Warning: this story's shameless slice of life. If you think stories that focus on character interaction and feels are boring, you will be so fucking out of your comfort zone here. I feel like people forget that Fallout has great characters whether they've got big roles or fade after their spotlight moment. Rather than gush about them, those forum posters spend more time frothing at the mouth when someone dares to suggest New Vegas isn't perfect. It's just not perfect, though.
I truly believe stories that explore character relationships are interesting. It's my favorite thing to write, and that's just how it is. Maybe that sounds boring to you, and if so I don't know why you didn't take my first warning and escape. At the end of the day, there's nothing I can say to make you read this story. It's just something I've wanted to do ever since seeing Hancock in-game. I feel like there's a decent amount to explore with this guy's head, so what better place to start than his reactions to being in a relationship? Also, BRACE YOURSELVES just in case I screw up the characterization. Hancock is the greatest thing I've seen in a modern video game, and when I write characters I especially like the difficulty is astronomical. If I fuck up, do let me know. Also, throw me off a cliff in a rational manner.
Can I also point out I know the story title's crap, but I could probably write a 50 chapter story without coming up with a vaguely decent title. Cutesy game reference sucks, I know, but most romance stories use generic 1 word things like "Wings" or "Heartbeat". Titles should have effort, which is what I'm going for here. It was either the game reference or something along the lines of "Old School Romance Revival" which takes way too long to say with a straight face.
DISCLAIMER TIME – "Bethesda didn't poison our water supply, burn our crops or deliver a plague unto our houses. But they barfed Fallout 76 out. Fuck the video game industry, and fuck my life. *Puts on my best funeral attire and hops into the nearest coffin*"
( A Fallout fanfiction typed entirely by The Chosen Storyteller... )
With This Ring Minus 48 Charisma
Chapter 1
Even after he stopped counting the years, Hancock couldn't help if he was intrigued by those with tales of a different life entirely. Once upon a time all those vehicles doomed to eventually fall apart on charred roads were deathtraps people willingly gambled their lives away in, children suffered mentally and physically in school five days a week just to learn pointless information and reputation was so important that if murder could help it would be added into one's peaceful schedule.
Hancock was never meant to truly know the Pre-War age, and he'd accepted that. If he was on a smoking break and happened to overhear two ghouls lapse into the past out loud, his attention shifting was only natural… It really wasn't often that scenario was arranged perfectly, but his blurry mental picture of the past gained enough detail afterward. But if he was given the option to travel through time and experience it up close and personal, fuck that.
A preserved relic of the past stumbled ungracefully into his world, anyhow. The result taking… A much different turn than Hancock expected.
"I was just wondering what it would be like to kiss you." Nate said as if speaking of the weather, still leaning over the pile of scrap metal and tools.
Hancock took a moment to do some wondering as well, mostly because he had been putting the latest trash they picked up on the supply run into one of the cabinets in the garage. It wasn't the first time Nate made a comment that sounded remarkably close to flirting, but there was a first for Hancock not having a reply already on the tip of his tongue.
The bag of supplies made a thud when it hit the floor. Hancock could feel Nate's gaze on him suddenly, and he imagined how much emotion had to be in his eyes to be able to feel his stare at all.
He was stalling… Couldn't think of a single reply… Too late to pretend he wasn't thrown out of orbit…
In the end, Hancock stretched his back and turned to meet those beautiful eyes directly. Words were useful, but there were times actions said so much more without the risk of awkward pacing. There was only three seconds for him to feel his heart come to life again, because he flung himself at Nate.
They didn't die. Nate was caught off guard, stumbling when Hancock pressed himself to his chest. The only thing keeping Nate still were hands clasping his shoulders, fingers digging into innocent fabric. Somewhere among the chaos, Hancock lined their faces up and managed to make mouth to mouth contact.
Rose petals weren't dropping from the heavens, the annoyingly loud rain hadn't weakened for anything and though Hancock was overcome with a rush of elation the self-conscious BS in his head wouldn't let him forget that he really did kiss like a comic book character with an ability to steal faces.
