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The first time Wolfwood officiated a wedding, it was a small affair.
The couple had dried blood still flacking off their skin, white dress disregarded for bullet-hole ridden capes in their hurry of desperation. After the bandits had run off, the pair had jumped on him, staring up at Wolfwood with pleading eyes and barely a dollar to their names.
“Excuse good sir, but I heard from the bartender that you were a priest,” the girl ,a shy ginger, wrapped her arms around her partner’s bicep, swaying as she stared down at the floor, “Could you marry us right now real quick? It don’t got to be anything fancy, just gotta do your part as a priest and we’ll deal with the rest.”
“We don’t have much, but if you could do us this one favor, we’d appreciate it alot,” the pair stared up at him with puppy-dog eyes, as he nodded and pulled out his Bible.
“Oh, Mr. Priest! Thank you so much!,” the girl stood in front of the priest, staring face to face with her soon-to-be husband. The groom smiled at her with a boy-ish smile, trembling from adrenaline and excitement.
A small crowd formed as Wolfwood read the verses, thin cheap paper crinkling beneath his fingertips. The pair spoke their vows, love in every word as they talked about weals and woes, tears in the boy's eyes.
“And with the power vested in me by the Lord, I now proclaim you husband and wife,” the couple’s hands shook from how they gripped each others hands, smiles as big as the sun, “You may now kiss the bride.”
Despite their respective injuries, the couple nearly knocked him over from the force of how they crashed together, gripping tight onto each other as if tomorrow might not come. The small crowd rejoiced at the impromptu ceremony, surrounding the bride and groom with congratulations.
He snapped his Bible closed, taking his leave as the supposed mother of the bride slipped a stack of bills into his hand, enveloping his hands in her own worn down ones.
“Thank you,” the older lady’s eyes were wet with emotion, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, as he stared sheepishly off to the setting sun,“Good luck to the happy couple.”
From then on out, he’d officiated a good number of weddings, and many more funerals. His cheap Bible’s print had been worn down over time, small letters nearly indecipherable as his increasingly rougher hands tainted the pages, small specks of dried blood covering the pages.
As he continued traveling, he learnt the letters by memory, not even needing to stare down at them while reciting the prose. When his companions joined him in his audience, he couldn’t help but ask himself stupid questions.
Would Vash want a ceremony like this? Cheerful and with a fear of not living to see tomorrow? Or would he much rather a silent wedding with those they care about and the stars as their witness?
He hadn’t really been able to officiate any weddings since he’d woken up on that hospital bed, Vash’s tears sipping through the thin hospital gown as the now dark-haired man gripped Wolfwood’s back, trembling as sobs racked his body.
The thought had been shoved to the backburner, however, since Vash had shown up with a shiny gold ring on his finger, glinting under the morning light.
“I don’t remember ever seeing that one before,” Wolfwood brought the cup of coffee to his lips, sipping softly on the steaming drink. The four of them had taken a quick trip to the bigger cities, picking up food and supplies for the orphanage
Vash glanced down at the ring with a soft look as Wolfwood raised a brow, shoving his delicate, albeit calloused from years of everything, pianist hands in front of Wolfwood’s face,”It’s my wedding ring, my husband gave it to me.”
He couldn’t restrain his shock, wasting the poor coffee spewing it out in shock all over the hotel table, as Vash reeled his hand back to prevent it from being burnt by the scalding liquid.
“Your WHO?”, the used-to-be blond glared lightly at Wolfwood as he shook his hand, his hand with the ring, his hand with the marriage ring, that meant Vash was marri-
“I got married yesterday,” Vash said in such a calm manner, as if talking about the weather, the food, the news, not as if he just told Wolfwood he went from fully available to taken in a night.
“Married?! To who?! How?! When?! What the hell, Spikey?!,” the clergyman stood up, smacking his hands against the table in his hysterics, as Vash stared at him with a deadpan,“You married us, Wolfwood, you should know this.”
Wolfwood sat back down, head between his hands as he took a deep sigh. He was a calm and collected gentleman. This was completely regular news.
“Oh, are you guys talking about the wedding?,” Milly, bless her heart, poked her head through the door, “It was so beautiful, Mr. Vash. I hadn’t seen Meryl cry like that in so long!”
