly. But if they aren't going to kiss, he's still far too close, so close it's almost torturous, and Wolfwood watches his tongue drag the gum further into his mouth with a feeling almost like jealousy.

"See?" Vash says, and his voice could be described as breathless. "That... that wasn't so bad, was it?"

That was in my mouth, Wolfwood thinks as Vash starts chewing the gum again, seemingly on instinct. That was in my mouth.

"I don't think that counts as swappin', Spikey," he says without looking away from Vash's lips. Vash quirks his head, intrigued. "You've got the gum and the cigarette, now. Doesn't really seem fair."

Vash looks at the cigarette, still clasped between two fingers, like he'd forgotten it was there. "Huh. Yeah, good point. Whaddya propose we do about that?"

"D'you actually know how to shotgun? The traditional way?"

Amazingly, Vash still has it in him to blush. His voice breaks when he says, "Err - I mean, yeah! Yeah, I do."

"C'mon, then. 'S far as I see it, you owe me at least half that cigarette."

They spend a few hours (and a few cigarettes) by that roadside, putting them behind schedule by the time they make it to the next town. But, as Wolfwood tastes the remains of cigarette smoke and strawberries in his mouth, he thinks - it was entirely worth it.