A Damning Desire
Falloutkinkmeme Submission
Warning: Adult Content
Summary: It wasn't Boone that Manny wanted, it was Carla. And he hated her for it.
Manny Vargas had made a mistake.
He had thought taking a job in Novac with his best friend and closet comrade would be like the NCR all over again. They would have a purpose, a place to live, and people to serve. And perhaps he would find a pretty chit to settle down with and waste away the days.
So when Craig Boone arrived with his wife in tow, Manny felt the world slip from underneath his feet and he wished it would swallow him up whole.
Carla was beautiful. Her dark curls made him want to wrap his fingers through them and tug her close against him and her mouth would twist into an easy smile or a pursing frown that made him want to press his mouth to hers and slip his tongue past her lips. She was entirely out of place in Novac, a product of New Vegas, and far from her home, alone in the wastelands. He should be comforting her as a friend would, as Boone expected him to.
Instead the first time he meets her, he opened his mouth and said something stupid, something that infuriated her, and suddenly she was looking at him as if he was the lowest scum in the Mojave. And rather than apologizing he said something else he probably shouldn't have, and it was not long before Boone was playing mediator, caught between his best friend and his wife.
And Manny did it on purpose. It was the only way to hide the gnawing, damning feeling in his chest whenever he looked at her.
From high up at his lookout position, Manny could not help but stare down at her as she wandered around the outskirts of Novac, her gaze always to the north towards the Strip. In the gift shop when his shift ended and Boone arrived to take his place, they always came in together. When she pulled Boone towards her and kissed him hard on the mouth, Manny pretended to be interested in the gun the Cliff Briscoe had pulled out from behind the counter to show him.
And then like clockwork, Manny would force a smile a moment later when would Boone clap him on the back in greeting. He did not blame Boone. The man had finally found happiness with a woman who could hardly keep her hands off of him. Manny, on the other hand, was left by himself to imagine what it would be like to push her up against the counter and shove himself into her from behind.
And then inevitably, as Boone always asked, he would agree to walk Carla home.
So she would ignore him and he would ignore her, but not really, and they would walk silently all the way back to the hotel. Or almost all the way back because Manny Vargas was not a smart man.
As usual he opened his mouth to make a comment about something or another, usually about her continued persistence on wearing idiotic outfits imported from the Strip. And she reacted as he predicted, as she always did, and he doesn't hear the end of it until they are outside of the hotel and even then, when the color was high in her cheeks and her eyes were flashing dangerously, it was enough to turn Manny rock hard inside his pants.
And after a shouting match that had Ranger Andy intervening, she turned to her room and slammed the door in his face. Manny, as always, ignored the look Andy gave him and walked to his door, banging it just as hard as she did.
Sometimes he thought he could hear her through the walls, singing some nights or simply moving around. She would be wearing that thin, sheer negligee that he saw Boone buy for her when a travelling merchant passed through Novac. It would hardly cover her, and every inch of her breasts would be visible beneath the material.
His cock was in his hand before he could stop himself and he stumbled to the bed. It was all too easy, always too easy, to imagine her on her knees before him and that it was her hand wrapped around him rather than his own, her hot breath ghosting over the tip.
She would start slow, languid kisses and light twists of her wrist. He would bury his hands in her thick hair, pulling at the curls as her mouth surrounded him. Her hand moved to clutch at the base of him as her lips inched along him. Her eyes flicked to him teasingly, waiting for his reaction.
Her tongue would find the head of him again, and she would lick hard enough to make him growl. Her cheeks would hollow and he envisioned her moaning around him, the vibrations travelling straight to his cock in her wet mouth.
He would tug at her hair, pulling her closer until the tip of him would hit the back of her throat. Her nose buried itself in the hair at his pelvis and one hand snuck up to rub against his sack, squeezing so tightly his eyes rolled backwards.
Maybe she would pull back at the last moment and the evidence of his orgasm would spray across her chest. It would cling to her, and slip down the heavy curve of her breast.
It would only be a matter of moments before he would rip her thin dress from her body and crawl over her, nudging her legs apart. His mouth would find her breast, his teeth tugging on her nipple as hard as he could. She would whimper and gasp his name, her arms coming to wrap around his shoulders. He could smell the wetness on her thighs, and he would be inside of her within moments.
It would not be long before she tightened around him, shattering in his arms. He would hold out, his hips slamming into hers with enough force to leave bruises. The thought of marking her as his own made Manny shudder, and he palmed himself faster, his fingers quickly finding the sensitive spot underneath. It would be minutes before he exploded into her, and all the while she would tremble around him, her fingers ripping into his back.
And with a shaking groaning that shamed him, he split onto the bed sheets.
It was not the first time he had does this, and Manny knew it would not be the last.
It was a betrayal. The blackest one he could make.
To covet his best friend's wife was something Manny was sure would place him in the deepest pits of Hell to burn for eternity. A part of him wishes that he had the courage to disappear. To wake one morning and simply take the 188 towards the Strip or back to McCarran. Perhaps the creatures of the Mojave would catch him unaware, sneaking up on him as he made the journey. However, he knows that to be ripped apart by deathclaws would be too kind a punishment.
Because Manny knew that if she ever looked his way, ever decided that it was he who she wanted instead of Boone, there was little he would do to prevent himself from going to her.
His friendship with Boone would mean nothing, their time in the NCR forgotten.
He wanted her. He wanted her more than anything he had ever wanted in his life.
And he hated her for it.