Captor & Hostage [#12 - coffee, Trigun - VashxMeryl]
Title: Captor & Hostage
Fandom: Trigun
Characters: VashxMeryl
Prompt: #12, coffee
Word Count: 6,819
Rating: Er... NC-17, or thereabouts.
Notes: The double-dollar is the currency on Gunsmoke, and this is basically crack. Initially, I didn't mean for it to be this long, but it just kept going and going and ended up writing itself. Rated for sexual content. On a kitchen counter. And its utter silliness. Bah, this took forever and a day to HTML. D:
[x-posted to vash_meryl and fic_simplicity; #4 prompt of "laundry."]
Captor & Hostage
It was a rather odd thing to think, but nothing really smelled as good as clean laundry. It had the sort of unique, welcoming smell that reminded her of home, or perhaps a lazy Sunday morning where she would be off work, free to be idle for a change. Oh, and coffee at the crack of dawn smelled good, too, of course. In fact, the both of them made her feel downright fuzzy inside. Not that she was ready to openly admit that to anyone, mind. It was her little secret that no one else would have to know.
After she scooped up the fresh batch of clothing and put it into a light blue laundry basket, she headed out of the laundry area and dutifully made her way to her bedroom. Being an orthodox person in almost every manner, she figured it that it was best to put away her things before she went onto Milly’s and Vash’s. It would be easier that way. Socks, blouses, tights, undergarments, her cape, and blue jeans for casual wear were plucked out of the basket, folded, and stashed away, one by one. At one point, she had found a ten double-dollar bill while rooting around, which most certainly made her day. Chuckling to herself, she stuffed it into a pocket of her shirt. As she made her way down the hallway, she wondered about how the bill had come to find itself amongst the laundry. That broom-head, he probably forgot to take the money out of his pants or something. Oh, well… It’s mine, now. I’ll think of it as a tip for washing his clothes so often. That thought made her smile to herself. Vash could be so absentminded sometimes.
“Good morning,” greeted Milly, sleepily watching Meryl as she entered. She still had her fluffy pajamas on, and her long, light brown hair looked as if she had been out in a roaring sandstorm all night. Sitting placidly on her bed, she asked, “How are you doing today?”
Meryl set the basket on the edge of the bed and began to select Milly’s things from the rest of its contents. “I’m all right,” she replied with a smile. “Just putting away some clothes before I go off to make breakfast. Did you sleep well?”
She nodded, fighting back a yawn. “I sure did, sempai. I dreamed about him again.” She didn’t need to clarify who ‘him’ was for Meryl to know. Milly had been having many dreams of the priest, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, lately; after his untimely death, she really seemed to miss him. Meryl had the notion that she cared about him more than a friend ever could. “He told me that everything’s going to be all right,” she continued softly. “I believe him. Even though he didn’t tell me much, I believe him.”
“Everything will be all right,” Meryl agreed. “He was a little bit odd, but there isn’t any reason why we shouldn’t trust him.” Handing her friend her shirts, pants, and other clothing, she said, “Here. And where do you keep your work uniform again?”
Milly shrugged as she curled her arms around the laundry, accepting it. “Just put it on the dresser for now. I’ll put it away in a bit after I get changed and take a shower. Thanks, sempai.”
After Meryl had folded the uniform and placed it upon Milly’s bureau, she exited her room with the light blue basket and sauntered into Vash’s. It was dark and dim inside as she entered; he kept the blinds closed so he wouldn’t be roused by the suns and could sleep in on the weekends. The man himself was a lump in the center of the bed, covers wrapped around his thin and lanky frame. A shock of blond hair could be seen poking out from the blankets. Smiling, she set the basket down on the clothing-strewn floor, which had pairs of boxers and random socks tossed about, and yanked the blinds open.
Instantly, Vash gave a start. “Ah, light! Turn it off!” Seeming aggravated, he nuzzled deeper into his haven of covers to shield himself from the bright rays of the suns. “It’s morning already? Just a few more minutes, insurance girl-I swear I’ll be up by then…”
Meryl grabbed the blankets from him and pulled. “C’mon, needle-noggin, time to get up. After this I’m cooking breakfast. If you’re not there by the time I get started, you’re not getting any.”
His drowsy look of disapproval and his disheveled appearance made her laugh. “Fine, fine, I’m up, I’m up.” He wrinkled his nose as he ran a hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair. After letting out a yawn, he stretched and pulled himself out of bed. By the time he was opening a few more of the blinds to let the morning light in, Meryl was nearly halfway done with folding all of his clothes. Sweatpants, jeans, and shirts were already laid out on the edge of his mattress, and she currently had a select pair of boxers in hand. He was then suddenly hovering over her; she could feel the heat of his body though he wasn’t touching her.
“Is it really that interesting?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to see him watching rather attentively.
“You do it so neatly.” He leaned down and rested his chin upon her shoulder. “It’s like you’re working or something.”
Meryl rolled her eyes, trying to ignore his sudden closeness. “In case you haven’t noticed, it is work, Vash. Chores are work. What world have you been living in?”
Vash chuckled nervously. “Er, okay. Point taken. Maybe I should rephrase that.”
“Yes, I think you should.”
“How about, ‘You do it really meticulously, almost like you’re writing your insurance reports’?” Lifting his chin away, he reached out and took one of the shirts that she had already folded. Tilting his head to one side, he held it up and unfurled it. It was a lovely dark red and long-sleeved; one of his newer tops that she had bought him recently.
“That’s better.” But when she saw him with the clean shirt in hand, she immediately snapped with, “Hey, what are you doing? I just-!”
“I know, I know, I’m ruining your hard work, insurance girl,” he said in an admonishing tone. “You know well enough that I’d like to stay in pajamas all day, but if I did, you’d scold me for it. So, to humor you and to save my skin, I’m going to change into something different. All right?” His complacent smile made her want to smack him, but she let it slide. It was far too early to get into an argument.
“Yes, all right,” she sighed, picking up the laundry basket. “Just make sure to put all of your clothes away. Neatly, please. And pick all of this up off of the floor, will you? It’s disgusting.” He simply flashed her an innocent grin as she left. It must’ve been contagious somehow, for it crept onto her mouth and curved her lips, too.
Light from the suns spilled golden rays onto the kitchen floor, making the room look cozy and picturesque. Meryl, sitting patiently at the table, was waiting for a pot of coffee to finish percolating. Its delicious smell that wafted through the warm morning air tempted her a bit too much. She was half grateful that Vash was the first one to enter; at least she would be somewhat distracted by him and wouldn’t go running for the caffeine right away.
“G’morning,” he said, sleepily rubbing at his eyes, “even though I probably shouldn’t be saying that since I had such a rude awakening.” He had donned that red shirt that he had picked up earlier, and instead of his gray pajama bottoms, he had on a pair of black sweatpants. However, his blond hair was still as tousled as it had been when he had awoke with many strands sticking out this way and that; it appeared that he was feeling particularly lethargic this morning.
Meryl only sighed at his remark. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning, broom-head. It’s not that bad. You get up earlier than I do on the weekdays, so stop complaining. You’re an outlaw! Why don’t you act like one for once?”
“Act like one, huh?” His expression turned from drowsy to delightfully mischievous within seconds. “All right, then, insurance girl. If that’s what you want.” She didn’t have enough time to take back what she had said. Before she could protest, his arms were curled around her waist and he had lifted her clear out of her chair.
“Let me go!” she growled, squirming and thrashing as violently as she could in attempt to break free. Her back was pressed uncomfortably close against his chest; she could feel some of his scars beneath the fabric of his shirt. Not that it was bothersome to feel his scars, but with him nearly squeezing the life out of her, the nearness definitely presented a problem. His arms were just beneath her breasts, and she was positive that them being there wasn’t just an accident. “Damn it, this isn’t what I meant! Let me go!”
“Shh. You’re my hostage, now,” he said in a low voice. “You’d better be a good insurance girl if you want to be released.”
Hostage? What the hell’s gotten into you, Vash? At that simple statement, she made an even greater effort to escape. She was no one’s hostage, especially not needle-noggined Vash the Stampede’s. “Stop acting like a kid,” she retorted. “This is absolutely stupid. Let me go already!”
