MacCready didn't like the Commonwealth any more than he liked the Capital Wasteland, but at least the former had been home. And if it were anyone else who asked for his help, he would've left a long time ago. But it was River, the pre-war pin-up who had stolen his heart, and even if he didn't owe her everything after what she'd done for him, he still would've followed her to the ends of the earth.
He didn't care where she went, as long as they'd be together. Even if it was Vault 81 for the fifth time that week to work on their faulty reactor again. He suspected the overseer was one of the many souls unlucky in love with their beloved sole survivor, and kept calling her back to spend more time with her. He couldn't really blame her - in her place, he would've done the same thing - but it didn't mean he had to like it.
"Stop scowling," River scolded him, amusement edging her voice. "I know this isn't exactly the adventure I promised, but. . . ."
"You go where you're needed," he said with a shrug. "It's one of the things I love about you."
It was easy to see the lovely flush that dusted her pale cheeks under the over-bright fluorescents. She greeted a vault officer as they passed, taming her expression into the polite, passive mask she adopted when she had to be diplomatic when she really wanted to be catty, and the former was truly a sight to see. He was the only one of her companions insolent enough to talk back to the general of the minutemen; as in, he spoke to her like a friend, not a legend, and though it had often resulted in lots of bickering and arguments, it also tempered a strangely immediate connection. As they got to know each other better, they realized they were similar in too many ways, carried the same ghosts, as it were, and it was the first time either of them had found someone new to put their faith in. Such revelations formed powerful bonds, and she'd ignited in him a flame so ravenous and compelling that he still dreamt of her every night when he slept.
The elevator doors closed behind them and River let out a breath of relief as it slowly started to move. In the dim lighting, he could only just make out the shape of her eyes looking up at him as she pulled him to her by the collar. He caught himself with hands planted on either side of her slim waist, her mouth hungrily claiming his. She swallowed the low rumble of his laughter, nibbled at his bottom lip and she had his full and complete attention.
"Jesus, Riv," he muttered when her mouth hunted down the line of his jaw, seeking the pulse point at the base of his throat. She tasted the skin there, tested it with the blunt edge of her teeth, and shuddered between his arms.
"Sorry," she breathed into the curve of his shoulder, sighing in pleasure when he ran his fingers through the silver strands of her hair. "We just never get any privacy like this."
"No complaints here," he assured her with a masculine heat in his voice that made her melt.
"Let's just finish up this reactor business, and then we'll spend all night in my room," she promised him, low and throaty. She was right, like always, no matter how hard she made him. So he kissed her one last time, rough with desire, and she moaned softly, his favorite sound.
MacCready released all of her but her hand, at least for the rest of the descent. They hadn't ever agreed to keep their relationship discreet, but for now they enjoyed the intimacy of something secret, just for them. It was honestly a shock Piper hadn't sniffed them out by now.
River pressed a hand to her lips, swollen from his kisses. He wanted to shove her up against the wall and take her right here, come deep inside her as the doors opened so all of this godforsaken vault could see them - a reckless fantasy, selfish and possessive, one that did little to alleviate the throbbing length of his cock, straining almost painfully inside of his pants.
It was better to wait, if he could better enjoy her later. Take his time, savor her, please her, make her scream and shudder beneath his hands and mouth. He just had to be patient, admittedly not a strong point of his, but for her, he would do his best.
And then the elevator came to a grinding stop, lights flickering out, and through the darkness they could both hear the fading rumble of power systems shutting down. River's hand clutched at him tighter, and he tightened his fingers reassuringly around hers.
"It's the damn reactor," she hissed. "It must've gone out again."
"Does that mean we're stuck?"
"Oh, God. . . ." Her voice trailed off, fragile and hollow, and he pulled her back into his arms almost instinctively.
"I'm sure they're already workin' on it," he told her steadily. "It never goes out for long."
"I guess," she allowed quietly.
"Besides, this is probably the safest you've been since you walked out of one-eleven."
She snorted, clearly not wanting to let him comfort her, but he knew her well enough to manage it anyways. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see the troubled crease between her delicate brows, her disapproving frown, and he soothed it from her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.
"Nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm here."
She buried her face in his shoulder, and he felt the warm curl of her breath through his sleeve. "Thank you," she breathed. "You're right."
