Title: Gun oil.
Author: The Faceless Evil
E-mail addresss: TheFacelessEvil@AOL.com
Website: http://committed.to/thefacelessevil/
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, strong langauge, death
Show/Video Game: Trigun
Couple: Midvalley/Nicholas + Nicholas/Midvalley
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Thanks for creating 'em.

Author's Note: This is based on the anime, not the manga. It contains
spoilers from episode twenty-three, and twenty-four, only at the ending
parts of the story. So you can still read it up to the last part, 
without running into any. I felt there needed to be more Midvalley and
Nicholas fanfiction out there, so here is more. Enjoy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"How about her?"
"Eh, I don't know. I don't really like blondes."
"Really? I love 'em."
"Fine, Nick. You take the blonde, I'll take the redhead."
"The redhead? Why?"
"I like redheads."

At the bar of a Hotel lounge, the two men sat. Entertained by a bottle 
of Wild Turkey, and the lovely ladies that would pass them by. They 
resembled night and day. One being tanned, scruffy, and wearing black. 
The other of lighter skin, clean shaven, and donning white.

However different the two looked, they were both rather lewd in 
observations.

"Hey Middie, look at the rack on her."

What followed were rude stares, and low, appreciative whistles.

"I fellow could get lost in those."
"Why don't we go introduce ourselves?"

As the darker man sat up, he was stopped by a tug on his sleeve.

"Wait, she's got company."

This 'company' happened to be the lady's boyfriend. He embraced her 
with a public display of affection, and slipped a protective arm 
around her shoulder. After observing this, the standing of the two let 
out a wicked sounding chuckle. 

"He doesn't look so tough, we could take him."

His partner broke into laughter at that suggestion.

"Just what kind of Priest are you?!" He joked.
"One who appreciates a fine set of breasts. C'mon, you in or out?"

The seated man grinned, polished off the last of the liquor in his 
glass, and stood up.

"I'm in."

* * *

"He was tougher then he looked."
"Maybe it was the fact he had three other guys with him."

The two men were seated in the empty lounge, chuckling to themselves. 
The place was a mess. Overturned tables, chairs, and beer glasses were 
strewn across the floor like sand. The one known as Midvalley, sprawled
himself out across the stage, relaxing against the buffed wood. The 
darker man, Nicholas, was busy with gingerly touching the bruise on 
his jaw.

"They didn't hit very hard." The Priest's grin was rather cocky, and 
his Partner gave him one to match.
"We kicked them around good, didn't we?"
"Yeah, but we didn't get the girl." They shook their heads in 
disappointment. The girl had sided with her boyfriend, and helped to 
carry the wounded out.
"It figures." Sighed out the chocolate haired lounge lizard. "I'll 
never fully understand woman. We were better looking then that guy 
was."
"Completely." This friend nodded in agreement.
"We were stronger."
"Yup."
"And we're probably MUCH better in bed."
"Damn straight we are!"
"We would know, eh?" A suggestive wink was tossed to Nicholas. His 
dark eyes sparkled mischievously, as he waved a few digits to him. 

"C'mere."

The response he got was a low laugh, followed by a knowing smirk. 

"Couldn't have the girl, so you figure ya might as well have me, eh?" 

After speaking, the Priest crawled over to the leisure suited individual,
and began unbuttoning his coat.

"Well, since I was all worked up to get some, it might as well be from 
the last resort." The musician joked, reaching up his hands to return 
the favor of disrobing.

"I'm the last resort, am I?" He replied with mock indignity. "Well, 
then, I'm so insulted I might just go tell you to gitcher sex somewhere
else!" 

Nicholas threateningly moved his hands away, his grin wide, and clever. 
Midvalley immediately rose to the bait, sitting up to then tackle and 
pin the teasing ruffian to the hard wood. Growling softly in his face. 

"Oh yeah?"

Calloused fingers wove into those brown locks, and the tanned one 
lustily retorted. 

"Yeah." Then pulling his partner's head down, to meet their lips in a 
frenzied kiss.

Midvalley The Hornfreak, and Nicholas D. Wolfwood had a very peculiar 
relationship. They met through the gang of killers known as the Gung 
Ho Guns. When they first met, Nicholas considered Midvalley a slimy, 
promiscuous, dirtbag. Midvalley considered Nicholas a hard-ass, 
over-religious, filthy freak. Getting to know each other made them 
realize how wrong they were. Sharing common interests such as, women, 
alcohol, guns, and of course, the activity they were engaging in right 
now.

