Preston's words weighed heavily on MacCready. He was starting to question himself, in more ways than one. Over the next few days, all he could think about was his relationship with Nate. He found himself weighing up the truths and the lies, the proof and the disproof. He thought about the way Nate acted around him, and the way he acted around Nate. The exchanged looks, the soft smiles, the closeness. How Nate flirted with him, and how MacCready blushed like a fu- a freaking virgin whenever he did. He thought about the fantasies- and yes, they were fantasies- that cropped up in his thoughts with increasing frequency, leaving him feeling awkward and uncomfortable late at night or first thing in the morning. Now that he actually stopped to consider it, the mounting evidence was downright concerning in its obviousness. Without Nate and his wild adventures there to scramble his thoughts and distract him from the workings of his own mind, living on the west bank of denial was becoming harder and harder, and he was beginning to seriously consider that he, Robert Joseph MacCready, was, in fact, gay. Or, well, bisexual, he supposed. It was a jarring thought, to say the least. He'd never questioned himself like this before, having always been confident in his sexuality because he'd found Lucy, loved her and had a child with her. He remembered all the jokes, first with the immature kids at Little Lamplight and then with the crass, offensive humour of the Gunners, made at the expense of people in sexual relationships with people of the same gender, especially men. Since he'd gone freelance he had noticed that people, especially those in Goodneighbour, were a lot more carefree about the whole issue, openly flirting with other members of their gender without cause for concern. Heck, he'd been hit on by guys in the Third Rail from time to time, and he had declined them the same way he would have declined a girl he wasn't interested in. It had never gotten to him before. But somehow this was bringing him back to those childish, immature assumptions. Maybe it was that it was now his own identity, his own life being pulled into question. Still, he recalled the casual way Cait had brought up Preston's crush on Nate, and how nonchalantly Nate had dropped into conversation that the gender of his sexual partners was not necessarily a concern for him. Clearly these were not people who cared about that kind of thing.

So was that it, then? Was he ready to admit that he was, in fact, attracted to Nate, and maybe even in love with him? If the answer was yes, what came next? He supposed that it would have to be telling Nate, and that was a whole new issue in of itself. He had constructed a million and one scenarios in his head of different ways he could come clean to his friend, and all of them seemed to end with him embarrassing himself horribly. What if Nate didn't want a relationship? What if he was in love with someone else? What if he laughed at MacCready for thinking his flirting was real? What if somehow MacCready messed up his words, or his actions, and ended up making himself look like a complete idiot? And, possibly even more scary than all that, what if Nate liked him back? Then they'd actually be a couple, who kissed and touched and loved each other, and that was simultaneously the most wonderful and most terrifying thought of all.

He was considering bringing it up with Cait, asking for her advice on how to broach the subject, but he had a feeling he knew what the ex-fighter's response would be; to just spit it out and hope for the best. During the time he spent with her whilst Nate was away he was sure that she had picked up on his malaise. If she did, though, she didn't press him to talk. Instead, she helped him let out some stress through lessons in hand-to-hand combat. She seemed grateful for something to do in Preston's absence, and when he suggested it, she was only too happy to oblige. That was how he found himself divested of his hat and jacket, hands wrapped in gauze, pinned to the ground by an angry Irish redhead. She taught him how to use his agility to his advantage, and how even large opponents could be taken down if you played your cards right. He gained quite the collection of bruises as the days went by, as Cait was far from gentle with him, but after a week or so he did manage to get her on the ground. She laughed, praising him for his progress, and then proceeded to flip them over so he was beneath her, arm twisted halfway up his back. He growled and complained when he couldn't win, but beneath his outward indignation he was glad for the company. When they returned from one of their impromptu boxing matches, bruised and mildly bloody but laughing and joking together, they would pitch up at the bar with a glass of something strong and tend to their injuries. There, they would talk about themselves and their lives so far. MacCready learned about all the suffering the ex-fighter had been through, and how first Nate and then Preston had helped her out of her self-destructive habits. "He understands," she'd said, "what it's like to just not care anymore."

"But... Why didn't you just... y'know..." He wasn't sure how to phrase it in a tactful way.

