agora | HOMOPHONIC PSL ✦ JUST ONE YESTERDAY

[ Do not ask me where the fuck they are in No Man's Land. Maybe in Augusta?? Being on the run without his brother in sight, phone damaged and semi-forgotten, Vash the Stampede sits at the counter in this little saloon. He's adjusted back to the usual lifestyle despite the weeks in some fucky murder game. Two months is nothing to him, though, and those memories are behind him now. The present is here, on this dustbowl of a planet, in this saloon in Augusta. Lay low. Stay quiet...

The establishment is not as popular as some other shops towards the front of the city and currently serves a couple of men off work this fine afternoon, but he prefers the quiet nowadays. It's quaint, minimally decorated, and carries a humble menu. Drinks being a mix of ale and spirits, then finger foods take up the rest of the listing.

He's only having alcohol, though. Every once in a while, he takes a sip as he chats with the bartender about mundane things while the television plays in the background. Technology is catching up! Satellites are still around, of course, but new entertainment comes with these new screens. An interview with the wanted Humanoid Typhoon, casted by ambitious and staunch journalist Meryl. The bartender asks what got him here, what does he do, if he has heard the news about Earth's onboarding plans, then the infamous daredevil himself and his megalomaniac brother... There are posters for those guys around the city, you know?

A lot of what Vash offers are non-answers or lies, but he seems cheerful enough with the smile on his face. Though tired, it's soft and bright. Somehow, he is unrecognizable when he has his hair down. I wrote up Vash is here. ]

[ It's been an interesting few days. Weeks. Months? Nebulous timeline. Not every day you just wake back up on your planet with the skies clear and Ark-free, head hurting from blurred memories of things he didn't technically experience but also should've...

Just as bad is seeing your own grave, a carved slate of stone on the ground with no name but a cross that stands out. He tries not to think about it too much, since he's here now, physical and breathing. It can just be a metaphor, some stupid, poetic something, about his old life... he was never the artsy kind though, so he just desecrates it (nobody will mind, it's his anyway) by taking his familiar cross in hand and setting off.

'Come look for me', his fucking ass. No Man's Land is huge and it took him two years last time. What he didn't expect was the little miss reportin' live, and the first time he saw it in a bar, he couldn't help but laugh in surprise. Of course he's still getting into trouble, and now it's more broadcast than ever. He dryly thanks the girls somewhere in the back of his mind for making this easier for him.

It's a mix of that and oddly serendipitous luck that he's able to narrow it down much faster this time, the bar doors opening. Just another pair of heavy footsteps to join the quiet and casual bustle behind him, a short walk, a little pause. And then a figure dressed in black sitting heavily in the counter seat next to Vash, large hat blocking the view. ]

'Scuse me. [ He is rude and apparently does not take the other free seats. ] Hey keep, I'll have what he's havin'.

[ Fingers drumming once on the table. Hmm. ]

[ First of all, this is as rude as standing next to a guy at the urinals. Second, why a big hat? Vash doesn't immediately lean away from the large hat that threatens to poke the side of his head, but slowly he does.

With narrowing eyes into a squint, he watches this newcomer for a moment before sipping his drink and setting his gaze on the glass rim. He considers pouring himself another glass until he hears this stranger's voice. A flood of emotions drown him, yet he schools his expression. Neutral with a hint of curiosity, betraying the soaring hope and expectation.

How could he ever forget this voice? He heard it recently, whatever nebulous time it has been, and remembers it so vividly it may as well haunt him.

Sorry, he's just going to wait and watch while the bartender brings Wolfwood a bottle. Vash is staring intently and intensely, though.

"What brings you here, friendly stranger?" ]

[ How could a person be so inconsiderate with their hat. Vash would not be blamed for almost pettily thinking that he's doing it on purpose.

Said stranger continues to sit there with an idle, relaxed aura... or so it seems. Practiced eyes may see the tension across the upper back and shoulders even through the longcoat, tanned fingers accepting the bottle and pouring himself a glass. ]

Wind and sandstorms take me wherever, just like anyone else. Lately been on a bit of a hunt, though.

Lookin' for someone. Real slippery guy. Remembered he likes hangin' out at bars so I thought I'd shoot my shot here.

Sound familiar?

[ "Sounds like plenty of people around these parts. You're gonna have to be a little more specific."