I was pure need, and they both knew it. No commitment, no strings, 
just sex. Neither of them felt they deserved anymore then that. 

The kiss had opened the floodgates of that particular need, and they 
began to literally tear at each other's clothes. Snow, and raven 
colored coats were forced open, popping buttons. The shirts underneath, 
pink and white, were pulled apart in the same manner. 

The older man tore away from Nicholas' lips, trailing his own down that 
strong neck. Light bites, and suckles were placed along the tanned 
flesh, as his hands unzipped the black pants. What his fingers found 
were a set of boxers, that he caressed the front of. A smirk came to 
his lips, as the Priest's groans became loud, and demanding. 

He bucked his confined hips up against Midvalley's hand, feverently 
wishing those boxers weren't in the way. His wish was soon granted. 
The rush of cold night air against his painfully aroused length made 
him arch his back, and gasp. 

The suave man chuckled, and began inching his way down Nicholas' body. 
Pressing his soft lips against that flawless chest, and flicking his 
warm tongue against the pert nipples. He loved to make his partner 
squirm, and he did an excellent job of making him do so. Sharp teeth 
nibbled at that sensitive nub, while hands pushed the lower garments 
down further. This cue was taken as long legs kicked to remove those 
pants and boxers entirely. Midvalley then knelt in between the Priest's 
feet, effortlessly tugging off his tan loafers. From there he gazed at 
that fit body, in all of it's bronzed glory. 

Leaning up on his elbows, the nude man donned a playful sneer.

"Are ya gonna admire the view all night? Or are ya gonna cut it out 
and fuck me already?"
"You said a naughty word!" Middie laughed, then clucked his tongue 
scoldingly. Reaching forward to get a firm grip on the standing arousal, 
squeezing to get quite a vocal, and pleased reaction from his obscene 
companion. Nicholas rocked his form, up against that hand, while 
groaning out his next sentence.

"Damn.. right.. I did. G-God... if ya don't wanna hear it.. cover up 
my mouth!" After declaring that, he sat up, wrapping one arm around 
his casual lover's neck, then tackling those lips with his own. Wet 
mouths opened, and they began an inflamed wrestling match with their 
tongues. 

Nick's hand dropped to the creased pants below, violently unclasping 
and wrenching down the zipper. No barrier blocked him from reaching 
inside, and roughly grab Midvalley's erection. Their groans went in 
unison as hands pumped along solid flesh. 

The dark eyed man knew if they kept this up any longer, they'd end up 
in a very messy situation in the middle of that stage. Well, either 
way it would end up messy, but he wanted a bit more sensation then 
this. Jerking his head away from that mind-blowing kiss, he panted 
as he reached inside of Nicholas' open coat pocket. Withdrawing a 
small, brown container of strange smelling lubrication. Gun oil, 
no gunfighter would go without it. He popped open the lid, and poured 
some of the contents onto the working hand against that hardness. The 
substance slid down that shaft quickly, and his hand moved to nestle 
between the Priest's thighs. Long digits getting covered, then working 
up to find the puckered entrance. There he penetrated, and began the 
task of stretching and preparing his friend.

This caused extreme reactions from Nicholas. His free hand clenched on 
Midvalley's shoulders, legs spreading as his position on that lap 
became closer. He growled out against that pale neck, biting harshly, 
snickering at the shivers that sent. 

"Y.. You owe me.. s.. some more of that stuff.. "

He didn't wait for a response, before pushing the saxophone man over. 
Pinning his arms up over his head, and settling his hips on that taunt 
stomach. He breathed hot breathes against his companions surprised 
face, and slide his way back. He didn't want to wait any longer, he 
needed everything now. He held his breath, and clenched his eyes shut, 
when he touched that sizable shaft against his most vulnerable area. 
No longer did he hesitate, and he sat up, to push himself down it. 
His body shuddered, as inch by inch, the girth of that penis invaded 
his body. 

The musician's back arched up, as his own eyes closed. The sudden 
sensation was unexpected, but most welcome. Their noises of ultimate 
pleasure matched until he was completely buried within his Priest. 
Eyes opened to meet the steel, blue-grey gaze. It was silence before 
the lust came at them again. Wrenching his arms free, he grasped those 
tanned hips, and set his feet against the stage. Giving his partner 
only a moment to prepare before he began wildly thrusting up, into 
that tight heat. 