"Not brave enough, I s'pose. As for Preston, well he had the rest of his group with him, didn't he? Couldn't just go jump off a building with people, even just a few already doomed people relying on you."

"Mm." MacCready stared down into his glass. "Why were those people tagging after him anyway?"

"They were what was left o' his faction of the Minutemen after the Quincy massacre."

"Quincy massacre?"

"You haven't heard of it? Group o' Gunners opened fire on the townsfolk. Minutemen tried to step in, but there weren't enough o' them willing to step in, and after one o' their officers defected there was no contest, really."

MacCready's eyes widened slightly as he recalled a memory, a memory of looking down a scope at a man in a blue coat with his hands raised, coming to negotiate a treaty, with orders to shoot the second he drew a weapon. It had been a rough day, and they'd lost a fair few men, but they were mustering for a second attack, determined to gain what they saw as an excellent place to set up a well-fortified outpost. Being the group's resident sniper, he'd been removed from the action, stationed high up in buildings and on rooftops. He remembered the enemy being a ragtag group of people, well-armed but disorganised, their biggest advantage being their location. He hadn't distinguished between targets; anyone not in Gunner green was an enemy. And as soon as the man in blue- the same blue as Nate's General's coat- had come to them with the news of how to overcome the town's formidable defences, the battle was no longer a fair fight. MacCready had cheered as their last fighters fell, but his comrades hadn't stopped. Instead of just taking over, the Gunners turned their weapons on innocents; farmers, those too weak to fight, children. That had been the last straw for MacCready. He hadn't been able to justify pointing his gun at innocents, and so he had run. And the worst moment of all, when he had run into a group of settlers trying to do the same; to escape the massacre, and the hate that had been in the leader's eyes as he pointed the barrel of his laser musket at MacCready, ready to end his life as the disgraced ex-Gunner turned tail and ran. He remembered all this, and suddenly his mouth was dry and his pulse racing.

"Hey, RJ." Cait was frowning at him. "You alright there?"

"Actually... I have heard of it." His voice was quiet and shaky. He swallowed. Probably best she find out now instead of by accident later. "I was there."

She blinked. "No shit. Did you fight?"

He nodded, feeling sick. "It was what made me quit."

"The Gunners? You were on their side?"

"I was until they started firing on innocents. Then I ran."

She stared at him. He wanted to bury himself in a shallow grave.

"Well... Props for quittin' while you were ahead, I s'pose."

MacCready barked a short, sharp, bitter laugh. "I was never ahead. I shot plenty of them when they were shooting back at me."

"...Does Preston know?"

MacCready shook his head. "Guess I should just be lucky he didn't recognise me. Then again, I didn't recognise him."

"Huh."

There was a pause, in which MacCready's fingers twitched around the glass he was holding, his stomach twisted in knots.

"Listen, you can't beat yerself up about it. It's in the past, and you left them. If you had stayed an' killed those settlers we would be havin' a different conversation, but you didn't. Everyone makes mistakes, 'specially when they're with the wrong people."

MacCready gave her a smile, grateful but still uncomfortable.

"Besides. I'm sure you're more'n making up for it with what you and Nate have been doing."

"I guess. Do you think Preston would hate me if he found out?"

Cait thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Nah. He might be good at holding a grudge but he respects people who made the right choice in the end."

"...Okay. Probably not the best thing to bring up in casual conversation though."

Cait nodded, grimacing. "You're probably right about that one."

Time went on. One week turned into two, then three. Life went on, but with each passing day the seed of concern in MacCready's chest grew. He had no idea how long was a reasonable amount of time to wait, and he was convinced that it had already been and gone. He missed Nate with an intensity that had him staying up late into the night, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, and pulling up a chair outside the walls of Covenant with a couple of Nate's collected comic books, glancing up at every noise. It was emotionally exhausting, especially now he had the weight of the truth of his feelings on his shoulders. When his friends could distract him, they did, but he always found himself reverting to a state of eternal impatience and worry. More than once, he had fallen asleep in his chair, only to wake up on one of the beds in Nick's office, or something to that effect. He could see that the others were concerned for him, which he didn't understand. Surely they should be concerned for Nate. He'd been gone for far too long. He found himself trying to calculate how long it should take, only to fail when he realised he had no idea how far into the Glowing Sea Nate would be going. And he'd have to track down this Virgil guy, since it was highly unlikely that he would know where he was straight away. Plus his detour through Goodneighbour to pick up Hancock, plus, knowing Nate, some stops on the way to explore local sites of interest. It wasn't implausible, he supposed. He hoped.