Tension along his back, somewhat stiff posture hidden by the dark cloak. Who wears all black in the desert? Only weirdos who traveled with him, he guesses. Vash takes another sip of his drink, long and drawn out, as he tempers yearning. He was fine if he didn't think about it, used to journeying the sandy expanse on his own, but he gravely misses Wolfwood and Livio.

is the cross not here

It doesn't matter. He taps on this stranger's shoulder with his free hand and takes a leap of faith. ]

Good sir! Maybe I can be of help. [ The bartender laughs and pipes up, saying Vash... what is your new name. I guess his name is Val now. Val is an experienced traveler. Leaning forward onto the counter, low against stained wood, Vash peeks up at him. ] Price is to take off your hat, so I can drink with a little more space. How does that sound?

[ His motions are languid and relaxed, but he can feel his heart beating faster. ]

[ I thought it'd be funny to not mention it but yeah if Vash like looks around him it's just there on the other side of him. He hums once as a response to the bartender before he allows his neighbour to take his attention away instead.

I can't play coy even if I actually wanted to though like, yeah, it's him. Not even sunglasses would hide his identity extra since Vash is obviously used to seeing him with those as well. His hair's grown out a little bit ever since Kaveh gave him a trim, definitely lost those faded dyed edges, but it's still most certainly, recognisably, classically Wolfwood... just in different clothes.

His expression is somewhat steeled, a little bit guarded, in the way there's something to be read in his eyes but it's unclear what that is. He swallows. ]

Well, don't you get straight to the point. Most people don't flirt so boldly until it's evening at the least.

[ Vash probably heard the punisher being set down. It's a familiar sound from a familiar weight at this point, but he doesn't pay it more attention than a glance.

Drink still hanging in his hand, his arms make something like a cradle for his head to rest on while still peering up. Not donning his usual red coat, Vash truly just looks like any other pretty boy if not for his bright blue eyes. They're a lot more vivid without orange sunglasses tinting them. Makes it easier to read him, only if he allows.

His expression shifts, nuanced but palpable to anyone with a trained eye. The smile now genuine, sincere, and knowing, instead of a usual shield. It's the Wolfwood he remembers... But they have to collect themselves, keep their composure. ]

Woooaaah. Can't a guy drink without worry of a hat attacking him?

[ The bartender laughs and comments that "Val" hasn't shown interest in anyone even though he has gained a number of suitors making attempts during his stay here. They also mention "Val" confided that he's waiting for someone, so tough luck, stranger. This makes Vash turn away and bury his face. Muffled: ]

Do you have to go embarrassing me...

My bad. Picked it up recently in the last city. Could use the extra protection, real dry spell and had to go on foot for a little bit.

[ His heart picks up a little bit and he breathes in, holds. Subtle, at the shift in energy. The bartender may be making his comments but Wolfwood doesn't even bother glancing his way. It's inconsequential in the face of this. ]

Is that so? How long you've been waiting? 'Cause if you got stood up, be happy to take that place.

Mm... No fault there.

[ A hat definitely helps and the bartender comments that it's a good idea. Don't want your scalp to sunburn, but they also ask curiously what happened to looking for that bounty. They know the talk, of course they do, but the switch of goals has them perplexed. Vash waves with his free hand to gesture it's all right. He can handle this. ]

Pointing fingers and calling me bold, then you pull something like that. [ Heaving a sigh, he sets his glass down and proffers some paper and coin. It's enough for both of them. ] I'll help you with your hunt first, then think about the rest later.

[ Standing up, he places a hand on Wolfwood's shoulder to give it a familiar squeeze around a familiar spot. "Come follow me." The bartender gets a friendly farewell from him, too.

To his inn room! Which happens to be close by. The short trek doesn't need more sleuthing and... With a click of the door, they have their privacy now. ]

[ He never said anything about a bounty but it's fine. The barkeep definitely thinks they're fucking. That's also fine he guesses. Again, inconsequential, and he's also never cared about odd curious glances thrown their way whenever they've had to ask for a single hotel room for two grown men, and this is barely above that.

He follows quiet but swift, grabbing the Punisher by one of its belts as he's ushered away with breath caught in his throat. He hasn't been nervous in a long, long time, and this is the closest it gets. He's glad to catch up to Vash of course, but --

He pauses and leans on the wall, doing the familiar motion of fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his coat, letting one lie between his teeth just to have something to do and an excuse even though he doesn't yet speak. Until he does, just as an ice breaker. ]

So.