Nicholas' reaction was a cry from his throat, taking in loud gasps. 
Pressing his hands against the exposed chest, as his body was wracked 
with pleasure, and only touches of pain. Indigo touched, midnight 
strands began to stick to his forehead from the damp sweat that 
dripped from it. Droplets went from his chin, to roll down his smooth 
torso, teasing him by brushing against his steely member. He was 
beginning to reach his own hand to himself, to perhaps relieve some 
of that tension, before that hand was whapped away. He was about to 
curse at the dominate man, before long digits wrapped around his 
abused length, and began pulling with a match to the brutal slamming 
he was taking. 

The dark haired man watched as his companion raved, swore in his 
pleasured groans. He couldn't close his eyes from that delicious 
sight, knowing that when Nicholas was overwhelmed, his vocabulary got 
quite obscene. Commands were delivered, and challenges of 'is that the 
best you could do!?' were said, and Midvalley did everything in his 
power to meet up to those expectations. It was a game of forgetting 
real life, and their true troubles, they were both very willing to 
engage in it. 

It became even wilder when Nicholas decided to take more command, 
and ram his hips down whenever the musician would thrust upwards. 
They thrashed against each other, as bodies convulsed and worked to 
their limits. 

It took only a few more minutes before they each shouted loud exclamations,
and reached a mutual peak. No names were shouted, just the guttural cry 
of the act. 

The Priest hauched over, against the man below him. Shoulders rising 
and falling with his heavy breathes. He ached a bit, but felt so 
filled as to not move. Letting his Asian touched eyes open slightly, 
to witness his partner flicking his tongue against his own fingers. 
The fingers that were once around Nicholas' shaft. Upon witnessing 
this, he snickered tiredly.

"W.. What's that like..?"

Midvalley chuckled, shaking his head a bit.

"N.. Not the best taste in the world, but it's not the worse either."

He rose that coated palm up to the tanned man's face. Nicholas' 
Roman nose wrinkled a moment, before he gave in, and let himself 
taste the clear remains. He didn't react violently to the salty, 
bitter taste. Raising his eyebrows in agreement.

"It won't kill ya, that's for sure."

* * *

Outside of a city called February, a lanky, tanned figure was sitting 
on a motorcycle. It was Nicholas, who was nursing a cigarette, and 
brushing sand from his hair. A sour look stuck on his features as he was
approached by a man in a khaki suit. His eyes downturned, dropped his
spent cigarette into the sand, and grumbled.

"Yer late. Did Legato keep you busy?"

This was a topic they often clashed about. It was no secret that Midvalley
and the leader of the Gung Ho Guns, engaged in brutal, if not dangerous,
sex. It was obvious it put a lot of pressure, and strain on the musician.
The situation worried Nicholas, but he only showed his annoyed emotion 
about it, not wanting to seem soft. What he received in reply was an
exasperated sign, followed by the ever-wielding suave smirk.

"Your acting like a jealous boyfriend. Here's our new assignment."

Ringed digits tapped against a piece of note paper, where a name and a 
city had been scrawled out. 

Ignoring the first comment, the Priest leaned forward to look. The name
was familiar, it was man who owned the water rights to March. He was rumored
to be very stingy and high-priced with the precious resource, sending most
people into poverty and starvation.

"Oh? That's a big-time fellow. I wouldn't be surprised if he was heavily
guarded."
"Nothing we can't handle. Lets go."

With that, the two settled onto the Angelina, and drove off towards the
direction of March. 

They often worked like this, never questioning the motive, just killing.
Even though this seemed like a logical target, it was still mindless and
mechanical. Midvalley and Nicholas had been paired together often considering
they did this job supremely well, and even better when they were a team.
Knowing each other's moves, and thought patterns as much as they knew
themselves, turned to be a deadly combination for any opposition. 

This was ruthless, immoral, but they felt they had no other alternatives. 
The type of life they were living had taken it's toll, however, both of them
were slowly losing their humanity. Middie felt that Nick still had a chance
to regain what he's lose, to grasp compassion once again, and live a normal 
life. However, he could never voice this to the Priest, for reasons he was
quietly ashamed of. 

He would miss him.

Even though he felt that his adoration for people and life was completely
gone, he still had a bond towards the scruffy Priest. He seemed to be the
only individual who would even ask how Middie's day had been going. The 
only lover who stayed the next morning, demanding breakfast through kisses
against the musician's ear. 

He knew he was fooling himself. There was no way that he and Nicholas
could be together for much longer. Considering this dangerous lifestyle,
one of them would die soon enough. Midvalley no longer cared for his
regret-filled life, and hoped that he would be the first to catch the
fatal bullet. Thoughts like these sunk him to lows, so he would drown 
himself in alcohol, music, and sex. Being only in his early thirties,
he felt like the oldest man on Gunsmoke, and just as tired.

