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Vash leaned on the car, the night air fogging in front of his face with each exhale. White clouds drifted up and vanished before he drew another breath. It wasn’t actually cold enough for the average human’s breath to fog up like this - Vash didn’t think it ever got cold enough for that - but he ran hot. Like, really hot.
Other plants didn’t - not even Nai, if Vash remembered correctly - because they were constantly using the energy they built up. Well, Vash built it up. He didn’t know if Nai ate. Vash ate to blend in and keep stronger, but he didn’t actually need to. The energy was nice, though, even if it made his baseline temperature so much higher.
Usually Vash took care to hide the fog, but everyone else should be asleep on the other side of the car. Leaving him mostly alone to trace forgotten constellations with too-bright eyes.
Vash had his amber glasses held loosely in his flesh hand, legs crossed over one another at the knee. Wind rustled his air and trailed icy kisses over exposed skin, hot to everyone but him. He let his eyes slip shut to the crackle of the fire and wind on his skin, relaxed. A long exhale had a large cloud drift up from his mouth.
A hand not his own landed on Vash’s right shoulder, sending his nerves alight and heart racing in his chest. Vash reacted instinctively. He twisted around while grabbing the offending wrist to wrench it behind the attacker’s back and sweep their legs out from under them in the same movement. Vash pinned them to the sand with his full weight.
Vash knew that his joints probably bent beyond human limits to pull the move, but as his head popped up to scan the horizon for any more enemies, Vash couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Stupid stupid stupid , Vash’s mind chanted on repeat as too-sharp eyes failed to spot anyone else. How do I protect them if I can’t even spot one guy? Idiot, stupid, dolt, too distracted too stupid too-
“Needle-Noggin!” The familiar shout rocked through him, forcefully pulling Vash back into his body. Puffs of white drifted past his eyes with each sharp exhale, betraying how fast his breathing truly was. “Hey, Needle-Noggin, down here,” The - enemy? Said in Wolfwood’s voice. Vash turned his gaze downwards to the body pinned under his.
It was Wolfwood’s arm twisted at a painful angle against his own back, held in place by Vash’s prosthetic hand. His head was turned to meet Vash’s gaze steadily, even as Vash’s limbs forced his own to the sand, leaving them back-to-chest, practically plastered together.
Vash scrambled back like he’d been burnt. Tripped over his own feet. Banged his head against the car. Hard. Had the air forced from his lungs in a giant cloud. Wheezed a little.
Apologies spilled from his lips between gasps for air. There was a throbbing in his skull now, as Vash tracked Wolfwood’s movement. The other stood slowly, massaging his shoulder slightly.
Wolfwood took a few steps closer before squatting next to Vash, hands hovering as he tried to get his breathing under control. Every time Wolfwood moved as if to touch Vash in any way, Vash would flinch or jerk violently in the opposite direction.
It took Vash ten minutes or so in his own perception to calm his breathing down to normal levels (which sat slightly lower than a normal human’s). Feeling calmer again, Vash glanced around to find his amber glasses that he dropped when pinning the attacker Wolfwood. Vash startled when they were held in front of his face, slowly taking them before looking at the arm that handed them over.
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow from where he was sat next to Vash, arm lowering. “Are you good now?” he asked quietly.
Vash blinked at the undertaker before slipping on his glasses, tilting his head in the way that he knew made the light reflect back and hide his eyes before simply looking back to the stars. “Mmm.” He hummed noncommittally in response. He still felt the ache in his head and somewhat off-kilter, but at least he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.
“Riiight…” Wolfwood was still studying Vash, who refused to glance over at risk of meeting his eyes. “So what’s with this?” Wolfwood gave a vague gesture towards Vash.
Vash sent a quizzical look towards Wolfwood, eyes actually landing somewhere over his shoulder. “With what?” He asked. Oh, his voice was scratchier than he thought it’d be. He cleared his throat. Coughed lightly into a fist. Cleared it again. “That gesture was unspecific.” His voice was only slightly less rough. He swallowed to ease the itch and attempted to ignore the way Wolfwood’s eyes tracked the movement of his neck with the action.
“Stampede,” Wolfwood started slowly, “You’ve just had a panic attack because I put my hand on your shoulder. And-” Dark eyes tracked the next puff of white from Vash. “-Your breath’s steaming.”
The thought to ignore the second part of the statement and gaslight the fuck out of Wolfwood flitted through Vash’s mind. “It’s cooling down, actually,” He said instead, like a fool .
Wolfwood exhaled sharply. “ What does that even mean ,” Vash heard him mutter lowly, probably not meant for him to hear. “No, answer the touch question instead.”
Vash would rather melt into a puddle and die, actually, but it was better than answering the ‘hey why do you run so hot that your breath condenses’ question instead. “It’s usually not friendly.”
At Wolfwood’s blank expression, Vash rushed to elaborate. “Well, usually its just getting shoved or smashed or shoving or saving others.” He tried for a small smile and could tell it wasn’t a good one. "Other than knocking knees on accident and little things like that."
A look of horror settled on Wolfwood’s face. “When was the last time you touched another human outside of a fight?”
“Good question,” Vash murmured to himself. He racked his brain to try and think of the answer. “Uh, Fifteen minutes ago?” He tried instead. “Unless you forgot?”
Wolfwood moved to put his hands on Vash’s shoulders and froze when Vash flinched almost imperceptibly. “S- Ty- Ne- Vash ,” Wolfwood’s voice was quiet but intense, “That was almost an hour ago and not only triggered your fight response, it also gave you a giant panic attack.”
“Eh. Maybe?” Vash replied weakly, still sifting through memories. “Before that though, it was around six years ago, If i’m remembering correctly. Four before that, seven before that, three before seven…”
Wolfwood made a sound similar to a deflating balloon. “You’re telling me. That you go for multiple years at a time between friendly contact?!” He lurched forwards, almost hitting Vash in the face with an accusing finger. “That’s it, I’m giving you a hug-”
“No! Thank! You!” Vash said quickly, almost stumbling over the words and scooting backwards. “I am fine . Great, even. Amazing!” Each word was punctuated with the cloud of condensing water vapor from his internal temperature.
Wolfwood leaned back, eyes squinting slightly. His teeth worked at the butt of a used cigarette. “Then you’d prefer to tell me why your breath is steaming?”
“On second thought how about that hug huh-”