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Locking the door, Nicholas D. Wolfwood kicked off his shoes and looked around the small, dingy motel room. Nothing obvious, at least. He set the Punisher against the wall, then checked under the bed. No one hiding there. Next was behind the radio stand and in the alcove someone might generously call a closet. No one there, either.
He was pulling back the shower curtain — bathtub empty, too — when he heard the bedroom door unlock.
He reached for the handgun tucked in the holster under his armpit and waited, breathing lightly, heart beating rapidly. This was a new tactic, waiting to trap him in the motel room before coming after him. He crept toward the bathroom door, near silent with his bare feet, listening to the other person pause. They must have seen his shoes or the weapon leaning against the wall. The silence went on; what were they waiting for? Finally, they said, "Come on out and make this easy, why don'tcha?"
Nick froze at the sound of the voice. Once he had found some recording equipment at the Eye and played with it, taping messages to Livio and Miss Melanie before being found out and punished for wasting resources. At first it had been shocking just how different his voice sounded to him over the tinny, crackly tape player. He got the same feeling hearing this voice; that
same but different
feeling that resonated in his chest. Who the hell was standing in his motel room?
"Made yourself at home, huh?" The voice was coming closer, footsteps on the cold floor — they hadn't bothered with taking off their shoes. Wolfwood wasn't sure what to do. That voice was so familiar, was his somehow — had they recorded him at some point? Who? Why?
The other person turned the corner, easing the bathroom door open. "Just tell me why —" They stopped talking as they locked eyes with Nick. They both were pointing guns at each other, but that wasn't the problem.
The problem was, Nick was staring at himself.
"The fuck?" the other man said. His suit was a little more worn in the knees and elbows, and his shirt was white instead of gray, but his hair and outfit were otherwise the same. He seemed slightly taller, but that was probably because of the shoes. Most notably, he was carrying a Punisher over his back with his right hand. He gave Nick a once-over himself, then re-aimed his gun with his left hand at Nick's heart. "What kinda sick joke is this?"
Nick tightened his aim as well — if one of them was going down, they both were. "The fuck are you talkin' about?" he asked the almost identical man, and witnessed that little jolt of shock-recognition in the other man's face.
"Did they clone me without tellin' me?" the other man asked. "C'mon, out with it."
"I'm not — the fuck are you talkin' about?" Nick questioned in turn.
"I know the Eye can pull some bullshit, but this is a new one," the other man said, frowning. "Thought the only person who could take me out is me, huh?"
"You're the one comin' after me!" Nick insisted, finger twitching on the trigger. "I'm not after you, whoever the fuck you are! How do I know the Eye didn't send a clone after me?"
"Why are you in my room?" the other man asked.
"Why are you in my room?" Nick insisted. The two glared at each other, seemingly at an impasse.
They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither willng to give ground. But looking into the other's face, Nick recognized so much of what he saw in those eyes — the set of that jaw — he finally lowered his gun.
The other man re-aimed at Nick's head. "What're you tryin' to pull?"
"You won't shoot," Nick told him. "You can't shoot yourself. Much as you might want to."
The other man's frown deepened. "Who says I can't?" But his finger slipped off the trigger and his arm lowered.
Nick slid his gun back into his shoulder holster and asked, "Can we get out of the fuckin' bathroom?"
"You get out, I need to take a piss." The other man — the other Wolfwood, the other Nick, the fuck was Nick going to call him — turned and set his Punisher within the closet alcove and squeezed past Nick through the doorway. He pushed Nick out of the door and shut it on him. Nick, not knowing what else to do, scrambled to the tiny desk in the corner of the room and sat backwards on its chair, leaning his forearms against the top of the chair.
The other man — Wolfwood, Nick decided he'd call him — rubbed his hands on his pants as he came out of the bathroom. "So what the fuck is going on?" Nick asked as Wolfwood walked to the door. He twisted the door handle. Then turned it again. He yanked on the door; it didn't budge.
"What the fuck?" Wolfwood muttered. Nick got up and came over to look at the door handle. There wasn't a keyhole on this side, just a lock and a doorknob. He tried the lock; the little latch wouldn't move. He butted Wolfwood out of the way and tried the door himself. It seemed frozen in place, somehow; he didn't even hear the lock or the knob rattle and click as he attempted to open it.
