A/N: You'll know where I cue "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees.
A light curl of steam wafted from the tub that Charon eased himself into. He scrubbed at his arms and splashed water on his face, removing all evidence of guts, grime, and grotesque smell from his person after Gob had made note of it.
No offense, but you smell like a bunch of ferals getting it on in a Pulowski Preservation shelter on a hot day. Come meet me back up here after you get cleaned up and we'll…uhh…see what we can do.
The water browned fairly quickly, and he pulled the plug and walked up the stairs, naked and dripping, for his extra clothes.
Evelyn still had not left her room. He hesitated in peeking inside after her standing order for him not to enter…but, technically, he wouldn't be. He quickly popped the door open- she was sound asleep, and at some point she must have let the dog in, for he was curled at her feet.
Charon carefully left her to her dreams, and he began the walk back to the saloon wearing some fresh clothes and a strange feeling in his gut. He nearly dug in his heels the moment Gob began to make their way to Craterside Supply.
"No," Charon growled, and his scathing glare peeled the remaining skin from Gob's face.
Gob held on, wincing through the ire he was given. (He was used to it).
"L-Look, Moira's already agreed to help, so let's just see what-" the ghoul started a bit uneasily, feeling incredibly smaller still as Charon towered over him with his burning eyes.
Charon cut him off, rasping matter-of-factly, "She is insane."
Gob laughed, agreeing, "I know."
The bigger ghoul narrowed his eyes at the sign of Megaton's department store ever-so mocking him, and then he looked down at his large hands, turning them slowly to inspect every flaw, scar, and exposed vein he had to them. The tips of his fingers came up to lightly touch his face. Never before had his ghoulish deformities bothered him- it did not impair his duties to his employer, and therefore it was merely an unfortunate circumstance of surviving a nuclear holocaust. Now, after seeing her hesitation…
Charon curled his palms into fists, his brows steep like jagged cliffs as he glared at the side of Evelyn's ramshackle house on the hill.
Perhaps insane was what he needed.
Charon stomped past, rattling the entire catwalk with his sulk as he gnashed through his clenched teeth, "Let us get it over with."
They opened the door to the sight of Moira hovering over a petri dish, a pair of goggles snugged around her eyes and the tip of her tongue sticking out the side as she carefully pinched a dropper of some black liquid into it. It immediately burst into flames, and the panic was evident on her face as she snapped the goggles to her forehead in search of something to put them out.
"Oops! That must have been the secretion of the bloatfly glands," she muttered to herself as she busied around the store, and then she flitted her eyes up to the town's only ghouls, beaming them a wide smile and hitching a thumb back to the whirling inferno at her work station. "Just in time! It's almost ready!"
Charon immediately pivoted a 180 as Gob shut the door before he could escape, rasping loudly enough to be heard, "Uh, thanks for doing this."
Moira rummaged through a few things under her counter before lugging over a giant pot to clap down around the dish, snuffing the fire out instantly. She blew a whew! The pot was lifted away, and the critical study of her eye leaned over the tarry substance that had turned a pasty white, making her crow, "Perfect!"
Charon almost broke out in a sweat, and Gob muttered something along the lines of, can see you got this covered, and went to vacate the premises before Charon clamped a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stay with a friendly squeeze.
"G-guess I'll just stand over here," Gob gasped after Charon had released him.
"Alright, big guy!" Moira clapped her hands together and rubbed them excitedly as she motioned to his attire. "Go ahead and dress down so we can fit you in some new clothes!"
Charon gave Gob one final look, and the smaller ghoul just answered him with a faint nod. (Go on). With a mumble under his breath, he unbuckled his pants and began to strip…with nothing underneath.
"O-oh, there's a, um, curtain…" Moira began, but then she trailed off as both she and Gob just blinked at the sudden nudity, their heads tilting opposite ways as they simply stared. She then said, as though stating a very simple fact, "You are very…proportionate."