“Kid?” He sounded incredulous. “I’m an outlaw, not a kid. I capture beautiful maidens and ransom them for money-that is, if they don’t fall in love with me, first. Then it becomes rather difficult to give them back to their families.”
Oh, the bloody nerve this man had. Meryl wanted so badly to strike him, but unfortunately for her, her arms were rendered incapable of doing so; they were held quite firmly to her sides. “Like a girl in the right mind would actually fall in love with her captor. Genius, Vash. Absolutely genius. I bet you’ll be a great romance novelist some day.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“You think so? Eh, I was thinking about writing more of an action-adventure story with only a dash of romance. But the hero gets the girl, of course.”
“Would this particular hero happen to be blond?” she asked wryly.
“Only if this particular girl happens to be short.” Meryl knew well enough that he was smirking; his voice easily gave it away.
“You’re ridiculous, Vash!” There seemed to be no sensible way out of this dilemma that she could see. She huffed, finally giving up. “Fine, I’ll play along. But you’d better let me go after this for your own good.”
She heard him chuckle behind her. “That’s my insurance girl. Now, being my hostage, you must do everything I say.”
“Nothing indecent, I hope,” she muttered under her breath.
Vash rested his chin upon her head, nestling amongst her soft black hair. “Everything and anything I say,” he repeated, loosening his grip around her but still keeping her close. She felt his arms lightly brush against the bottom of her breasts as he moved. “And firstly, I want you to start making breakfast, you lazy insurance girl.”
“How can I when you’re holding onto me like this?” she asked. “You have to let go if you want something to eat.”
“I suppose I do. Can I trust you to not run away if I should decide to release you?”
“I can’t make any promises, broom-head.”
“Then you’re staying put.”
More frustrated than ever, her efforts to escape from him were doubled. With some wild thrashing, Meryl finally managed to wrench her arms free. She tried to run out of the kitchen, but his hand latching around her wrist made her stop short in her hurried tracks. “Damn it, let me go!” Before she could do (or shout) anything else, she was whirled around and pulled right toward him, knocking forcefully into his body. Vash yelped on impact and lost his balance. The trip to the floor was less pleasant than the landing, but at least something soft had broken her fall. Gritting her teeth, feeling somewhat dizzy, she lifted herself with her hands and maneuvered her legs into a more comfortable position. “Just look what you did, needle-noggin. Now, I…” Trailing off, she realized that he was directly beneath her. His mouth was inches away, slightly parted and appearing expectant. She didn’t have the sense or will to finish her sentence.
Vash smirked, and his aqua-green eyes glinted with satisfaction. She had absentmindedly situated herself in the oddest possible way; her legs set on both of his sides, she was straddling him. “Now this is a wake-up call,” he purred, his hands sliding down her sides to cup her hips. Firmly, he held her in place as he sat upward and pressed his forehead against hers. “You know, I think you oughta be my hostage more often.” His voice was deeper, huskier than before; it insinuated something that she found all too apparent.
Meryl’s face grew terribly hot with him staring at her like that. His fingers gently massaging her felt so awkward and the sheer closeness made her anxious. “Maybe I should,” she muttered quietly in agreement, positive that he could hear her even though she barely whispered it. It made her feel so strange, straddling his hips like she was, yet a part of her didn’t mind so much. In fact, that part really liked it. Her heart was hastily racing in her chest; she thought for sure that it was going to leap straight into her throat when he nuzzled her neck.
Softly, he inhaled. “You smell good, insurance girl.” He gave a light, tentative kiss to her skin. “And I bet you taste good, too.”
She took a deep, shaky breath, discovering that she could smell him, as well. She hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was lying right on top of him, she could. That’s right, he’s wearing what I gave him earlier… Trying not to let him notice, she sniffed again. God, he smells wonderful. Okay, so there was something that smelled better than clean laundry: Vash wearing it.
Then, suddenly, the coffee began to make a raucous gurgling noise. To her relief, it broke her clear out of the short spell that had taken hold of her. Tensing at the sounds, she lifted herself from his warm body without any other thoughts aside from getting as far away from him as possible. His hands grew lax and slid down her thighs and calves as she stood, causing her to tremble lightly beneath them. As fast as she could without looking too terribly rushed, she walked over to the coffee pot and turned it off. Meryl sighed mentally. What on Gunsmoke has gotten into him so suddenly? He’s acting more perverse than usual. I mean, he… he never does that! He’s hugged me once or twice, maybe even ruffled my hair or something stupid along those lines, but never that! What the hell is going on in that needle-noggined skull of his? Mind somewhat pleasurably fuzzy and thoughts rather rampant, she busied herself with retrieving a glass out of the cabinet above her, still wondering about why he had done something so… bold. She was hoping that he was finished with his little game, but when she heard him come up behind her again, she set the mug down on the counter and readily braced herself for more of his bizarre behavior.
“Who said you could be released?” he asked, curling an arm around her waist. “The infamous outlaw, Vash the Stampede, isn’t done with you just yet.” She froze in place when his hand drifted right over her breast. “And I do believe that you have something of mine, insurance girl.” His fingers crept into the pocket of her blouse, gliding along the surface of the material until they came across a folded ten double-dollar bill. His touch turned her skin beneath into gooseflesh.
He-why, that idiot! He made me think that he wanted me when he was just going after that double-dollar bill! That must’ve been his plan the entire time. “Hey, I know! I’ll get Meryl all flustered with my good-for-nothing antics so she won’t fight back when I go to reach for my money that I was stupid enough to leave in my pants!” She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from gnawing his hand off as it slid its way from inside her pocket. Then, she had a sudden idea. It was not in her nature to think of doing such a thing, but the need for revenge was far too demanding to ignore. With what she had in mind, she could effortlessly get him back and make him sorry that he had ever thought to play such a cruel prank on her. Slowly, she turned herself around in his hold and placed a hand on his chest, stopping him short. “Do I have permission to do my captor a favor as his hostage?” she asked as sweetly as she could manage.
Vash arched an eyebrow. Already he was suspicious. “It all depends,” he said, his voice carrying a slight tone of curiosity. “Will I like it?”
Trying to hide a smile was becoming very difficult; her own muscles betrayed her. “You might.”
“Might, huh?” His cheeks were the slightest shade of red, but his eyes held a hopeful sparkle. “Doesn’t sound too promising.”
“All right, then. You will like it. Better?” She loved the way his face had gained such a satisfied expression. It wouldn’t be that way for much longer, though.
“Mmhm,” he muttered in reply, leaning forward.
Her hand on his chest trailed up to his chin; with her thumb and forefinger, she captured it between them and held it in place. “Not so fast,” she warned softly. Her other hand slid along his side in leisure strokes, her nails gently tracing around and scraping at his scars. The smile upon her mouth broadened considerably when she felt him shiver at her touch; that was exactly the reaction that she had been looking for. Then, with great care, she brushed her bottom lip against his. The delighted shock that it sent throughout her when skin touched skin was not something that she had expected, however.
When she pulled away out of surprise, a short moan of protest came from his throat. His arm around her tightened and pressed her closer; she was soon almost entirely flush with his body. Vash’s scent was sublime, and the smell of the freshly brewed coffee just beside her only bettered it. The atmosphere of the room had changed from lighthearted to something else entirely.
What did I get myself into? Meryl wondered worriedly. Maybe that kiss-could you even call it a kiss?-was too much. Vash’s other hand, the one with the double-dollar bill clutched inside of it, reached out for the counter behind her. Seeing it as her chance, she moved her fingers from his side and skimmed them down his arm, cupping his hand with hers and deterring it from its course. The money, she found, was no longer there. Damn. Where could he have put it? It’s not on the counter…
Another quiet moan rumbled forth. He tried to lean forward to kiss her, but she held him firmly. “C’mon,” he urged in hushed tones, pressing closer. “Hostages aren’t supposed to tease. You’re teasing me.”