The bright suns fell behind the mesas, as dusk came in. It was at this
time that they arrived in the large city. Nicholas slowed the bike to
drive through the crowded main street. Their objective couldn't be missed, 
the target lived in the biggest houses in the city.

Nicholas parked quite a distance away, in the alley next to a bar. He 
reached behind Middie to heft his large, six-foot 'Punisher' cross up.
Setting on his shoulder, he watched as his companion hopped off the bike,
and rested his saxophone 'Sylvia' on his arm.

"So do we go through the front door, for a surprise attack?"
"Yer insane. You know that, don't you?"

The sandy Priest gave the musician a sly smirk. A wink was sent his way
in return.

"Yes, I do. You love it. Coming, Devil?"

He watched as that lounge lizard practically strutted out of the alley.

"Of course, Player."

About half way to the house, he began to get an uneasy feeling. They've
had missions like this before, but never so blatantly obvious. This man
would be a target for anybody with a sense of their own justice, how
has he lived so long? He stopped questioning himself when they found 
themselves at the front door. 

"No turning back now."

A murmur to himself, shaking his head to rid the negative vibes, and
focus on the task at hand. Midvalley's smooth voice flowed into his brain
once again.

"So should we knock?"

To respond, the Priest slammed the Punisher against the door. The wood
splintered and broke apart from the sheer strength put behind that blow.
Without further word, they stepped over the shattered remains, into the
large main room.

The sight made them both stand still. The room was completely empty,
it was as though the place has been abandoned. 

Cautious steps were taken forward, until the musician halted his partner
with his hand, his eyes narrowing.

"I hear something."

A faint clicking sound was emitting from somewhere in the floor. His
exceptional hearing was picking it up, and it seemed to be coming from 
directly beneath them. 

There was no time to react before the floor under them opened up, and 
they fell into the darkness.

* * *

"Unh..." The Player groaned, feeling a dull pain course through his body. 
It took awhile for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, so he stared at
the ceiling until it stopped being blurry. Sitting up, the first thing 
that he checked for were his weapons. Sylvia, and his hidden revolver were 
both missing. 

He swore under his breath. So far things weren't looking good. Next thoughts
on his mind where of his partner. It took only a few moments to spot him,
laying on the ground. Midvalley heaved a sigh of relief, he crawled over
to the sprawled form, and shook him by his shoulder. 

"Wolfwood..."

A groggy whisper, but that soon changed when the body didn't move. His
chest tightened when he feared the worst. Was Nicholas...

"Nick!"

He practically shouted that out, shaking the Priest harder. Stopping only
when he heard the pained moans.

"A-Agh, yer makin' me sick, cut it out."

The lanky man shook out his mussed up dark indigo strands, pulling himself
up to blink at the musician.

"Don'cha go freaking out on me. I ain't about to die."

Midvalley just snickered, and looked away.

"I wasn't worried about your mangy ass. I just didn't want your corpse
smelling up the place."
"Sure. Sure."

A wink of a steelgrey eye. Nicholas knew better then to believe that. 
Once he was more coherent, they both climbed to their feet. The joking
stopped when they stared at each of the four walls surrounding them. It
seemed to be made of stone, but it was cold and metallic to the touch. The
door was similar, the only difference is that the surface was smooth, 
and that there was a head-high grate in it, for breathing purposes obviously.

"We're fucked." 

The saxophone man growled, and kicked the door. The clang echoed 
through the room, and Nicholas joined him in his anger.

"HEY!!!!! LET US OUT!!! WE WERE JUST PASSIN' THROUGH!!! WHY THE HELL ARE
YA KEEPIN' US IN HERE?!" 

That outburst received cruel laughter in reply. As a pair of beady eyes
peered at them through the grate. His voice was gruff, and not very 
intelligent sounding.

"Passing through? That's some artillery you've got there for salesmen.
Looks like you got caught, just like your other assassin buddies. You'll
have fun rotting in there. We're holding a bet of which one will eat the
other first. I've got twenty double dollars on the pissy cross-wearing one
to eat the sleazy looking one-first. Don't disappoint me!"

That sent the rest of the unseen group to roars of laughter. Nicholas fumed,
and began screaming a string of curses.

"I'LL SEE YA ALL BURN IN HELL FOR THIS! I'M A MAN OF THE CLOTH, YER GONNA
GET IT FROM GOD!!!!"

