the pier.

[doubletap]

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.

Comments

[goodfight]

In an instant, Neil's staring at Alex, eyes widening in surprise. The topic proves unexpected as it's the kind of thing they have never really discussed. It sinks in, eventually, and he begins to looks rather uncomfortable, as though the attention to himself is somewhat unwanted.

"Just read a lot," he says, voice subdued. "When I have downtime. In Vault 101, I had access to their Pre-War holotapes and books. Right now, I have the media archives of a local library to go through." Earned from fulfilling one of the Wasteland Survival Guide's checklists.

[doubletap]

Alex shifts up to watch him blatantly, looking interested despite--or in spite of--the topic. Expression open, he offers, "You know the Followers actually have a good bed of knowledge from finding pre- and post-war stuff. There's some at the Mormon Fort, but if we're going to Cali, we can stop at their other location and go through that as well. Julie would probably write us a letter of reference or something. Otherwise--"

Step carefully.

"Otherwise, the Lucky 38 has a bunch of technical manuals and data entries to go through. Probably wouldn't be as fun to read through as the Followers' knowledge, but it's still something. You should have told me that you like reading. I would have been piling books on you."

[goodfight]

He can't help it, the soaring level of interest. Neil can't stop mulling over the possibilities presented, the wealth of knowledge buried beneath the Followers and the Lucky 38, even as the very idea threatens to choke him with disquiet. As he moves to respectfully turn down the proposal.

"It's." He swallows thickly. "Unnecessary. Have a lot on our plate right now. Besides, still have stuff left. To read, you know." The words trail, falling into tense silence.

[doubletap]

Alex blinks in confusion at the awkward rejection. It was unnatural, the manner in which Neil spoke, but it makes Alex wonder.

There's something in him that wants to comfort. He moves nearly opposite.

Hand drifting down Neil's torso, Alex runs his fingers through the hair at the base idly. "...So what we've learned from this is that you don't like being given things. Which I already knew from everything in the Mojave." Armor, weapons, a place to live, food--and all of Neil's fighting to go with it. "But you should let me offer it anyway. It doesn't cost me anything, and you enjoy it."

[goodfight]

A hand lingering in compromising places is a tricky matter. Along with the observation given, Neil's too affected to even look at Alex properly.

He will, however, reply. There is nothing here that says that he shouldn't. "Would rather earn things," the younger man mutters. "Don't want to be a charity case." Would rather scrape and earn his living than glide through it because someone just so happens to take pity on him.

A part understands. This isn't the reason Alex offers what he does, but it's a suspicion that he holds. A fear he keeps close to his chest. That it might just be that simple of a reason for the man who currently holds weight in New Vegas.

[doubletap]

Alex's hand keeps idly moving, fingers tracing the base. He shifts his weight, his other hand coming to touch Neil's chin. "You've never been a charity case, Wanderer. You're too alive for that."

[goodfight]

Alex touches in different ways, and that discomfort, that disquiet, turns quickly to mourning, pulling at the skin around the corners of his lips, around his dark eyes. Neil glances away, to the bare wall this time, before looking back at Alex. The motion's enough--just enough--for the emotion to wipe itself away.

"How 'bout I talk to Julie myself?" questions Neil, after a pause. "That's probably fair." As a kind of compromise, a halfway point between charity and reward.

[doubletap]

"Sure thing," Alex answers easily, the hand holding Neil's chin slipping away. The one lower goes back to shifting through hair. "Though I would like to come, too, when you find out where it is."

[goodfight]

Acknowledgement. A simple addendum. These Neil can work with. "Yeah, of course." It is only fair, and who is Neil to deny Alex passage into a place that isn't his to begin with?

(Unlike--)

He inhales sharply, his chest expanding to clear out any thought.

[doubletap]

Cute. The kid is cute. Alex leans to kiss his cheekbone. "By the way," Alex Seattle Geer adds. "I like you naked like this."

[goodfight]

Perhaps it's the aimlessness, the irregularity. The quiet affection when his head's broken and mending from another man's efforts. Neil flushes brightly. He thinks his fever might have piqued and ignores the obvious. "Why's that?" he asks.

[doubletap]

In response, Alex curls a hand around Neil lower down, then slips to trace the inside of Neil's thighs instead. A question Alex didn't expect. The blushing is honest. Perhaps Alex should be honest as well.

"There's not as much distance," he states after a moment.

[goodfight]

Another day, he might have fought off the wanted reactions and the blatancy presented. Today, Neil allows them. Permits himself to exist alongside the truth of things. He releases a quiet sigh at the hand around him and slipping down.

"You said you followed me--" As stated outside of President Dave's territory. "--because you wanted to be closer to me. You want to be something to me." Is that still true?

[doubletap]

The sigh causes his body to react. It doesn't matter that Alex knows nothing will happen right now--not like that. His body still wants that conclusion--this person. So he ignores it. Acts like nothing happened.

"...Why do you think," he starts quietly. "That I waited for you on that pier?"

[goodfight]

The result is felt, clear as sin, but as they are speaking, Neil remains as he is. They are speaking, and there exists only one thing to say.

"For over a month," he returns. "That's insane. Everyone else would have left after a couple of days." Given up on him. "So I'm very sorry for making you wait. I won't do that again."

[doubletap]

There is something in this. Something that Alex cannot shift gears and turn into humor. The chance is there ("Well, I never said I was sane~").

He lets it slip by.

"You won't," he echoes. "Are you promising to stay with me?"

[goodfight]

There is something. Something that stings and burns at the tip of his tongue, but something he must give nevertheless.

"Yeah," Neil murmurs. "Something like that." Until life shifts in its ever-changing state.

[doubletap]

His body pulses against Neil's thigh (against his will). He ignores it. Ignores it and leans closer, his hand slipping back up to cup Neil's head--

He kisses him--lips and tongue and teeth and want.

[goodfight]

A hand cradles his head. Another's body and lips press closer his in want, and Neil can only take the gestures. Accept his affections. There's nothing else until life shifts in its ever-changing state.

There's only a meager promise. An apology given a beat later than was due.

[doubletap]

Out of nowhere, Alex chuckles against Neil's lips, breathless. "You're supposed to be resting," he chides.

[goodfight]

A beat passes as Neil attempts to make sense of the statement, of that reaction. He finally blinks, wishing he could shrug in the usual dramatic fashion. "This isn't resting?" he says, feigning ignorance.

For a beat only. "I think I can try to sleep for a bit," is the continuance, serious this time.

[doubletap]

Here, Alex will give an exceedingly familiar look. "It becomes the very opposite of resting."

He shifts away, leaning again on an elbow, keeping his other hand resting on Neil's hip. "Do you want to, though?"

[goodfight]

Neil snorts, or what counts as snorting given his weakened state.

At the query, however, he turns again toward the ceiling, eyelids fluttering against the dim lighting. "No," he admits. "But it doesn't matter. I'm going to sleep eventually." At some point, he will have to go back to Hell.

[doubletap]

As if he can't stop touching Neil, Alex reaches out again, to trace Neil's jaw. Maybe it's because the kid isn't fighting. Maybe it's because Neil isn't hiding things or being pissed off. It's nice. Alex wants it, and there's some kind of loss in thinking about what spawned all this.

"Well," he says. "I can leave you to sleep, or I can tell you a story, I guess." Something to distract from the nightmares in Neil's brain.

[goodfight]

His heart drums at the hand moving against his jaw, at the choice Alex presents. Neil's head desires the chance of a story, an ancient indulgence, while his propriety works overtime to come up with a way to request it without sounding...well, pathetic.

The attempt fails. Spectacularly. "Story please," is the instant response.