So it was that when Nate did return, MacCready was perched in his chair, one leg over the arm rest and a comic book open in his lap. It was getting into the evening, after everyone had eaten, and he was tired, his attention failing. He found himself reading the same pages over and over without really registering what was happening. He was so lost in his own world that at first the far off sounds didn't register. He vaguely registered voices, and the loud clanking of power armour. He glanced up when the sounds approached, and gasped in a breath. They were unmistakeable, the suit of grubby armour and the much shorter figure in a long red coat. MacCready scrambled to his feet, leaving the comic on the chair and running to meet them.

"Nate! Hey, Nate!" He slowed as he approached them, a huge smile on his face.

"RJ!" Nate's all too familiar voice echoes from within the armour, and he reached up to remove the helmet. MacCready almost laughed out of sheer joy. Nate was grinning wildly, his red hair sticking to his forehead, looking slightly damp with sweat and dirt. "Fuck, I missed that face."

MacCready did laugh then, and he fell into stride beside the pair. "Heya, Hancock."

"Ah, if it isn't Goodneighbour's favourite troublemaker." The ghoul replied in his deep, hoarse voice. "How've you been holding up?"

"I'm alright. What about you two? No major injuries?"

"Nah. Had a close call with a couple radscorpions but my armour held up nicely."

"This fella's insane." Hancock commented, sounding amused and incredulous in equal measure. "Ran straight at the things. If he wasn't in that suit he would have been stung half a dozen times over."

"Trust me, I know."

They entered Covenant together, greeting the other inhabitants.

"Glad to see you're in one piece, Blue." Piper commented, smiling wryly. "Wouldn't have trusted Hancock with you myself, but there you go."

"Nice to see you too, Piper." The mayor drawled, grinning lazily.

"So does that mean you're Blue's latest charity case then? You planning on sticking around?"

Hancock glanced around the town, his black eyes widening slightly. "If the inside of these buildings is as pretty as the outside and you got a plentiful supply of booze and chems, I could definitely see myself getting comfy here."

"Check and check." Nate smirked. "I'll have to show you my stores."

"Wait, don't you have important mayoral stuff to do? People to watch, a town to manage, that kind of thing?"

Hancock snorted derisively. "You know Goodneighbour basically runs itself. Plus I've left Fahrenheit in charge. And I've been in charge for a while now. I deserve a holiday."

"Fair enough."

Naturally, the first thing Nate did after saying hello to everyone was unload all the stuff he had collected on his trip. He parked the power armour back on its station and immediately got to work. MacCready found himself watching him as he did so. After the initial excitement of seeing him wore off, it occurred to him that now that Nate had returned, MacCready would be tasked with having that talk with him. The talk that he had been mentally obsessing over for the past three weeks. And suddenly he was scared to be alone with Nate, even though he knew logically he had no reason to be. Hancock had popped a couple mentats and was draped over the stairs at the front of one of the houses, talking in a low, languid voice to an amused-looking Nick. MacCready watched them absent mindedly, until a voice behind him made him jump.

"You gonna talk to him then?"

"What?" MacCready spun to face the voice. Cait was grinning at him.

"You know. Talk to him. Finally get that pretty arse in bed."

"What?" MacCready squeaked, blushing furiously.

Cait laughed. "What, ya think I didn't notice?"

"No! I mean... Well, he's busy. I should... He should get settled first."

"Ah, I see." Cait's eyes flickered from him to something behind him, and she smirked. "Well, good luck with that." And she strode off. MacCready was a little confused by this until he turned around and was met with the sight of Nate striding towards him. Immediately, a thousand and one thoughts raced through his head, leaving him in a flustered and mildly panicked state.

"Hey, RJ, have you been going through my stuff?"

"What?"

