Oh Hell Yes, Romance
( A Fallout fanfiction typed entirely by The Chosen Storyteller )
Waking up with only half of the previous night memorized, practically stuck half naked to his desk surrounded by various chems and drinks bottles with the party's only guest passed out on a couch snoring in just underwear had been Hancock's typical Sunday mornings since... Oh... Day four into being mayor? That's when he truly learned the power of good Jet because that woman with the missile launcher and the misspelled tattoo admitted she couldn't tell decay from flowers anymore and yes she'd found rare, nice-smelling flowers in her travels and wanted to make an innuendo about flowers and sexuality before casually asking if he liked oral. Meh, he preferred having his mouth free.
Hancock looked around, evaluating the level of chaos. The furniture stayed upright and in place, but there were more containers or inhalers joining bottles and cake wrapping all over it and the floor. There was also the matter of clothes in odd places, specifically Hancock's coat was crumpled at the door and his trousers were on the couch... Sticking out beneath his pleasantly slumbering guest. Well, the latter was going to be a problem.
To be fair: a great chunk of the population of this lovely, hellhole settlement had seen him in less. But insecurity will always be no matter how much healing or personal growth- Well, everyone has their fucking issues and Hancock simply wasn't fond of looking at himself. Nothing to do about that.
He reached for one of the bottles that somehow managed to stay upright, gave it a glance. Wine? Oh hell yes, romance. No, actually that made him shudder wondering if his guest would wake up from a traumatic dream. If only he could remember, this rotting brain of his, did he willingly bring wine to the party or was that done by his guest knowing the risks? Neither of them even liked wine; that probably had the least effect on last night.
Hancock took his time rising from the desk with some disturbing noise he assumed to be joints, cracking bones here or there. Normally, he wouldn't have heard. Ah, one missing part was the radio. Did... Did they really have the thoughtfulness not to pass out and let Goodneighbor be plagued by The Five Stars all night?
He had flashbacks to days long gone, people who either died in their travels across the Commonwealth after their encounter or currently lived here but simply didn't want to make their night a big deal. Men and women with or without skin. Were they attractive? They must have been if he let them get in his pants; he'd never been with anyone expecting a serious relationship. They were more than likely using him for quick gratification at the time and if so... Same. No one knows what love is these days.
He vaguely remembered one man: guy was short and scrawny. When he was nervous, he rambled a lot, so Hancock felt they had a connection from not knowing how to shut up. Guy had nothing interesting to say, good thing Hancock was also stalling for time before the chems set in and both were feeling curious after the Mentats. His dick was huge; he probably came from California.
He also vaguely remembered a woman who contrast to that man with average looks and confidence despite that. She flashed him first meeting; she just thought it would be funny. She was leaning against the exit but dropped her trousers and underwear with that... To which everything went wrong when the lit cigarette in her mouth fell dangerously close to crotch level.
When all was said and done, Hancock decided it was only fair if he looked like a fool in front of her too. He'd already planned how to stage a scene when they arrived back at his office and had a slightly romantic moment looking up at the stars. The details were fuzzy, but his life definitely flashed before his eyes mocking the lack of accomplishment while his bare ass was in full view of anyone who might glance up when he'd slipped, and the woman was struggling to pull him up. That wasn't the staged scene, by the way.
Of course, those were just two encounters out of... Ugh, it was too early for numbers. But Hancock learned early on attachment wasn't his style. Radioactive horrors took him took him from virgin to sexually active, which was as fucked up as it sounded but could be unpacked later, though he could never feel the sparks the songs glorified. Or like the books Daisy left on the desk, the ones he sneaked a peek at when she left to check her stock. Love? Laughable. He was thinking more like... Romance in general.
That wasn't... A dead concept. Actually, there were plenty of people out in the wastelands still practicing that "unity" stuff. If they could find surviving rings, they would definitely be involved. Of course, Hancock usually felt like he'd eaten one too many cakes seeing that in the wild. It was an ill feeling; one he'd always known for a fact was because he was just not the type to settle down with one or entertain the idea, he could even feel love.