“But you like it, don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
His hand laced its fingers with hers. “… Yes.” He squeezed, needily. “God, yes.” Vash’s eyes were half open and misted over with what exactly she had felt. “You’re my hostage, insurance girl… Anything I say.”
To sate him, she diffidently kissed him on the cheek. It was feathery-light and it could scarcely be called a kiss, but her lips did indeed touch him for a split moment. “That enough?” She gave him a sly, wanton grin to accompany the apparent sarcasm. All right, it’s time to get that ten back. Meryl cautiously flexed her fingers to test her ground, only to feel Vash respond and flex back. It didn’t seem that he knew of her intentions. Damn. He won’t let go and he’ll suspect if I do… Then, her thoughts turned to the hold that she still had on his chin. Her eyes dropped to his lips, which looked so enticing from how close she was. If I let go, she thought, he’ll… he’ll kiss me. The very notion made butterflies erupt within her stomach; her heart rate soared and she felt her face heat up to an uncomfortable level again. Meryl couldn’t help but be nervous. But it’s either now or never. I have to show him that I can’t be so easily swayed or distracted like he can. With that final thought in mind, she released him.
Warm lips claiming hers in an instant nearly made her lose her balance. His tongue gently coaxed her mouth open and made her sigh as his arm kept her close. For a moment, the feeling of him made her lose all coherent thought. Come on, come on, she scolded herself, concentrate! You can do better than this! But concentration was much easier said than done. With him rubbing against her, pinning her alongside the counter, and nibbling playfully at her lower lip, she had the hardest time maintaining her composure. The reality of it struck her with such force that she briefly forgot to breathe: he was actually kissing her, and with such eagerness that it was breathtaking.
Finally, regaining what dignity she could scrape up from the floor of her mind, Meryl managed to place her free hand in the small of his back. His shirt was soft and smooth to the touch, but it wasn’t what she was aiming for; money couldn’t be kept there. Continuing her descent, she slithered down to his rear, and while doing so, she felt like such a lecher. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one doing this sort of thing? However, just as she had expected, he indeed had back pockets. The temptation was a little too much for her to bear, and losing control for a mere second, she took her chance and squeezed.
She heard Vash chuckle. The hand that had been cupping her side slid down to her bottom to mimic what she had just done. Pulling away from her slightly, he muttered, “Wow. I didn’t think you liked it.”
No, no, no-get back to being distracted! Ignoring his remark, she pressed flush against his body and nearly yanked him into another heated kiss. Instead of waiting for him to react, she shyly licked at his bottom lip in order to allure him and to regain his attention; she didn’t want him to discover her intent. Vash, more than likely pleased than anything else, took the bait with utter delight. Unlacing his fingers from hers, he curled his arm around her to join his left, leaving her free to search him for the ten double-dollar bill.
As he carried onward, she slowly slid her fingers into his pockets, testing and feeling around for her target. A low groan worked its way from his mouth and into hers when she rolled her hips; she could easily feel a rather conspicuous hardness through many folds and layers of clothing. What made her grip him rougher was that she was turning him on, and it surprised her on so many different levels-she had never done such a thing before. Still, she couldn’t help but revel in her newfound power. Vash gently massaged her tongue with his own, partially sidetracking her from the piece of creased paper in his right back pocket. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought wryly, lightly toying with the ends of the bill, as if unsure as to whether or not to take it. And… my god, I’m enjoying it. I’m really enjoying it. Her hands groped him one last time before she snatched the money. Meryl knew well enough that now was the time to stop, but the delicious ache that had settled between her legs told her otherwise. His lips were so soft and his tongue was so hot; every kiss was feverish, even when he drew away to pay attention to her neck. She soon found herself whispering his name while he lifted her up onto the counter, which enabled him easy access between her thighs.
Vash playfully nipped at her earlobe. “You all right?”
Breathing rather heavily, Meryl nodded, though she was more focused on other things besides her current wellbeing. Her hands coasted from his rear to his mid-back with the elusive ten in tow. Success, she cheered within as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, but… oh, god. He’s-he’s actually… A muffled moan escaped her, breaking off her thoughts. He had run a thumb over her breast. “You’re… you’re teasing me,” she breathed, arching slightly to his touch. “I thought you were a kind outlaw. What ever happened to ‘love and peace’?”
He smiled devilishly against her nape. “So, what’s it feel like, huh?” He repeated the action, slower this time and making quite sure that her nipple was in his path. “Hostages aren’t supposed to tease, insurance girl.”
As a response, she ground her hips against him. Vash stopped to bite his lip. “Good enough?” Meryl took the opportunity to draw her arms away. Then, after victoriously flashing the ten double-dollar bill, she stuck it down the front of her blouse and folded her arms for protection. “No ransom for you, Vash the Stampede.” A thrilled smile finished it off. The mere expression he gave her nearly made her burst into a fit of laughter. As if he had had an epiphany that had gone sour, his eyes widened in alarm and she felt all of his muscles tense. Since he couldn’t seem to find anything to retort with, his mouth just hung half open, instead. How the mighty have fallen, you notorious gunman, you. I win, Vash.
But before she could celebrate her triumph, the next thing she saw flash in front of her was a container of coffee.
In Vash’s hand.
Being threatened to be poured down the sink.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, glaring daggers.
“Insurance girl, I’ll offer you a deal. If you give me that ten you found in the laundry, then I won’t ‘accidentally’ let this spill.” He looked rather stupid there, holding the coffee pot over the sink with that bulge in his pants, but she knew well enough that he was quite serious.
“What? I don’t think so. If you want it so badly, then why don’t you come and get it?” Meryl was aware that she probably looked as silly as he did with her skirt hiked up to her thighs and the first couple of buttons of her blouse undone, but she was beyond caring at the present moment.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His eyes darted to her breasts and then back to her face.
Meryl jerked her head in the direction of his hips. “I think the very same could be said for you, broom-head.”
Shifting nervously, his cheeks flushed. “But… that’s not my fault. You did that to me-you came onto me!”
“Where have you been? You came onto me! Suddenly holding me like you did with no excuse, and then harassing me when I tripped?”
“Harassing? That wasn’t harassing! You fell on me! What was I supposed to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know, keep your hands away and make a civil attempt to help me up?” Meryl was downright infuriated. The sheer gall that this man had! She wanted to strike him to expel some of her rage, but she didn’t dare move from her spot on the countertop. What if he poured the coffee down the sink?
Vash’s face was a light red, and his eyes were fixed on her with interest. “You liked it,” he said softly. “You did, didn’t you?”
She avoided his questioning gaze by scowling very crossly at the floor. “So what if I did? You’re not going to rub it in my face, are you?”
Sighing, Vash set the coffee on the counter a good ways from the sink. The tension inside her eased up a little; at least it was no longer in jeopardy. “No. No, I wouldn’t do that. I mean, if you liked it-”
“Whoever said I liked it?” she snapped. “I didn’t say that at all!”
The next thing she knew, Vash was against her and between her thighs again. Arms hooking around her waist, he muttered, “You didn’t like it, huh? You sure?” Ever so lightly, he brushed his lips along her cheek as if to persuade her otherwise.
Wow… That feels good. Meryl tried her best to catch her breath. This man was driving her absolutely crazy. He could switch moods faster than he could fire bullets. “I… I-Y-yes, I’m sure!” Her attempts to push him away with folded arms ultimately proved to be futile; he was much stronger than she was, and therefore he could easily maintain his ground.
Vash only grinned. “I don’t believe you, insurance girl. You’re such a bad liar. You’re smiling.”
And so she was. It had just occurred to her how silly this entire situation must have looked. This is absolutely ridiculous. I can’t believe we’re practically fighting over a little piece of paper. Holding back a few giggles, she said, “Needle-noggin, I swear, you’ve got to be the craziest excuse for a man I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re the most persistent insurance agent that I’ve ever had follow me in my travels,” he said in return.
Then, she paused for a few moments, thinking of how to word the emotion that had just swelled. His hands stroked her back in a loving manner, as if he were apologizing for something that he couldn’t voice. Sighing, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. His shirt still had that pleasant, clean smell from its trip in the washing machine, though now it held more of his scent to it than before. “But you know… you’re my favorite.”