"Okay, what did you do?" Nick asked, glaring at Wolfwood.
"What did I do?" Wolfwood asked, offended.
"You were the last one who opened it, so either you did somethin', or someone locked us inside somehow," Nick reasoned. "Maybe they wanted it to be a bloodbath and they'd come clean up the remains."
"Who's even after you, that you're this paranoid?" Wolfwood asked, frustrated.
"The Eye." Wolfwood stared at him. "They let me out of their contract, but it was bullshit. They've been after me ever since."
"They let you out of a contract?" Wolfwood asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "What kinda contract?"
"Does it matter?" Nick asked. "All I know is, they said I was free, then started sendin' people to kill me."
"That's rough," Wolfwood sighed.
"What, as if you have it any better?" Nick asked.
"Well, I kinda killed and impersonated my mentor," Wolfwood admitted, "only that's comin' back to bite in some unexpected ways."
"Unexpected, my ass!" Nick said, glaring again. "You fuckin' killed Chapel?"
"You ever get the chance, you should too," Wolfwood said. "You know that."
Nick growled and tried the door again. Still no movement. "What the fuck is wrong with this place?" He moved to the tiny window in the adjoining wall and tried flicking the latch, pushing the thing open. It wouldn't move either. "Seriously, what the hell ?"
Wolfwood backed away from the door and sat on the bed, kicking off his shoes. "Y'know what? Take it as a blessin'. You know that no one can get in or out of this place, you know that it's safe. Relax for a while, breathe."
"How can you —"
"There's nothin' we can do," Wolfwood said, taking out a cigarette. "Roll with the punches."
Giving the window one more try, just in case, Nick made his way back to the chair and sat down again. "I didn't even get to have a drink after dinner," he whined, feeling the need to get his frustrations out.
Wolfwood laughed as he waved his cig at Nick. "You need a drink? You don't have anythin' on you?"
Nick shook his head. "And you do?"
Putting the cigarette back in his pocket and retreating to the closet alcove, Wolfwood pulled the cloth off of his Punisher. From what little Wolfwood could see of it, it looked different from his — smooth silver casing. He wondered what had happened to make the two of them come out so differently, why they seemed so similar but clearly were separate.
From a compartment in his Punisher, Wolfwood pulled a bottle of whiskey. He waved it at Nick, his eyebrows waggling. Nick just said, "Bring it here," annoyed.
"Thought you woulda been happier to see some booze," Wolfwood noted as he walked over to the bed. He sat down on it again and gestured Nick over. "I don't have glasses. Hope you don't mind drinkin' after someone else." Without waiting for Nick's reply, he popped the bottle open and took a swig from it. He sighed and wiped the mouth of the bottle with his sleeve. "Decent shit."
"I'd hope so, if you're gonna carry it around like that," Nick muttered, before getting up and joining Wolfwood on the bed. Their knees brushed as Nick took the offered bottle and drank. Oh, did the whiskey burn beautiful on his tongue and throat. Just right. "Thanks," he thought to say, wiping the bottle and handing it back.
Wolfwood swigged down another couple sips. "My pleasure. It's always better to share a drink." They passed the bottle back and forth in companionable silence for a bit before Wolfwood asked, "So what's your Vash like?"
Nick nearly spat out the swallow he'd just taken. "What?"
"Y'know, your Vash. I'm assumin' you've met yours."
"You're assumin' a lot of things, but yeah. I have." He fell silent, wondering how to address it, how to talk about it. Wolfwood drank long as he hesitated.
"Now I know you got plenty to say about him," Wolfwood said after his generous plug from the bottle. "I could go on and on about my Vash, how stupid he is sometimes. How frustratin'. How selfless." Nick blinked at that last one. "I could go on for days. C'mon, out with it."
"Why do you care so much?" Nick asked, taking the bottle from him.
"'Cause I gotta have hope," Wolfwood answered simply. "And he gives me hope."
The whiskey soured in Nick's stomach. He didn't know. How could he tell him? They were quiet for a few moments before Wolfwood asked, "What's wrong?"
"Yeah, I know Vash," Nick finally made himself say. He forced himself to speak in the present tense. "I know how he can give you that feelin', like there's somethin' out there worth holdin' onto." He fell silent, bowing his head, breathing hard.