Meryl strolled into the room, slapping her head down onto the table, “Quiet down. My head still hurts.”
Milly took a seat next to her girlfriend, carding her fingers through Meryl’s hair, “It was such a wonderful ceremony, wasn’t it, Meryl? Mr. Vash looked so nice in that napkin veil.”
‘Vash wouldn’t be using a napkin veil if he was marrying me’, Wolfwood muttered against his palm, “And who was the other husband in this situation?”
Vash’s eyes widened for a moment, softening his gaze as he looked straight at Wolfwood. The air in the room thickened as the other three stared at each other, “You don’t remember, Mr.Wolfwood?”
He shook his head, fishing out a cigarette from his sleep pants. He'd been trying to quit, really, but a situation like this warranted it. Vash had a small grin on his face, looking seconds away from bursting into giggles. It was a good look on him.
“He’s a real sweet guy, he really loves you, Mr.Vash,” Milly grabbed Vash’s hand, gazing down at the shiny golden band.
“It sure was a surprise, I’m not sure I even deserve it,” oh- so the asshole gets Vash when he’s drunk and marries him, but leaves him with doubt?!
“Where the hell is that guy anyway, shouldn’t you two be on your honeymoon or something,” Wolfwood gritted out through the cigarette in his mouth. Meryl lifted her head from the table, staring at Vash with a cat-like grin, “Right, Vash, shouldn’t you two be on your honeymoon? What do you think, Milly?”
Milly stared at her partner with a tilted head for a few moments before her eyes lit up, “Oh, right, yeah,- Meryl, uhm, we had a special for our program.”
“Wow, Milly, that sure sucks that we have to leave so suddenly,” the pair stood from the table, hand in hand, “Guess we better pack now, to leave immediately. You guys should go on ahead, we’ll meet you guys in the orphanage.”
“Yes, that we will, guess that means you two have to travel alone until you reach the town, because we will be working, incredibly busy,” Vash grumbled something into his arm, as Meryl waved him goodbye, never breaking eye contact with a bashful Vash.
The two pairs both packed up, waving Milly and Meryl goodbye as they got on the bus.
“Where is your husband, anyway? Shouldn’t you two be enjoying your newly wedded bliss,” Vash only smiled, a genuine one that fit his face like a puzzle piece, shaking his head, “It’s complicated.”
“I can’t with you young whippersnappers, getting married like that,” Vash burst out in giggles at Wolfwood’s grouchy old man impression, all that weighed down on him leaving his back for a few seconds as he stared up at Wolfwood between giggles.
Vash plopped himself down on Angelina II sidecar, long limbs squeezed awkwardly into the small space. Vash had been gaining weight from finally receiving full meals from Melanie, his sharp face had a softer edge to it. He looked beautiful, in Wolfwood’s car, full and happy, with a grin on his face.
And some drunk guy’s ring on his finger.
The travel was relatively peaceful, if not for the fact that there was a shiny ring on Vash’s finger, a claim from some drunk bozo that hadn’t even bothered in following up with the marriage. Didn’t the deadbeat care where his husband was?!
Any questions about his elusive husband were dodged, with either a vague answer or just downright ignored. Despite all of this, the idiot stared down at the ring with a smile on his face, dopey and in love with a random drunk stranger.
The town wasn’t too far from the orphanage, barely a 20 minute drive. Despite barely being gone for a day, the children rushed to them as they arrived with their supplies, jumping Vash like a tree. The children had taken to Vash like fish to water, climbing the abnormally tall man like a tree whenever they saw him.
Children dangled from Vash’s neck, hanging from his arms like a swing. Livio grabbed the bags from Vash’s hands, giving him a nice pat on the back.
“Now, let Mr. Vash breathe a little,” Ms. Melanie stood before them, enveloping Wolfwood and Vash in her arms. The two men had to bend down and squish together to fit in the sweet older woman’s arms, tucking their faces into the crook of her neck.
The dark-haired woman, ever perceptive, noticed the golden band on Vash’s finger, staring up at Vash with an inquisitive look in her eye.
