I just have to ask you for a few characters 👉👈 Porter Gage, Hancock, Raul, Charon and Gob ack don't call me out for my ghoul loving ass just getting showered in praise. I just feel the ghouls don't GET enough lovin', they are all wonderful, handsome and great men.
Porter Gage is the odd one out because I just love that raider man and been playing Nuka World recently-
Select FO Companions React to Sole/Lone/Six Giving them Praise
I'm back!! Oof, so I've officially finished moving and unpacking and all that junk, and I'm ready to get back to the important things lol. Alrighty, so just an update, I've decided to just get back to regular posting. I only had a few more for the 1k event to do, but I knew it would take another few days to get to if they were going to be any good 😅 So, I apologize if I didn't get to yours, but I'm SO thankful for all of you who participated, it was such a blast, and I hope to do more events like it in the future 😊
Anyways, now, let's get back to it! (Also, just one more reminder that requests are closed for the time being so I can catch up on the ones I have now, but I will let you know when they open back up!)
ALRIGHT, so now to the actual post. This is so sweet, omg! 😩 These guys all really do deserve more loving, like... Always. As usual, let me know if you wanna see anyone else for this at all! Cuz goodness knows there are plenty of Fallout folks that deserve to hear a compliment or two much more often.
Included Below: Charon, Gage, Gob, Hancock, Joshua, & Raul
Also, just a heads up, this isn't explicit, per say, but it does get kinda steamy in some places, so just a little NSFW warning for ya. 😉
I hope you enjoy!
Charon:
“Oh my god.” Lone’s mouth hung open as Charon stepped down the stairs and towards the living room.
“What?” He paused his movement, brow scrunching more than usual as he looked down over himself to see if anything was amiss.
They only shook their head at first, finally managing to close their mouth to gulp before they began to answer him verbally.
“Look, I know you just, like, just put on the armor and everything, but Charon, I think… I think you’re gonna have to take it off.”
Lone’s eyes drifted hungirly over the ghoul’s large frame, the way the dark, freshly polished leather clung to his muscular form forcing a blushing heat to flush over their face.
He only scoffed at them, continuing his descent into the room to drop his bag by the door. Lone stood up abruptly from their place on the couch and turned to face their partner with a hard expression on their face.
“What? I’m not allowed to be attracted to my boyfriend?” Their hands came to their hips as their voice took on a distinct hardness that he was always trying to avoid.
That’s never a good sign. Charon thought with a frown.
“No need to act for my benefit.” He grumbled, “I’ve seen myself, Lone.”
He tried not to notice the way his partner flinched at his words.
They can’t be serious, what delusions do they think I’m under?
“Clearly not the way I have, then.” They said firmly as they took a step closer. Charon stood his ground as Lone approached him with slow intent, something unknown to him written in their expression.
“Forget what I said,” they continued, “No need to take off your armor.” He set his jaw as they gazed up at him, their hands brushing up over the leather on his chest until their fingertips grazed the skin of his neck.
“I’ll just do it for you.” They began to work at the fastenings of his armor, the metal buckles glinting in the low light that streamed through the meager windows of their Megaton house.
“Lone…”
“I want to show you. If you won’t listen to what I say, maybe what I do will have some influence on you.” Charon made no move to assist them as they began to pull the leather cuirass over his head, undoing the laces at his sides before reaching up as far as their arms would take them, the collar of the armor failing to come any further up than his jawline as they strained on their tiptoes. The ghoul sighed, ducking down to allow them to finally wrench the leather free of his bulky frame.
They set the piece on the couch with a huff, and despite his reservations, Charon took a few steps closer to them, his icy stare boring into his partner as they turned and knelt alluringly before him, their hands grazing up over his thighs as they moved to his center.
“Do you want this?” Lone brought their gaze up to him, fixing their partner with hooded eyes darkened with their lust for him, as their fingers rested delicately over his leather codpiece. Charon hardly had to think before responding hastily.
“Yes." He growled, "Show me.”
A relieved smile touched their lips, and they quickly turned their attention back to their work below his waist.
The ghoul's chest shuddered with anticipation as he felt the pressure release around his hips, fighting to hold back a groan as Lone meticulously removed each piece of polished leather he’d fastened onto himself not half an hour ago. When he was freed of his armor fully, standing before his partner in loose-fitting trousers and a black crew neck, Lone looked him over quickly from head to toe before descending upon him, delicate fingers moving hastily to pull his shirt from his sculpted torso.
This time, Charon did assist, lifting his arms and practically ripping the thing at the seams as he brought it over his head. Despite both of their haste, once he was free of the shirt, Lone paused, the palms of their hands warm against his chest where they rested with their fingers splayed, grasping slightly at the taut skin there. Their hands rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing, noticeably faster than usual, as his anticipation grew.
“You’re so handsome…” They let slip. It wasn’t more than a whisper, and Charon wasn’t sure whether they’d meant to say it aloud at all, but it escaped them nonetheless, as their transfixed stare grazed over his semi-bare form.
Whether they meant to voice the compliment or not, their words took Charon out of the moment, his smoky gaze sharpening within the confines of his narrowed eyes. He even let out another snort of disbelief that managed to catch Lone’s attention and draw their gaze to meet his own.
“Sorry, I just… I do mean it though. Not everyone may feel similarly, including yourself, and I don’t know that I can ever really change that, but Charon… I see you that way. The way you can’t seem to.”