Midvalley winced, and placed his hand on Nick's back, patting lightly.

"Hey. Cut that out. Lets just sit down and think this through, okay?"

It was better then acting upset, and making the lackeys laugh more. So
the pair of them sat, and thought it out. Trapped, heavily guarded, and
they weren't going to open the door for meals either. After an hour of 
tossing back and forth futile ideas, the two found themselves laying,
side by side on the ground. Nicholas was smoking a cigarette, and his 
partner was just lighting up one. Even though Middie didn't normally smoke,
this was a special occasion.

"I never thought I'd go out like this. Trapped, and confined. I at least
wanted a blaze of glory..." The lounge lizard mused.
"Well, I ain't givin' up yet. There's gotta be someway to get outta here.
I don't figure our 'pals' at the Gung Ho Guns are gonna give us a helpin'
hand though." A ruffled grunt at that.
"That's just the way it is. You fail. You die. Simple. I mean, come on.
A trap was looking us right in the face, and we still didn't see it."
"Well, yer supposed to sense this sort of stuff comin'. Yer the one with the
big hearing. Or were ya too distracted over the pain in yer ass over a 
night with boy blue?"

That earned him a cold glare, and ashes onto his shirt from Middie tapping
the cigarette over him. He yelped, and brushed it off quickly.

"Shut up. That isn't any of your business."
"It IS my business when you start fucking up yer job over it!"
"Your just a jealous little bitch."
"A BITCH?! YOU'RE THE BITCH!"

Tempers snapped, and the two soon found themselves engaged in a fierce 
wrestling match. Nick immediately took the top, tugging a fist full
of chocolate hair, while his other hand tried to aim a punch at his jaw.
Middie was too fast for him, and grabbed that violent fist. Twisting his 
free one around to punch his partner in the stomach. This was enough to
knock the air out of the Priest, and give the musician enough time to 
flip him to the ground. 

For the next thirty minutes, they worked out their aggressions and
anger out on each other. The end result, was laying down, much like
it was before the match begun. Their clothes were torn in several areas,
hair disheveled, bruises were sporadic on their necks and faces. Otherwise
there was no permanent damage, these types of scuffles they were used
to having. 

"Now what? I'm bushed, and we're still trapped." The darker man panted,
pressing the bottoms of his tan loafers against the cold stone.
"Well, since we're going to die. Isn't this usually the time
where we start talking about our pasts?" 

Middie was kidding, but something to that suggestion made sense. He sat
in silence, letting it sink in. He had never told anybody about his past, 
his regrets, what he was truly like underneath that confident exterior.
Why not? He was curious about Nick's past.

"So how'd you end up getting raised by a guy like Chapel the Evergreen,
eh? Did you have folks?" He started in on it, not all too eager to reveal 
himself first.

Neither was Nicholas, but he reluctantly gave in. After all, they were
trapped, neither were in the mood for giving the men outside of the door
a sexual show, so through personal whispers he began the story.

"He picked me up when I was seven. He's not really that bad a guy, but
defiantly has some habits that need looking into." 

A moment of uncomfortable silence, then he continued, leaving that to the 
imagination. "What happened to my parents was what changed me. Whether 
it was as simple as owing money to the wrong type of people, I'll never 
know. I was so young at the time, things like that went right over my 
head. Whatever it was, a man turned up on the doorstep. He talked for 
a few moments, then pulled a gun. My Dad tossed me back, pulled his own 
gun, and bang. Before I knew it, both my mother and my father were 
lying on the ground..." 

He paused once again. Swallowing against his dry throat, before 
talking further. "I took the gun that my father dropped, and shot at him.
He didn't seem to expect it at all coming from me, looking me right in 
the eyes before falling to the ground. I lost everything then. Chapel
picked me up only a few days later of being dropped off at an orphanage.
He had heard my story, and figured I had potential of becoming a great
killer of more scum like that. Ha. I should've told him to go fuck himself.
Look where I ended up? No better then the man I shot down."

A raise of his long fingers, and he ran them against his eyes. Obviously
really eager to get away from the subject. "You know the rest."

"Yeah." Midvalley let his own eyes fall closed. Reaching his hand over,
to rest it on that ebony clad shoulder. Giving it a supportive squeeze.
"That's rough. You were really young, it isn't your fault for going
that route."

"Maybe. I'll never know now." The Priest heaved a heavy sigh. "What about
you, Player? What drove you to this?"