"There's somethin' you're not tellin' me," Wolfwood said, taking the bottle, not drinking from it. When Nick realized he wasn't drinking, he reached — Wolfwood held the bottle away from him. They nearly fell off the bed playing keep-away. Nick only stopped when Wolfwood got a little too close to dropping it — so he thought. Wolfwood dropped it anyway, catching it before it could crash into the floor. "Showoff," Nick muttered.
"You could do it too," Wolfwood said, tossing the bottle from hand to hand. "Now tell me what's up."
"Vash…" Nick began, and didn't know how to end. "He — he might be dead," he finally choked out, throat constricting around the words, almost not letting them out.
Wolfwood looked at him sympathetically. "Okay, now I see where you're comin' from. Jeneora?"
"Julai," Nick said, confused. Meryl had mentioned a Jeneora Rock a couple times along their journey together, but he hadn't been to the place yet.
Wolfwood, in turn, looked baffled. "But July was blown to fuck years before —" They stared at each other, trying to fit together puzzle pieces that wouldn't interlock. "Okay, that doesn't matter," Wolfwood finally decided. "What matters is that you don't stop lookin' for your Vash."
"Why do you care?" Nick asked.
"Because he's out there. Doesn't matter how hopeless it feels. I found mine." Wolfwood sighed. "I don't wanna say too much about it because I don't wanna mess up your timeline or some sci-fi bullshit, but — don't stop."
"Easy enough for you to say," Nick muttered. He wasn't the one a year into the search.
"Trust me, you find him, and all that time you spent will seem like nothin'," Wolfwood said. "How's your Meryl? And Milly, how's big girl?"
"Who? Meryl's out searchin' on her own, but — who's Milly?"
They spent the next who-knew-how-long discussing the people they knew and the paths they'd crossed in common, a little drunk from the whiskey, a little silly from the situation. Nick saw a look flash across Wolfwood's eyes a few times that he recognized — and that scared him. It was a sense of want, a confidence he didn't have. He was cocky, sure, but he didn't have the poise of this other version of himself. He wondered where it came from, whether he was faking it, how he could seem that collected.
After some time, Wolfwood yawned. "Might as well get some shut-eye," he said, eyeing the moons out the window. Gentle moonlight was filtering in through the shabby panes. "Never know when you'll get security like this again."
"Yeah, yeah," Nick muttered. "Lemme pee." He shut the bathroom door behind him and, left with a few minutes to himself, considered what to do. Maybe while Wolfwood slept, he could bust down the door and — no. He'd wake the other man up before he got the door open. And using the laser on the door would cause way too much collateral damage.
By the time he had finished pissing and cleaned himself up, he hadn't come up with any satisfactory answers. He left the bathroom to see Wolfwood curled up in bed, under the covers — and his clothes on the floor. "I left my boxers on," Wolfwood said when he hesitated too long.
"Thanks," Nick groaned. He turned off the light, made his way to the other side of the bed, and slid in, not bothering to take his clothes off.
"You can make yourself comfortable," Wolfwood told him.
"'m fine," Nick sighed, sinking into the bed. It was a hard mattress with thin pillows, he'd probably wake up to an aching back and a crick in his neck, but it was better than camping in the desert. "If someone attacks in the middle of the night, I'll be ready."
"Suit yourself," Wolfwood said, pulling the blanket over himself, and Nick could feel the eyeroll behind it. He just turned on his side, away from Wolfwood, tucking his feet under the corner of the sheets that Wolfwood wasn't using.
He had been trained to fall asleep in any number of uncomfortable situations, and yet somehow tonight he couldn't manage it. He didn't know if it was the lack of covering, the stiffness of his suit against his skin, the light breathing that turned into gentle snores beside him, or all of them at once. Or none of them. His thoughts drifted their way toward Vash — would Nick really ever find him? After a year and change of looking, he wanted to believe, wanted to have the deep conviction that the other Wolfwood seemed to have, but day by day…
Rubbing his face, he tried to push the thoughts away, move onto another train — they ricocheted back to Vash. His voice was fading in Nick's memory; he clutched at the sound in his head with his whole body, imprinting it, determined not to lose it. Vash's face was precious to him; he screwed his eyes shut, remembering every angle of his stupid, frustrating, lovable head.