Lone’s voice became desperate as their gaze fell to capture the movement of their fingers fidgeting over his skin, the digits absent-mindedly tracing over the rough grooves upon his ravaged chest with absolute care.
“It’s no lie, either." They whispered, "Not me trying to convince you otherwise, or make you feel better– well, if it makes you feel good, that’s good, and I want that, but that’s not the only thing I’m trying to do by saying– or, by complimenting you, I want you to–”
“Lone.”
One of Charon’s large hands closed around his partner’s shoulder, forcing their restless hands to cease their frenzied rubbing over him, and silencing Lone’s fragmented explanations.
Their eyes met his once more, glistening orbs of earnestness and desperation against cold, dark windows reflecting back their own form of desperation in turn.
Enough. He meant to say, but the vault dweller’s stubbornness in this matter left him no room to voice his concerns with their speech.
“Charon.” They said firmly, “Please don’t. Don’t shut out what I’m telling you. Even if you can never believe what I say for yourself, know that I believe it. I’m mad for you. All of you.”
Their voice lowered an octave at their final confession, and Lone surged forward, their hands grasping forcefully at his shoulders, and pulling his lips to theirs as they tasted him in earnest. Charon meant to say their name again, but all that escaped him was a groan as they crashed against him, the firmness of their insistent pressure a stark contrast from the pillowy softness of their lips.
They pulled away breathlessly before quickly moving their lips lower, the smooth petals of their mouth tickling against the sensitive skin of his neck, his collarbone, and chest.
“I’m mad for this.” They growled between fevered pecks, “And this, and here. All of it.”
Like the volts of a live wire, violent shudders shocked the ghoul’s spine as Lone’s lips and tongue delved lower, hastily passing over his ribcage, their nose tracing a teasing line down his center as they knelt down and settled their attentions just at his naval, hungry fingers finally releasing the pressure exerted on him by his own damned zipper, and the painfully tight fabric of his briefs.
“I’ll show you, my love. I’ll convince you to see yourself like I do. Whatever it takes.” They promised, and Charon’s neck arched as his head hung back in sheer bliss at their next heated action.
“Show me.” He groaned.
Gage:
“Will you cut that shit out? S’not funny, boss.”
“No, Gage. I really do. I know it’s not funny, I’m not fucking joking." Their eyes bore into his as they tilted their head towards him, their voice as desperate as it was irate, "I honestly don’t care about that patch, or how old you are, how bad you think you are, any of it. You’re good for me. You’re incredible. You're strong, and dependable, you make me smile and laugh, and–”
“Yeah, alright, I think you’ve had enough of that.”
One rough hand reached out to grab at the bottle in Sole’s hand, but they snatched it away before he could pull it from their grasp.
“Quit it, Gage! I’m your Overboss, and that’s an order. Now let me finish.”
Gage huffed and rolled his good eye, folding his arms over themselves gruffly as he leaned back against the worn couch cushions. Sole only shook their head, setting their bottle down on the side table and scooting closer to the raider. They placed a hand on his thigh and fixed him with an uncanny sort of look, depleted of their frustration with him, and full of something else entirely. Their muted smile and the gleam in their eyes made for an expression he’d only ever seen reserved for family members, for the closest of friends, or for… for lovers. His own eye narrowed suspiciously.
I know we’re together ‘n all, but… When has anyone looked at me that way before?
Whatever, must be whatever’s in that drink of theirs.
“Well, get on with it then, since you made such a fuckin’ fuss.” He growled. Sole only broadened their smile softly, their one hand increasing its pressure on his leg as they scooched even closer to him. Gage felt the heat of their body through the thin fabric of his trousers and wife-beater as they pressed closer to him, their free hand sliding up the swell of his chest to rest heavily on his shoulder as their lips met his in a brief kiss.
Gage only had an instant to close his eye, to savor them, before they withdrew, just far enough that the pair's contact was severed, but close enough still, that he could make out the distinct and enticing glisten of their lips.
“You really don’t see it, do you?”
“What’s that?” He breathed.
“How much I care about you. How good you are for me. How attractive I find you. Even when I try to tell you.”
Sole’s hand moved downward to brush over his chest, feeling the play of muscle beneath his thin shirt as he threw his head back in a barely contained scoff.
“Yeah, alright there, Sole. Look, don’t feel like you’ve gotta say all this shit for my benefit. I’m a damn raider, I don’t need t’hear all that flowery, romantic sorta bullshit. I’m a sure thing, boss. I’m easy.”
As if to emphasize his point, one hand moved lower to grasp around the swell of Sole's hip firmly, pulling them closer, even as their expression hardened.
“You shouldn’t be.” They said firmly, their hand stilling over him.
Gage’s brow creased low over his eye as Sole pulled away from him roughly.
“You deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit for," they continued, "I don’t care what you think. You gave me a chance when no one else would. You've always got my back, you support me like nobody else has, and dammit, you deserve that same kind of dedication, Gage.”
His eye widened at their words, and the raider found himself at a loss for any kind of response.
I’m really not used to this kinda shit. What am I supposed to say to that?
Sole sighed at him, a sad smile touching their lips as they hesitantly reached both hands up to his face. Gage had to stop himself from flinching at their tender touch, but they held fast, palms warm against his cheeks as their eyes pleaded with him to just fucking believe what they told him.