Sounds like you never stopped gettin' yourself into trouble.

[ There are so many assumptions made when the word "hunt" comes in and then seeing two men lowkey flirt a little, not breaking contact, or pay others any mind. They might as well be in it for some fun (people pointing at them, "gay"). Vash doesn't think much of it. What can he do? Deny it? ]

Don't think I always have a choice here!

[ He says that, but it is a consequences of choice—becoming a wanted man for absconding with the enemy, though Knives is nowhere to be found. Despite assisting in putting an end to the era of chaos, clock winds back... And he's an outlaw all over again.

But Vash doesn't seem bothered. Instead he's focused on what's happening here, now. Eyebrows arch past his bangs as he watches this display. ]

You're just gonna smoke?

[ Said like... He expected a little something? Vash is just standing here in the room, one hand on his hip. ]

Didn't see a no smoking sign.

And I haven't lit up yet.

[ Like this is a perfectly reasonable answer. He's so used to talking around this thing, it's like it's not even there.

Still carefully watching him. Wolfwood could say the same thing right back, them both carefully talking around it. He's looking for any indication here that this is the same Vash that asked him to come find him. ]

You had something else in mind?

Uh... I guess? Maybe a couple of things.

[ Vash is careful for other reasons... There's no doubt in his mind that this is the Wolfwood from that strange reverie. How would he explain the man in front of him when he watched him die?

Truly, he's mostly feeling awkward, adjusting to the air. And the air is full of tension, careful and nervous. Shoulders drop with a sigh. ]

But I guess I did tell you to look for me, so I should be the one doing something.

[ He comes over to take the box of cigarettes from Wolfwood's hand to leave on the nearby desk. Small and slow steps to make sure Wolfwood doesn't freak out or jump out of his skin. You good, Mr. Tall Dark & Guarded? ]

[ He's fine. He doesn't fight it when Vash takes the carton out from between his fingers, even as his eyes never leave Vash's face like a watching animal. He's definitely on alert but it's not like he's going to suddenly throw a punch or do something insane.

It's really weird to exist in a universe where you died. Where you're supposed to be dead. Weirder when you don't feel dead, like you're supposed to be a ghost but you're not. ]

Broadcast or not, it was still pretty ass to find you. You know how big this damn planet is? You're lucky as it is that it didn't take me another two years.

Good thing you have a knack for tracking. [ He found it annoying back then. ] Even without them, I knew you were going to find me.

[ Less or more than two years, it doesn't matter. He trusted him. He waited for him, despite running. Now they're here.

A hand raises with intention to take the cigarette in his mouth, but it staggers... Fingers curl as he reconsiders something. ]

... Do you still feel the same way about me?

[ Time has passed and some of the urgency that came with the murder game is gone. Wolfwood is not on the brink of death, either... Vash doesn't think things have changed, but maybe it has?

The smile shifts into a shield again to hide the fear and the insecurity. He... Just wonders where they stand now. ]

[ He's the most dogged person anyone will know. Midvalley described him as such, a demon who never stops advancing. The day he really gives up on something is when you know something really is a lost cause to him.

The cigarette shifts slightly with a slight movement of his teeth. His eyes narrow the instant he can see the smile turn fake. Go back. He's always liked the other one more. ]

I've felt the same way for ages. [ He barely refrains from tacking on an 'idiot'. ] So it depends on how you feel.

[ Thinks about it for a minute. ]

Or I guess it doesn't. It wouldn't change anything.

[ Still talking around it a bit, but it's still true. Even if Vash told him he had absolutely zero interest in him, it wouldn't just snuff out Wolfwood's feelings. Those are there to stay forever. ]

... C'mon. Ages?

[ Vash is the old one so hearing this has him chuckle. This is at least real... And nerves subside with it. It's true for him, too, despite the fear of being rejected. What he wants is to stay by his side. That desire conquers all, though he figures he will always love him. Even if he were to be dead, he won't forget. Most likely would have never move on.

But they're here and Vash feels the confidence to pluck the cigarette from Wolfwood's lips. It stays safe between his fingers. ]

Do you want me to say it?

[ Other hand takes the hat now. That's set aside. ]

Ages.