For such a romantically-challenged kiss, it found steam and went on longer than it had any business to. Hancock was used to forgetting to breathe, but Nate's lungs and brain were probably shriveled. They separated long enough for breathing purposes, and Hancock took the opportunity to finally look him in the eye. But Nate didn't say anything – he couldn't because Hancock's finger rushed to press his lips shut. Judging from Nate's speed, he was going to actually try to sweep him off his feet this time. Frankly, Hancock wanted to be the one to end the experience with an inappropriate comment.
On that night of firsts, however, brown eyes sparkling with the most sincere amazement he'd ever seen made Hancock shut the fuck up. The sudden loss of balance, the grin that appeared on his face… Of course he was self-conscious of how he must have looked, but it was difficult to care with Nate boldly moving in for seconds. And probably feeling ridiculous too when the enthusiasm led to his nose slamming into his cheek.
One year later, Hancock found himself thoroughly swept off his feet in a way he could not locate one goddamn explanation for. It was time to admit that his minor interest in Pre-War days fizzled, it had to in order for Nate to work his magic. When Nate's stare was particularly piercing, pants fell.
For a little while, it seemed like the final stage to reach in their strange relationship was sex. One might wonder how it even worked considering the ghoul situation. No one asked, and no one got answers. But if a bystander were to pass by the truck stop before reaching Sanctuary at a specific time of night, they were guaranteed to overhear a ruckus they wouldn't think too much about.
Everything was supposed to be fine after reaching a point they didn't have to trigger sex with booze. They could live...not happily ever after, but continue enjoying each other's company until death got in the way.
But that idealism could get the hell out, as far as the Commonwealth was concerned.
"You do realize that every time you're seen with him, I have to answer the questions." Fahrenheit said in the least enthusiastic tone, idly sliding her glass around. "'What attracts Hancock to that?' They ask. 'Is that ass distracting Hancock from watching over m- Everyone?' They're desperate to know. And it might be silly on the surface, but this prevents me from hearing the usual settlement concerns."
"So if I bring Nate to the balcony and we tongue wrestle in front of everyone, they'll realize some forms of pleasure can't be universally understood." Hancock added in the moment Fahrenheit returned to her drink.
Fahrenheit's drink wound up crashing back to the table, its sickening crunch deafened by the music starting. "I might consider flinging you off the balcony if you're not serious."
"I've followed Nate to the top of an insanely tall tower, had super mutants unleash all forms of hell while we attempted to escape in the Commonwealth's fucking slowest elevator." Hancock said quickly, the words somehow not setting the inside of his mouth on fire in their speedy travels. "All that on a rainy night. So falling off the balcony? It won't feel the same."
Fahrenheit had simply resorted to rubbing her temples as she gave him an exasperated look. She was either waiting for him to admit the gossip about his increasingly baffling sex life could be toned down, or she was jealous she didn't get to shoot up super mutants more often. It could go either way.
"Well." Fahrenheit said once releasing a breath and taking a quick gulp of her drink. "Isn't that how all the great love stories go? Two people from opposite lifestyles wait until the world's crumbling before deciding they actually give a damn about each other?"
"I was there, and as a witness I'd say you're ninety percent accurate." A new, lifeless voice cut in. But there was little time to consider the words, not when the owner put three bottles of beer down.
Nate pulled out the chair next to Hancock, no fucks about the obnoxious creaking noise. "Ten percent of the love stories actually have a future, drama resolved long enough to have sex or random acts of love. Depending on whether those involved went to church." He casually opened a bottle, and looked back and forth at everyone bewildered. "What are we even talking about?"
"If you and I kiss in public, all the people who want to get in my pants will be turned off by the fact I don't mind wholesome activity." Hancock explained as casually as he could, instantly drinking after and savoring it grime and all.
From the corner of Hancock's eye, he could see Nate nodding like he'd just been informed of a completely sensible course of action. All was well until he opened his mouth.
"But can they read how much I love you from my general face area?" Nate asked, experimentally pressing various spots on said area while Fahrenheit leaned closer to look for love too.