Gage swallowed.
Slowly, their hands moved, and their fingers worked their way to the metal secured to his head, fidgeting with the fastenings there until he felt the entire piece loosen and give way.
“Sole, I don’t think–” He tried, but they silenced him with a look and a whisper.
“It’s okay. I want to see you.”
Gage took in a breath.
No. You don’t.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
He shook his head slightly, and Sole finally pulled the patch from his skin, and set it on the couch beside them. Gage’s jaw clenched as he flinched away, and his gaze flitted to everywhere but Sole, unnervingly afraid to see the repulsion on their face.
He felt their hands on him again, the soft skin caressing his cheeks, and he fought the urge to pull away as his heart increased its thumping in his chest. Gage closed his good eye, trying to turn his marred face away from his partner’s scrutinizing gaze, but their hands held his head firmly in place.
A brief moment of silence passed before Gage found himself jerking away involuntarily as the feeling of Sole’s… lips? He guessed, ghosted over the scarred flesh of his newly uncovered cheekbone.
“I meant what I said.” Their warm breath caressed his face as they spoke. “It’s not bullshit, and it’s not a lie.”
He released a sigh as he opened his good eye once again, the resistance and disbelief effectively gone from his exposed expression, if only just for this moment.
“I really do, Gage. I love you. And I love all of you.”
Gob:
“What do you mean?”
Gob paused, Lone’s voice clearly meeting his ears as he stepped outside the back door of Moriarty’s Saloon with two heavy trash bags in hand.
“Look hon, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I’m just curious, that’s all.” The scent of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume drifted through the ghoul’s meager nose, even from where he stood behind the building, he knew it was Nova that Lone was speaking with.
Something in his head told him he should go out to greet them, but a gut feeling held him back, keeping him in place as he slowly set down the garbage bags and continued to listen in.
“It’s just that, well, Gob an’ me have been real close for a long time,” Nova’s silky voice continued, “An’ I’ve met lotsa folks you couldn't believe. Look at him like he’s some kinda novelty or somethin’, like the scumbags who look at me like a juicy slice of brahmin. I just wanna be sure you ain’t one of ‘em.”
The ghoul’s eyes widened as he listened in, his grip tightening on the metal jutting from the side of the building as he awaited Lone’s response.
Do I even really wanna hear it? A small voice asked in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away, instead leaning forward to hear what his partner had to say.
“You really think I could be like that?” Panic tightened their voice as it left their throat, less accusatory, and more fraught with worry than he would’ve expected. “Gob doesn’t think that way, does he?”
“No.” He whispered, shaking his head despite the fact that he was as good as alone on this side of the saloon.
“Nah, I don’t think so. Gob would never see the bad in you. That’s what he’s gotta have me for. Too many people try to take advantage of the poor guy. Like he hasn’t been through enough.”
He smiled sadly at that, silently thanking whoever it was in charge of his fate that he met Nova. Without her, well… Moriarty’s would’ve been all the more unbearable. He's not sure he would've made it this far without her, and now, if he didn't have Lone, if he somehow lost them...
Don't wanna even think about that. Maybe I should stop listenin' in, in case... What if they--
“I know.” Lone said, almost too quiet for him to hear, but loud enough to pull him from his troubling thoughts, “It’s true. Everything Gob’s been through… That’s one of the things that drew me to him from the start. All that Moriarty’s done to be cruel, to make his life hell, and he’s still so kind, so sweet and genuine.”
“Hm.” He heard his friend hum with approval at Lone’s declaration, and something tightened deep in Gob’s chest.
He held his breath as his partner's voice carried on.
“And so incredibly strong, to persevere through all of this, all that he’s been through for his long life, with Underworld, leaving it all behind and then coming to this, only to end up here. Still, selfish as it is, I'm glad he is here now. If I hadn't met him, I don't..."
Gob heard them chuckle, more a nervous sound then an amused one.
"I really don't want to think what it'd be like if I didn't have him, y'know? He really is incredible. One-of-a-kind out here, and in the vault. I’ve never met anyone like him.”
“You’re smiling real big when you talk about him, you know that?”
Gob grinned himself as he heard Lone’s giggle echo down into the town, the lovely sound fading with a sigh from them and a moment of silence that had Gob leaning in even further, very nearly exposing his hiding spot to the pair as his anticipation grew.
“... Well, what can I say? I love him.”
Gob's breath caught in his throat, and he tried desperately to keep from choking as his grip on the side of the building tightened painfully, his bony fingers digging into the metal with such force, he was liable to bend it.
Nova whistled long and low at that, the butt of her cigarette flying off the balcony as she turned to face Lone, and Gob shifted hastily back against the building once more, hoping he was still concealed.
“That’s quite the declaration there, hon. You tell him that?”
“Well, no, not quite… But I plan to, and soon, I think.”
“Hm. Just be careful. Dangerous thing to tell a man.” The door to the saloon creaked open as the sound of Nova’s voice shifted, “Though actually, since it’s Gob, I take it back. Lord knows he needs to hear that more than most. And from you? Poor guy won’t know what to do with himself.”
Lone laughed again, more genuine this time, less embarrassed, and Gob’s heart thudded hard against his ribcage, a feeling of chills erupting over his ruined skin as he tried in vain to keep his labored breathing quiet.