"You know. My papers, my holotapes, my comics."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Don't worry, it's not a problem, it's just that nothing's in the right place."

"You actually have a system for all that junk?"

"Yeah." Nate frowned, his eyes taking in MacCready's tense stance. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Nate didn't seem to buy it. "I just..." He sighed. "I missed you, okay?"

Nate's expression softened. He smiled. "I told you not to worry about me."

"Doesn't work like that, unfortunately."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." There was a pause as Nate considered him. "I missed you too."

For a split second, MacCready considered just spitting it out. Just getting it out in the open, I think I'm in love with you, Nate. But instead, he just hugged the man tightly.

"Next time, I'm going with you. That way I won't worry about you nearly so much."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"No. And Nate?"

"Mm?"

MacCready wrinkled his nose. "You stink."

Nate's laugh was low and deep, comforting and content. "That's what three weeks in power armour does to you, unfortunately." He stepped back. "I'm definitely going to wash off, because I feel as gross as I apparently smell."

"Did you not take it off once the whole time?"

"Well obviously I didn't sleep in it, but other than that, not really."

"Hm. Well, don't let me stop you."

Nate nodded, giving him one more smile. "I'll tell you everything later, yeah?"

"Yeah."

With that, he walked away. MacCready found himself smiling slightly as he watched him leave, going back into his house.

Cait was in her usual spot, and MacCready decided to spend the evening with her while Nate cleaned himself and his gear up.

"Loverboy still busy then?"

"Yeah. I don't know what he did to that armour but it looks like it's gonna take some time to get back into proper working order."

Cait chuckled. "Alright then. Pull up a seat." She poured him a shot of vodka. "Drink of the night. It's like downing bleach, but once you get past the taste it's not bad."

MacCready knocked it back and winced. "You're not kidding."

They spent the next couple hours drinking, smoking and generally passing the time. MacCready was in the talkative stage of drunkenness, and, as always, his thoughts were turning to Nate.

"I don't know what to do. I really don't."

"What? About what?"

"What do you think about, dumba- idiot?"

"Oh." Cait was quiet for a moment, here expression exaggeratedly pensive. "Why can't ya just tell him?"

"What, just walk up to him like 'hey, Nate, you know I'm having a freaking identity crisis because I think I might be more than a little bit in love with you and I have no idea how to deal will that fact'?"

"Well... Yeah."

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because... Because!" MacCready stated, exasperated.

"That's not a proper reason." Cait pointed out. MacCready growled in frustration at her lack of understanding. "Come on, he's not that scary. And I'd say odds are he definitely likes you too. I mean, have you seen the way he acts around ya?"

"And what if he does? What then?"

"Then you get some o' that sweet dick." Cait winked at him.

MacCready's thoughts stuttered to a halt once more as he considered that. His fantasies actually coming to life... "I don't, I mean, I've never... Not with a guy..."

"Yeah, but you know how it works right?"

He thought back to the crude insults thrown around the Gunners, and the dirty threats. "I get the gist, yeah." Then another thought occurred to him, and he blanched, slumping onto the bar. "Oh God. I'm not gonna be on top, am I?"

Cait burst out laughing, slapping his shoulder. He glared at her, and she took a deep breath, calming herself down before responding. "Aw, don't worry about it. I promise it doesn't hurt as much as you think it will."

"You've done it before?"

"Well, yeah, 'course I have. I'd do it to Preston, if he'd let me."

"And it doesn't hurt?"

Cait shook her head. "Not if ya do it properly. Worst part's afterwards. He fucks you good, you're not gonna be walkin' around much the next day."

MacCready considered that, and came to the conclusion that it would probably be worth it. "Alright. So you think I should do it?"

"Hell yeah! Everyone knows you two're good for each other. Just fuckin' go for it. You won't regret it."

"Tonight?"

She grinned at him. "Right now."

"What?"

"Do it right now, while you're all pumped. Before you chicken out."

He gave her a look, then got to his feet. "Fine."

"Wait!" She poured out one last shot. "For luck." They clinked glasses, downed them and then laughed at each others' expressions. "Alright, alright. Go get 'em, tiger. And I want all the details." She slapped him on the ass and he gave her one last glare before leaving.