Vash chuckled. “You’re my favorite, too, insurance girl. It’s not every morning that I get adventures like this.”
Halfheartedly, she hit his chest with her fist to admonish him. “Don’t say that. It makes you sound like a pervert.”
“But isn’t that what you called me the other day?” He then began to mimic her, raising his voice to try and match her pitch: “‘Stop staring, broom-head! You’re being a pervert! And if you don’t stop, I’ll make you stop!’”
“Your impressions are horrible, Vash,” she chided him, trying not to snicker. God, he smelled so good. “That doesn’t sound anything like me at all.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” he said insouciantly. “You normally sound a lot bitchier than that.” To that, she promptly hit him in the chest with the back of her fist again. “Ouch… Hey, you weren’t so violent a little bit ago. What happened?”
We were kissing one another senseless, that’s what happened, she wanted to say, but instead, she said, “I was… preoccupied.”
“And now you’re frustrated, right? Is that why?” His hips pressed against her as he shyly nipped at her lower lip, testing how far he could go again.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. He’ll never let me live it down. Hell, I can’t believe he’s doing this. Meryl finally uncrossed her arms in surrender. “Take it,” she stated in a curt, businesslike way.
Vash halted. After staring at her in perplexity for a moment or so, he said, “Wait a minute… What?”
She took his chin purposefully between her forefinger and thumb, ensuring that he looked at her and her alone. “I said for you to take it. If you can take it from me, then you can keep it. Understood?”
He finally seemed to realize that she was referring to the money still stuffed down her blouse. A lopsided smirk curved his lips most roguishly. “So you’re telling me that I can take it and you won’t try to stop me?”
Stop you? Someone stop me. I’m losing my mind. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Hm…” He gave her a serious, deliberating gaze as his brows knit. She could nearly tell exactly that he was thinking. “Well, what if I miss the ten on accident,” he asked, “and happen to touch something else instead?”
The tone of his voice didn’t match the content of his question at all, and the obvious difference made her smile. “You ask too many questions. Whatever happened to your crazy recklessness?”
“Caution can be a virtue and can save skins.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to take a risk like always, then.” Tentatively, Meryl gave him a light kiss. It felt so strange, her mouth touching his with now what seemed to be casualness, but she was still very coy. It was still so foreign, so dreamlike, and she couldn’t help but think time and time again, I can’t believe this is happening. When she drew away, he merely leaned forward to continue what she had stopped. He was gentle with his movements, slowly easing her mouth open with his tongue. She felt his hand move from her back to the front of her shirt, and slowly begin to unfasten a few more of the buttons. With hesitance, he ran a fingertip experimentally along her collarbone, making her shiver and her skin prickle into gooseflesh. As he entertained her mouth with his and kept her close, his hand traveled lower, tracing just over her breasts but not quite reaching for the money that was nestled between them. His index touched her nipple through the silky black material of her bra, teasing and eliciting soft, pleading moans from her.
“Shh,” he murmured, “not so loud.” He then cupped her breast, circling his thumb over and over only to have her lean toward him and shrug off more of her blouse. The demanding ache between her legs burned with his every bold caress, and soon she was tugging at his top, telling him without words that she wanted him to remove it. Vash tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek. “Not now, insurance girl.” His fingers idly drifted to the valley between breasts, plucked the ten double-dollar bill out from between them, and put it back in his pocket, which ultimately marked the end of his mission.
Childishly, she protested with a light thrust of her hips. “Why do you keep teasing me like that?” she asked, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him flush. Making quite sure he could see how displeased she was, she growled, “You’re… you’re going to drive me insane.”
“How do you think I feel?” he retorted. His cheeks were dusted with a deep red, and his aqua-green eyes were clouded with what was unmistakable want. “With you all over me, it’s kind of hard to keep myself in line, you know? I’m trying my best, but you’re making it really hard to for me to be responsible.”
Meryl could easily feel what he was referring to. “I… I know that, but… Damn it, broom-head, if you’re going to do this to me, at least finish!” She huffed, letting go of him to cross her arms again out of frustration. Since when was responsibility ever his concern? It’s not like he did any chores or took care of the grocery shopping. The only responsibility that he ever worried about was hightailing it out of town whenever trouble happened to come up. Her irate glare must have worked, for the next thing she knew, a diligent, eager hand had moved in between her legs. Meryl bit her lip in surprise, swallowing a gasp. “Wh-… What are you doing?”
Vash’s fingers rubbed against her in slow, torturous strokes. “What’s it feel like I’m doing?” he asked sarcastically.
Her undergarments and tights were already plenty damp from before, and his meticulous ministrations were only making her wetter. “Yes, but… you-what about-?” As his thumb touched over a particularly sensitive place, the rest of her sentence was lost in the confines of her throat.
“Er, don’t worry about it. Cold shower.” He grinned nervously as he picked up the pace.
Restraining a groan, Meryl tried her best to roll her hips in time with his fingers, savoring each spark of pleasure that coursed through her lower belly that he created. However, she wasn’t entirely satisfied; every caress was hindered by her cumbersome clothes. I wish he’d take them off, she thought, but she didn’t have the breath to voice it. Instead, her mouth kept on whispering, “Faster, please… Vash, faster.” The delightful, hurting need that had awoken inside of her coiled, strengthened, and demanded with such fire to be satisfied. When it wasn’t, she spread her legs wider or clamped them shut by impulse, and they were only being held apart by his hips. The vexing fabric that was brushing against her was both aggravating and exciting; she was irritated because she couldn’t feel his skin, but having him doing this to her compensated for it all. With such sensations clouding her senses and sending her logic astray, Meryl was unsure exactly what to feel. She drowned in his scent and was helpless to his touch; squirming, she ground harder against his hand. Everything was starting to become a dizzy, felicific blur.
“Good morning, Mister Vash. Do you know if breakfast is ready yet?”
And suddenly, everything came to an urgent, crashing stop. His fingers were no longer moving, but held completely still. The needy ache deep within her continued to persist; she had been almost there, just near the cusp, and now she was abruptly denied it for no reason? Meryl wanted to grab him and force him to go on and to push her over the edge, but her sense slowly came crawling back: this was, indeed, a very serious situation. M-Milly? I-I thought she was going to get a shower! But… how long has it been? How long have we been like this?
Vash couldn’t seem to find the ability to speak. Instead, he sheepishly looked over his shoulder with his face a bright, visible crimson. Milly’s lengthy, light brown hair was damp and she was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee-shirt; simple, casual wear for such a languid day. When the taller insurance agent tilted her head to the side out of curiosity to glance past him, she instantly clasped her hands over her mouth with a gasp and backed away. “Oh, I-I’m sorry!” she blurted, her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. “Mister Vash, sempai, I didn’t mean to intrude! I’ll… I’ll leave and go collect all of the dirty clothes!” With that, she darted out of the room without another word.
Meryl was still panting, her fists balled up in the cloth of his scarlet shirt. I… I can’t believe she saw that! Frustrated beyond reason and mortified beyond comprehension, she let her head fall in defeat with a heavy sigh against his chest. “Vash…”
He removed his hand from between her legs, rubbing his fingers together as he held it up. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You have another load of laundry to do, right?”
Halfheartedly, she nodded in reply. “Help me down, will you?” His arms curled around her and lifted, picking her up from the countertop. When she was set safely upon the floor, Meryl tugged her skirt down to its proper place. She took a quick glance to the coffee that was still sitting on the counter from earlier, hoping that she could perhaps take a glass or two to pacify herself from the humiliation of being walked in on. “You owe me, Vash.”
His expression turned from discomfiture to puzzlement. Brows knitting, he asked, “What, for not helping you with the laundry or for teasing you?”
“Both,” she said, walking toward him to grab him through his sweatpants. Meryl could see his body go rigid and she heard him suck in a shaky breath, which made her lips curve into a devious smile. Her plan might not have gone all that well, but she could at least make him suffer like she had. Having him assist with the next batch of laundry would prove be most interesting. “That, and the coffee’s already cold, broom-head. You’re my hostage, now.”