The door to the bar slammed to a close, jolting the wall Gob was still leaning against.
But he hardly even felt it.
They love me? Love?! H-how.. How can they? Why?
How could he possibly pretend he didn’t know what they’d said when he saw them next? Even now, he found it impossible to contain himself, his entire body vibrating with a giddy energy he didn’t even know he was capable of possessing.
Lone loves me.
Gob stood shakily from where he was kneeling beside the saloon, his mind going into overdrive as he realized Nova, and soon enough, Lone, would notice his absence in the bar. He turned back to the garbage bags, reaching for one as he took a step forward, but his foot caught on the first step up to the back door, and he fell forward, cringing less at the pain and more at the loud clang that rang out over the town as the better part of his body crashed into the metal building.
“Aw, dammit.” He grumbled, glancing over his shoulder rapidly in search of Lone.
The ghoul held still a moment, sighing in relief when he didn’t hear a sound beyond his own breathing. He stood up and brushed himself off brusquely.
Still need to get in there quick.
“Gob? What are you– Oh, are you okay?”
The ghoul’s blood ran cold.
“F-fine, Lone, I just– um…” He stuttered out as he turned to face them with a nervous smile.
Dammit, I was right.
The ghoul’s mouth refused to cooperate as his thoughts scattered in every direction at the sight of his partner.
Of the one who loved him.
He gulped.
“You didn’t hit your head, did you?” They asked, reaching a hand out as if to brush it over his head, but he shook his head firmly, stalling their movement.
“You look so… So red… Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He nodded to them, willing his body to cool down, willing his tongue to untangle, willing himself to meet their eyes, but he simply couldn’t.
“A-are you blushing? Sweetie, I didn’t know you could blush. What’s going on?”
Finally their hand met his face, and the world seemed to quit its confusing spinning, his heart stilled its frantic pounding, and he could finally meet their concerned gaze. His eyes were apologetic as he looked at them, swallowing hard as a few fragmented words began to creep into his mind.
“O-oh. Oh no.” Lone’s eyes widened, and Gob didn’t have to say a word. “No, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t… You heard it?! How much did you hear?”
They pulled their hand away from him, their voice desperate and loud as they questioned him with panic etched all over their face.
Gob tried to stay calm, his skin feeling warmer than coals as the words of explanation formed on his tongue.
What if that does it? What if this is it? What if I just ruined this?
“Not, well, I don’t think, I just–” He stuttered out awkwardly, willing his voice not to crack with the fear he felt bubbling up in his chest, “Well, I don’t think that I heard all of it, but… Yeah, I did, ah, I heard that last part.” Gob’s head hung low at the end of his confession, as he saw the disappointment in Lone’s eyes.
Had they ever really planned on telling me? Were they just saying that to Nova, to make her feel better? Did they really even mean it?
“I’m so sorry, Lone.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” They told him gently, and he raised his eyes hesitantly to meet theirs.
“I just… I wish I could’ve told you in a different way. Made it really special.”
“It was. Lone, honey, it was special.” He said quickly, both of his hands reaching out to grasp one of Lone’s, before he even realized he was doing it.
“It means the world to me. Nobody’s ever- I mean, I haven’t ever- I just…” Their eyes shone as they waited for him to finish, and Gob took a deep breath.
“Lone,” He whispered, “I feel the same way.”
Hancock:
“Your eyes, John…”
“Hm?”
“Your eyes… They are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Hancock smiled as his partner looked on, reverent in the haze of the Day Tripper they’d taken. They leaned forward from where they were seated, practically in his lap, with one hand against his chest, and fixed him with their appreciative, half-lidded gaze.
“My eyes are black, Sunshine.” He pecked their nose with his meager lips, taking full advantage of their close proximity to him. “And not kill the vibe or anything, but I think you’ve had enough of these for today.” His hand gently pulled the Day Tripper bottle away from their grasp, but his partner hardly seemed to notice.
“They are not ‘black’ in that dismissive way you just said they are." They pouted, "Your eyes… They don’t have color, really, but they have depth. Texture.”
“Uh huh.” Hancock tried to withhold the broad, toothy grin that threatened to spread across his lips as Sole looked at him in complete seriousness.
Damn, they’re cute.
He raised a hand to the side of their face, caressing it lovingly as one thumb stroked over the soft swell of their cheek.
But should I really have let them take two of those pills? Hm.
“They’re like space." Sole continued, one hand waving dramatically towards the sky at their declaration.
"Like galaxies and nebulae and a trillion twinkling stars. All wrapped up in a velvety, dark blanket. Not black, but like an inky fabric draping over itself, light catching at each fold, every angle. Full of life, and light, and emotion, and truth.”
“Sunshine, I don’t think–”
“Shhh.” They brought a finger to his ruined lips, nose nearly grazing the crevice where his once was as they leaned forward with a whisper. “Don’t interrupt, love.” Their lips followed the lead of their finger, brushing his in a light kiss before they pulled back again.
“I’m not nearly finished.”
Hancock’s apparently mesmerizing eyes widened as they fixed him with a scrutinizing gaze, blown-out pupils sliding their hazy vision over every line of his face, every wrinkle and fold, each scar, and all the complexities of his multi-colored complexion.
Though, as Hancock was much unused to, there was no judgment in their scrutiny. No disgust, no flinching or cringing, not even some morbid kinda curiosity he tended to see in some.