Wolfwood rolled over and slung an arm around Nick's waist. Nick stiffened, stifling his own breath, and only then realized that he had been sobbing. He tried to get his breathing under control. Wolfwood held him tighter, chest and stomach pressed to Nick's back. The warmth and pressure was strange, but oddly comforting.
Nick coughed a few times trying to get his breathing in order, but he just couldn't stop — thinking about Vash combined with the assurance of the man next to him were breaking him. He felt tears squeeze their way out of his eyes and buried his face in the pillow, wondering just how pathetic the other him thought he was.
Instead of letting go of him, Wolfwood pressed his face to the back of Wolfwood's neck. His hand found its way inside Wolfwood's jacket, pressing to his heart over his shirt. His other arm slipped under Nick and pulled him closer again to Wolfwood's body. Nick laid his hand over Wolfwood's as the tears continued to leak out.
Nick woke slowly, early morning sunlight streaming in through the window, feeling warm and weighted down. Through the haze of coming back to consciousness, he recalled the night before, wondered how he had fallen asleep like that. He felt a little crusty, thought maybe he should go to the bathroom and —
Lips. On his neck. He froze. It was just Wolfwood, he knew, but what was he doing ? Wolfwod paused. When Nick relaxed again, he continued kissing Nick.
"Wha-" Nick started to ask, voice still heavy with sleep and the whiskey from last night.
"Just relax," Wolfwood murmured before pulling down his collar and kissing where neck met shoulder.
Nick shivered, warmth sliding down his spine from Wolfwood's lips to his abdomen. His fingers curled over Wolfwood's on his chest. "You wanna —"
"Yeah," Wolfwood said, moving his hand from Nick's heart to the opening of his shirt. "Don't you?"
Nick thought about it. "I haven't… uh… done it before," he confessed. That was something he'd kept locked up tight; he suspected he might not even have admitted it to Vash, had they gotten around to fucking before… everything.
"Think of this as masturbation," Wolfwood said, and wow, how long had he been thinking about it to immediately come up with a line like that? "Let me help you get to know yourself." God, his hands felt nice, even through Nick's suit.
"What do you get out of it?" Nick asked, followed up with a little moan as Wolfwood kissed his neck again.
"Some relief. Virginity kink. Little payback for you wakin' me up last night." He kissed Nick again. "So are you in it or not?"
Nick tried to think, but Wolfwood was turning his thoughts hazy. "Sure," he finally said.
Wolfwood swatted his ass, gently, just strong enough to sting a little. "What kind of answer is that?"
"Yeah, yes, fuck," Nick whined.
"Good," Wolfwood said. Nick leaned back into him and realized he was feeling something hot and hard press against his ass. Was he packing — wait, did he —
Wolfwood was unbuttoning his shirt. Once fully undone, his hands slipped under the material, rubbing Nick from stomach to chest, getting to know him, making sparks dance down his skin and into his abdomen. Nick tensed a little as his hands drifted back down, toward his pants. What could he say? How could he bring up the fact that —
Fingers deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Nick held his breath as Wolfwood's hand slid inside his pants, his calloused palms and fingertips pressing over his abdomen.
They reached his lips.
They stopped.
"That wasn't what I was expectin'," Wolfwood said. He sounded a little puzzled, but not angry or freaked out.
"You've got a dick, don'tcha?" Nick accused, surprised at his own frustration. Why had this version of him gotten lucky?
"Yeah, so do you," Wolfwood retorted, parting his lips and rubbing it. Nick tried to reply but what came out was a surprised moan.
"You know what I mean!" Nick grunted. Trying to speak while someone messed with his parts was proving difficult.
"Just means we have some different options," Wolfwood said, shrugging. "Does it really bother you that much?"
"I mean, kinda," Nick muttered. "Why do you have — and I have —"
"No idea," Wolfwood replied. "How'd we end up here? What the fuck are we doin'? I have no goddamn idea." He was starting to sound annoyed. "Do you want me to show you a good time or not?"
"Y-yeah!" Wolfwood had punctuated his last question with another rub of Nick's dick, making him yelp out his answer. Nick's eyes rolled back in his head as Wolfwood's fingertips slid over his lips, around his hole, gathering slick as he did so, and returned to rubbing Nick. Nick gasped and groaned as the world tightened down to that one singular point — it only took a couple minutes to send him flying over the edge, lips fluttering and hole constricting around nothing, entire body tensing, then loosening, Wolfwood like an expert archer using him as a bow.