Fandom: Trigun
Characters: VashxMeryl
Prompt: #12, coffee
Word Count: 6,819
Rating: Er... NC-17, or thereabouts.
Notes: The double-dollar is the currency on Gunsmoke, and this is basically crack. Initially, I didn't mean for it to be this long, but it just kept going and going and ended up writing itself. Rated for sexual content. On a kitchen counter. And its utter silliness. Bah, this took forever and a day to HTML. D:
[x-posted to vash_meryl and fic_simplicity; #4 prompt of "laundry."]
Captor & Hostage
It was a rather odd thing to think, but nothing really smelled as good as clean laundry. It had the sort of unique, welcoming smell that reminded her of home, or perhaps a lazy Sunday morning where she would be off work, free to be idle for a change. Oh, and coffee at the crack of dawn smelled good, too, of course. In fact, the both of them made her feel downright fuzzy inside. Not that she was ready to openly admit that to anyone, mind. It was her little secret that no one else would have to know.
After she scooped up the fresh batch of clothing and put it into a light blue laundry basket, she headed out of the laundry area and dutifully made her way to her bedroom. Being an orthodox person in almost every manner, she figured it that it was best to put away her things before she went onto Milly’s and Vash’s. It would be easier that way. Socks, blouses, tights, undergarments, her cape, and blue jeans for casual wear were plucked out of the basket, folded, and stashed away, one by one. At one point, she had found a ten double-dollar bill while rooting around, which most certainly made her day. Chuckling to herself, she stuffed it into a pocket of her shirt. As she made her way down the hallway, she wondered about how the bill had come to find itself amongst the laundry. That broom-head, he probably forgot to take the money out of his pants or something. Oh, well… It’s mine, now. I’ll think of it as a tip for washing his clothes so often. That thought made her smile to herself. Vash could be so absentminded sometimes.
“Good morning,” greeted Milly, sleepily watching Meryl as she entered. She still had her fluffy pajamas on, and her long, light brown hair looked as if she had been out in a roaring sandstorm all night. Sitting placidly on her bed, she asked, “How are you doing today?”
Meryl set the basket on the edge of the bed and began to select Milly’s things from the rest of its contents. “I’m all right,” she replied with a smile. “Just putting away some clothes before I go off to make breakfast. Did you sleep well?”
She nodded, fighting back a yawn. “I sure did, sempai. I dreamed about him again.” She didn’t need to clarify who ‘him’ was for Meryl to know. Milly had been having many dreams of the priest, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, lately; after his untimely death, she really seemed to miss him. Meryl had the notion that she cared about him more than a friend ever could. “He told me that everything’s going to be all right,” she continued softly. “I believe him. Even though he didn’t tell me much, I believe him.”
“Everything will be all right,” Meryl agreed. “He was a little bit odd, but there isn’t any reason why we shouldn’t trust him.” Handing her friend her shirts, pants, and other clothing, she said, “Here. And where do you keep your work uniform again?”
Milly shrugged as she curled her arms around the laundry, accepting it. “Just put it on the dresser for now. I’ll put it away in a bit after I get changed and take a shower. Thanks, sempai.”
After Meryl had folded the uniform and placed it upon Milly’s bureau, she exited her room with the light blue basket and sauntered into Vash’s. It was dark and dim inside as she entered; he kept the blinds closed so he wouldn’t be roused by the suns and could sleep in on the weekends. The man himself was a lump in the center of the bed, covers wrapped around his thin and lanky frame. A shock of blond hair could be seen poking out from the blankets. Smiling, she set the basket down on the clothing-strewn floor, which had pairs of boxers and random socks tossed about, and yanked the blinds open.
Instantly, Vash gave a start. “Ah, light! Turn it off!” Seeming aggravated, he nuzzled deeper into his haven of covers to shield himself from the bright rays of the suns. “It’s morning already? Just a few more minutes, insurance girl-I swear I’ll be up by then…”
Meryl grabbed the blankets from him and pulled. “C’mon, needle-noggin, time to get up. After this I’m cooking breakfast. If you’re not there by the time I get started, you’re not getting any.”
His drowsy look of disapproval and his disheveled appearance made her laugh. “Fine, fine, I’m up, I’m up.” He wrinkled his nose as he ran a hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair. After letting out a yawn, he stretched and pulled himself out of bed. By the time he was opening a few more of the blinds to let the morning light in, Meryl was nearly halfway done with folding all of his clothes. Sweatpants, jeans, and shirts were already laid out on the edge of his mattress, and she currently had a select pair of boxers in hand. He was then suddenly hovering over her; she could feel the heat of his body though he wasn’t touching her.
“Is it really that interesting?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to see him watching rather attentively.
“You do it so neatly.” He leaned down and rested his chin upon her shoulder. “It’s like you’re working or something.”
Meryl rolled her eyes, trying to ignore his sudden closeness. “In case you haven’t noticed, it is work, Vash. Chores are work. What world have you been living in?”
Vash chuckled nervously. “Er, okay. Point taken. Maybe I should rephrase that.”
“Yes, I think you should.”
“How about, ‘You do it really meticulously, almost like you’re writing your insurance reports’?” Lifting his chin away, he reached out and took one of the shirts that she had already folded. Tilting his head to one side, he held it up and unfurled it. It was a lovely dark red and long-sleeved; one of his newer tops that she had bought him recently.
“That’s better.” But when she saw him with the clean shirt in hand, she immediately snapped with, “Hey, what are you doing? I just-!”
“I know, I know, I’m ruining your hard work, insurance girl,” he said in an admonishing tone. “You know well enough that I’d like to stay in pajamas all day, but if I did, you’d scold me for it. So, to humor you and to save my skin, I’m going to change into something different. All right?” His complacent smile made her want to smack him, but she let it slide. It was far too early to get into an argument.
“Yes, all right,” she sighed, picking up the laundry basket. “Just make sure to put all of your clothes away. Neatly, please. And pick all of this up off of the floor, will you? It’s disgusting.” He simply flashed her an innocent grin as she left. It must’ve been contagious somehow, for it crept onto her mouth and curved her lips, too.
Light from the suns spilled golden rays onto the kitchen floor, making the room look cozy and picturesque. Meryl, sitting patiently at the table, was waiting for a pot of coffee to finish percolating. Its delicious smell that wafted through the warm morning air tempted her a bit too much. She was half grateful that Vash was the first one to enter; at least she would be somewhat distracted by him and wouldn’t go running for the caffeine right away.
“G’morning,” he said, sleepily rubbing at his eyes, “even though I probably shouldn’t be saying that since I had such a rude awakening.” He had donned that red shirt that he had picked up earlier, and instead of his gray pajama bottoms, he had on a pair of black sweatpants. However, his blond hair was still as tousled as it had been when he had awoke with many strands sticking out this way and that; it appeared that he was feeling particularly lethargic this morning.
Meryl only sighed at his remark. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning, broom-head. It’s not that bad. You get up earlier than I do on the weekdays, so stop complaining. You’re an outlaw! Why don’t you act like one for once?”
“Act like one, huh?” His expression turned from drowsy to delightfully mischievous within seconds. “All right, then, insurance girl. If that’s what you want.” She didn’t have enough time to take back what she had said. Before she could protest, his arms were curled around her waist and he had lifted her clear out of her chair.
“Let me go!” she growled, squirming and thrashing as violently as she could in attempt to break free. Her back was pressed uncomfortably close against his chest; she could feel some of his scars beneath the fabric of his shirt. Not that it was bothersome to feel his scars, but with him nearly squeezing the life out of her, the nearness definitely presented a problem. His arms were just beneath her breasts, and she was positive that them being there wasn’t just an accident. “Damn it, this isn’t what I meant! Let me go!”
“Shh. You’re my hostage, now,” he said in a low voice. “You’d better be a good insurance girl if you want to be released.”
Hostage? What the hell’s gotten into you, Vash? At that simple statement, she made an even greater effort to escape. She was no one’s hostage, especially not needle-noggined Vash the Stampede’s. “Stop acting like a kid,” she retorted. “This is absolutely stupid. Let me go already!”