The lights were on in Nate's house, and MacCready stopped outside his door, unsure as to whether or not he should knock. He settled for a few short sharp knocks before he pushed the door open. Nate was on his bed in a t shirt and slacks, flicking through a magazine. He looked up at MacCready's entrance. At the sight of him, all MacCready's confidence left him, and his mouth went dry.

"Evening. What can I do for you?" Nate asked, sounding pleased.

MacCready swayed slightly. "Uh... I just... Um... Can I talk to you?"

"Of course." He frowned. "Have you been drinking?"

"No!" Nate gave him a look. "Alright, maybe a bit. But this is serious, okay?"

"Okay." Nate closed the magazine and put it on the chest of drawers by his bed. Next to MacCready's toy soldier, he noticed with a note of happiness. "Talk to me."

He opened his mouth to speak, but found that all the words had left him. Feeling intensely awkward, he shifted from one foot to the other and cleared his throat.

"Ah... Well, um... While you were away I've been doing a lot of thinking. About you. And me. And I spoke to Preston and he seemed to think this was a good idea and so does Cait, actually it was Cait who told me I should come and talk to you now instead of putting it off because I would have put it off even though Preston basically told me that's a really bad idea and it's been keeping me up at night so I really do need to get it off my chest but-"

"RJ." Nate interrupted him calmly, a smirk on his lips. "You're rambling."

"Right." He took a deep breath. "I think I might have feelings for you." He shut up, like he was shocked by his own words. Then he looked up, trying to assess Nate's reaction. The other man was watching him, slightly wide eyed. He felt himself flushing. "So. Um. Yeah. I really just said that, didn't I?" He heard himself laughing nervously. "Wow. I'll just..." He gestured vaguely at the door. "See you." Feeling mortified, he walked back to the door and opened it, but before he could leave, a hand pushed it shut again. Nate had gotten up to stop him, and was now standing right behind him. His breath caught in his chest.

"RJ." Nate's voice was low and calm. Exactly the opposite of how MacCready felt. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face him, his back against the door. The sudden proximity left him feeling slightly breathless. "Did you really think you could tell me that and then just leave?"

MacCready didn't respond, just stared up at Nate's amused face. His brain had effectively stopped working.

"No, I think you knew what you were getting yourself into." With the hand that was not resting on the door frame beside MacCready's head, he removed MacCready's hat and hung it on the top of the flagpole next to his door. "Because there's no way you didn't notice that I very much like you, too." And then his knuckles were brushing against MacCready's cheek ever so gently, trailing down to his jawline and tilting up his chin. "And you... know just how to tempt me..." MacCready's breath was uneven and he was feeling lightheaded. Nate paused for a moment, giving him a chance to push him away. When he didn't take it, Nate closed the distance, kissing him softly. He closed his eyes, letting Nate in as his heart skipped a beat and his mind raced. He's kissing me. He's really kissing me. And I'm letting him. Nate's lips were slightly rough from weathering, but he was gentle and took his sweet time in a way that had MacCready gasping into his mouth as the older man's fingers ran through the hair on the back of his neck. He pressed his body against Nate's, grasping at his shirt and returning the kiss to the best of his ability, loving the warmth of the redhead's body against his own, and the feeling of his stubble against his chin. He felt Nate's other hand against the small of his back, pulling him close. The older man wasn't being quite so gentle anymore, now that he knew MacCready was comfortable with this and eager for more. The merc felt teeth on his lip, biting playfully, and Nate's fingers slipping beneath the hem of his duster, brushing bare skin. He shivered a little at the contact, a flash of heat going through him. When Nate finally broke the kiss, MacCready found himself leaning forward into Nate's embrace, chasing the lost contact. There was a spark in Nate's eyes, similar in intensity to the one he often displayed before running headlong into battle. Without thinking, MacCready grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of his bed, kicking off his shoes and laying back on it, practically begging Nate to join him. Wordlessly, Nate obliged, climbing on top of him. They kissed again, all heat and desire, kind of messy but at the same time perfectly coordinated. MacCready ran his hands over Nate's chest, tugging at the fabric.