The Hornfreak knew this was coming. He figured it would be easy to say,
considering how long he's been blocking the sorrow. Though when he started
speaking, he found himself experience the pain as if he was doing it again.

"I was out on my own at an older age. Thirteen. It was the last time I 
had ever failed." 

He chuckled weakly, placing his free palm over his eyes, as if the 
darkness was a comfort. "When you're in the Gung Ho Guns, you can never
fail or you die. This was different. I failed, and somebody else died. 
When I was two years old, my mother died in child birth. My father was
so devastated, that he gave up Church, and started drinking like there
was no tomorrow. He still took care of us, but not without a price. When
I was about six, he started hitting me. He'd just get plastered, and 
slap me around when I didn't do the slightest of things. For example, if
I left the door open during the night. The next morning I couldn't even
speak through the bruises."

A strange sensation came over him, when Nicholas scooted closer. He
wrapped an arm around Middie's torso, and rested his head on his 
shoulder. Midvalley was touched by the gesture, never showed it, but
did move his arm to slink around his head. Holding him close, and 
proceeded with the painful tale.

"He left my little sister alone. She was... " No, he couldn't talk about
her without feeling those emotions again. He fought it back, and skipped 
it. "Anyway. When she was eleven, he beat her until she bled for just
dropping one of his whiskey bottles. That was the last straw for me. We
packed some things, and went to the bus station to run away from him.
Unfortunately he followed us, with a gun in his hand. I held her behind 
me, and told him to go home. That we hated him, that he was a worthless
drunk. He told us that we were leeches, viruses, killers ... he blamed
us for mother's death, for his alcohol problem, his lack of job, and 
money. I told him if he hated us so much, he should let us go. He told 
me that he was just going to exterminate us. He shot at me. He was so
drunk, his aim was off. The bullet went right through my shoulder,
and my sister fell to the ground. She was standing just so ... it went
right into her head, and killed her instantly. I saw red, just red, 
and charged that bastard. Kicking, clawing, screaming. I grabbed that 
gun from him, and shot him. Over, and over, and over until I had emptied 
the chamber, and the floor was covered in his blood. By this time the 
law had stepped in, dragging me from the body, disarming me. They were
going to press charges until they heard the witnesses stories. I was
so numb I couldn't speak. I broke from them, and wandered out into the
streets with only the clothes on my back, and saxophone in hand. I 
survived on my own, using my music to gain money. Knives found me quite
a few years later. Rest is history."

Shocked silence is what he got from his partner. A few minutes of that,
before the comforting hug tightened. Midvalley held back the stinging
in his eyes, and buried his face into Nicholas' hair. Murmuring softly.

"What was your mother's name?"
"... Angelina. What was your sister's name?"
"... Sylvia."

They held each other, their sorrow mingling together to form an incredible
bond of trust. More then just the casual partners that they previously
where, this effected their hearts in a way they thought they never could've
been. Without a further word, understanding without speaking, and falling
asleep in each others arms.

* * * 

Midvalley awoke first, his sensitive hearing picking up foot steps, someone
going up and down the hall. At first, he grunted at the disturbance of
his sleep, but when his eyes set on the beautiful Priest snuggled up
against him, he had no complaints. He caressed his fingertips against
the side of that sleeping head, nuzzling against that smoke scented
hair. 

"Wake up, you're heavy."

Nicholas wasn't a morning person, but he held no malice in his voice
when he muttered back.

"Fuck you. Lemme sleep."

The musician wouldn't have any of that! Grabbing Nick by his shoulders,
he pulled him up, and turned him around so that he was facing him. Silencing
that vulgar mouth with an aggressive, yet affectionate kiss. He wasn't
fought at all, as hands slipped around his neck, and that lanky body
settled on top of him. They spent only a couple of minutes like that, 
before the darker man pulled away, snickering softly.

"You have morning breath."
"Liar."

An insulted grunt at the accusation, running his hands through those
indigo strands.

"We're still trapped, right?"
"Yup."
"I'm thirsty."
"Me too."
"And Hungry."
"Join the club."
"Can I eat you?"
"Yes, but you can't use yer teeth."

They smirked at each other, their perverted chuckles were cut short
from a loud explosion that shook the entire cell.

"... The HELL?!" 

Scrambling to their feet, they ran to the door and peered out. Another
explosion set off, causing dust from the ceiling to fall to the ground.
Midvalley stared through the metal grate, watching people run past the
door, towards the stairs. These people were immediately cut off when the 
walls exploded from the right side, and a mass of flames burst out. 