“I got married,” Vash told her, a huge smile on his face, eyes and cheeks crinkling. Ms. Melanie eye’s widened, grabbing Vash’s hand in hers as she glanced at Wolfwood.
He whispered something in her ear, and the look in her eye grew slightly judgemental. So he isn’t alone in disliking Vash’s husband it seems.
“That’s interesting,” she whispered, as she and Vash stared at each other for a few seconds, before they broke eye contact and continued on.
The kids noticed the ring too, surrounding Vash.
“Mr. Vash, what’s this ring on your finger-”“What happened while you were away-”“Mr.Vash!”
Miss Melanie grabbed his hand as Vash opened his mouth, the children staring up at him even as he bent down. He could make out a few exclamations as the children jumped up and down.
“What do you make of Vash’s ‘husband’,” the older woman stared back at him with such palpable judgment when he opened his mouth, glancing away under the weight of her eyes. Miss Melanie let out a sigh, resting her face on her palm.
“Nico, whatever shall I do with you.”
“Whu- What does that have to do with me?,” if possible, she looked even more disappointed and amused, smiling into her hands, “Ah, young love.”
The children swarmed back into the orphanage, jumping on him, crawling on his back and hanging from his neck. A few of the older kids, after assaulting him with their affection, stared at him with the same judgemental amusement.
It’s not his fault Vash got married to some rando, dammit!
Talking about Vash, he was staring at him from the doorway, same dopey smile on his face. It was difficult getting him to stay at the orphanage, prone to escaping in the middle of the night when the shadows from the moon told him to run far, that he would save them by escaping off to the furthest end of the planet, not wanting to disturb their peace.
Even when he convinced Vash to stay, the fool insisted on making himself useful. Cleaning here and there, doing laundry, tending to the kids.
That last one gave him horrendous baby fever.
It was domestic, Vash either sleeping in the room next to his or slipping into his room at night to see Wolfwood in the flesh, gripping onto Wolfwood’s bicep to ensure that he wouldn’t just fade away into dust and dirt, tears dripping down onto the thin sheets.
So he really doesn’t understand where the husband came from. The useless husband that doesn’t even visit. The husband that doesn’t wipe Vash’s tears at night. The husband that all he served to do was leave a ring and a wedding that Wolfwood doesn’t even remember.
If he’s being selfish, he’s more of a husband then that asshole is. Livio teases him about it endlessly, and how the mighty have fallen that crybaby Livio gets to tease him about the state of love life.
It would all feel like a pesky memory, an unrealistic nightmare, if it wasn’t for the stupid gold band that sits on Vash’s finger all day. He only takes it off to cook, and even then, he watches the damn thing like a hawk, as if he blinks too long it’ll fade into dust like his husband.
Just like now, Vash is stirring the pot, the cursed item probably sitting in the bathroom upstairs. He doesn’t seem to notice Wolfwood creeping up behind him, if the way he hums unbothered is anything to say about it.
He stands directly behind Vash, laying his head on the crook of Vash’s neck, whispering into his ear,“Boo.”
Maybe sneaking up on an unassuming Vash isn’t exactly the best thing for his health, if the wooden spoon he gets to the face is any indication, but the look on his face makes the red nearly sizzling spoon mark worth it.
Vash’s face is painted completely red, from embarrassment or from rage, and feathers adorn his puffed cheeks.
His feathers had been making more appearances lately, everytime he sprouted a few in shock the children would surround him. Gaping up at him, oo-ing and ah-ing at what they called ‘pretty angel wings’. Vash would still shy away from the kids when they burst out, too scared to hurt a hair on their heads, but he was slowly becoming more comfortable.
All in all, he looks like a disgruntled cat, with a cute pout on his face. He wants to kiss it away.
“Damn you, Wolfwood!,” Vash waves the spoon around, a habit he picked up from Wolfwood and Melanie, before sticking it back to stir the pot, “Meanie.”
Wolfwood rests his face on Vash’s neck, breathing in his neck. Vash continues stirring tilting his head lightly to lay on Wolfwood. This isn’t what friends do, nor what a married man should do with his friend.
Vash keeps humming as Wolfwood’s hands snake around his waist, content just laying on Vash in domestic bliss. It’s been two weeks of them dancing around each other, that ring taunting him.
