Araignée (Fic)(Trigun)(One-sided KnivesxVash, KnivesxLegato,WolfwoodxVash)
Author’s Notes: Four people, three relationships. Not a pretty picture. A companion to the Vivre series of fic. Legato finally gets his side of the story told. Roughly translated the title means Spider. Going along with a theme with the French titles.
Araignée
by Sailor Lilith-chan
Spiders crawl along, weaving endless webs.
Humans crawl along, weaving endless lies.
In this world, there are different sorts of spiders.
***
“I am very disappointed in you.”
At those words, Legato felt himself harden. It was a very inappropriate response for the situation at hand. Would Master beat him? Would he use the whip this time? He shifted his legs apart and bent further down. Those cold blue eyes looked down at him. His god’s eyes. If he were allowed to, he would sigh with longing. His erection straining his trousers demanded that he open his zipper and let himself bob free. Of course they would bob free immediately. He wore no underwear. One of the things that he had in common with his Master’s twin.
Master’s disgusting twin.
Master’s pretty twin.
“I sense disgust for my brother, Legato,” Knives crooned lowly, dangerously, “Is this true?”
Legato nodded slowly. He could keep no secrets or lies from Master for long. Knives had been the one who taught him how to refine his powers. (Master, punish me, whip me, beat me until I am half-dead, anything to feel the touch of your glorious skin against my own.) He licked his lips slowly and began to whisper. “Yes,” he said, leaning forward until his hair covered both eyes, “That is the truth.”
Knives’ frown grew larger before becoming a slight smirk on his lovely face. “I also sense desire.”
He said nothing and closed his eyes. Legato heard Knives pace around the room, both slowly and deliberately. He was sure that Knives was expecting a response from him, but he knew not what to say. “Master, I…” he finally said.
He opened them again. Knives was standing in front of him, gloriously beautiful beyond belief. “For me?
(Oh, please, oh, let him touch me just once and I could die happily.) Legato’s eyes looked up that wonderful muscular body with its slim waist and broad shoulders. Knives clothed or nude as he was now was a god in his own right. He followed the line of neck until it met with Knives’ head. Full lips smirked slightly. Blue eyes narrowed as Legato licked his lips. “Yes, Master.”
“I’m not impressed.”
Legato lowered his head again. “Master, I…” he mumbled, trying to figure out how best word he request.
“Speak clearly,” Knives paced the room, taking a moment to scratch his divine testicles. “Enunciate your words, each and every syllable. It can’t be that hard.”
“Master,” he looked up at his Master, “May I touch you?”
Knives smirked. “Keep hoping.” He laughed at Legato, shrugging into a robe, “Has the younger Chapel met up with the target?”
“Over a month ago, Master,” Legato said, trying to keep the details of his Master’s body in his mind. Perhaps Master would be so kind as to beat him. It would be too much to ask for Master Knives to make love to him. “I sense that the Priest has certain feelings for your brother.”
Legato watched as his Master tilted back his pretty blonde head and laughed. “I’m not worried. Vash has intimacy issues.”
“Meaning?” Legato asked.
Knives kissed him long and deep, “Which means today you can have what we want.” He unzipped Legato’s pants and ran his hands over the human’s muscular belly. “And I can have what I want… so… let’s play pretend.”
Legato froze. “Master… I…”
“I can pretend that you are Vash and you can pretend that I actually love you.”
Legato didn’t cry. He didn’t cry when his youngest sister had died. He had laughed when he had finally shut her up, using his power to snap of her neck in a whirl of gory red that had painted the walls. “Yes, my Master.”
***
Wolfwood had brought the alcohol before the contest, bourbon whiskey, the kind that burned when it went down. The cheap good kind, because anything else made his teeth feel terminally sticky. They had drunk away whatever was bothering them that day. Vash even more so. Meryl and Millie had been there, before Millie had done a strip tease and been taken out of the room before he could see anymore than the tops of her breasts and a flash of one pink nipple. He had reached down and discreetly adjusted himself. God, that had been a beautiful sight.