His face couldn’t be chalked up to mere flesh and blood in their eyes. They didn’t see the lines as he did. It was less of a physical entity, and more a mosaic of his person. His character.
In everything, Sole saw the way he had smiled all his life, the way he had frowned, all the speeches he’s given, the manner in which he once combed his hair, and in the way he moved differently once it was all gone.
Sole saw his childhood, the closeness with his family, and then the heart-wrenching pain as they were pulled away from him and made estranged. They could see the years of relentless abuse he’d wrought upon himself, before becoming who he was today. In the emotion written in his scars, they could see his failures, and in the glimmer of his eyes, his successes, and they told him as much.
All of it they said, not with so many words, as they formed and flitted away before their lips had a chance to speak them, but they spoke with their eyes, with their own emotion Hancock couldn’t help but read too deeply into. The intensity of it all forced his hand, inspired his mind to draw connections from nearly nothing at all. The dense subtleties and micro expressions any sane person may have failed to read into, but Hancock wasn’t sane.
He was in love.
And they were too. Of that, the ghoul had no doubt at all. He wasn’t even sure if he’d known that before this very moment. Sole had told him before, sure, but never like this. Saying everything without a voice to back it. The most honest of confessions, and he couldn’t help but confess right back.
“Damn, Sole…” He breathed over them, inspiring a blink of those brilliant eyes that broke the tension that had grown between them. “I’m so in love with you.”
To his surprise, his partner looked at him with a flash of disappointment.
“What is it, baby?”
“I haven’t even said anything yet. That was supposed to wait for the end.” They pouted rather dramatically.
“Aww, you didn’t hear all that? Everythin’ you just said? I heard it, loud and clear. No worries there. And no words needed, sunshine, trust me.”
“Hm.” They pursed their lips, unconvinced. “I think I’ve still gotta tell you anyways.”
“Sweetheat, there’s nothin’ I’d love more than to listen to your pretty voice sing praises to me all night long, but all that talk just about my eyes? I don’t think you’ll finish before the sun comes up.”
“If that’s how long it takes for you to quit making all those comments about your ‘ugly mug’ and ‘boring, black’ eyes, then so be it. We’ll be here all night, and into the next day, and all the night after. I’ll keep telling you next week, next month, years from now, when I’m old and wrinkled and a new civilization has risen from the ashes of this ruined world of ours, for this whole lifetime and any others that come along, I'll keep insisting, I’ll keep talking, and kissing, and touching, and loving you until you believe every word with every part of you. And I fucking mean it John Hancock, you know I do.”
Most of this talk was definitely the Day Tripper. Had to be. At least a little bit. Sole didn’t talk like this, didn’t make big confessions like this, didn’t command him to take their praise so adamantly, but still... every word rang true in their glazed-over eyes.
Whether they were foggy from the drug, or from their affection for him, Hancock didn’t completely know, but he did know that the words people spoke on Day Tripper tended to be true. It was one of the main reasons the drug was dangerous. It helps limit your inhibitions, makes confessions come easy, lessens your anxiety, makes the world seem more open and accepting to whatever strange, deep-rooted, or wholly secret confession your heart and mind held onto far away from the liberating threshold of your mouth. It’s why Hancock doesn’t usually do this one with friends, with people he doesn’t want to lose, with people he’s afraid to trust to stay in his life if they knew all the secrets of his past. He’d told Sole all of this, the dangers of these little pills, and yet, they’d still wanted to try it with him by their side.
“I do.” He rasped, the words making him shudder as he thought of what they might sound like in some other context, some other promise, down the line of his and Sole’s journey together.
If I should be so lucky they’d say yes to a promise like that. To a man like me gettin’ down on one knee and making a commitment more serious and binding than being Mayor of Goodneighbor.
Shit, and I would mean it just as much with them as I did with this town of mine. More so, even.
“I know you mean it, Sole. And I’m gonna really hold you to it one of these days.” He hinted with a half smile as he pressed his lips to their cheek and wrapped an arm around their shoulders tightly, until they yielded in their gathering exhaustion, falling back to rest against him, and sighing softly with sheer contentment.
“You’d better." They grumbled, "I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”
“Don’t you worry. You ain’t gonna have to wait too much longer.” They leaned their head against his shoulder, nuzzling into him a few times to get comfortable, and Hancock leaned back, his head resting against theirs as he took their hands in his, his midnight eyes falling to their left hand in particular as his fingers grazed over theirs in a delicate caress, and he daydreamed about the future he'd promised, and they'd promised him.
No. Not much longer at all…
Joshua:
“Joshua?” Your voice carried smoothly over the sand, through the hot, dry air. But Joshua didn’t stir, he didn’t even seem to register his name.
“You okay?” You pressed forward, craning your neck as you took a couple steps in his direction, trying to see what it was in the creek that had caught his attention so fully.
“Did you… find something?” You bent down as you reached Joshua’s side, noting the way his unblinking eyes seemed glued to… nothing. Nothing, but his own reflection, staring back with the same intensity.
The sand shifted beneath you as you settled by Joshua’s side. He noticed you, out of the corner of his eye, but remained silent.
What could he say?