"'Course I'm right."
She tried to muffle her laughter in his coat, but he heard it anyways. "God, how long do you think we'll be down here?"
"Considering these idiots can't keep their reactor running for even a week. . . ."
"Christ."
"You're tellin' me. And now you got me all worked up. I can't wait all night to have you."
"Oh?" The sound was short, but heated and curious and so damn naughty. "Tell me."
"You drive me crazy," he confessed immediately, heavy with fervor, because he could keep nothing from her. She gasped when he sank his teeth into the sensitive curve of her throat. "I can't stop thinking about you."
"Mmmn." She was moving against him, shifting her weight, and he realized she was rubbing her legs together for friction. He steadied her hips with his hands, keeping her still despite the groan that wrenched from her throat.
"I can't stand it when you leave me behind," he told her roughly, and the selfish nature of his admission made it feel all the more sinful. "I hate watching you leave with anyone else."
Finally he caught her mouth again, and he kissed her with teeth and tongue, too ravenous for finesse or subtlety. He was already pulling down the zipper of her vault suit, exposing the silky porcelain of her skin, worshipping each inch of her he freed with his hands.
"I'm all yours," she whispered under his kiss and he groaned, taking what she offered, filling his hands with the curves he would worship until the day he died. His mouth trailed down over her collarbone to the valley between her breasts, where his lips met the cotton of a tattered, ancient bra. He caught it between his teeth and yanked it impatiently out of the way, freeing the rosy peaks of her nipples. His tongue curled around one, then the other, sweet friction too brief that made her whine. She ran her fingers absently through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and sending chills down his spine.
"RJ," she breathed, and he loved to hear her say his name, especially when it came out between her swollen lips like an oath, like a prayer. She pushed his duster from his shoulders, urging him out of his clothes. Her fingers admired lean, sinewy muscle, hard beneath her touch.
MacCready couldn't boast the most seasoned of sexual histories, something he made up for in appetite, and he was grateful River was always so blessedly reactive, like part of her was still frozen and only the heat of his touch could thaw her out. She melted like wax beneath the scrape of his teeth, each heated kiss, his fingers trailing down her stomach toward the junction of her thighs.
"Please," she whispered, soft as smoke, voicing the lunacy that danced like sparks in her eyes, the way her hands clutched at his shirt, trying to pull him even closer. Through the various layers of their clothing, he could still feel the heat of her against his thigh. He wished they could stay here forever, locked away from the rest of the world, its evils and greed, sorrows and tragedies that meant nothing when it was just the two of them, her sweet voice released in lilting moans like beats of his pulse.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised her, and she shivered in reaction to the husk of his voice. His hands eased her jumpsuit down her shoulders and arms, until the top half hung from her hips. She worked clumsily at the buttons of the shirt she'd picked out for him, tearing it when she grew impatient, and he couldn't have cared less; she was the one who liked it on him so damn much anyways. A breathy moan caught in her throat when her hands found his bare chest, a real homerun for the old ego, and then her teeth latched onto his collarbone. The woman suffered a horrible oral fixation, had to have her mouth on him nearly constantly, and he'd been forced many times to awkwardly explain away the angry welts she left behind. But he couldn't complain because it felt so fucking good, the press of her teeth, her wandering tongue, and they were the scars of earth-shattering pleasure. They marked him as hers, and it was nice to have some physical representation of the truth that had become his entire reality: that he loved her, fully and wholly, even after the darkness he'd been convinced had broken him forever.
River suddenly cradled the stiff length of his erection, trapped under the stifling hold of his pants. He caught the groan behind his teeth, but her thumb traced circles around the head of his cock until he couldn't hold back anymore and he stifled an agonized, trembling sound into the crook of her neck. It echoed loudly in the elevator around them, and she rewarded him with a slow, languid kiss.
MacCready yanked her vault suit down over her hips, pushed it and her panties thoughtlessly to the floor. She wriggled out of her bra, watching with appreciative eyes as he eased his pants down his hips. And when the aching hardness of his cock sprang free, she made a pitiful, feminine sound of approval that made him somehow even harder.