Moira's man slowly poked his head from around the corner of the shelf he was leaning against, eyeing Charon's goods with a blank face before he slightly pulled away his waistband and peered down at his own with a frown.
Charon scratched at his nuts, grousing, "May we continue?"
Moira was still gawking, and Gob cleared his throat and elbowed her in the side, croaking, "Moira!"
"Huh? Oh, right!" she nervously laughed, doing her best to avert her eyes as she grabbed a handful of mismatched pieces of clothing for him to catch. "Go ahead and put these on! It was the biggest size Crow had."
Charon grumbled as he began the task of shoving himself into trousers that were uncomfortably tight around the groin and showed a much-too-perfect outline of his cock as the bottom hems hugged his calves. He shook his head and moved on to the button-up shirt, only managing up to the third button from his neckline before he shrugged himself into the jacket. The shoes were mismatched, and one had a hole where his big toe wiggled through.
He turned to them, and Gob only smacked a hand to his forehead while Moira clapped with excitement. Charon grunted, slightly flexing, and he popped a button while ripping the seams of his coat. (At least now he could stand a little straighter).
"As they say, the clothes ate the man! Or, something like that…" Moira pointed to a chair for him to sit in. "Go ahead and just relax."
Charon sat down, squinting at the brush she dipped inside the experimental white paste.
She held it up for him to see. "It's my very own recipe, pretty neat, huh? Now- if at any point you start to exhibit signs of boils or your face begins to feel completely numb, don't worry too much, as it's only temporary side-effects until-"
Charon faced forward, his hands tightening into fists. "Just do it."
"Well, o-kay!"
The paste was thick, but he remained still as she slathered him like a drunken painter globbing colors on their canvas. He stared at Gob standing across, the bartender's eyes heavy with worry and brows ripe with concern.
"Now for the final touch!"
Moira placed something over his head, wiggling it into place as he brought up a few fingers to inspect what it was. A few thick curls of golden hair were sifted through.
"There! All done!" Moira beamed as she finished with the wig on his head. She handed him a small, cracked mirror. "Take a look and tell me what you think! Pretty good, huh?"
Charon blinked at his poor reflection. The blonde wig was long, almost to his shoulders, and it was too small for his rather large head and was sparse around his scalp, appearing stringy and disheveled. The strange powder she had caked on his face covered nearly every inch of skin- a stark contrast to the ghoulish remainder that was still exposed on his chest, hands, and legs. The dark, unsymmetrical eyebrows she had lined above his eyes were thick and stern.
"So?!" she asked at his elbow.
"She will like this?" Charon questioned.
"Of course she will! You look spectacular!" Moira beamed, and then she stood back to study him for a minute before she added, "Maybe try smiling, a bit more."
Charon stared at her.
Moira put her index fingers in the pits of her lips, shoving them up. "See, like this!"
His mouth twitched, and then he cracked his stern mouth into the tiniest hint of a smile. Gob recoiled in his peripherals…but he may have imagined it, for Moira only clapped her hands again and motioned to the door.
"Gosh, be careful on the way back down! We just might have every woman in Megaton looking to jump those- erm- proportional bones!"
Charon didn't care for the other women…but as for Evelyn-
"You can assure me this?" he asked with the utmost seriousness.
She grinned. "I guarantee it!"
Gob didn't say anything as he suddenly fell into a coughing fit, and Moira's mercenary merely stared at him with wide eyes as he left through the door.
Charon felt every eye of every person as he passed, and they did not look away even as he returned their stare as they normally would have. It made him feel…good, and he inwardly put a pep in his step as he returned to her house.
All of the smoothskin women gasped as he came close, their hands flying to their chests and their eyes immediately glancing down…and then they could only stand there in utter shock, turning their heads with him as he kept forward. A couple of settlers were tending to a lame brahmin, and they all looked up at his passing, falling completely silent. Charon turned his head and gave a small smile, (for practice), and one man fell backward in a dead faint. (He may have just been dead; he wasn't too sure).