[ Repeats blandly. His life is so short and so ephemeral. A few months is a lifetime, whether that's torment under medical lights, whether that's grappling your feelings in the face of inevitable betrayal.

He glances briefly at the cigarette getting stolen from him, though this is the world's least interesting robbery given how little of a fight he put up (zero). And his attention is back to Vash anyway, dark eyes boring into him from behind shades that are a bit different and newer, but still mostly the same. ]

I'd take a demonstration too if that's easier.

Ages.

[ Repeats it while he takes Wolfwood's sunglasses next. This desk is just littered with Wolfwood's belongings at this point.

They can see each other without any shield or blinds and Vash takes this time to admire him. He always liked his eyes, even though he always found himself at the end of glares and leers, but there's no time to get lost.

A demonstration is a way to put it... But action does come easier, sometimes. His free hand runs along Wolfwood's neck, fingers threading through faded strands on the nape. ]

I love you, Nicholas. [ Hushed, almost desperate. Leaning in, he presses his lips against Wolfwood's, a kiss featherlight and sweet. He parts only a bit to whisper softly. ] And I've missed you...

[ Another peck after, cutely. Vash decides he'll give Wolfwood both types of affirmations—he'll give Wolfwood anything he wants. Though he's unworthy, undeserving, if Wolfwood wants him... Then he can have every rotten and blackened piece of him; Vash believes Wolfwood deserves the world, the galaxy. ]

[ There's the briefest lull, a lean in forward at the fingers tracing against the back of neck before he practically dives in, closing the gap with a hunger and want just barely restrained to match the level of light and sweet that Vash treats him with. Wolfwood's fingers curl, one around the other's wrist and the other grasping the front of Vash's outfit. All here. ]

Yeah. [ Gasped out, chasing after it with a press of his lips to the corner of Vash's mouth before moving to quietly bury his face into the crook of his shoulder as he moves his hand from the front to around Vash's back, pulling him close. ] Fuck. Me too.

[ Fuck the rest of the world and the entire galaxy. Let somebody else tend to that. He never asked for that kind of responsibility and though he will bear it if given, follow Vash through it even if he spends half of it kicking and griping, but he doesn't want these meaningless gifts. He just wants Vash. And his family, the orphanage of course, but semantics aside -- all that matters is right now. ]

[ It seems that they've fallen from the little dance around earlier, but Vash prefers this.

He holds Wolfwood close, remembering how this body in his arms runs hot... It's a nice change from the cold corpse he had to examine and the one he had to bury. The memories have him holding onto Wolfwood tighter, hoping this warmth never flickers and fades. All life ends, unfortunately. The day will come again... But at least not soon.

The hand originally on Wolfwood's neck continues to play with his hair, carding through it while he's buried in his shoulder, the other clasped on his back with cigarette still seized. His heart drums louder, chest filling with warmth, as elation washes over him. Whatever bounty on his head and seek for refuge dissipates—he simply wants to be here, with him. ]

Welcome back.

[ No Man's Land may be a hellhole, but it's still theirs and he welcomes Wolfwood home. Quietly, he noses the side of Wolfwood's head before planting a small kiss on the same spot. He lets them stay in the moment, indulging in the embrace for some minutes, then pipes up. ]

Want to take this to the bed? Or...

[ Did they want to continue hugging while standing? ]

[ He didn't want to fuck it up by meeting a Vash who wasn't actually the same as the one who went through the Reaper's Game with him. It's part of why he was so afraid to fully commit during the game, because at that point he'd already known about the differing timelines, and how Ruby couldn't tell him for sure that their worlds would blend in properly, that all three would be saved if at least one was. He wouldn't know what to do if everything else went well, but when he returned, he'd suddenly be with a Vash who wasn't quite the same. Of course, other reasons like not being sure if Wolfwood himself would be able to return and not wanting to break Vash's heart further like that were also at play, but this was his most selfish one.

So now, the relief washes over so strong that he feels shaky, a slight tremour in his fingers. The one goddamn prayer, heard when it counts. He'll never ask for anything again. His fingers grasp harder into the fabric of Vash's shirt across his back and makes some kind of muffled sound in response to the 'welcome back'. ]

Idiot. You could've made it easier, like wear some red.

[ Nothing stopped him from dressing exactly like his wanted posters back when he was blond. Granted to be fair, not exactly his fault when people on this planet are often so stupid that hunters don't realise they're looking at Vash the Stampede until he's literally standing right next to his own picture. He already knew Vash had different hair from being subjected to it through the Reaper's Game so at least he didn't have to double-take about that.