"That feel good?" Wolfwood asked, and Nick wanted to smack the smugness out of his voice. Was he like this to other people? Jeez.
"Yeah, yeah, you shit. You want me to suck you off now?"
"You could. I was just thinkin' maybe I could play around with you a little more. Ever been fingered?"
Fuck, he was blunt with it. "I've tried. It's okay?"
"Let's see if we can make you get it." Wolfwood began circling his finger around the edge of Nick's hole. Nick squirmed at first from overstimulation, but soon it began to feel good again, his spine and abdomen on fire.
"Where'd you — how'd you — Why do you know so much?" Nick asked, words coming out broken and jagged as Wolfwood pleasured him.
"Vash is way more experienced and a decent teacher, when he can keep his mouth shut," Wolfwood said. The mention caused a sudden burning pain inside of Nick, contrasting weirdly with the enjoyment. "You'll find out. And now you can surprise him, too." He must have noticed Nick's body tensing again because he said, "Let's focus on you." His finger slid inside Nick, who cried out at the feeling.
In truth, it wasn't so different from the times he'd tried it before — his hole was tight around Wolfwood's finger, and Wolfwood took his time exploring him inside and out. But something about someone else being inside him made it feel better, somehow; Wolfwood seemed mostly to care about his pleasure, only occasionally grinding his cock against Nick's ass. Nick wasn't sure he'd come just from this, but the intimacy was nice, Wolfwood breathing hard against his shoulder as he worked.
Then Wolfwood poked his fingertip up against a new spot deep on his front wall. Nick groaned as a new, immediate type of pleasure surged through him. "There we go," Wolfwood said, massaging the spot, making Nick's eyes roll back. Wolfwood fucked Nick with his finger a few times, diving deep and drawing back, always sure to touch that spot.
"Now we're not gonna get you to squirt your first time, but if I can get you to say I wrecked you pretty damn decent, I'm happy," Wolfwood said as he pushed another finger inside of Nick.
"I — I think —" Nick struggled for words, letting out an embarrassing high-pitched noise as Wolfwood rubbed his spot again.
"I'm doin' a damn good job," Wolfwood finished, sounding self-satisfied. "Look, if I couldn't fuck myself stupid, that'd be pretty bad, don'tcha think?"
"Uh huh." Nick was going to get back at him somehow. He didn't know how but somehow.
"Just sayin', you've got a lot to live up to," Wolfwood said.
"Go fuck yourself," Nick managed, though his knees were growing weak.
"Oh ho, he's got a mouth on him!" Wolfwood mocked. "Maybe I should fix that, huh?"
"What?" Nick gasped. Suddenly there were fingers between his teeth. He bit down.
"Nope, none of that," Wolfwood said, his fingers stopping. Nick whined against the fingers in his mouth. "Play nice or we stop."
Nick grabbed his wrist and yanked his fingers from his mouth. "Fuckin' warn a guy!" he shouted.
"Whoa, okay, okay," Wolfwood said, quieter, sounding chastised. "I got carried away with it, sorry."
"You pull that shit on Vash?" Nick asked.
"We escalate pretty fast," Wolfwood admitted. "But uh, he did make me talk it out first."
"Yeah, I think that was a good idea." Nick let go of Wolfwood's hand. "Maybe don't just do shit."
"Okay, okay, I get it, I get it," Wolfwood said. "You wanna be done?"
"Wha- no," Nick said, thrusting his hips on Wolfwood's fingers, desperate to feel good again. "Just don't be stupid."
"Will do, chief." Nick gasped as Wolfwood resumed fingerfucking him.
Time seemed to slow down, almost to stop as Wolfwood fingered him, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. Nick rocked back into Wolfwood, moaning out his pleasure. "I think this way is better, anyway," Wolfwood decided. "I like hearin' you."
"Does it — unh, turn you on? Fuck," Nick groaned out, rolling his hips.
"Fuck, yeah," Wolfwood crooned. "God, I wanna come —"
"Hurry up and do it!" Nick said, surprising himself with his eagerness.