Hancock couldn't be sure if he drank too much at once, or his throat collapsed in rejection of its own will. He was definitely aware of violently coughing the booze out and on the floor in the same moment a softer song began to play. Of all the noise that took place at their table in the span of, what, twenty-five minutes… Of course that made a few people finally look their way. Hancock still didn't have a moment to care because of the thoughts going wild in his mind with new ammo.
"He said the L word as if it's just a fact. Why haven't you said it in return?"
"Come to think of it, when was the last time you let him know how you feel?"
"There might be more to relationships than sex, sometimes. Never mind, you can't understand."
Hancock finally stopped pacing near the entrance and sat down to distract himself with a cigarette. It was still late in the night, Fahrenheit fled the scene before he could ask her for help in dropping a passed out Nate onto a bed at the hotel. Hancock knew better than to let these thoughts consume his head, so he didn't look for any extra alcohol or pull Mentats out of his bag. Maybe he could find trouble on his own.
There wasn't a lot of activity at the moment, not around the shops at least. Hancock refused to be left alone with the painful sort of crazy in his head, but he didn't have much choice of company for the time being. The nameless Triggermen guy leaning against the outer wall of Daisy's shop was too serious, rolling his eyes a shocking amount when Hancock casually asked a string of questions with blatant innuendo because. Just because. It was a tie; Hancock never flinched when the silence let him take in what he'd just said out loud, and the Triggermen guy stared blankly into space without the slightest hint of cracking a smile.
"Are you always starved for attention when your Nate isn't around?" A new voice cut in, the owner revealing herself as Daisy leaning over his shoulder offering the exasperated look a certain Triggermen guy wouldn't.
"Here I thought I was hiding my second worst addiction so well." Hancock said without a trace of shame before standing and discarding the cigarette.
Daisy adjusted the dusty box of merchandise in her arms, using that time to shake her head. "We've all seen you stare at him longingly, usually three times a day."
"Seven by my count." Triggermen Guy mentioned while casually stretching his fingers and examining them.
"At this rate, I'm probably better off getting hammered and shouting how I feel about him from the balcony like a normal person." Hancock thought out loud, he may have looked more serious than intended when he did it because Daisy removed a hand off the box to bury her face into.
"Don't assume public announcements of love were never attempted." Daisy mentioned, voice indicating her mind was traveling back a thousand or so years. "A concerning amount of romance stories believed that screaming wedding vows across the street was the ultimate way those tongue-tied by emotions could win over the object of their affection. If the whole supply being sold out was any indication, someone was touched."
"I would wait in violent rain for minutes if it meant hearing wedding vows." Triggermen Guy commented, feigning disinterest by checking if his shotgun was loaded. It wasn't loaded before?
Out of nowhere, the merchandise box rattled as it was set down. There was no reason for it, nor was it even attempted to be explained. Daisy simply stepped closer and folded her arms to complete a stern look.
"Look in my eyes." Daisy requested as simple as one could, perfectly still and letting no inflection inside her voice.
"Hey, I'm clean. For now." Hancock flinched slightly when he caught just one eye, and as words poured out his voice was stripped of inflection too. "I probably had more beer than I needed an hour ago, but the booze never harmed me."
"Tell me you wouldn't be embarrassed to traumatic levels shouting to an entire settlement about being in love."
Hancock thought about that for a minute, actually. He took his eyes off Daisy's, lifting his gaze higher in the general direction of the balcony he'd often rambled on and hoped somebody got something out of it. No one had to talk to him about embarrassment by public speaking – he never had the nightmare of being naked in the worst scenario...he would say if it didn't finally happen after his second or third appearance on the balcony. Two and three had the same reason for happening, they kind of blurred.
Hancock's eyes forcefully moved back to Daisy's, and he felt like he was being summoned into the void where no one would hear his screams. There was such temptation to walk away without replying, but that would merely be the non-verbal way of confirming her theory anyhow.
"I just feel like Nate wouldn't have to awkwardly piece together the fuck's going on if it's in public." Hancock admitted surprisingly easier than he expected, inflection back in his voice if that meant anything. "Yeah it could be embarrassing if other people don't play along and look busy in the background, but I'll take that risk. Slipping tongue in his mouth was a risk too, we got over that fast."