He does pull back to squint at Vash though when he asks. ]

Phrasing.

[ He thinks. He doesn't know, he knows Vash would literally rather pretend and sleep through somebody hitting on him so. ]

[ Vash, on the other hand, was optimistic despite knowing about the timelines. He didn't ask the reapers if they'd converge... He simply asked if they kept their memories, if they'd return only to die, and he got favorable answers.

Blind faith is hoping the timelines would converge and Wolfwood would find him. Realistically, his heart was resigned and content with the fact that, at the very least, in some universe out there... Wolfwood survived. He'd be fine to wait in his series of events, believing Wolfwood would be searching for him, even if that wouldn't be true. At least he had his chance to love and be loved by Wolfwood. That would have been enough.

Fortunate that God heard them this one time. Vash can squeeze Wolfwood in a hug however many times he wants now. ]

Sorry, my coat is getting dry cleaned.

[ Somehow, despite being wanted and his red coat being a trademark of his, he feels comfortable and safe enough to leave his coat at the dry cleaners like no one will recognize him or the coat. As they both know, No Man's Land has trouble remembering wanted posters.

When Wolfwood pulls away, he can see the confusion on Vash's face. ]

Huh? What do you—[ Oh, it hits him. ] I meant we can snuggle on the bed and talk!

[ Vash is unsure if Wolfwood is even interested in sex, actually. The guy always seemed ace, but maybe that's due to the apocalypse. He's quickly calculating the possibility with quantitative values he pulled out of his ass based on what he has learned about and observed of the other man.

... ]

Are you interested in that?

[ Looks at him, awkwardly. ]

[ Vash hasn't submitted a trademark or patent for his coat, he doesn't OWN wearing red. All the copy-cats trying to steal his drip also help, probably. ]

You can have more than one coat.

[ But Wolfwood will point this out anyway, because he's rude, and also needs to lash out when he's feeling so emotionally unstable. His brows furrow as he just stares at Vash's face... tired. Of course he didn't notice how it sounded. That was exactly why he pointed it out. And that would've been the end of it.

He would've asked for a shower first, because God forbid the weather in this place, because two months in the UG unexpectedly did spoil him, because the forty-degree binary sun heat was a sensation he did not miss, because the notion that he doesn't have constant access to a shower and Laundromat was a concept he missed even less, and then maybe they can just have a well-deserved nap in familiar lukewarm inn beds with slightly scratchy pillows --

But no, he's just closing his eyes briefly. Still holding Vash where he is. ]

Comes and goes.

[ He thinks that's a safe answer, and it's true besides. Even if this is not the topic of conversation he would've chosen on reunion. ]

You don't have to.

[ And also making that clear while at it because he does have the image that Vash is potentially sex-repulsed. ]

[ It's better to pack light in the desert! Much like how Wolfwood chided him about buying those winter coats—can't bring that with them. Vash has very little to his name, little to carry, too. There's no sassy response because he really set them up for this awkward conversation unintentionally.

In Wolfwood's arms he can feel Vash grow tense by each muscle fiber, world-hardened body stiffer than normal. His gaze flickers up, elsewhere, and down as he thinks about it. ]

I'm not against it, I just don't think my body is...

[ Presentable. Desirable. With all of its scars and history, unnatural and monstrous in origin, he finds it hard to imagine anyone would want that with him—except he's stupid because it's always him rejecting prospects. Believing he doesn't deserve intimacy is a running trend.

Body image is genuinely an insecurity, but Wolfwood has seen so many sides to him. He wants him, anyway, and reasoning it through brings a color to his cheeks and tint the tip of his ears. It's a light flush, but present and noticeable on his skin. ]

If you ever want to, later... [ And that flush deepens and spreads as he voices this, embarrassment and regret grabbing him by the throat. His brow furrows as a hand comes to cover the lower half of his face, attempting to obscure and hide. ] I don't know. Maybe we can try.

[ Eyebrows knit together deeply now with eyes flicking one spot to another, back and forth, like he can't figure out where to focus. ]

I feel really stupid.

[ Just so Wolfwood knows. ]

HOMOPHONIC PSL ✦ JUST ONE YESTERDAY

REUNION.

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