abstracts | Alternative Methods.

Here, Neil fully opens his eyes, dark-brown irises fixing completely on Alex. Sleepiness lessens somewhat as he thinks about Alex. Considers what he's learned about the intricacies of being together.

So he fucking flirts. Yeah, that's right. He hasn't been around Alex in days, and he doesn't know what some of that coming talk will bring. "Is that a come on, Mr. Geer?" Neil asks honestly. "Because I'm open to that if you are."

His body heats and reacts obviously. "Shit," he murmurs. "You own me entirely, you know that?"

Despite himself, Neil smiles affectionately, a detail that's becoming more and more frequent as the days pass. "The opposite," he protests without heat. "You've managed to get completely under my skin, old man." Affecting without effort.

...Yes, he would prefer to be inside Neil-- Er, wait. No. That's not something to say at this point.

He slips his arms back around Neil, one pressing his hips down as Alex presses upward. Still, he only nuzzles, even at the clothed contact. "...All right, let's make a decision and stick to it." He nuzzles more, kissing Neil's temple. "Sex, sleep, or speech?"

At the contact, Neil shivers minutely. At the question, he grins.

"If we're talking about which order," he says lightly, "sex, sleep, then speech sounds pretty good."

"Fuck," he breathes, because what is this? Seriously, is he going to have to give Arcade a fruit basket or a prostitute, because seriously. Neil has been progressively and more steadily affectionate, but offering up sex like this--

But the whole hanging out with Arcade thing makes him remember the reason why. His reactions slow. "You sure? We can try something else if you want. I know you said it's hard to live afterward sometimes."

"We have time." Time to explore and experiment. There would be nothing new until they've properly talked shop. Besides, Neil Park would rather the intensity he's had before. What Richards' had talked about.

Neil's grin abates, slipping into an easy smile. "I know what I said, but right now, I want what we normally do."

The statement of time makes his heart beat faster. The declaration of want heats and settles him. His hands tighten on Neil, and he draws Neil back down into a heated kiss.

The dog will probably wake up, and ED-E may or may not leave the room, but Alex doesn't really care at this point. Neil came back to him seemingly more whole, and after the work Alex had set himself to this week, this is something healing for him. Something wanted.

"...I just want you," he states, breathless, when they break for air. "Only you."

They kiss with more heat, more intensity, and Neil holds onto Alex as if letting go is not an option. When they break and Alex speaks, the younger slips a hand through the man's hair. "I want you," Neil confesses, "more than anything in my life."

It's not as if Alex has forgotten what took place in Vault 7. That's not it. It's only that the memories of the event, the intensity, faded, like most things do. It's been nearly three weeks since they've been back to the Mojave, from the vault of truth and misguided tour of California. And after the initial couple of days, Alex had things to check on in Vegas, and Neil had to sell some more of the items he brought back from the Capital. It wasn't that they weren't spending time together--there was just a couple of things for them to take care of.

Then when Alex finished his stuff, Neil went to visit Arcade and those two went on a week long trip. So Alex started something he's been putting off: Finishing laying to rest the inhabitants of the Hidden Valley bunker and cleaning out the rubble from the remains. It was tiring physically and exhausting emotionally. It also made him return to his prior mindset: That despite friends and those closer, the things most affecting on him would be his and his alone to carry.

Neil would deny that.

Deny it and remind Alex, through kind touches, offers of want, and reiterations of commitment. It's something new, something hard to grasp, but it's there. Something permanent, right in his grasp.

Not something shining in the sand.

(He thinks to tell him then, about the nightmares that started since Vault 7. About the city shining between the dusty cliffs, about the faceless people welcoming him back home. He thinks to tell him-- But he swallows it. It's too much. Not right now.)

Alex breathes out, leans up to rest his head against Neil's. The intensity doesn't fade, but it shifts, becomes less sexual. "...I know I offered sex, but can I tell you something right now?"

Neil blinks at the shift, mildly surprised. Somewhat caught off-guard after murmuring his affection. "Of course," he says.