It started with a simple question. “Ever had a blowjob?”
Vash, his eyes already clouded with alcohol, man’s necktie already looped around his head, nodded slightly. “Lost count,” he said calmly, before drumming his feet on the floor, “It was nice.” His long legs bounced slightly on the fake wood of the floor, making plasticky thud every time they fell down. “Very nice.”
Wolfwood ventured to ask a little bit more. “Ever given them?”
The older man’s face hardened and Wolfwood regretted asking the question. “I think you know the answer all too well.”
(Were you on your knees, Vash? Did Knives make you take him in his mouth? Or was it mutual, your hands running over each other, mouths bringing each other to a mutual climax?) Wolfwood found himself jealous as Vash ran a finger around the rim of the shot-glass in his artificial hand.
“So-rry,” he said finally, “Guess you aren’t good at giving head.”
Vash’s eyes narrowed. (Wonder if he knows he’s drunk more than me?) “Is that a challenge?” his voice was slurred, eyes determined.
“What?” he chocked out. His cock on the other hand practically leaped at the opportunity. Rebellious prick of his. Wolfwood splayed his legs, practically advertising the lump in his pants in the world and Vash. But mostly to Vash.
“Sit!” Vash slurred out, patting the table.
He sat. “Now what?”
Vash bent down and puffed air across the groin of his slacks. Okay, he had not been expecting that. The other man began tugging his shirt out with his teeth. And he was certainly not expecting Vash to duck his head slightly and start gumming his briefs. “God, Tongari… stop being such a prick tease.”
And then he woke up from his fantasy. Vash was silently glaring at him with a “what the hell are you thinking?” look on his face. “I don’t like giving blowjobs.”
“Really,” he said, leaning over, “I think with a mouth like that-“
Vash cut him off, “What does my mouth have to do anything?”
“Nothing,” Wolfwood’s grin, if anything, could be described as being very wolflike, “Except,” he leaned in closer, “Those lips beg for my attention. I really mean it.”
He brought his mouth to Vash’s in a rather sloppy and prolonged kiss. “Oh wow,” Vash said, bringing his hands up to his mouth, “You can do that if a tongue?”
Wolfwood worked on opening Vash’s pants on his bodysuit. He was mildly surprised that Vash wore no underwear. He would have figured Vash as a boxers man. “Want more?”
“Yes please.”
***
“A poor player who struts and frets his hour on the stage and is no more.”
Legato looked up at him. Knives, his perfect idol. “Master, that was beautiful. Who wrote it?”
“I did,” said Knives, who knew Legato had never heard of William Shakespeare. “Are you ready?”
Legato nodded, testing the bonds that bound him to the bed. “I am.”
***
Knives used no lubricant. There was no pleasure in the act for either of them. Legato was much too tight and Knives ended up continuing even though he might have ended up crippling his servant. He wasn’t happy. Even if he squinted his eyes and turned his head to the left, there was so much wrong. That blue hair would never be blonde, those gold eyes would never be green. And that tanned body would never be cream scarred by humanity. Still a prick was a prick. While Legato was smaller, the warmth was there. Knives stroked the flesh beneath his hand. At a touch it grew erect and warm in his hand. “Yes,” he crooned to the person he straddled, “My beloved Vashu.”
From beneath him, Legato cried out in that soft voice of his. Never had Legato Bluesummers ever screamed or talked above a whisper. And never before had Vash said he loved him when he had made love to him. “Ah, Master… please…”
He licked his brother’s hand after caressing it and whispering sweet nothings to it. “Legato,” a casual callous remark, “Do you think he feels when I do this?” and punctuated the statement with a short hard thrust into the body below.
Legato’s visible gold eye widened, “I can feel it… Master.”
His fist connected with the bridge of Legato’s nose, before the telepath could utter another word. Knives watched the blood trickle out of the other man’s nostrils, before the situation got the best of him and he pounded into Legato hard enough to cause serious injury. Which would be more than that cause by the fact he had taken Legato dry. Legato did not scream, did not doing anything. He just laid there on blood stained sheets, a perfect little corpse.