He couldn't keep his hands off of her any longer. He hooked one of her legs over his elbow, bracing his hand against the wall behind her, while the fingers of his other hand brushed her weeping sex, warm and silken with her desire. "Jesus, you're wet," he grunted, almost dizzy with want as he ground his palm against her swollen clit.
River gnawed helplessly on the knuckle of an index finger, her hips jerking erratically in response to his touch. "Don't," she whined, wrapping her fingers longingly around his cock. "I can't wait any more."
What could he refuse her? He angled the leg slung over his arm even higher, guiding himself to the soft heat of her entrance. He captured her lips in a savage kiss, and his tongue swept into her mouth at the same moment that he slid into her, swift and so, so sweet. They both let out mingled groans of relief, his head dropping down against her shoulder. Every time he entered her, he was shocked by how amazing she felt, so tight and warm and perfect. He briefly registered her teeth on his throat as he began to move, hips taking up an unrelenting rhythm.
"Yes, oh fuck, yes," she gasped, her fingers worrying the bundle of nerves above her slick folds, her tight center clamping down on him in response. The sensations layered and intensified like overlapping frequencies of static, and her body was the closest thing to heaven on earth when she came undone with a high, piercing wail. He toyed with one taut, pink nipple as she convulsed between him and the elevator wall, cunt squeezing him like a vice.
River came back down gasping for breath, flushed and limp in his hold. She giggled under his hungry gaze, quite taken with the look on his face, like he was a blind man seeing sunlight for the first time. It felt so damn good to be the center of someone's universe when she was always surrounded by so much despair, and she didn't know how to thank him for making her whole again.
"I love you," she sighed in a lull between thrusts, and the tenderness of his embrace as he drove into her again ripped a sob from her throat.
One of his hands caught her face, angled it so her eyes were locked on his. "Again," he rumbled, slowing the frenzied pace of his hips to a languid, churning grind. His mouth when it found hers again was tender and plaintive. "Please."
"I love you," she promised once more, the last word breaking apart into a long, frantic cry.
Words he'd never expected to hear again washed like a salve over wounds that had only just begun to heal over, and she soothed all his aches better than any stimpak. She threw her head back, platinum hair striking in the darkness, and he tasted the tang of sweat when he closed his teeth around her pulse point, felt it hammering beneath his tongue. Her nails clawed at his shoulders, struggling for purchase as she rolled her hips to meet every push of his. He was deceptively lean in body for the broad, thick cock that filled her so sweetly, in waves of relentless, disabling pleasure.
River pushed weakly at his shoulders, sighing when he slipped out of her. Her leg and hip ached from being pinned up over his arm, muscles burning in protest, but she couldn't stand the thought of not having him in her for any longer than was necessary. She turned on the spot, kicking fitfully out of her vault suit, shivering when his mouth ran hot like coals over her shoulder blades.
She splayed her hands out against the cold elevator wall and pushed back against him, his hard length resting heavily in the dip of her ass. Dense as he knew he could be sometimes, there was really no misinterpreting an invitation like that. His hands caught her hips, and she loved how big they felt on her, rough and calloused and masculine. She closed her eyes, biting down too hard on her lip as she felt him prodding between her thighs. There was only a brief moment of alignment before she was stretching around him again, breath unloading from her lungs in a heavy grunt.
"Ah, God," she keened, beating a fist against the wall when he took up his earlier pace, hips snapping out an eager, determined tempo, a study of lucidity and pleasure, and she hoped frantically that he'd be able to catch her if the latter won out and she fainted. "God, you're so good."
MacCready's head fell back, a hiss escaping his clenched teeth. "Fu-u-uck," he groaned, drawn out and wavering with each time he drove into her tight heat, and knowing she had broken his self-control, if only for a moment, made lashes of heat unleash like a tesla coil in her feverish body. One of his hands scraped stinging trails down the curve of her back, piercing the heavy fog of pleasure with pinpricks of pain like fireworks lighting up a night sky.
He slipped his other hand around her hip, seeking where she needed him the most, and her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers found her oversensitive clit. "No," she cooed disjointedly, shaking her head back and forth. "Th-that's not fair."
"You can stop me if you want." His voice was rough with lust at her ear, arrogance like laughter around the words he didn't need to say: But you won't.