There’s a rumble from Vash’s chest that almost shakes the entire room, a reminder of the being he has in his arms. Even the stew tremble under the waves of Vash’s purr, a grounding sensation that seeps into Wolfwood from where his chest meets Vash’s back.
“You’re warmer than usual.”
There’s a light sheen of sweat on Vash’s forehead, feathers that would’ve disappeared by now still present on his cheeks, some even popping out on his neck.
“My heat is due soon,” he mutters as he stirs mindlessly, as Wolfwood rubs circles onto his belly, barely audible giggles escaping from Vash’s mouth, “Stop that!”
Vash slaps his hands away with his empty hand, as Wolfwood’s hands find themselves higher on Vash’s body, the giggles increasing as Vash tries to swat away Wolfwood’s hands.
Miss Melanie sneaks up on the pair silently, delivering a yank on both of their ears, with a smile, “Is he bothering you, Vash, dear?”
“Yes, Miss Melanie, he’s being awfully cruel to me,” he dramatically sobs, a hand against his forehead. She tsks at him with no heat, grabbing Wolfwood’s hand to step aside, “He’s so mean to you, not letting you cook in peace.”
“Stop bothering the poor boy, Nico,” Miss Melanie clasps his hand as he lets himself be dragged away.
Vash’s heat sneaks up on him quicker then usual, swarming the orphanage, a man on a mission, borrowing all sorts of clothing. The girls rushed to the orphanage as soon as they transmitted the news, depositing laundry piles of clothing for Vash’s picking.
Despite all of this, the entire orphanage flocking to offer up Vash their clothing, to offer whatever they could to make his heat easier, the kids knitting him little toys that threatened tears slipping down his cheeks as he accepted the heartfelt gifts, Vash’s elusive ‘husband’ was nowhere to be found.
He didn’t even want to ask Vash if he wanted to contact the moron, the deadbeat that was off all over the planet doing Lord knows what with Lord knows who while his husband was scrunched over in pain in pre-heat.
However, the look on Vash’s face every time his eyes landed on the ring, the protectiveness over the gold band, snapping his teeth when Wolfwood moved it to clean a stain on the bathroom, made him grit his own and settle that, if Vash wanted the deadbeat here, Wolfwood would fetch the useless man.
“Vash,” the black-haired man stared up with a tilt to his head from the pile of clothes that he had arranged ornately on Wolfwood’s bed, invading his room whenever his heat rolled around.
Wolfwood sighed, staring at Vash with a hard look on his face, anything for Vash’s comfort, “Do you want your husband here for your heat?”
The confusion on Vash’s face broke into amusement, leading onto full hearted cackles, head tossed back as his laughter resonated through the room. God, he can feel his gray hairs growing in.
He opened his mouth, but Vash put a finger to his lips, gathering Wolfwood’s face in his hands as his laughter died out, staring at Wolfwood with a stupid grin, “Wolfwood, Wolfwood, are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious, he’s your husband, I’ll gladly divorce you two if there’s been an update since then,” somehow that made Vash laughter fit return in even stronger, cackling as he wrapped his feet around Wolfwood’s waist where they poked out off his nest.
Laughter and relaxation was a beautiful emotion on Vash’s face, cheeks tinted pink as small feathers lay on his cheeks, eyes scrunched as he cackled without a care in the world. Vash looked back at him with laughter induced tears, swiping Wolfwood’s cheek with his thumb.
“But, Wolfwood, I have him right here.”
What.
Vash’s lips landed on his forehead as he hoisted Wolfwood onto the bed with his deceivingly strong legs, glancing at Wolfwood beneath his lashes with a beautiful smile, crinkled cheeks as he spoke in a shushed tone, “You got so drunk you don’t even remember your own wedding, huh.”
“So, all this time, the deadbeat has been-.”
“I think you’ve been a pretty good husband till now, even if you didn’t know it,” everything clicked into place, all the amused stares, the giggles that escaped Vash’s mouth when he badmouthed his ‘piece of shit’ husband.
He hung his head in shame, “Oh, God, I married you drunk and with a paper veil.”
“That you did,” the giggles seemed to make their way back as Wolfwood thumped his head against Vash’s chest, “Miss Melanie must be disappointed in me for marrying you like that.”