So, when Nate was around, um-
"Is it love?" Hancock asked out loud, not expecting an answer.
Now he wasn't disgusted even with a slight hangover, actually, the warmth blazing from cheeks to neck was fucking painful embarrassment even if Nate couldn't hear. Even when he said stuff like that out loud, he still didn't know if the feelings that unfortunately couldn't be forgotten with booze and chems could be classified as happily ever after bullshit. Okay, his stomach acted up in a drastically different way from disgust when around Nate... Sometimes he thought way too much about simple interactions... He definitely spent all his time with the guy... They even had sex.
Why was sex a big deal? Because every time it ended, Hancock felt like the neediest bitch attempting to make excuses for cuddling. Nate, more brawn than brain, should have taken a long time to realize but after only the second time opened his arms with a blissful smile. Hancock was mortified. For one second. Ultimately, he clung regardless of what this implied like he'd never have the chance again.
Oh, there would be more chances. Hey, if the chems and booze hadn't been too much last night Hancock didn't doubt he would have woken up sprawled on him. The idea of waking up with his partner always made him cringe, and thankfully they took the hint perhaps mid-sex and were out the door the moment someone miraculously climaxed.
Speaking of euphoria, the sun was bright through the window and though skipping trousers sounded like a dream Hancock decided he'd have to induce cardiac arrest in innocent visitors another day. He crouched by Nate's side, running a hand through greasy hair and whispering to him.
"Hey, don't leave this world behind." Hancock said with mock impatience, giving his shoulder a nudge.
He didn't know if it was his words or restored energy, but those beautiful eyes fluttered. Hancock swore he didn't have a thing for brown eyes... Nate having brown eyes was just a coincidence, giving him a mysterious look when stoic – which was often – or alluring gold specks by firelight.
"Good morning, handsome." Hancock greeted him, fully expecting a term of endearment in return. See how far he'd fallen?
Nate blinked the sleep from his eyes, allowing just lazy smile to only briefly appear on his lips. "We survived the night... Can I call you 'love'?"
Hancock's heart was about to fucking burst-
Hancock lined their faces up so he could still press his mouth to his forehead upside down. He contently placed his arm on the rest and gazed down at him afterward.
Was it wrong to take just a moment to admire the fact they were still together. Hancock would have expected him to leave the moment he confessed his connection to the mayor of Diamond City.
But... Hancock definitely preferred this. It wasn't like waking up in each other's arms, but it didn't need to be. Nate somehow had him viewing this go-to way to pass the time with one night stands as personal... Emotional... And he was certain his heart no longer belonged to him; but it's required to live, so Nate had no choice but to leave it in the withered ribcage.
The sentimental shit was interrupted by Nate glancing down, apparently noticing the article of clothing he'd been sleeping on. His eyes slowly looked back up, but only for a moment when Hancock stood and offered a confirming view.
"Hey..." Nate said slowly, eyes locked on his crotch. "I've spontaneously acquired a terrible hangover, so I might have to lie here a while."
"You already failed when you thought I'd believe all the drinks you chug actually work." Hancock replied promptly with a mocking serious tone. He didn't know how it lasted all the way through.
Nate sighed, but it was more of a comfortable one as he stretched his limbs to the point of light cracks. He would be turning thirty-one this year, so Hancock thought nothing of that sound. Despite Hancock's comment about the drinks, in all honesty Nate's head had to be pounding.
"Would you believe me if I said I would stay here all day if I could?" Hancock asked before the moment passed him by. He walked away, anything to hide fingers twisting and wringing not from withdrawal for once in his life.
"Yes."
"Why is that so easy for you?" Was a recurring thought, one Hancock was happy to voice.
A risky glance over the shoulder saw Nate was still lounging, with arms behind his head. The blank stare was just something to get used to, mostly harmless unless directed at raiders. The man's overall face could have used just a pinch of expression, while he had the muscles for it, but no one could tell him how to live.