“This is not for your pleasure… Bluesummers.”
He could feel the bitterness of the human’s, caused simply by pointing out, that despite his best efforts, he would be nothing. Knives simply smiled and withdrew, wiping himself clean. He knew that if there was one thing that could cause pain to Legato, it was calling him by his last name.
Sighing he walked to the door. The room reeked of sex and blood. He would stay were it not for the smell of human. “Clean it up!” he snapped, “And I expect you to use your tongue to do so.”
“Master,” Legato managed to stand, blood trickling from his nose and down his legs, “I will do so. But please…”
“You’re only a human.”
A tear ran from Legato’s eye. “Master… I…”
“That is the pain of life… deal with it.”
***
The door slid closed and Legato found himself laughing. Master had touched him.
Only to beat him…
But Master had touched him.
He was callous.
But Master had made love to him.
He had thrown him over the bed and screwed him dry.
“He touched me,” Legato whispered in wonder, reaching around to brush himself. Five fingers came back tipped in blood. Legato’s smile grew greater. “I thank you for this gift.”
Master wasn’t there to hear Legato’s words of thanks. Closing his eyes, he could sense Master had once again returned to his regeneration chamber to rest. Master deserved such rest after such a session.
Legato blinked in the surprise as a phantom mouth caressed him. In surprise, he leaned back and allowed to happen. Only a few minutes into it and he realized that Knives hadn’t decided to pay him a surprise visit in phantom form. This came from the man who owned the limb.
What was Master’s brother doing right now? Frowning, Legato concentrated, biting his lip until it bled until he could see the room that the Stampede was in. He could feel the rough plastic of a chair on his buttocks, denim on his legs, and coat on his back.
He would enjoy this.
Vash looked down for the briefest second. He could see black hair, tan skin, flash of an oversized nose as… as…
Legato broke away from the vision, feeling utterly and impossibly sick. He wobbled over to bathroom and for the first time he retched. He was in disbelief at his own situation and the situation that his Master’s twin was experiencing.
“How?” he groaned, “How could such a perfect being have sex with a human? Why, Master would never do that… it’s perfectly beastly.”
The End
Araignée
by Sailor Lilith-chan
Spiders crawl along, weaving endless webs.
Humans crawl along, weaving endless lies.
In this world, there are different sorts of spiders.
***
“I am very disappointed in you.”
At those words, Legato felt himself harden. It was a very inappropriate response for the situation at hand. Would Master beat him? Would he use the whip this time? He shifted his legs apart and bent further down. Those cold blue eyes looked down at him. His god’s eyes. If he were allowed to, he would sigh with longing. His erection straining his trousers demanded that he open his zipper and let himself bob free. Of course they would bob free immediately. He wore no underwear. One of the things that he had in common with his Master’s twin.
Master’s disgusting twin.
Master’s pretty twin.
“I sense disgust for my brother, Legato,” Knives crooned lowly, dangerously, “Is this true?”
Legato nodded slowly. He could keep no secrets or lies from Master for long. Knives had been the one who taught him how to refine his powers. (Master, punish me, whip me, beat me until I am half-dead, anything to feel the touch of your glorious skin against my own.) He licked his lips slowly and began to whisper. “Yes,” he said, leaning forward until his hair covered both eyes, “That is the truth.”
Knives’ frown grew larger before becoming a slight smirk on his lovely face. “I also sense desire.”
He said nothing and closed his eyes. Legato heard Knives pace around the room, both slowly and deliberately. He was sure that Knives was expecting a response from him, but he knew not what to say. “Master, I…” he finally said.
He opened them again. Knives was standing in front of him, gloriously beautiful beyond belief. “For me?
(Oh, please, oh, let him touch me just once and I could die happily.) Legato’s eyes looked up that wonderful muscular body with its slim waist and broad shoulders. Knives clothed or nude as he was now was a god in his own right. He followed the line of neck until it met with Knives’ head. Full lips smirked slightly. Blue eyes narrowed as Legato licked his lips. “Yes, Master.”