“Kid?” He sounded incredulous. “I’m an outlaw, not a kid. I capture beautiful maidens and ransom them for money-that is, if they don’t fall in love with me, first. Then it becomes rather difficult to give them back to their families.”
Oh, the bloody nerve this man had. Meryl wanted so badly to strike him, but unfortunately for her, her arms were rendered incapable of doing so; they were held quite firmly to her sides. “Like a girl in the right mind would actually fall in love with her captor. Genius, Vash. Absolutely genius. I bet you’ll be a great romance novelist some day.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“You think so? Eh, I was thinking about writing more of an action-adventure story with only a dash of romance. But the hero gets the girl, of course.”
“Would this particular hero happen to be blond?” she asked wryly.
“Only if this particular girl happens to be short.” Meryl knew well enough that he was smirking; his voice easily gave it away.
“You’re ridiculous, Vash!” There seemed to be no sensible way out of this dilemma that she could see. She huffed, finally giving up. “Fine, I’ll play along. But you’d better let me go after this for your own good.”
She heard him chuckle behind her. “That’s my insurance girl. Now, being my hostage, you must do everything I say.”
“Nothing indecent, I hope,” she muttered under her breath.
Vash rested his chin upon her head, nestling amongst her soft black hair. “Everything and anything I say,” he repeated, loosening his grip around her but still keeping her close. She felt his arms lightly brush against the bottom of her breasts as he moved. “And firstly, I want you to start making breakfast, you lazy insurance girl.”
“How can I when you’re holding onto me like this?” she asked. “You have to let go if you want something to eat.”
“I suppose I do. Can I trust you to not run away if I should decide to release you?”
“I can’t make any promises, broom-head.”
“Then you’re staying put.”
More frustrated than ever, her efforts to escape from him were doubled. With some wild thrashing, Meryl finally managed to wrench her arms free. She tried to run out of the kitchen, but his hand latching around her wrist made her stop short in her hurried tracks. “Damn it, let me go!” Before she could do (or shout) anything else, she was whirled around and pulled right toward him, knocking forcefully into his body. Vash yelped on impact and lost his balance. The trip to the floor was less pleasant than the landing, but at least something soft had broken her fall. Gritting her teeth, feeling somewhat dizzy, she lifted herself with her hands and maneuvered her legs into a more comfortable position. “Just look what you did, needle-noggin. Now, I…” Trailing off, she realized that he was directly beneath her. His mouth was inches away, slightly parted and appearing expectant. She didn’t have the sense or will to finish her sentence.
Vash smirked, and his aqua-green eyes glinted with satisfaction. She had absentmindedly situated herself in the oddest possible way; her legs set on both of his sides, she was straddling him. “Now this is a wake-up call,” he purred, his hands sliding down her sides to cup her hips. Firmly, he held her in place as he sat upward and pressed his forehead against hers. “You know, I think you oughta be my hostage more often.” His voice was deeper, huskier than before; it insinuated something that she found all too apparent.
Meryl’s face grew terribly hot with him staring at her like that. His fingers gently massaging her felt so awkward and the sheer closeness made her anxious. “Maybe I should,” she muttered quietly in agreement, positive that he could hear her even though she barely whispered it. It made her feel so strange, straddling his hips like she was, yet a part of her didn’t mind so much. In fact, that part really liked it. Her heart was hastily racing in her chest; she thought for sure that it was going to leap straight into her throat when he nuzzled her neck.
Softly, he inhaled. “You smell good, insurance girl.” He gave a light, tentative kiss to her skin. “And I bet you taste good, too.”
She took a deep, shaky breath, discovering that she could smell him, as well. She hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was lying right on top of him, she could. That’s right, he’s wearing what I gave him earlier… Trying not to let him notice, she sniffed again. God, he smells wonderful. Okay, so there was something that smelled better than clean laundry: Vash wearing it.
Then, suddenly, the coffee began to make a raucous gurgling noise. To her relief, it broke her clear out of the short spell that had taken hold of her. Tensing at the sounds, she lifted herself from his warm body without any other thoughts aside from getting as far away from him as possible. His hands grew lax and slid down her thighs and calves as she stood, causing her to tremble lightly beneath them. As fast as she could without looking too terribly rushed, she walked over to the coffee pot and turned it off. Meryl sighed mentally. What on Gunsmoke has gotten into him so suddenly? He’s acting more perverse than usual. I mean, he… he never does that! He’s hugged me once or twice, maybe even ruffled my hair or something stupid along those lines, but never that! What the hell is going on in that needle-noggined skull of his? Mind somewhat pleasurably fuzzy and thoughts rather rampant, she busied herself with retrieving a glass out of the cabinet above her, still wondering about why he had done something so… bold. She was hoping that he was finished with his little game, but when she heard him come up behind her again, she set the mug down on the counter and readily braced herself for more of his bizarre behavior.
“Who said you could be released?” he asked, curling an arm around her waist. “The infamous outlaw, Vash the Stampede, isn’t done with you just yet.” She froze in place when his hand drifted right over her breast. “And I do believe that you have something of mine, insurance girl.” His fingers crept into the pocket of her blouse, gliding along the surface of the material until they came across a folded ten double-dollar bill. His touch turned her skin beneath into gooseflesh.
He-why, that idiot! He made me think that he wanted me when he was just going after that double-dollar bill! That must’ve been his plan the entire time. “Hey, I know! I’ll get Meryl all flustered with my good-for-nothing antics so she won’t fight back when I go to reach for my money that I was stupid enough to leave in my pants!” She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from gnawing his hand off as it slid its way from inside her pocket. Then, she had a sudden idea. It was not in her nature to think of doing such a thing, but the need for revenge was far too demanding to ignore. With what she had in mind, she could effortlessly get him back and make him sorry that he had ever thought to play such a cruel prank on her. Slowly, she turned herself around in his hold and placed a hand on his chest, stopping him short. “Do I have permission to do my captor a favor as his hostage?” she asked as sweetly as she could manage.
Vash arched an eyebrow. Already he was suspicious. “It all depends,” he said, his voice carrying a slight tone of curiosity. “Will I like it?”
Trying to hide a smile was becoming very difficult; her own muscles betrayed her. “You might.”
“Might, huh?” His cheeks were the slightest shade of red, but his eyes held a hopeful sparkle. “Doesn’t sound too promising.”
“All right, then. You will like it. Better?” She loved the way his face had gained such a satisfied expression. It wouldn’t be that way for much longer, though.
“Mmhm,” he muttered in reply, leaning forward.
Her hand on his chest trailed up to his chin; with her thumb and forefinger, she captured it between them and held it in place. “Not so fast,” she warned softly. Her other hand slid along his side in leisure strokes, her nails gently tracing around and scraping at his scars. The smile upon her mouth broadened considerably when she felt him shiver at her touch; that was exactly the reaction that she had been looking for. Then, with great care, she brushed her bottom lip against his. The delighted shock that it sent throughout her when skin touched skin was not something that she had expected, however.
When she pulled away out of surprise, a short moan of protest came from his throat. His arm around her tightened and pressed her closer; she was soon almost entirely flush with his body. Vash’s scent was sublime, and the smell of the freshly brewed coffee just beside her only bettered it. The atmosphere of the room had changed from lighthearted to something else entirely.
What did I get myself into? Meryl wondered worriedly. Maybe that kiss-could you even call it a kiss?-was too much. Vash’s other hand, the one with the double-dollar bill clutched inside of it, reached out for the counter behind her. Seeing it as her chance, she moved her fingers from his side and skimmed them down his arm, cupping his hand with hers and deterring it from its course. The money, she found, was no longer there. Damn. Where could he have put it? It’s not on the counter…
Another quiet moan rumbled forth. He tried to lean forward to kiss her, but she held him firmly. “C’mon,” he urged in hushed tones, pressing closer. “Hostages aren’t supposed to tease. You’re teasing me.”