There was a comfortable silence in the room as Hancock decided to not let the moments be wasted stepping over the evidence of their party to at least gather the most recent holotapes Fahrenheit provided. There was no labeling, but he could make a guess they were personal threats from whatever new group of assholes was feeling bold enough to challenge the large armed settlements this week.
He was leaning over the desk, honestly shifting his attention to thinking about which parts of Goodneighbor needed a security boost. There hadn't been Institute-loyal synth infiltration in a while, but the super mutants weren't exactly going away and when they started blindly shooting one couldn't kill them fast enough.
Then there was the matter of the footsteps trying oh so hard not to weigh on the floorboards, the strong arms gliding along his sides – that couldn't be neglected a moment longer.
Hancock was already melting against the body behind him but managed to stay on his feet long enough to turn and let Nate keep his arms loosely circling his frame.
"You're either planning something or made a mistake." Hancock couldn't help but say teasingly, merely pecking an awaiting Nate's lips before he easily bent and dodged his way out of this position and briskly approaching the couch.
It must have been the latter. Nate was frozen mannequin style, never dropping his arms as he looked over his shoulder. Hancock swiped the trousers, bundled and held them up as if this was a victory. He briefly thought he was just turning this into something, and he was right.
Nate was a stoic guy who barely reacted to the world, but this morning a childish pout appeared on his face as he was finally letting his partner rub off on him. Bluntly, Hancock had no fucking issue with that and was just as childish delaying dressing expecting something more from this.
So much maybe. Maybe he gave away his hopes, smiling like an idiot. Maybe Nate was making a sincere effort to remove the stick from his ass. Either way, the Commonwealth's biggest hope rushed up to him and had the boldness to try to take the trousers right out of his grasp.
"You really have no idea how fine you are without those, do you?" Nate asked in the usual tone. He was dead serious.
Hancock shook his head, certain this smile would destroy him. "You're the only one who wants me out of my clothes... Have you ever considered how weird you are?"
"You like weird." Nate pointed out casually, needing no more context.
Hancock couldn't argue because that was a good point, also chuckles escaped.
They went back and forth a little, but it was all fun and games even when the trousers were getting groped at and handled in ways they weren't normally when on Hancock's body. That would have to be remedied. It was a game that Hancock had the speed advantage over, so naturally he let Nate think he was the real victor when he intentionally competed for a grasp on the clothing item weakly.
First they were circling the room, but Nate got bold and threw the door open. This gave Hancock a genuine startle he instantly regretted, attempting to shrink somehow to make his legs less noticeable even at the bottom of the stairs.
Nate victoriously draped the trousers over his shoulder, much more slowly trying to figure out his reaction. Ultimately, he peeked out of the large gap in the doorway before turning to him with a whole new look on his face.
"No one's arrived yet." Nate told him, eyes smoldering and lips actually trying to curl. "Even if they were here, I'm not selfish. I don't mind if people get a good look at you – it's not fair if no one else gets to see such a sexy ghoul."
Heart, calm the fuck down. Hancock took a breath, slowly standing normally and loosening the bottom of his shirt he hadn't realized he was trying to magically stretch to reach past his waist.
"Nate..." Hancock spoke slowly, hesitating as his tongue wet a perpetually dry mouth. "You've lost it."
That didn't stop Hancock from springing after him, the two basically frolicking by this point although they would prefer any other alternate word for it. Nate was right that there wasn't any sign of Fahrenheit or security, so for just a few rare minutes the two of them lost their last brain cells together.
They weren't necessarily playing tag, but Nate decided to reveal just how fast he could run although doing so rather close to the railing was dangerous as fuck. Hancock made it easier for him, made him think he was actually succeeding to keep his clothes away. And if he enjoyed the sight of rotting corpse legs, hey, Hancock knew he'd have to come around to the idea he did sometime.