"Whoa, boyo, slow your roll there," Wolfwood replied with a laugh. "You want me to come inside?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?" Wolfwood sounded a little reluctant, which surprised Nick. "Things could get weird if —"
"My tubes are tied," Nick interrupted. "And shit's already weird. Just — think of it as masturbatin', or whatever you said before."
"Damn," Wolfwood said, hand coming to a stop. "I thought I had a number done on me but — damn."
"I wanted it," Nick said defensively. "I dunno how the Eye agreed to it, somethin' about not havin' me wiped out for a week every month, I think. Now get back to it."
Wolfwood instead pulled his hand completely from Nick's pants. Before he could protest, Wolfwood told him, "Get your clothes off." Nick wriggled out of his pants and underwear; that was all he could manage. He felt Wolfwood behind him yanking down his boxers, leaving himself completely exposed.
Then Wolfwood rolled them over so Nick was lying on his stomach. He crawled on top of Nick; Nick could feel his cock pressing up against his ass and taint. Wolfwood reached between them and lined up his dick with Nick's hole. Nick didn't have the breath to shout when Wolfwood penetrated him; he just groaned, feeling split open, feeling fuller and fuller as Wolfwood inched his way inside.
Fuck, it felt good, especially when Wolfwood's head wedged up against that one goddamn spot inside of him —
Wolfwood whined with him. "A-always wanted to try this one," he whispered in Nick's ear.
"Feel good?"
"Fuck, you're tight." Wolfwood gave an experimental thrust. Nick wheezed as he rubbed the good spot; he may have leaked a little around Wolfwood's cock. "You okay?"
"Maybe take a little weight off me?" Nick asked, voice breathy. Wolfwood set his elbows on either side of Nick and propped himself up, taking some of the pressure off Nick. "That's good," he said, voice stronger with his breath back.
"Get ready," Wolfwood said, and that was all the warning Nick got. He felt hazy and stupid as Wolfwood started to fuck him in earnest. It was rough and it took a couple minutes for Wolfwood to find his rhythm, but every jolt, every awkward thrust felt perfect. Once Wolfwood settled into his pattern, it didn't take long for Nick to find himself coming, long and hard, pulsing around Wolfwood's cock.
He felt delirious as he came down, drunk on the feel of Wolfwood's dick inside him. Wolfwood had abandoned holding himself up, instead roaming Nick's chest and stomach with his hands. Nick didn't mind the additional pressure on him now; Wolfwood's solid presence was a comfort now that he was basking in the afterglow.
"I can stop —" Wolfwood started.
"Don't you fuckin' dare," Nick told him, cupping his hands with his own.
"Oh good," Wolfwood panted, and pounded more ferociously into him. It felt a little strange, overstimulation hitting Wolfwood like a brick, but there was a part of it that still felt good, too.
He felt it when Wolfwood came. Felt the spatter of cum inside him, felt Wolfwood fuck him more furiously before coming to a winded stop. It was weird, maybe slightly unpleasant? But mostly he felt spent, thought maybe Wolfwood felt so too. He was grateful just to feel Wolfwood lie on top of him, breathing heavily.
He thought he heard a click. Might've just been his imagination. He was quickly distracted from the thought when he felt smoky cigarette whiskey breath on his neck. Lips on his neck. Wolfwood was kissing him again.
"I'd say that's a little weird, but —"
"Yeah, yeah, this whole thing's weird, I get it," Wolfwood said into Nick's ear. "You ready to go again?"
"I think you wrung me out," Nick admitted. "I still got shit to do today." Shit like traveling on to the next town, looking for Vash. Alone. The thought made his heart sink. He reached up and patted Wolfwood's cheek. "We can stay like this for a bit, though."
"Okay, cool, yeah." Wolfwood was starting to go soft inside of him but he still felt nice. They laid there together for who knew how long, Nick drifting back to sleep without realizing it.
When he woke, he was alone.
There was a note on top of his pants, in the hotel's stationery. Nick picked it up and read over it.
I believe in Vash. And you.
That was all.
That was all Nick needed.
He went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, Wolfwood's cum his only other reminder that the other man had been there. He thought about putting the note in his Punisher, but opted for his pocket instead. He'd keep it safe.
One last check of the room and he was gone again, off to look for the impossible, with a bit of reassurance that maybe it wasn't such a lost cause after all.