Of course, Neil says, and Alex drowns in these feelings for him.

"This past week I haven't been in Vegas," he starts. "I've been in Hidden Valley."

Hidden Valley. It's a bunker, Neil knows. Was a bunker, belonging to the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. And Alex Seattle Geer, in a choice between them and the welfare of the region, chose the latter. In that second whirlwind tour of the Mojave, he let Neil Park bear witness to the remnants of that choice.

Neil hasn't thought about it since. Not due to lack of care or curiosity, of course. No, to Neil, Hidden Valley is an Alex story, its judgments reserved solely for those involved. He had never thought they would be touching on the subject again, and at the time, he had offered a sentence that was only short and achingly sweet.

"It's something I understand."

But Alex brings it up again, and Neil thinks it's hardly a wonder that the man seems exhausted.

"Ah."

Alex lays his head back down on the bed and laughs without amusement. Ah. That sort of sums it up, doesn't it?

"Maybe I was putting it off. I'm really irresponsible, you know? But I stuck to it this time. Finished... Finished cleaning up everything."

Rubble and bodies both.

So in that week Neil ran around with Arcade, Alex had gone to Hidden Valley. Neil wonders why he couldn't think to stand by. Why he didn't follow his person to that place, even as the answer's staring at him in the face.

Alex would not have went if Neil had been around.

"...Wouldn't call you irresponsible. That takes time to finish." To face adequately.

He looks over Neil's face, to watch the pock marked ceiling instead. "It's heavy," he murmurs.

The weight of it.

"...Think I thought it'd lessen when I was done. It didn't. Not at all."

Neil watches. Only ever watches.

"...It's heavy," he quietly agrees.

He glances back to Neil and attempts a smile. Reaches an arm out to point at a medium sized cloth bag. "Each and every one accounted for."

Neil probably remembers. Alex's almost neurotic task at finding all of the holotags. The reference now only reminds him of that time. And that time in the Capital as well.

"...I had wanted to... give them to Veronica, I think. But I don't know if I could ever tell her what I did. So I killed your family, but brought you their jewelry?"

He swallows, once. "...I really don't know if I can tell her."

His eyes grudgingly leave the sight of Alex to look over at the aforementioned bag. It is likely filled to the brim with holotags, each listing the names of those dead and gone. Neil, too, doesn't know how you would tell someone that kind of news.

However. "Eventually, she'll know." No matter the circumstances, no matter the reasoning, no matter who or what was or wasn't watching, it tends to come back. Tends to creep up at the most unexpected time. "I guess it's a matter of if you want her to find out from you."

It's an obvious truth. Nothing is ever truly hidden, and yet--

Again, he swallows, looks to the ceiling then brings his gaze back down to Neil. "I keep collecting those holotags," he says, trying for humor and falling entirely short. "Here, in the east. I keep trying to keep the people that I destroy. How stupid is that."

"Not stupid."

For the same reason Alex finds the task to be heavy. "You know the weight. You keep them to remember," Neil explains, eyes still fixed on the bag. "It's stupid to forget. To willingly push away what you caused."

Alex winces at the last. Closes his eyes entirely, body stiff. "I've caused a lot of ruin. Lot of destruction. Starting to think..."

That he's done nothing good at all.

He thinks to say something, to lessen it or joke, but he just leaves it there, hanging, his eyes still closed.

Neil falls to silence. He does not give simplistic retorts nor does he offer consolation. There is no point in denial or comfort; one cannot get by on such things, not in the wasteland.

But there is the truth. The simple fact of things. Neil looks over at Alex, expression unfathomable. The words rolling around in his mind are not easy to say.

"You saved me." A pause. "Three others have said the same. Ruin comes with the territory--" With the wastes. "--but that isn't everything about you.""

Alex blinks open his eyes. "Did I though? Really?"

Save you.

Neil does not smile. He does not shift. He stays only perfectly still.

"Without you," he gives, "I would have gone to the Pacific and drowned."

Alternative Methods.

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