How could he speak all that he was thinking, as he peered down at his scarred and bandaged face? Could he voice the way that he feels? So unworthy of your devotion to him, so confused as to why you stay by his side, so appreciative that you care for him the way you do, but so wholly afraid that if he speaks his fears, that they will come true. That, as soon as you come to your senses, as soon as the novelty of being with him fades, you will leave…
Who could love a face like mine? And more… Who could love the man that this face belongs to? A man who has done so much wrong, that his sins could only be absolved through the most violent forms of suffering? And even still… Am I truly free of them?
He did not feel it.
“I... am not worthy…” The missionary began quietly, and saw your head snap towards him as the words met your ears. “I am not worthy of even the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness you have shown me.”
“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you shifted your body to face him, rather than the stream of water below.
“It’s a line from Genesis." He attempted to clarify, "Jacob is speaking to God, speaking to him of his own humility in response to the devotion that the Lord has shown him.”
Your brows didn’t unfurrow.
“And that… That has to do with…?”
“I’m not…” Joshua’s jaw clenched as his eyes finally left his own watery visage in favor of hiding behind his downed lids.
“I’m not sure why I said it. The quote just… came over me.” He lied, knowing full-well that the words had everything to do with you.
If I tell you that I feel unworthy of you, will that start something? Will that plant the idea in your mind that I don’t deserve you? Will you then act on that idea?
“Hey.”
He felt your touch upon his shoulder as your voice met his ears, it was light, but unyielding as your fingers clenched at the bandages insistently.
“You can talk to me.” You smiled as Joshua’s eyes opened and his gaze landed upon your face, and he wasn’t immune to it. Nor your words, and all that they promised.
Love rejoices with the truth.
“I’m humbled by you, Six. Humbled by the love you show me every day, and I feel… As Jacob did with the love of God. I feel unworthy of you.”
He felt your grip tighten upon his shoulder as sadness flooded your expression. It pained him to know he was the source of the strife he saw in your eyes.
“Sometimes it’s easy to forget who I am, what I’ve done… What I look like, when I’m beside you, but then, my reflection finds me. Then as I look upon your face, as I remember your deeds and your devotion to me, your kindness to others... I cannot help but feel confused.”
“Joshua, I–”
He continued insistently, his scarred brow hardening over the intense blue of his eyes as you saw them spark with fire from within.
“I have erred more times than I could possibly count, and yet, each is written upon me, like a shouted word, etched into my very skin for all the world to see. For all who gaze upon me to pity me and my failures, to hate my deeds and to agree that I am unworthy of compassion and repentance. That I am unworthy of happiness, and certainly, of love. They see you beside me, and they know, simply by seeing me, that I am unworthy of you.”
Joshua’s hand traveled slowly up to grasp at yours. Your eyes were wide and glistening as he gently took hold of you, and removed your touch from him.
The air was utterly caught in your throat as your partner released your hand from his grip and stood beside you, his gaze resting back on the reflection in the running water that marred his covered features even further with each ripple over the small, jagged river stones that weren’t yet smoothed over by the current.
“But it seems that you’ve failed to note this. Whether by choice, or simply because you are too righteous to see such things, you’ve still stood by me, even despite all that I’ve done, and that I am... I had to be sure you know the truth, Six. So that you can make your own decision about me, about our relationship… And you can find the words and inspiration you need to leave me behind, and to move on to better things. To be with someone who deserves you.”
And truth will set you free.
The thought sprung unbidden into Joshua's mind.
I don't feel free.
But perhaps... Perhaps, now, Six can.
Still, you sat in the sand, in shock at everything that had just left your partner, the man you love, and have loved happily for the months you’ve been together.
Where had it all come from?
One moment you’re making camp, waiting for Joshua to collect water, dusting off the fabric of your tent, laying out the bedrolls close enough to later rest in his embrace all through the night, and now he… what? Wants you to leave him?
What changed?
Joshua made a move to step away from you, to leave you kneeling there, alone, beside the river that had apparently inspired these harsh words that encouraged even harsher actions, but you would not stand for it.
You could not.
“I won’t leave you, Joshua.” You got to your feet as he paused his steps, and he tilted his head towards you, to better hear your words. To hear the justification that he was sure would be well-meant, but ultimately, unfounded.
“Why?” He whispered, and you got the sense that he was going to speak more, that he would continue monologuing until he convinced himself further that you do not belong with him, even when you know that, beyond all reason, you do.
“Because Joshua, because..." You took a breath as righteous words filled your mind, "'You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and… I love you.' That quote comes from the book of Isaiah. And it’s God speaking to Jacob, telling him that this is why men are worthy of him, and why, even if they’re not, they’re still deserving of unconditional love, even by one as divine and perfect as God.”
Joshua’s eyes were the ones widening now, and his body turned so that he could face you fully once again.
“Now, I’m not saying that I’m perfect, but… If God can stand to love you, if he can keep you here, after all you’ve been through, if he can promise you life, even after going through what should’ve meant your death tenfold, then can’t I do the same? Can’t I promise you a life with me, can’t I love and accept you for who you are, no matter what anyone else thinks?”
Joshua’s light eyes were glistening as they fixed on the sand below him, and you couldn’t help but step forward to try and draw his attention back to you.
I had to sit through your monologue of self-hatred. Now it’s your turn to listen to all the reasons your words were wrong.
I won’t have you tuning me out.
“After living a life so devoid of it, there’s no one I can think of who’s more worthy of love and compassion than you.”
You placed both hands on either side of his face, gently urging his eyes to meet yours.