And damn him, he was so right. She could do nothing but let out soft, whimpering moans, helpless against the almost electric current of his touch. So many times she had admired his hands, sure and steady around his rifle, and those fingers were just as deft now as they stroked her purposefully toward release. Her previously somewhat inexperienced lover had learned her body's secrets with uncanny ease, something he loved to remind her of when he had the chance.
"You're gonna make me come," she panted, glancing over her shoulder at him with accusatory eyes.
MacCready smirked as he met her gaze, a crooked flash of teeth only slightly marred by his heavy breathing. "I know," he said with gruff anticipation. "I can't wait to see it."
"Ha-ah." Her laughter melted halfway out into another hoarse groan, and he wished he could make a holotape of all the sinful little noises she made. He could already feel the encroaching rush of orgasm making his hips flex, his fingers clumsy, and he tried to keep it at bay, but her walls started to grip him tighter as she tipped over into her own release and he knew it was a losing battle. At the sound of her unbridled scream, he pushed deep into her clenching cunt and came with a savage groan. Her muscles were still pulsing, working the last jets of cum from his seizing cock. His blood pounded deafeningly in his ears, punctuated by her fading moans that rose and fell like waves. He waited out the aftershocks, muscles tensing and releasing in quick succession, and then sank heavily back against the opposite wall.
River slid down the wall and landed in a ball of trembling limbs on the ground. She was barely visible through the darkness, but he could still hear the sound of her labored breathing. He struggled to catch his breath in the suddenly stifling elevator.
"God, RJ," she groaned up at him, loving and faint. "You are exactly what I always needed."
"Aw, come on," he teased, lazily drawing his pants back up his legs. "You're gonna make me blush."
"If you're not too embarrassed to fuck me in an elevator, I think you can take the compliment."
MacCready folded himself onto the ground beside her, watching her try to pull herself back together with some amusement. Her hands were shaky as she tried to pull a tattered sock on, and she looked up at him in surprise when he caught her slim foot in his hands. He pressed a brief kiss to her smooth calf before sliding the sock easily up to her ankle. In this tender, unhurried fashion, he helped her put her suit back on, and it was almost as fun as it had been tearing it off of her. Her fingers gracefully refastened the buttons of his shirt, though it still hung crooked from the ones she'd popped out, and she laughed as she stroked the bits of skin that peeked out through the gaps.
River shifted into the crook of his arm, eyes watering as she held back a yawn. She raked her nails through his hair and savored his grateful sigh in response. "We may've been a little on the loud side. . . ." she mused, though it was clear from her tone she wasn't too worried about modesty.
He chuckled, the husky sound that she loved. "Don't know what karma I cashed, but I definitely don't deserve someone as good as you."
"RJ." His name came out hard around the edges, creeping toward a reprimand, and it concerned him a little how much her stern voice turned him on.
"I know you don't think so," he continued quickly, derailing a conversation they'd had too many times before. "I'm just . . . really grateful. You're more than a guy like me could ever ask for."
River was quiet for a long time, resting her head against his chest, just listening to his heartbeat. After a while, he was half convinced she'd fallen asleep until she kissed the hard edge of his jaw, once, twice, letting her lips linger against his skin. "You're my second chance, too, you know."
"Guess our luck had to change eventually, right?"
As if in evidence of this fact, they were suddenly surrounded by the sweeping whir of the power systems coming back online. River let out a breath of relief and he helped her onto her feet as the lights came back on and the elevator finally started to move again.
MacCready looked down at himself, passed his eyes over her, then snorted. "We look and smell like we just had sex."
River shrugged, the picture of ease as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Amber eyes glinted roguishly up at him. "It's about time I show off what's mine," she said simply, and they'd rumbled to a stop before he could formulate a response to a statement like that.
She strolled out of the elevator like she owned the place, and MacCready could tell from the way the vault officers averted their eyes that her suspicion of being too loud had been correct. "Come on, love," she prompted him when he hesitated, holding her hand out, and he took it without a second thought.
This was right, she was right, and the Commonwealth could be scorched to ash and rubble as long as she was by his side.
After she helped them repair the reactor, they rushed like giddy children to the room the overseer had given her. She yanked the curtains closed, and nobody dared to disturb them as he worked on balancing the scales deep into the night, though the crescendo of her wild screams made it plainly clear when they eventually broke even.