Charon entered the house. The robot short-circuited in a pile of mechanical limbs on the floor after turning its three optics on him, and Evelyn turned from the empty fridge to see what the commotion was about.
She fell on her ass at first sight of him, her eyeballs bulging. "Holy shit… CHARON?!"
He nodded. She was impressed.
He smiled.
It must have charmed her, for she slapped a hand to her mouth and trembled, her skin blanching. He deduced she must not be able to contain her excitement at the sight. The sound of her stomach growling reminded him of their lack of food.
"Shall we go to Gob's?" he rasped.
He did feel good.
There was only a nervous thought in her head, giggling to herself, what the fuck?!
Evelyn patted her damp (but clean) skin with her towel, slowly looking up from the starchy fabric (which scratched more than it did dry) at the open doorway of her room where Charon was quietly standing. Dogmeat wouldn't stop sniffing the ghoul's butt, cock his head, give a whine, and then resume sniffing him some more as though he couldn't differentiate whether he was a friend…or some terrifying foe.
Her voice came out weak and fluttery. "Um, may I please get dressed?"
Charon nodded, spinning on his heel and proceeding down the stairs. She stared at the newly formed rip stretching up the ass of his pants.
The tips of her fingers rubbed stars inside her eyes as she mentally groaned and wondered just what the fuck had decided to zip itself up inside Charon's body and wear him around like a nightmarish freakshow from a horror comic.
After stepping into her simple green jumpsuit and lacing up her boots, she met the ghoul at the bottom landing, who was still waiting on her to present him to the general public…assuming he already hadn't made a spectacle of himself. She briefly wondered how it was he hadn't been simply shot.
"...um, ready," she said in a small voice.
The ghoul's mouth painstakingly curled into a smile- if she could define it as smiling, for it was more akin to the edges of a dead leaf withering up, and she would have thought him to be constipated. Charon held over his hand for her to take, and she blinked, her heart skipping every beat as she felt her soul leave her body and then rush back down her throat before she could permanently expire from this plane of existence.
Oh God, he's waiting on you- just take his hand, just do it- do it!
With all the past courage from facing down a deathclaw under a cannibal's roof, she took a deep breath and intertwined their fingers together, both ghoul and girl (and dog) trudging up the hillside for the bar. Everyone stared, too stupified to say anything…which would have been for the best, for Charon still had his knife at his belt. She glanced up at him, surprised to see him utterly at ease and, dare she might assume, happy.
They entered the saloon, which was thankfully empty of patrons for a late afternoon. The pair took ownership of their usual stools in the corner, and she met the eyes of the bartending ghoul (who so indiscreetly avoided them like the plague). Gob and Nova left for the back room, and Evelyn rose from her seat.
She turned to address Charon's raised painted brow. (It wasn't even aligned with the other one!)
"I have to ask Nova something. I'll be right back, okay?"
He nodded, and then he watched her with his unblinking stare as she disappeared to the back room with the others.
Evelyn intruded on their space and hissed under her breath, "Was this your idea?!"
Gob rasped, "No! It was all his. He said he was worried that you, erm, didn't like him as a ghoul, anymore."
"What?! Why would he think that?! I never said that!"
"Yeah, I figured as much, smoothskin. I know you ain't a bigot."
"I mean now look at him. He's horrifying!"
Gob grunted, crossing his arms in pensive thought. "I think Moira went a little too heavy with the brushes…"
"You think?!"
Nova shook her head and went to light a cigarette. "Big dick, alright."
"Nova!"
The three of them peered around the corner to look over at the lonesome abomination waiting patiently in his seat. Charon felt their eyes and whipped his head around to catch their staring, his wig getting left behind in a few places. It covered his right eye, and he brought a finger up to part it to look at them unobstructed.
Evelyn's stomach growled loudly enough to be mistaken for an atomic bomb.