“But you like it, don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
His hand laced its fingers with hers. “… Yes.” He squeezed, needily. “God, yes.” Vash’s eyes were half open and misted over with what exactly she had felt. “You’re my hostage, insurance girl… Anything I say.”
To sate him, she diffidently kissed him on the cheek. It was feathery-light and it could scarcely be called a kiss, but her lips did indeed touch him for a split moment. “That enough?” She gave him a sly, wanton grin to accompany the apparent sarcasm. All right, it’s time to get that ten back. Meryl cautiously flexed her fingers to test her ground, only to feel Vash respond and flex back. It didn’t seem that he knew of her intentions. Damn. He won’t let go and he’ll suspect if I do… Then, her thoughts turned to the hold that she still had on his chin. Her eyes dropped to his lips, which looked so enticing from how close she was. If I let go, she thought, he’ll… he’ll kiss me. The very notion made butterflies erupt within her stomach; her heart rate soared and she felt her face heat up to an uncomfortable level again. Meryl couldn’t help but be nervous. But it’s either now or never. I have to show him that I can’t be so easily swayed or distracted like he can. With that final thought in mind, she released him.
Warm lips claiming hers in an instant nearly made her lose her balance. His tongue gently coaxed her mouth open and made her sigh as his arm kept her close. For a moment, the feeling of him made her lose all coherent thought. Come on, come on, she scolded herself, concentrate! You can do better than this! But concentration was much easier said than done. With him rubbing against her, pinning her alongside the counter, and nibbling playfully at her lower lip, she had the hardest time maintaining her composure. The reality of it struck her with such force that she briefly forgot to breathe: he was actually kissing her, and with such eagerness that it was breathtaking.
Finally, regaining what dignity she could scrape up from the floor of her mind, Meryl managed to place her free hand in the small of his back. His shirt was soft and smooth to the touch, but it wasn’t what she was aiming for; money couldn’t be kept there. Continuing her descent, she slithered down to his rear, and while doing so, she felt like such a lecher. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one doing this sort of thing? However, just as she had expected, he indeed had back pockets. The temptation was a little too much for her to bear, and losing control for a mere second, she took her chance and squeezed.
She heard Vash chuckle. The hand that had been cupping her side slid down to her bottom to mimic what she had just done. Pulling away from her slightly, he muttered, “Wow. I didn’t think you liked it.”
No, no, no-get back to being distracted! Ignoring his remark, she pressed flush against his body and nearly yanked him into another heated kiss. Instead of waiting for him to react, she shyly licked at his bottom lip in order to allure him and to regain his attention; she didn’t want him to discover her intent. Vash, more than likely pleased than anything else, took the bait with utter delight. Unlacing his fingers from hers, he curled his arm around her to join his left, leaving her free to search him for the ten double-dollar bill.
As he carried onward, she slowly slid her fingers into his pockets, testing and feeling around for her target. A low groan worked its way from his mouth and into hers when she rolled her hips; she could easily feel a rather conspicuous hardness through many folds and layers of clothing. What made her grip him rougher was that she was turning him on, and it surprised her on so many different levels-she had never done such a thing before. Still, she couldn’t help but revel in her newfound power. Vash gently massaged her tongue with his own, partially sidetracking her from the piece of creased paper in his right back pocket. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought wryly, lightly toying with the ends of the bill, as if unsure as to whether or not to take it. And… my god, I’m enjoying it. I’m really enjoying it. Her hands groped him one last time before she snatched the money. Meryl knew well enough that now was the time to stop, but the delicious ache that had settled between her legs told her otherwise. His lips were so soft and his tongue was so hot; every kiss was feverish, even when he drew away to pay attention to her neck. She soon found herself whispering his name while he lifted her up onto the counter, which enabled him easy access between her thighs.
Vash playfully nipped at her earlobe. “You all right?”
Breathing rather heavily, Meryl nodded, though she was more focused on other things besides her current wellbeing. Her hands coasted from his rear to his mid-back with the elusive ten in tow. Success, she cheered within as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, but… oh, god. He’s-he’s actually… A muffled moan escaped her, breaking off her thoughts. He had run a thumb over her breast. “You’re… you’re teasing me,” she breathed, arching slightly to his touch. “I thought you were a kind outlaw. What ever happened to ‘love and peace’?”
He smiled devilishly against her nape. “So, what’s it feel like, huh?” He repeated the action, slower this time and making quite sure that her nipple was in his path. “Hostages aren’t supposed to tease, insurance girl.”
As a response, she ground her hips against him. Vash stopped to bite his lip. “Good enough?” Meryl took the opportunity to draw her arms away. Then, after victoriously flashing the ten double-dollar bill, she stuck it down the front of her blouse and folded her arms for protection. “No ransom for you, Vash the Stampede.” A thrilled smile finished it off. The mere expression he gave her nearly made her burst into a fit of laughter. As if he had had an epiphany that had gone sour, his eyes widened in alarm and she felt all of his muscles tense. Since he couldn’t seem to find anything to retort with, his mouth just hung half open, instead. How the mighty have fallen, you notorious gunman, you. I win, Vash.
But before she could celebrate her triumph, the next thing she saw flash in front of her was a container of coffee.
In Vash’s hand.
Being threatened to be poured down the sink.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, glaring daggers.
“Insurance girl, I’ll offer you a deal. If you give me that ten you found in the laundry, then I won’t ‘accidentally’ let this spill.” He looked rather stupid there, holding the coffee pot over the sink with that bulge in his pants, but she knew well enough that he was quite serious.
“What? I don’t think so. If you want it so badly, then why don’t you come and get it?” Meryl was aware that she probably looked as silly as he did with her skirt hiked up to her thighs and the first couple of buttons of her blouse undone, but she was beyond caring at the present moment.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His eyes darted to her breasts and then back to her face.
Meryl jerked her head in the direction of his hips. “I think the very same could be said for you, broom-head.”
Shifting nervously, his cheeks flushed. “But… that’s not my fault. You did that to me-you came onto me!”
“Where have you been? You came onto me! Suddenly holding me like you did with no excuse, and then harassing me when I tripped?”
“Harassing? That wasn’t harassing! You fell on me! What was I supposed to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know, keep your hands away and make a civil attempt to help me up?” Meryl was downright infuriated. The sheer gall that this man had! She wanted to strike him to expel some of her rage, but she didn’t dare move from her spot on the countertop. What if he poured the coffee down the sink?
Vash’s face was a light red, and his eyes were fixed on her with interest. “You liked it,” he said softly. “You did, didn’t you?”
She avoided his questioning gaze by scowling very crossly at the floor. “So what if I did? You’re not going to rub it in my face, are you?”
Sighing, Vash set the coffee on the counter a good ways from the sink. The tension inside her eased up a little; at least it was no longer in jeopardy. “No. No, I wouldn’t do that. I mean, if you liked it-”
“Whoever said I liked it?” she snapped. “I didn’t say that at all!”
The next thing she knew, Vash was against her and between her thighs again. Arms hooking around her waist, he muttered, “You didn’t like it, huh? You sure?” Ever so lightly, he brushed his lips along her cheek as if to persuade her otherwise.
Wow… That feels good. Meryl tried her best to catch her breath. This man was driving her absolutely crazy. He could switch moods faster than he could fire bullets. “I… I-Y-yes, I’m sure!” Her attempts to push him away with folded arms ultimately proved to be futile; he was much stronger than she was, and therefore he could easily maintain his ground.
Vash only grinned. “I don’t believe you, insurance girl. You’re such a bad liar. You’re smiling.”
And so she was. It had just occurred to her how silly this entire situation must have looked. This is absolutely ridiculous. I can’t believe we’re practically fighting over a little piece of paper. Holding back a few giggles, she said, “Needle-noggin, I swear, you’ve got to be the craziest excuse for a man I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re the most persistent insurance agent that I’ve ever had follow me in my travels,” he said in return.
Then, she paused for a few moments, thinking of how to word the emotion that had just swelled. His hands stroked her back in a loving manner, as if he were apologizing for something that he couldn’t voice. Sighing, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. His shirt still had that pleasant, clean smell from its trip in the washing machine, though now it held more of his scent to it than before. “But you know… you’re my favorite.”