"If I had one hundred caps for each time..." Triggermen Guy trailed off in the background with a wistful sigh.
In the end, Daisy wore a look of pity more than anything as she stepped forward and squeezed Hancock's shoulder. "You won't get a discount on any surviving romance novels in my inventory. Though if you can afford it, they just might save your life."
People were starting to look their way after his shouting across the airport and mad rush. He'd always been a timid man, but that day he traded his nervousness in for determination as he stood in front of the woman he could either spend the rest of his life with or lose forever.
A loser from the lowest hole in the city could only dream of having a high class woman like Jane turn around at the sound of his shouting and drop her luggage with a booming thud. If there was anything wrong about running to meet each other, they forgot to care.
Once they were eye to eye, Joe had to catch his breath and calm his bursting heart. He opened his mouth, but he found himself staggering away and clutching his jaw when a powerful fist concealed by a fuzzy winter glove made contact.
That same fist uncurled and lifted, a warning this time as Jane's turquoise eyes filled with questions. Why did you leave on that magical night? Why come back when I'm to be going home? Was I stupid for returning your feelings?
Joe's highest priority was to make sure those eyes never cried over him. It pained him to see Jane's face fall like she was going to lose control again, so he threw his hand in his jacket pocket and fished out the ring.
"I've always ran away when life got serious, but I'm tired-"
"Found some salvageable wood." Nate managed to call out without a tone shift, unceremoniously dropping firewood in the pit judging by ensuing noise.
Hancock finally tore his gaze from the book, the fact he'd made himself comfortable under the half tent instead of disposing of the skeleton he pulled from the sleeping bag crashing into his mind. The victory against the book was only short-lived, he checked the faded page number and was vexed to see fifteen.
The book could easily fill out the rest of the time with pornographic adventures – hopefully – or changing focus to some other couple. Hancock wasn't invested in the story-telling aspect so much as Joe and Jane's interactions up to the drama.
The description made sure to hammer in how great their relationship was going, how love was blooming despite the difference in social class but it was amazing because love moves goddamn mountains. Alas they weren't married, so sex was off the table. Apparently, just holding hands during a minor problem and squeezing each other at every meeting could benefit a romantic relationship.
Hancock looked up at Nate a few feet away, face illuminated by a small fire while cooking the leftover molerat from lunch. It wasn't often Hancock was reminded his heart was actually beating without chems in his system, but he felt it when he caught the amber shade those pretty brown eyes acquired.
"Were you born fatally stupid?" The BS thoughts tried to halt Hancock's stroll to Nate. He was only barely tuned in as they grew desperate. "Go on like a moth to the flame. He's only going to stare afterward; it'll be awkward, mark my words. You really shouldn't- Don't ignore this!"
Nate looked up with a hint of curiosity, eyes tracking Hancock's movement until he crouched at his side. "Hey, it's going to be several minutes before the meat..." Nate's thought process seemed to crash and explode when Hancock experimentally pressed a hand to his chest.
The flames were still crackling, providing the only background noise. The occasional wild gunfire or rabid dog would have added to the atmosphere more, honestly.
Hancock assumed his own face mirrored Nate's, baffled, but he couldn't just pull away and pretend he was miraculously given his sanity back. He shouldn't have had to remind himself nothing could be awkward between them ever again after sex, but Earth was upside down and out of anyone's control.
Several seconds crawled by, and when the time was apparently right Nate reached for the hand over his chest and let their fingers curl together and stay like that, something that could be awkward if allowed to go on a minute longer than necessary.
"I have to be honest: I'm not familiar with this kind of foreplay." Nate, always focused on the important matters, admitted and steered them straight into awkwardness.
When Hancock was momentarily attempting to fix his brain's remaining thread of sanity, he looked up from their intimate finger contact to Nate's eyes. For just a second, one rare second, there was awareness in all that amber even if he didn't say anything else.
"Haven't you learned I get more out of being pinned down?" Hancock didn't expect an answer, quickly flashing a smile when Nate met his eyes too. "Yeah this isn't one of my dirtier ways to pass the time, but I think I'd rather save the energy for the garage on a rainy night."