When they got close, Hancock would make weak grasps for the trousers and use that as an excuse to throw himself at his lips and steal about two or three kisses before Nate's hands were squeezing his hips and they were getting carried away. There was a specific moment Hancock had him pressed to a wall on the farthest left of that floor, caught in a lovesick trance seeing the eyes he wasn't obsessed with at all. Nate made sure to attempt a handsome smile but...
No. Unfortunately for him, Hancock was the only one who would find it enticing. The trousers had long fell off Nate's shoulder, landing at their feet while tongues untied.
"I... Dream about scenarios like this." Nate told him, fingers trailing down his arm.
Hancock felt consumed by fire, but that was just putting his condition mildly while thrill instantly put a smile on his face.
Nate still had something to say; he prevented an interruption by taking his hand and placing it on his bare chest. Right where a telltale blush was spreading since it wasn't prominent up to that point. Let him know that's what he did to him. That was important to know.
"The idea of having someone to wake up to, fool around in bed sounds amazing. And I did have that experience for a while, but I miss it. I can't explain how much I want it back." Nate's voice remained bland, but Hancock knew there was feeling in the words.
It was never a simple task translating those feelings, but Hancock understood. Like when he had to make a dumbass move asking if he was in love with Nate. Emotions shouldn't have to be a pain in the pass.
So, when Hancock looked back from Nate's chest to his face, he wasn't taken aback by gold in his eye perhaps from emotions for him getting let out. They would come one at a time, so he could work with this. Hancock didn't know how to say that idea made him feel like he was flying.
So, he just kissed Nate, really, that was the best option when faced with a choice. It was fleeting with Hancock wrecking the moment, chuckling.
They weren't clingy teenagers; the world was in ruins and not no amount of nuclear horror would stop the flow of time. Still, the couple wasn't necessarily finished with each other when mouths and hands withdrew but they had to get back to it.
Hancock made a dramatic beckoning gesture, other hand on his hip casually to go with his state of dress. "I'm just gonna want to fuck if we stay like this. Let's get back to the shooting."
Nate nodded slowly, retrieving the trousers he'd obviously not entirely forgotten. "Back to the gore."
The trousers were given reluctantly, but Hancock was too busy searching his face for hidden emotions to dress. "Maybe one of those holotapes have a lead for a meaningless treasure hunt."
"You never have fun when we go on those." Nate said, using all his strength not to pout. And that was just another highlight of the morning in Hancock's opinion.
"I won't lie; sometimes I'm just sick of reaching another pile of bones after the delivery boy act." Hancock admitted, taking his hand and leading him out from that perilous corner. "Fortunately, the company's not bad at all. I'm glad that if he has to be gullible, it's when I've got nothing better to do and I get to watch his ass all the way."
"You mean my back?" Nate attempted to correct him, head tilting like that dog of his.
Hancock turned as they froze just steps away from his office, deliberately humming just for something to fill the awkward silence. But they both knew what he meant. At least, Nate wasn't so slow he didn't steal a look over his shoulder to make sure the already worn underwear was even leaving anything to the imagination.
"Will either of you make yourselves decent, or do I have to look to the sky or ground all day?" A third, exasperated voice interrupted.
Hancock tensed immediately, about to make an instinctive rush for cover when Nate suddenly moved in front of him. He could still look over his shoulder, seeing Fahrenheit walking from a corner she'd apparently been waiting in but with her head turned toward the exit. He wondered if she wanted to race for the exit if he met the dress code.
The three were simply cursed to always meet under awkward circumstances – Hancock knew he should have gotten used to it by now. Still, head to toe cringing aside, he couldn't remember a morning he was ever this energized to accomplish shit. He had good feeling Nate would be right there with him, of course he was never wrong about that.
There was no excuse for the smile that refused to leave his face even into the afternoon. Love would be a likely cause, but Hancock still wasn't ready to confirm it. That sounded complicated, so why not keep it simple?
After all, they still had a few love nests scattered around the Commonwealth, so the chances of blurting out feelings in passion were always going to be there.
Fin