Those dark eyes widened, he grabbed the Priest, and tackled him against 
the wall. Covering his body with his own, when the next explosion caused 
flame to hit against the door, sending it off of it's hinges, and slamming 
into the opposite wall.

"Gah!" Exclaimed Nick. "What the Hell is going on?!"

He peeked out from over Middie's shoulder, very shocked. 

"I don't know, but I'm not about to look a gift Thomas in the mouth. Lets get
out of here."
"Right behind you, Player."

The two got up, and began walking down the hall. By this time they could 
hear gunshots, and the sounds of fighting. Stepping over the rubble, and
bodies of ruffians, they reached the stop of the stairs, and kicked past the
broken door. They found themselves outside, in the blazing afternoon sun. 
Only reason being because the house around them had been reduced to nothing 
more then kindling. 

Men were battling on this fallen structure, their reason obvious. The town
had finally gotten fed up with living in fear, and poverty. They gathered
together with all of the artillery they had, and bombed the place.

Middie and Nick ducked down behind a pile of wood to avoid stay bullets.

"Where's Sylvia?!" The musician yelled, frantically looking around.

His partner got an odd look at the question. "Hornfreak, she's been dead fer
twenty years--"
"NOT the girl! The SAXOPHONE!"
"How the Hell should I know?!"
"We're not leaving without her."
"Well, I ain't leaving without my Punisher either. So lets go look for them."

It didn't take long to find the items they were looking for. Pushing past
people, wood, and dodging bullets, they came upon a crumbled stone room.
Inside, they found the large cross, and the golden saxophone propped up against
a wall. 

Nicholas immediately walked over to his Punisher, and heaved it up.

"Lets find our target and get out of here."
"All ready have."

He turned his head to look where Midvalley was gazing. A man was slumped
over a shattered desk, mauled and shot up in many brutal ways. A sigh was
heaved out, and he shrugged.

"That took care of our problem."
"No kidding. We're out of here."

* * *

"O-Oh Jesus..."

The pair had finally gotten back to the Gung Ho Gun mansion. They made their 
report, and both ended up in Midvalley's room afterwards. At the mention of
'shower' brought them to the situation they were in right now. Nicholas, pinned
up against the shower wall, while a certain musician was licking down his neck.
He didn't start getting truly vocal until he was being fondled by those calloused
hands. Gripping back against the tile, he moaned out.

"Y-Yer takin' advantage of me..."
"You like it."
"D-Damn straight..."

As much as he didn't want to break away from that, he still did. Pushing Midvalley
back against the opposite wall, he took dominance, in plundering his mouth with
a wet, steamy kiss. His hand lowering to grip at the lounge lizard's firm rear,
sneaky digits trailing to the tight opening, and forced their way in. 

"G-Gnh! .. w-water.. i.. isn't good.. lubri.. cant.."
 
The saxophone man barely managed to say that through the kiss, flinching and
shifting his hips from those motions. The Priest smirked, pulled away, and snagged 
a bottle of shampoo from the shower shelf.

"Wuss. Can't take it?"
"I can take anything. Hey! That's mine!"

Nicholas feigned an innocent look as he squeezed out the shampoo onto his hand.

"I know. That was my gun oil you used before, too."
"Well, that was different..."
"No, it ain't."

That hand lowered to his own erection, and he smoothed it against the hard flesh.
Dropping the bottle, he didn't give time for his companion to complain, by hooking
his hands behind those pale thighs, and pulling him up. He was strong enough to 
lift the musician up, and position himself between those legs. When he lowered
Midvalley, it was to impale him on that slick member. 

The cry was a mixture of pleasure and pain. Arms locked around the Priest's neck,
and he was hugged tightly to the shivering body. His legs wound around the tan,
slender waist, and groaned as the pace went at a medium speed. He rubbed his wet
face against Nicholas', chuckling breathily.

"L.. Love it when your forceful."
"That's 'cause y-yer a bitch."

For that comment the clergyman got a nipple pinched rather hard. 

"YOU'RE the bitch!"

No way was he going to take that. He slammed fiercely into that impertinent 
older man, muffling his own yelp from the pinch. 

"WHO is?!"

Midvalley let out a masculine yell, and thudded his head back against the wall.
Adjusting his hips to an angle to receive the full sensation of those thrusts,
groaning each time it was delivered deeper.

"S-Shut up.. a.. and just.. "
"I know."

Nicholas kept one arm underneath his partner, while his free hand moved up. 
Enclosing the swollen length into his wet fist, and working it at a different
rhythm then his pounding. Running his sharp fingernail over the glistening
head, then raking the digits down to the base. He snickered when this brought
such a vocal reaction from Midvalley, who was normally so controlled during sex.