"If these calluses and scars stimulate you that much, we can do this all the way back to Sanctuary." Nate said in a way a kind soul might describe as flirtatious, flexing his fingers.
Hancock's eyes wandered back to their hands, truly noticing what repairs and various injuries have done to perfectly preserved skin. When he tried to think back to the moment he stopped paying attention to the contrast in their appearances, he couldn't actually locate that one. But he didn't think it was because his brain was throwing out memories as it broke down.
"It's not normal if I say I want to do more of this, is it?" Hancock asked quickly, before rambling to intercept the nerve's escape. "No one's ever asked me point blank I wanted to hold hands under the stars, whatever people used to do before discovering there's not just two ways to fuck. So if it wasn't clear already, I'm diving into this blind."
Nate blinked several times, expression mostly neutral. There was no way to know what was running through his mind when that happened. If he thought anything negative, all Hancock could do was brace himself and wait.
The waiting time was cut short when Nate leaned in closer, eyes shut contently as his lips met Hancock's. Hancock's mind cast everything out, but just when he started to return with some tongue the very slight feeling on his mouth was gone as Nate reeled back.
"I've wanted to hear that from you for a while now." Nate confessed, actually looking sheepish as he moved a hand to the back of his neck. "You not punching me in the throat when I tried to flirt for the first time, yes that's how far back it goes."
A flash of the past entered Hancock's mind and left just as quickly, though he made an effort to stifle a laugh it must have been loud anyhow because Nate made a peeved expression. Though they probably should have focused more on the discovery his facial muscles worked, Hancock untangled one hand to rest move to his cheek and guide him close again.
"You have to understand, Nate – getting caught robbing someone, fumbling your way through a chat about morality and subsequently drinking a lot and commenting on how you imagine them without pants… Pretty sure romance died as far as the Commonwealth's concerned. But you have to make effort to get rid of me once I'm hooked."
"No, you're the one stuck with me." Nate said, eyes sparkling as if they weren't overwhelming enough. As if to outdo himself, he touched his forehead to Hancock's fondly. "The other night I was drunk when I said I love you, but I meant it. I would have preferred a better place and time, but I know I couldn't have said it any more wordy."
Hancock didn't mean to cringe when Nate said the L word so easily. There was no way Nate couldn't have felt that unless his face spontaneously went numb. Hancock refused to move until he was pushed or given more subtle indications the romance attempt was completely destroyed.
Several seconds passed by, and Nate didn't say anything more. He was the one to pull away, mostly because the flames nearby were dying and the dinner was as cooked as possible. When Nate crawled toward the pit and sat cross-legged to eat, Hancock joined him while his mind raced. There were just fragments of thoughts, it was too crowded in there for coherence.
Hancock was only at the beginning of the process to understand romantic relationships, so when he made the decision to slid closer to Nate and bump shoulders while he reached for some dinner too… It wasn't an excuse to touch him and hopefully bring more talking out of him. If his stomach had been trying to eat itself for, what, thirty years then hopefully it wasn't too late to save it.
By the time the last sparks in the pit fizzled and darkness surrounded their resting place, Nate was just chewing thoughtfully on what must have been pure fat. He'd stolen looks at Hancock like they were horrifically unprepared teenagers. On the surface.
The gears were turning in Nate's head, no doubt about that. Yes, he was usually among the most unreadable people Hancock had ever met. This time his forehead wrinkled with thought, triggering movement down his face with fingers hovering in front of his lips as if to hide what could have been a natural smile. As if Hancock would suffer a heart attack if he witnessed emotion twice in a month.
"Okay, I need to get something out of the way." Nate finally said, brushing his hand over Hancock's before standing. "It's going to be a long time before we're alone like this, and I don't want the opportunity to slip away."
While Nate began to pace, determined to find something worth staring at until he could process his own emotions, Hancock took the liberty of stretching out the hand he'd managed to slip a piece of jewelry on.
The ring was untouched by the dirt, dust and radioactive waste Nate dealt with on a daily basis. It was just as pleasant to look at as it must have been over two-thousand years ago in the glass case. It especially must have looked lovely on Nora's finger.