“Come on, I thought it was sweet,” Vash’s hand patted his back, “If it’s any consolation, you were the groom and the priest, and we didn’t sign any paperwork, so if you want our marriage on paper, ‘fraid you’ll have to marry me again.”
“You’ll have a decent veil, and Livio will be there, and the kids, and we won’t be drunk,” Vash carded his fingers through Wolfwood’s curly hair, as he stared at Wolfwood’s starry blue eyes with lidded eyes,“I’ll marry you a hundred times after your heat, if you want, and I’ll do it all the happiest man in the world.”
“I thought the romantic in you only came out while drunk,” the light blush on Vash’s face was brighter now, more feathers adorning his face and neck, “Now, I have to ask, can I call my beloved husband by his name.”
“You can call me whatever you’d like, Spikey,” his failed attempt at being sauve brought a soft smile to Vash’s face.
“Nico.”
“You sound so nice saying it,”
Wolfwood set his knees down on the bed, Vash propped up on the pillows as Wolfwood sat between his knees.
“Nico.”
“That’s my name, Needles,” he grabbed the hand with the ring, the ring that meant he was married, married to him.
“Nico, Nico, Nico,” Nicholas brought the ring to his mouth, kissing it softly, as the blush on Vash’s increased tenfold,“You’re such a loser.”
“You have such nice bedside talk,” he answered Vash with a deadpan look staring up at the smile that seemed to be glued onto Vash’s face, a beautiful look on his angel’s face.
“Yeah, yeah,” Vash’s legs tightened around his waist, bringing Wolfwood closer to him, “We didn’t have a wedding night, I’ll have you know. You fell asleep while I took your pants off.”
“Such a terrible husband,” he drew closer to Vash’s face, admiring his shimmering off puttingly blue eyes, “I have to make it up to you, don’t I?”
“Meryl, you’re crying more than the kids,” Milly fussed around her partner, wiping down Meryl’s cheeks as tears cascaded down her face, “Dammit, Milly, I know that I just-”
If it was possible, more tears slipped down Meryl’s cheeks as Miss Melanie grabbed Wolfwood’s hand to walk him down the aisle. He was dressed in a white suit, borrowed from a local town.
The wedding wasn’t a big event, only those closest to them in the patio of the orphanage. Because of Vash’s status, they couldn’t risk a real pastor, and Wolfwood wasn’t going to pastor his own wedding, again.
They made their way down the aisle, reaching Vash, not dressed in a paper veil, but rather a knitted one from the kids.
Brad, the substitute pastor, flipped the Bible open, clearing his throat, “Hello, uhm, ladies and gentlemen.”
“Today we are joined in the union of Vash Valentinez Alkalinela Xi-, you know who, and Nicholas D. Wolfwood to celebrate their union, for some of you, again,” the blond scrutinized the dusty old Bible, sighing and slamming it close.
“As you may know, I am not a pastor, and Vash cannot be involved in any legal process without risking a shoutout, regardless, their love, even if unusual, is pure and honest.”
Marie walked forward through the aisle, stumbling slightly as she presented to the pair, slipping the rings onto each other's fingers.
“Until death do us part isn’t even true for this pair, so Nicholas, do you take Vash to be your legally wedded husband?,” he nodded with tears in his eyes, slipping his hands to entwine his and Vash’s fingers.
Vash, do you take Nicholas to be your legally wedded husband,” he nodded, crystal tears slipping down his cheeks as Livio and Meryl sobbed behind them.
“Well, with the power vested in me, you may now kiss the groom,” the pair grabbed onto each other, feathers splitting down Vash’s face as he grabbed onto the back of Wolfwood’s head, carding his fingers through Wolfwood’s patted down hair.
Gazing lovingly into his husband's eyes, hands on his neck and touching foreheads, Vash muttered underneath his breath, words for only him and Nicholas, “Rem would’ve loved you.”
Meryl sipped her cheap beer, dried tears on her cheeks as she laid on her girlfriend’s chest, still wet from where Meryl cried on her.
The blond looked down at her girlfriend, smiling down at her, “I never thought Mr. Vash would have a shotgun wedding, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”