Gob rubbed his hands rather uneasily and motioned to her place back at the end of the bar. "It'll be on the house, smoothskin."
Evelyn sat beside the big ghoul, her eyes at her feet as she busily wracked her brain for any mention she gave that would make Charon feel this sort of way…wait, was that his toe-?
"Do you like it?" Charon asked, reeling her back from her memory files.
Evelyn glanced up, afraid. He smiled again, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. "U-um…well…"
"Here we go!" Gob rasped extra loudly, spinning two plates of something hot their way. "Drink?"
Charon shook his head as Evelyn blurted, "A shot- tequila!"
Charon blinked at the enthusiasm as she tilted the rim of her shot glass back and took it all in one go, and he shifted his weight as he turned to the other ghoul and suddenly rasped, "I will have one, as well."
Evelyn gaped at him. Charon- drinking?!
Before the big guy could expect the answer to his question, she dove in her fixings and shoved her mouth full, her eyes continuously straying to the outline of his massive cock in his pants- it was as though someone had put a python in a vacuum sealed bag. Charon took his shot, not betraying any reaction to the alcohol, and he swiftly turned in his seat (with his wig flying around his shoulders) to face her, and he again…smiled.
Both Gob and herself winced.
Charon deadpanned, "Do you wish to jump my proportional bones?"
Her second shot was spat with all the force of a fire hose on the counter. When she merely wiped at her lips and shared a look with Gob, an idea popped into her head, and she shyly put her hands in her lap and meekly said, "Do you want a bath?"
Charon gave her a weird look, rasping, "I already have."
She leaned forward, saying in a lower voice that only he could hear, "Not to bathe."
The ghoul looked over her head as he processed her words, and then he sprang so sharply from his seat that the remaining buttons of his shirt were flung at her face and neck. He turned to Gob and rasped with plain conviction, "Tell Moira she has my thanks."
Gob dumbly waved them goodbye as he wiped down her mess with a rag, calling at their backs, "Uh…sure."
Dogmeat barked at their heels, feeling the buzz of excitement in the air that seemed to vibrate around the big guy as he marched them straight to the house and slammed the door shut with the bolts in place. He then whirled around, and they both just stood there, neither of them undressing first before the other.
"Shall I remain dressed?" Charon rasped, and she felt her heart break at how sincere he was.
Evelyn rubbed at her scarred arm while he just scratched his fingers through the wig on his scalp, and they both looked to the tub with doubtful resignations.
"You know, Charon," she began with hesitance, and she felt her knees shake at the way he keyed in every single syllable leaving her lips. "I like you…as a ghoul."
He stared at her.
She tried again, her cheeks warm and belly tight. "I like you, as you."
He blinked. "I do not understand."
Evelyn unzipped her jumpsuit and began to shrug out of the sleeves, holding up her left arm for him to take notice of. "I haven't been avoiding sex because of you. I've been avoiding it because of this."
He squinted at it. "Are you in pain?"
"No!" she rushed. "I-I've been embarrassed of it…cause, it's, um…it's ugly."
He repeated with a flat tone, a statement more than a question, "It is ugly?"
"Well, yeah." She turned her head to the side, now feeling silly and stupid. "I didn't want you to find me ugly for it."
She fiddled with the ring on her finger whilst Charon just stood there, digesting this information she had given him.
He finally rasped, "That is proof you have survived."
Evelyn raised her head, too stunned to speak.
Charon unshouldered his jacket and ripped away the remainder of his buttonless blouse, pressing two fingers to a jagged scar at his abdomen- the scar he had given himself when he had dug out the bullet from within.
"You either survive, or you don't," he said firmly. He then gave her a look. "That is not ugly."
Evelyn gave a wobbly smile, and then she continued to strip as he did the same. The white paste was washed away, with the wig tossed to the high banister up above, and she felt every doubt melt through her lips as he pressed his own against them.