“I’m not impressed.”
Legato lowered his head again. “Master, I…” he mumbled, trying to figure out how best word he request.
“Speak clearly,” Knives paced the room, taking a moment to scratch his divine testicles. “Enunciate your words, each and every syllable. It can’t be that hard.”
“Master,” he looked up at his Master, “May I touch you?”
Knives smirked. “Keep hoping.” He laughed at Legato, shrugging into a robe, “Has the younger Chapel met up with the target?”
“Over a month ago, Master,” Legato said, trying to keep the details of his Master’s body in his mind. Perhaps Master would be so kind as to beat him. It would be too much to ask for Master Knives to make love to him. “I sense that the Priest has certain feelings for your brother.”
Legato watched as his Master tilted back his pretty blonde head and laughed. “I’m not worried. Vash has intimacy issues.”
“Meaning?” Legato asked.
Knives kissed him long and deep, “Which means today you can have what we want.” He unzipped Legato’s pants and ran his hands over the human’s muscular belly. “And I can have what I want… so… let’s play pretend.”
Legato froze. “Master… I…”
“I can pretend that you are Vash and you can pretend that I actually love you.”
Legato didn’t cry. He didn’t cry when his youngest sister had died. He had laughed when he had finally shut her up, using his power to snap of her neck in a whirl of gory red that had painted the walls. “Yes, my Master.”
***
Wolfwood had brought the alcohol before the contest, bourbon whiskey, the kind that burned when it went down. The cheap good kind, because anything else made his teeth feel terminally sticky. They had drunk away whatever was bothering them that day. Vash even more so. Meryl and Millie had been there, before Millie had done a strip tease and been taken out of the room before he could see anymore than the tops of her breasts and a flash of one pink nipple. He had reached down and discreetly adjusted himself. God, that had been a beautiful sight.
It started with a simple question. “Ever had a blowjob?”
Vash, his eyes already clouded with alcohol, man’s necktie already looped around his head, nodded slightly. “Lost count,” he said calmly, before drumming his feet on the floor, “It was nice.” His long legs bounced slightly on the fake wood of the floor, making plasticky thud every time they fell down. “Very nice.”
Wolfwood ventured to ask a little bit more. “Ever given them?”
The older man’s face hardened and Wolfwood regretted asking the question. “I think you know the answer all too well.”
(Were you on your knees, Vash? Did Knives make you take him in his mouth? Or was it mutual, your hands running over each other, mouths bringing each other to a mutual climax?) Wolfwood found himself jealous as Vash ran a finger around the rim of the shot-glass in his artificial hand.
“So-rry,” he said finally, “Guess you aren’t good at giving head.”
Vash’s eyes narrowed. (Wonder if he knows he’s drunk more than me?) “Is that a challenge?” his voice was slurred, eyes determined.
“What?” he chocked out. His cock on the other hand practically leaped at the opportunity. Rebellious prick of his. Wolfwood splayed his legs, practically advertising the lump in his pants in the world and Vash. But mostly to Vash.
“Sit!” Vash slurred out, patting the table.
He sat. “Now what?”
Vash bent down and puffed air across the groin of his slacks. Okay, he had not been expecting that. The other man began tugging his shirt out with his teeth. And he was certainly not expecting Vash to duck his head slightly and start gumming his briefs. “God, Tongari… stop being such a prick tease.”
And then he woke up from his fantasy. Vash was silently glaring at him with a “what the hell are you thinking?” look on his face. “I don’t like giving blowjobs.”
“Really,” he said, leaning over, “I think with a mouth like that-“
Vash cut him off, “What does my mouth have to do anything?”
“Nothing,” Wolfwood’s grin, if anything, could be described as being very wolflike, “Except,” he leaned in closer, “Those lips beg for my attention. I really mean it.”
He brought his mouth to Vash’s in a rather sloppy and prolonged kiss. “Oh wow,” Vash said, bringing his hands up to his mouth, “You can do that if a tongue?”