"Off." He gasped between kisses. The older man understood what he wanted, leaning back so he was effectively straddling MacCready, and pulling the shirt over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. MacCready sat up so he could kiss Nate's shoulder, his fingers following the lines of his scars like they had done so many times in his dreams. He just... He wanted so badly to touch, to taste, to feel. Nate tilted his head back slightly, baring his throat for MacCready, who took the invitation, kissing the side of his neck, even daring to bite down gently, an action which elicited a gasp from Nate, and caused his whole body to tense slightly. Nate let him do this for a short while before he growled, taking charge again and pushing MacCready back down. He kissed him again roughly while his hand travelled down to the buttons on the other's jacket, struggling with them for a moment before managing to undo them. He seemed frustrated when he found a shirt beneath it, so MacCready pushed against his shoulder gently. Nate let him up, and he divested himself of both his jacket and his shirt. Nate's eyes glanced over him appreciatively before he was on him once again, kissing and touching and pulling all sorts of reactions from the man beneath him. MacCready had always been sensitive, pretty much all over, and so even the simplest touches; Nate's fingers on his hips, his lips on his collarbone and brushing the line of his throat, had him squirming beneath his lover's ministrations, getting increasingly worked up. He ran his fingers through Nate's hair, accidentally pulling some of it out of his ponytail. And when Nate's thumb brushed over his nipple, he gasped and his grip tightened, causing Nate to look up at him. When he saw that the younger man had pulled his hair out of pleasure rather than protest, he did it again, clearly taking pleasure in making MacCready squirm. MacCready let him do this for a while, simply enjoying the attention, but he was beginning to get a little impatient, and he pushed against Nate's shoulder, flipping them over so he was now the one straddling Nate, and he had the freedom to do as he liked with the older man. Remembering the reaction he got earlier, he nipped at the side of Nate's neck hard enough to leave marks, revelling in the little gasps and twitches he got in response. Nate pulled him back up to kiss him once more, and as he did so, MacCready ran a hand down, over his chest and stomach before he began toying with the waistband of Nate's slacks. Before he could do anything, though, a hand closed around his wrist, stopping him. MacCready broke the kiss, feeling confused and a little concerned.

"Stop." Nate's voice was breathy, and it sounded a little like saying this was physically painful, but he didn't let go.

"What?" MacCready asked, sounding a little more snappy than he'd intended.

"RJ... You're drunk."

"So?" Well, if that was all he was worried about... He leaned in to resume kissing him, but Nate pushed him away.

"How can you be sure you won't regret this tomorrow?"

"I won't!" MacCready didn't mean to sound so whiny, but he was so so horny and he wanted Nate and Nate wasn't being fair-

"I can't do this, okay?"

MacCready was silent for a moment, then he sat back, feeling more than a little hurt. "You don't want me?" He asked, hearing the incredulity in his own voice. "Wow. Okay." He moved to get off Nate, but Nate stopped him. "No! No, I didn't say that. I just... I want to be sure that you want me. That this isn't just the drink talking."

"But I do want you."

"You have my solemn word that if you're still one hundred percent sure you want this when you're one hundred percent sober, I am yours to do with as you so desire. Alright?"

MacCready huffed, but nodded. He reluctantly climbed off Nate and sat on the edge of the bed, attempting to slip his feet back into his shoes when he felt a warm arm encircle his waist and pull him back down.

"Hey. Just because I said I won't fuck you tonight doesn't mean you have to leave." Nate was hugging him from behind, his chest pressed against MacCready's back. It was warm and comforting, and MacCready sighed as he relaxed into the embrace.

"So I can stay the night?"

"Damn right you can." Nate kissed the back of his neck, then let go so he could rid himself of his slacks. MacCready was a little reluctant to copy him, very aware of the effect that Nate's attentions had had on him, but he stripped off the rest of his clothes and curled up under the sheets in his underwear with Nate. Behind closed eyelids he saw the lights flick off, and then he felt warm arms around him once more. Before he settled down, Nate pressed one more kiss to MacCready's lips, then lay down beside him.

"Night, RJ."

"G'night."

As his exhaustion claimed him, he smiled to himself as he realised that after all those nights of drifting off to thoughts of these arms around him, and those lips kissing him, it had finally come true.