How that control wavers when you're on the receiving end. Middie was never as
vulgar as Nick during the feverish parts, but it was very close to being so.
His exclamations were smothered with the Priest's mouth, and they locked in a
fierce battle with their tongues.

Fingertips dug harshly into those tanned shoulders, enough to leave bruising
marks, that gripped even harder when the speed became literally overwhelming.
Heels pressed against his Partner's rear, rocking his own hips against the 
violent ramming, feeling as though he was being nailed into the wall. It didn't
feel bad at all, he couldn't get enough of that sensation, and Nicholas was the
only person strong enough to deliver it.

They lasted together for what seemed like hours, before they gave in. 
Perhaps it was the fact that they became closer during the mission,
whatever it was, their climactic shouts were each other's names. It shocked 
both of them. Clutching each other under the stream of hot water, they stared, 
while attempting to regulate their breathing.

Not saying a further word, they just kissed. Eyes closed, slow, and affectionate.
Something they had never done with each other before.

* * * 

"We have separate missions."
"You're KIDDING me!"

The two sat on a couch in the mansion's lounge. Nicholas had his head tilted
back, looking a mixture of peeved and disappointed.

"Can't believe this. Was it because we got caught last time?"
"Suppose so. They find out about everything. Either that, or it would be easier
to gain Vash The Stampede's trust if you we alone."
"This is bullshit."

The Priest grunted, and the musician attempted to comfort him by rubbing
his shoulder.

"Hey. Big deal. So you'll be gone for a few years. That just means when you come
back, the sex will be mind-blowing."

He smirked jokingly, and Nick gave him a playful shove.

"You have a one track mind, ya perv. But yer right. Stock up on a ton of
gun oil, and I'll jump you the moment I come back."

This made Midvalley's eyes widen, emitting a low whistle.

"Damnit, I think I love you now."

The two laughed hard about that one, slinking arms around their shoulders, and
engaging in a lingering kiss.

They had no idea that was the last time they would be together.

* * *

The Player sat at a table outside of the bar. Staring deep into the amber 
liquid of his barely touched drink.

'Today I fight him. Today I fight Vash the Stampede. Today I'm going to die.'

He had no doubts in his mind that he wouldn't win against the Humanoid Typhoon,
and it wasn't Vash who was going to make him lose. He just didn't want to 
live anymore.

'You took him from me. Okay, so maybe we would've never lived a normal life.
We would've never had the white picket fence, but what we had was more
then I had ever felt in my entire life.'

He tilted back his head, and downed the glass in one pained swallow. Reaching
down to his side, he picked up the golden instrument next to him.

'Is it my punishment from God? My punishment for killing so many? Was
I destined to be miserable my entire life? Oh God, Nicholas, why did you 
betray us? Why did you die for him? What did he do to you? Why didn't
you come back to me?'

Turning, he caught a glimpse of the red-coated figure. He closed his eyes
slowly. 

'I'm never going to see you or Sylvia again. Even if there is a Heaven, I'm
not going to make it there.'

It took everything he had to fight back at the emotion that began to eat
away at him. He concentrated, and controlled them. He was so used to doing
this.

'My only prayer is that I cause this man misery to last eternity, because
that's exactly what he did to me when he took you from me. I miss you, 
Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Maybe my death will have some meaning in this living
Hell, because you were the best thing about me.'

Stepping from the porch, he smirked dramatically and faced off to the 
blonde haired man, who was carrying Nicholas' cross. Midvalley paused to 
look at it.

'Forgive me Sylvia. Forgive me Nicholas. I wish I could've saved you
both.'

For the second time of his life, Midvalley the Hornfreak failed.

~ The End

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ending Authour's note: Shoot me, kill me, I'm crying so hard again. Why
do I write the most depressing stuff when it comes to Trigun? Don't ask
me, you guys seem to love it, and I don't mind writing it. This seemed
to make perfect sense, because Anime-Midvalley didn't have as much strength
as Manga-Midvalley. Anime-Midvalley was more loyal to the Gung Ho Guns, 
and after Nicholas died he committed suicide. I'm saying THIS is the 
reason he did it, not just because of the Gung Ho Gun oath. I seriously
believe the man had nothing in his life that he didn't regret. Poor
Midvalley. I love him so much, I wish I could write a happy ending for him.
Unfortunately he didn't get one in either the manga or the anime. What
a raw deal.