Wolfwood worked on opening Vash’s pants on his bodysuit. He was mildly surprised that Vash wore no underwear. He would have figured Vash as a boxers man. “Want more?”
“Yes please.”
***
“A poor player who struts and frets his hour on the stage and is no more.”
Legato looked up at him. Knives, his perfect idol. “Master, that was beautiful. Who wrote it?”
“I did,” said Knives, who knew Legato had never heard of William Shakespeare. “Are you ready?”
Legato nodded, testing the bonds that bound him to the bed. “I am.”
***
Knives used no lubricant. There was no pleasure in the act for either of them. Legato was much too tight and Knives ended up continuing even though he might have ended up crippling his servant. He wasn’t happy. Even if he squinted his eyes and turned his head to the left, there was so much wrong. That blue hair would never be blonde, those gold eyes would never be green. And that tanned body would never be cream scarred by humanity. Still a prick was a prick. While Legato was smaller, the warmth was there. Knives stroked the flesh beneath his hand. At a touch it grew erect and warm in his hand. “Yes,” he crooned to the person he straddled, “My beloved Vashu.”
From beneath him, Legato cried out in that soft voice of his. Never had Legato Bluesummers ever screamed or talked above a whisper. And never before had Vash said he loved him when he had made love to him. “Ah, Master… please…”
He licked his brother’s hand after caressing it and whispering sweet nothings to it. “Legato,” a casual callous remark, “Do you think he feels when I do this?” and punctuated the statement with a short hard thrust into the body below.
Legato’s visible gold eye widened, “I can feel it… Master.”
His fist connected with the bridge of Legato’s nose, before the telepath could utter another word. Knives watched the blood trickle out of the other man’s nostrils, before the situation got the best of him and he pounded into Legato hard enough to cause serious injury. Which would be more than that cause by the fact he had taken Legato dry. Legato did not scream, did not doing anything. He just laid there on blood stained sheets, a perfect little corpse.
“This is not for your pleasure… Bluesummers.”
He could feel the bitterness of the human’s, caused simply by pointing out, that despite his best efforts, he would be nothing. Knives simply smiled and withdrew, wiping himself clean. He knew that if there was one thing that could cause pain to Legato, it was calling him by his last name.
Sighing he walked to the door. The room reeked of sex and blood. He would stay were it not for the smell of human. “Clean it up!” he snapped, “And I expect you to use your tongue to do so.”
“Master,” Legato managed to stand, blood trickling from his nose and down his legs, “I will do so. But please…”
“You’re only a human.”
A tear ran from Legato’s eye. “Master… I…”
“That is the pain of life… deal with it.”
***
The door slid closed and Legato found himself laughing. Master had touched him.
Only to beat him…
But Master had touched him.
He was callous.
But Master had made love to him.
He had thrown him over the bed and screwed him dry.
“He touched me,” Legato whispered in wonder, reaching around to brush himself. Five fingers came back tipped in blood. Legato’s smile grew greater. “I thank you for this gift.”
Master wasn’t there to hear Legato’s words of thanks. Closing his eyes, he could sense Master had once again returned to his regeneration chamber to rest. Master deserved such rest after such a session.
Legato blinked in the surprise as a phantom mouth caressed him. In surprise, he leaned back and allowed to happen. Only a few minutes into it and he realized that Knives hadn’t decided to pay him a surprise visit in phantom form. This came from the man who owned the limb.
What was Master’s brother doing right now? Frowning, Legato concentrated, biting his lip until it bled until he could see the room that the Stampede was in. He could feel the rough plastic of a chair on his buttocks, denim on his legs, and coat on his back.
He would enjoy this.
Vash looked down for the briefest second. He could see black hair, tan skin, flash of an oversized nose as… as…
Legato broke away from the vision, feeling utterly and impossibly sick. He wobbled over to bathroom and for the first time he retched. He was in disbelief at his own situation and the situation that his Master’s twin was experiencing.
“How?” he groaned, “How could such a perfect being have sex with a human? Why, Master would never do that… it’s perfectly beastly.”
The End