"It's optional." Nate spoke with more nervousness in his tone than Hancock ever heard from him. His back was still facing him, so if he looked it too he wasn't showing. "Hell, even before the end of the world people weren't required by law to be married. If you want, it can be purely symbolic. Maybe it can say how I feel better than my own tongue."
"You want me to have this." Hancock said slowly like he'd ever said those words before.
"I wanted to give you that ring for a long time, too. One morning I woke up after spending the night wondering if Nora would have wanted me to find someone else; we never got to have that conversation. But I like to think Heaven lets its population look over the clouds if they're not clumsy, and she knows..."
Hancock, in the midst of Nate's rambling, couldn't take his eyes off the ring. Ignoring the fact it managed to slide over destroyed flesh without getting stuck, how was he supposed to wear it and not feel like he was trespassing on something he didn't understand yet? Perhaps the most important question was: why did his chest feel like it was going to explode without anxiety involved?
"So..." Nate drawled, blatantly peeking over his shoulder. "We could spend all night going back on forth on whether or not I'm ready to do this again. I could pretend I actually give a fuck about our appearances. You could invite me to watch the stars, holding hands again; that's what I'm betting on, anyway."
If Hancock's tongue hadn't withered and killed all the loaded, stalling words by proxy- Come on, why did Nate have to say all this on the same occasion he decided to try that romance stuff outside of the remarks he made when they would get it on? He wasn't shocked into mute, no that would never happen. Impossible.
Nate was waiting for him to reply, and not doing so didn't exist as an option. He mercifully stopped looking his way, even though immediately afterward he tried pacing to either translate his restlessness or get it out of his system since the chem supply was low.
"Don't stop digging that grave; you were doing wonderful work." The BS thoughts couldn't help but flare up again. "Seriously, don't think too much about your next move. You're the replacement for someone better in his eyes regardless-"
"Nate," Hancock finally spoke up with enough energy that made him rise to his feet. "There's enough chaos in the world to worry about, and giving someone a harmless piece of jewelry shouldn't be thrown in that pile. I don't think I understand the symbolism you're offering, not yet. But when you've got the time to whisk me away for lessons, let me know; I've got so much fucking free time anyway."
"Oh, just fucking die."
Nate took his time swiveling, it felt like three tense seconds passed before he faced Hancock and stared with his typical stoic expression. It was either Hancock's words or being late to realize he hadn't taken the ring off, but the stoic look shattered to reveal the natural smile he pulled off best.
TBC
Hey, it's the author again. Before you throw what produce you will, I want to point out I'm not going to let this story sit up and collect dust just because it's not a oneshot thing. I don't intend for this story to make it past 3 chapters, and who knows? It might end in the next chapter if I feel comfortable with it.
Hell, this story probably doesn't need to go beyond 1 chapter at all. But I love the implications that go with being able to give the wedding ring to your love interest in-game, and I feel like they'd all have unique reactions to it if the romance thing was fleshed enough. But I get my romance fix from Bioware hijinks, so I'm not complaining.
Maybe I should have been ambitious with this story and have it be in the format of briefly touching on how I think each love interest would react to the wedding ring, but… *super fake throat clearing* Hancock, though. I don't want to say he's Best Love Interest when I personally think MacCready might as well be the unofficial canon one (based on the fact he can relate the most to the SS). But Hancock, as I said earlier, should be appreciated as something humanity doesn't deserve but recieved anyhow.
How's the story so far? What are the no doubt dozens of parts I should work on improving for future stories? Did the slice of life content make you want to throw chemicals in your eyes (though I don't know WHY people hate slice of life so much)? And above all else: did I fuck up Hancock's characterization? These are the questions that haunt me, and if you feel like it I'd love to hear your opinion. I know that fanfic authors have a shitty reputation for being way too sensitive and hysterical when given advice, but I promise you I've spent so long without advice to guide me I appreciate criticism. Of course, maybe I'm coming on too strong. You know what? I'm gonna stop now. *Awkward laughter all the way back to the coffin from earlier*