abstracts | the pier.

Let him just say it now--the kid had a lot of problems.

I mean, not really a surprise or anything--Alex had found him dried out in a desert, for crying out loud--but god damn.

Let’s recap.

Alex Seattle Geer found himself in love with a Vault brat from the Capital Wasteland with a daddy complex the size of Hoover Dam. Said kid loves him back--sometimes. Said kid would probably rather put ~~another~~ bullet between Alex’s eyes rather than spend time with him, and didn’t this just go to show it. Neil leaves to check up a rumor, said he’d be back shortly--shortly became two days and by then Dogmeat was back, meaning Neil took off somewhere he was worried the dog would get hurt at. Two days turn into two weeks and counting, and by then, Alex has tracked Neil’s steps, found the fucking pier, the fucking tool of a woman looking for her child, and all of the pieces are too easily placed.

Neil left for Point Lookout. And Alex, ED-E, and Dogmeat are left hanging in the wind.

Alex has been fucking camping on the dirty sand and shit next to that pier, waiting for that stupid kid to come back on that stupid ferry the woman told him about. Tobar the fucking Ferryman, and Alex feels like shooting the asshole just for submitting to Neil’s request. Probably not the guy’s fault, but-- Hell. Yeah. He didn’t traipse all over the goddamn country just to be left in the dust. Is the kid even coming back? Who fucking knows.

Alex will just.

Wait here.

Until Neil comes back.

Yeah, that’s not pathetic at all.

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"Sometimes," he says, charmed by the small show of discourse. He brushes Neil's hands away and continues the slow motions of undressing, slipping the upper garments off one by one. His fingers trail over bare skin. "Sometimes I'd rather just do nicer things to you."

Things that are slow and saturating, things that can't be done if one's partner is mostly adverse to their connecting.

The help is appreciated, and unlike the present topic of conversation, Neil does not resist. He simply looks up at Alex, his dark eyes jumping between glazed over and mildly alert. Again, something moves within him.

"...Sorry," he gives gently. "I'm a...horrible guy." He lacks what others may label as kindness, especially to those who most deserve it.

Alex snorts, shaking his head. "You're not," he says simply. "Nothing close to it."

He shifts to crouch, undoing buckles and laces on shoes, and pulling those off along with socks. All of these clothes, Alex decides cheerfully, are going to be burned.

Neil can't help the weak chuckle at the dispute. "After this." A hand gesture. "Dunno." Not many can say he wasn't horrible after putting his lover through this.

Everything becomes lighter and heavier at once, and it's a wonder he's still sitting up in some way. "I wore...tribal wear," he says suddenly, the non-sequitur fitting smartly in his mind. "Made...that swamp...bearable."

Dropping the shoes on the ground, he stands. "Tribal wear, huh?" he wonders, keeping it light. "Must have been showing a lot of skin, then. Too bad I wasn't there to see it."

He pats the gurney once. "Wanna lay down for me? It'd be easier to get your pants off that way instead of standing for it."

He makes a complicated face before breaking out into a strained grin. "Pervert," gives Neil, who goes to lay down on the gurney as instructed. "That...shit...wasn't as revealing...as the slave...outfit."

In the Pitt, that is.

Alex looks up sharply, then tries to glance down, continue for casual behavior. He starts to undo Neil's pants, and wishes they were in a different scenario. "...You wanna tell me about that?"

Did you dress as a slave, or were you a slave? How much does Alex really not know?

He must have caught Alex's attention with that, albeit Neil's mind cannot process which part struck the other man. "Pretended to be a slave. To find--" He swallows, finding it suddenly more difficult to speak. "--a cure for...a disease. In Pittsburgh. Long story..."

Alex watches Neil, and he wishes to whatever god cares to listen that his kid isn't going through this right now. He leans down, presses his lips to Neil's stomach--licks the skin there. Retardedly, in some fucked up way, it calms him. "...Tell me later," he says, straightening, moving to edge off the pants Neil's wearing.

"You can owe me some stories, right?"

Fever turns affection into comfort, and Neil sighs an exhale at the mouth on his stomach. "Yeah," he gives. There is a pause, a brief consideration, before he speaks again.

"...Want to...request...something selfish..." says Neil in-between wheezing breaths.

Alex finishes tugging off the pants, adding them to the pile of garbage on the ground. When Neil continues to speak, Alex looks to him, eyebrow cocked interest. "Anything, Neil."

Anything. Awesome. It's enough to give him strength to continue, to lay his want before another in hope that it will be fulfilled. Just in case. "That place... The Pitt. If something...happens... Look for...a kid. Name's Marie." She should be four by now. "Make sure...she's okay. Please." His eyes widen, pain swirling behind the dark.

The request by itself raises a thousand issues, but there's no point in questioning right now. Not this moment. This is a need, being shown to the air, and there is no damn need to reject it. Alex leans over Neil on the gurney, a hand on either side of the bed, around Neil's shoulders. "Of course, kid. I got it. You know I finish a job once I take it.

"But--" He continues, moving a hand to touch Neil's chin. "I'm going to be taking you with me there, got it?"

Alex demonstrates faith that the saints would envy, and it fills Neil with sorrow. Overwhelms him utterly. He cannot resist-- Cannot tell Alex that there is a sliver of doubt somewhere in the recess of his mind.

"Yeah," he murmurs, gratitude and sadness mingling. "Thanks. Thank you."

An extended moment. A beat of time. Alex watches, and after a moment, shakes his head. "Love you, kid," he says easily.

Moves to pick him up off the bed.

the pier.

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