“Everything you’ve done, Joshua… You’ve been made to pay for. Just as you said, it’s all written upon your body, but it’s here too.” You dragged one palm down to rest over his chest. It was warm to the touch, even through the layers of his bandages and clothes.
“And here.” The fingers of your other hand brushed over his temple, then his forehead.
“You’ve paid for it enough. With these horrible thoughts, these feelings of unworthiness plaguing you, every mark upon your skin, all the pain you feel every day. Trust me, my love, you've paid for it. Now… I think God and I both just want you to know peace.”
Joshua’s hands rose to delicately collect yours, to pull them down in between your bodies. But he didn’t release them from his grasp this time, only held them there, embracing you as much as he could allow himself as his mind still swirled with turmoil.
“But why?" He asked, "You don’t have to be with me. No one is requiring it of you; and with another, everything would be so much easier. You could be happy… Happier than I can make you.”
“Why you?” You almost laughed at him, it seemed so obvious within the confines of your own mind, the mind that was almost always occupied with thoughts of him only. “I love you, Joshua. I love how you speak to me, how you respect me and want me in your life. I love that I’m able to help you, but you… You’ve helped me more than I think you know.”
“How?” His voice was so desperate for an answer, it was almost demanding.
“Ever since I woke up from that grave… I didn’t really have a purpose. I didn’t know who I was, didn’t have anyone in my life to turn to, I didn’t have a path... but you gave me one. With you, I could help people in ways I never imagined. You were always so sure of your own path, that it inspired me to be sure of it too. To become a part of your path.”
You could feel your hands shaking where he held them between you. Your whole body was trembling with insistence, begging him to take your words to heart.
Everything about this night that the two of you were sharing once pointed to normalcy. Making camp, divvying out duties, feeling the warmth of the fire against the cool desert air, hearing the wind sweep over the dunes of sand; it was like so many other nights spent with one another. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, hadn’t thought you’d be fighting tooth and nail to get your partner to understand how deeply you cared for him, how much you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him, let alone ever consider it without his knowledge. But it was happening, and now this night was so much more important than all those others, because if you fail… It could be the end of all of this. This bliss that you’ve taken for granted.
You’d survived without him for months before you ever met him, you could find happiness without Joshua, you knew that, but… With him, you didn’t have to look for happiness. With him, it surrounded you.
“You have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes,” You said quietly, and even with the linen wraps covering Joshua's visage, you could see the way he softened at your words. “You made me love you more with every word you spoke. I can’t imagine who I’d be now without you, and I don’t want to.”
Your hands tightened within his grasp, and you pulled his body closer to yours as your eyes stayed locked to his mesmerizing gaze.
“Darling… in all my life, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. Believe me.”
You insisted, and then you leaned forward even further, and kissed him.
The thin linen obstructed you a bit, but it didn’t matter. You could feel the heat of him through it, sense the shape of his lips as they moved against yours, as they relented to your touch, and to your words. As he let you love him.
Joshua’s hands released yours, allowing you to press yourself closer to him as you felt his touch upon your hip, and around the nape of your neck. In the same movement, your arms smoothed over his chest to grasp at his shoulders. He took a deep breath in through his nose, as though he’d been devoid of oxygen until you pressed yourself to him, and you felt the warm puff of air pass through his bandages and caress your face as he exhaled. Subtly, you could taste him through the barrier, the sweetness of cactus fruit, and the tartness of the healing powder he mixed into the water he drank. You sighed into him at the familiarity of it all. His touch, his taste, his burning warmth that sometimes felt unnaturally hot. Enough so, even, that it could scar you in return.
And though it never had, Joshua hadn’t ever left any physical blemishes upon your skin from his touch, from his love of you, you were certain that you hadn’t gone completely unmarked by him. Like the words he spoke, like the thoughts and actions he inspired, like the emotions that surrounded him in your mind, his mark was within you. And all of that, all of his influence, his own love for you in return, that you felt was as permanent as any scar left upon his own skin.
“Thank you,” You felt Joshua whisper against you as you parted, but remained pressed to one another. “Thank you, Six, for all that you have given me. I… I still do not feel worthy of it, but, I will do what I can to change that. No matter how long it takes.”
“Mm.” You hummed, a grin touching your lips as you pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes, soaking in the simple feel of him. “And I’ll be right here. Right beside you, all the way.”
You felt the outline of his own smile as Joshua leaned forward, and captured your lips with his once again.
Raul:
Raul ran a roughened hand over the smooth surface of the wood, a half smile plastered to his lips as he sampled his own work. He gave the record player console table a satisfied nod as he overlooked the polished wood and properly set needle. There weren’t too many records left standing after all was said and done with those bombs so long ago, but still, what he and Six could find, they could now enjoy, and quite stylishly, he’d say.
You liked these ones, huh? He remembered his partner asking as they held up a pair of record sleeves in an old run down shop near the strip. Dean Martin and Perez Prado… Oh, Raul knew them alright. Then we’ll have to find a way to listen to it one day, won’t we? You could teach me how to mambo.
Though the thought made Raul chuckle at the time, the idea picked at his brain for days after, and this became his project. When Six told him they’d be gone for a few days, running some mission with Arcade, he’d taken that as his opportunity to finally finish it.
A click of a door lock sounded behind him, and the ghoul turned in time to see his companion enter the room, their face lighting up, first, at the sight of him, and then that of the table and set of tools beside him.