Vash chuckled. “You’re my favorite, too, insurance girl. It’s not every morning that I get adventures like this.”
Halfheartedly, she hit his chest with her fist to admonish him. “Don’t say that. It makes you sound like a pervert.”
“But isn’t that what you called me the other day?” He then began to mimic her, raising his voice to try and match her pitch: “‘Stop staring, broom-head! You’re being a pervert! And if you don’t stop, I’ll make you stop!’”
“Your impressions are horrible, Vash,” she chided him, trying not to snicker. God, he smelled so good. “That doesn’t sound anything like me at all.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” he said insouciantly. “You normally sound a lot bitchier than that.” To that, she promptly hit him in the chest with the back of her fist again. “Ouch… Hey, you weren’t so violent a little bit ago. What happened?”
We were kissing one another senseless, that’s what happened, she wanted to say, but instead, she said, “I was… preoccupied.”
“And now you’re frustrated, right? Is that why?” His hips pressed against her as he shyly nipped at her lower lip, testing how far he could go again.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. He’ll never let me live it down. Hell, I can’t believe he’s doing this. Meryl finally uncrossed her arms in surrender. “Take it,” she stated in a curt, businesslike way.
Vash halted. After staring at her in perplexity for a moment or so, he said, “Wait a minute… What?”
She took his chin purposefully between her forefinger and thumb, ensuring that he looked at her and her alone. “I said for you to take it. If you can take it from me, then you can keep it. Understood?”
He finally seemed to realize that she was referring to the money still stuffed down her blouse. A lopsided smirk curved his lips most roguishly. “So you’re telling me that I can take it and you won’t try to stop me?”
Stop you? Someone stop me. I’m losing my mind. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Hm…” He gave her a serious, deliberating gaze as his brows knit. She could nearly tell exactly that he was thinking. “Well, what if I miss the ten on accident,” he asked, “and happen to touch something else instead?”
The tone of his voice didn’t match the content of his question at all, and the obvious difference made her smile. “You ask too many questions. Whatever happened to your crazy recklessness?”
“Caution can be a virtue and can save skins.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to take a risk like always, then.” Tentatively, Meryl gave him a light kiss. It felt so strange, her mouth touching his with now what seemed to be casualness, but she was still very coy. It was still so foreign, so dreamlike, and she couldn’t help but think time and time again, I can’t believe this is happening. When she drew away, he merely leaned forward to continue what she had stopped. He was gentle with his movements, slowly easing her mouth open with his tongue. She felt his hand move from her back to the front of her shirt, and slowly begin to unfasten a few more of the buttons. With hesitance, he ran a fingertip experimentally along her collarbone, making her shiver and her skin prickle into gooseflesh. As he entertained her mouth with his and kept her close, his hand traveled lower, tracing just over her breasts but not quite reaching for the money that was nestled between them. His index touched her nipple through the silky black material of her bra, teasing and eliciting soft, pleading moans from her.
“Shh,” he murmured, “not so loud.” He then cupped her breast, circling his thumb over and over only to have her lean toward him and shrug off more of her blouse. The demanding ache between her legs burned with his every bold caress, and soon she was tugging at his top, telling him without words that she wanted him to remove it. Vash tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek. “Not now, insurance girl.” His fingers idly drifted to the valley between breasts, plucked the ten double-dollar bill out from between them, and put it back in his pocket, which ultimately marked the end of his mission.
Childishly, she protested with a light thrust of her hips. “Why do you keep teasing me like that?” she asked, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him flush. Making quite sure he could see how displeased she was, she growled, “You’re… you’re going to drive me insane.”
“How do you think I feel?” he retorted. His cheeks were dusted with a deep red, and his aqua-green eyes were clouded with what was unmistakable want. “With you all over me, it’s kind of hard to keep myself in line, you know? I’m trying my best, but you’re making it really hard to for me to be responsible.”
Meryl could easily feel what he was referring to. “I… I know that, but… Damn it, broom-head, if you’re going to do this to me, at least finish!” She huffed, letting go of him to cross her arms again out of frustration. Since when was responsibility ever his concern? It’s not like he did any chores or took care of the grocery shopping. The only responsibility that he ever worried about was hightailing it out of town whenever trouble happened to come up. Her irate glare must have worked, for the next thing she knew, a diligent, eager hand had moved in between her legs. Meryl bit her lip in surprise, swallowing a gasp. “Wh-… What are you doing?”
Vash’s fingers rubbed against her in slow, torturous strokes. “What’s it feel like I’m doing?” he asked sarcastically.
Her undergarments and tights were already plenty damp from before, and his meticulous ministrations were only making her wetter. “Yes, but… you-what about-?” As his thumb touched over a particularly sensitive place, the rest of her sentence was lost in the confines of her throat.
“Er, don’t worry about it. Cold shower.” He grinned nervously as he picked up the pace.
Restraining a groan, Meryl tried her best to roll her hips in time with his fingers, savoring each spark of pleasure that coursed through her lower belly that he created. However, she wasn’t entirely satisfied; every caress was hindered by her cumbersome clothes. I wish he’d take them off, she thought, but she didn’t have the breath to voice it. Instead, her mouth kept on whispering, “Faster, please… Vash, faster.” The delightful, hurting need that had awoken inside of her coiled, strengthened, and demanded with such fire to be satisfied. When it wasn’t, she spread her legs wider or clamped them shut by impulse, and they were only being held apart by his hips. The vexing fabric that was brushing against her was both aggravating and exciting; she was irritated because she couldn’t feel his skin, but having him doing this to her compensated for it all. With such sensations clouding her senses and sending her logic astray, Meryl was unsure exactly what to feel. She drowned in his scent and was helpless to his touch; squirming, she ground harder against his hand. Everything was starting to become a dizzy, felicific blur.
“Good morning, Mister Vash. Do you know if breakfast is ready yet?”
And suddenly, everything came to an urgent, crashing stop. His fingers were no longer moving, but held completely still. The needy ache deep within her continued to persist; she had been almost there, just near the cusp, and now she was abruptly denied it for no reason? Meryl wanted to grab him and force him to go on and to push her over the edge, but her sense slowly came crawling back: this was, indeed, a very serious situation. M-Milly? I-I thought she was going to get a shower! But… how long has it been? How long have we been like this?
Vash couldn’t seem to find the ability to speak. Instead, he sheepishly looked over his shoulder with his face a bright, visible crimson. Milly’s lengthy, light brown hair was damp and she was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee-shirt; simple, casual wear for such a languid day. When the taller insurance agent tilted her head to the side out of curiosity to glance past him, she instantly clasped her hands over her mouth with a gasp and backed away. “Oh, I-I’m sorry!” she blurted, her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. “Mister Vash, sempai, I didn’t mean to intrude! I’ll… I’ll leave and go collect all of the dirty clothes!” With that, she darted out of the room without another word.
Meryl was still panting, her fists balled up in the cloth of his scarlet shirt. I… I can’t believe she saw that! Frustrated beyond reason and mortified beyond comprehension, she let her head fall in defeat with a heavy sigh against his chest. “Vash…”
He removed his hand from between her legs, rubbing his fingers together as he held it up. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You have another load of laundry to do, right?”
Halfheartedly, she nodded in reply. “Help me down, will you?” His arms curled around her and lifted, picking her up from the countertop. When she was set safely upon the floor, Meryl tugged her skirt down to its proper place. She took a quick glance to the coffee that was still sitting on the counter from earlier, hoping that she could perhaps take a glass or two to pacify herself from the humiliation of being walked in on. “You owe me, Vash.”
His expression turned from discomfiture to puzzlement. Brows knitting, he asked, “What, for not helping you with the laundry or for teasing you?”
“Both,” she said, walking toward him to grab him through his sweatpants. Meryl could see his body go rigid and she heard him suck in a shaky breath, which made her lips curve into a devious smile. Her plan might not have gone all that well, but she could at least make him suffer like she had. Having him assist with the next batch of laundry would prove be most interesting. “That, and the coffee’s already cold, broom-head. You’re my hostage, now.”