“Hey! It’s so good to see– Oh. Oh my god. Raul, did you… Did you make this?” They stopped briefly beside him to slide a hand over his shoulder, but ultimately, passed him completely as they were taken by the sight of his handiwork.
“Nah, boss.” He fibbed, “Some crows flew by and dropped it right out of the sky outside the casino. Think they were takin’ it to their nest.”
Six looked back at him with scrunched brows, even as they kept one hand glued to the glossy surface of the table.
“But the birds never came back for it. So, I figured it’d be fair game. Thought it looked nicer in here than on the curb, anyway.”
His companion walked forward with a smile, shoving him playfully with one arm.
“What? You think I’m lying? They were big crows, boss. Guess they like music.”
“Yeah, guess so.” They shook their head at him, and Raul couldn’t deny the grin that spread across his face, crinkling his dark eyes and making them shine with mirth.
“It really is gorgeous though, Raul. You’re not just a handyman, you’re a craftsman. An artist. And you never told me.” The ghoul didn’t know really what to say to that, he’d never really thought of himself that way before.
An artist, eh?
“This detail is just incredible.” Six continued to regard the piece of furniture with awe as they lay their head against his shoulder, and grasped one of his hands in theirs.
“It’s just a table, boss.”
“It is not.” They pulled away abruptly, looking him hard in the eye, “It’s a beautiful table. And a record player! Are you kidding me, Raul? This is amazing. You’re amazing.”
Something tightened in the ghoul’s chest at his partner’s insistence, but before he could respond to them properly, they were pulling away, turning back to the table with intent.
“Now, let’s hear how she sounds, shall we?”
Six knelt to inspect the full shelf below the record player, stuffed with the vinyls they had both collected, but never had the chance to play.
“It’s really no big deal.” Raul insisted, still hung up on his partner’s generous praise. “You were gone for a whole week, mi amado, I had time, that’s all.”
Their hand floated by the albums slowly as they inspected the titles, finally pausing when they reached that first one they had found all those months ago, and they pulled it free. Six turned back to him as they slid the record from its sleeve and prepared to play it.
“Even if I had a hundred years I could never make something like this.”
“But I had two hundred. Remember? I've been around a long time.” Six rolled their eyes at that, and though their grin persisted, there was more than just amusement at the root of their expression.
“Whatever, even two hundred, and I could never do something even close to this. You’re incredible.”
“You said that already, boss.”
Before they could drop the needle down onto the record, they turned to face their partner, a prevalent fire blazing in their irises that Raul couldn’t fail to notice, even from the other side of the room.
“Well, I mean it! You are. And not just at this. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Raul."
The ghoul's smile perked up at that, and suddenly he wanted to move, to reach out to his partner and show them his appreciation for their words, but something kept him rooted where he was standing. There was a tightness in his chest that seemed to hold him in place. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him this way, even if it was with so much aggression.
“I’m not your partner because of your handiwork, you know." They stepped towards him as they spoke, only halting when they were at a point where they could wrap their arms up and around his shoulders to meet his gaze properly.
"I’m with you because I love being around you. You make me so happy, I couldn’t imagine not having you in my life. Even just this one week apart made me realize how much I love being with you, even when we just walk beside each other, when we just talk. The things you say…" One hand came up to stroke over Raul's cheek, their thumb running smoothly over his roughened skin.
"You always make me laugh, or blush, and the way you look at me… Don’t you notice when I look at you too?”
“No I… I guess I never did." He stuttered, "I didn’t think…”
I didn’t think anyone could ever look at me the way I look at you.
“I don’t know, amor.” He said, resignation plain on his face as the words left him with a sigh.
“Well, then I guess I need to make it more obvious.” Six smirked, and Raul felt a rush of heat wash over him, even as his partner backed away from him, back to the table. To his surprise, they didn’t reach for the needle of the record player, but for the flat bit of the table beside it.
“So, this part? What’s this for?” They asked as they ran a hand over the smooth wood.
“‘S just the table part." He shrugged, "Could put your drinks on it, or something, no sé.”
Raul rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, feeling as though he just got whiplash.
How can they just say all that? An' then go back to this? To the table? Ay, ellos me vuelven loco.
Six considered the surface further, reaching both hands to press down on it firmly. Raul narrowed his eyes.
“Drinks’r not normally that heavy, Six.”
“I wasn’t thinking about drinks… Why don’t you come here?”
With the way their voice dropped at their request, Six didn’t need to ask him twice. Raul took the few steps forwards as his partner hopped up onto the table, their legs dangling down and feet grazing the floor as they leaned forward.
Raul kept moving towards them, filling the space between their opened legs with his hips as their arms slid over his chest, clasping tightly around the back of his neck.
“Think it’ll hold me?” They whispered with a smile and a raised brow, their firm hold only pulling him closer with the barest hint of pressure.
“Hmm… Depends.” He whispered, as he relented, leaning in close.
“On?”
“On how much we do.” Raul practically growled as he lost himself in his partner’s alluring gaze, their want for him seeping through every brush of their lips against his, the truth in their words of praise evident in the way their hands grazed over the nape of his neck, over his chest, tugging impatiently at the fabric of his jumpsuit; and in their eyes, closed tightly in pleasure and bliss, and opening only to look at him in a way he’s never been looked at before.
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