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Reeled in With a Bullet in the Back

Summary:

James and MacCready doing what they do. Killing things and being cool while doing it.

In reality, it's their journey of being companions.

Notes:

Near the end of this, I caught the flu, which wasn't fun, and never again will I want to be hot and shiver at the same time.
This is my longest oneshot. Believe it? It's true. Total bitch to write, about two months of on and off, but I'm mostly proud of it. I'm so happy to have this bitch finished, I'm posting it unedited. Some parts have been, most haven't.

Enjoy.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

MacCready looked up from the floor that he had been glaring at since Winlock and Barnes left, to the sound of booted footsteps drawing near. An odd looking man stepped in and he immediately stood up straighter, hand going to his rifle strap out of habit as he took the stranger in more clearly. He was wearing a mismatched assortment of road leathers and raider armor, giving off the look that he was short on caps and couldn't afford better things, which made MacCready’s eyes narrow in suspicion, hoping the man wouldn't try to get his services for free. With all this there was a little nagging in the back of his head, trying to tell him something.

 

The man stopped about two feet away, showing off his couple inch height advantage, and bringing attention to his black hair, and strangely well-kept facial hair.

 

“And who're you?” MacCready asked, letting go of his rifle strap and crossing his arms, widening his stance.

 

The man just grinned, but in a sardonic kind of way. “Name's James. Now, I'm looking for a man of the name MacCready, that wouldn't happen to be you, would it?” the man - James, he corrects, said.

 

After his little discussion with Winlock and Barnes, he was still a bit suspicious, however harmless the man appeared. Appearances are fooling.

 

“What's it to ya?” he responded, raising an eyebrow, challenging James.

 

“I came here looking for a merc to help me with a little job, and the nice mayor of this here town pointed me here, saying you'd be here,” James said easily, shifting a little with a grimace, betraying an older injury. Showing a weakness. MacCready frowns at this, wondering if it was intentional.

 

“What kind of job?” he asked warily, eyeing the man, not all of it out of caution, he realises with a mental scowl.

 

“I know where Kellogg is, and I intend to kill him,” the man put simply, shrugging with a calm face, but the fire in his eyes betrayed his calm expression.

 

“Not that Kellogg isn't a bad person and hasn't done his fair share of crimes, but what's your reason?”

 

“He shot my wife and kidnapped my son,” James says drily.

 

MacCready simply blinked in surprise. Maybe they weren't too different. “Alright.”

 

This time it was James’ turn for surprise, but the look quickly morphed into a real grin, showing off his white teeth. That's the moment it clicked.

 

“You're a vaultie, aren't ya?” MacCready asked, but his voice was certain.

 

“Yeah, how’d you guess? I'm not wearing the blue suit, not that stupid. What gave it away?” The other man surprisingly didn't sound angry, he sounded curious.

 

People liked to discount how smart MacCready was due to his lifestyle, his job. They never really stuck around long enough to see him shine.

 

“What first struck me as odd was the mismatched clothing, most people find a set and stick with it. Another was how well groomed you were. What tipped me off though, was how white your teeth were. No one's teeth are like that, personal hygiene to that extent is uncommon. Nice job not dying, though,” MacCready said with his own grin, smug. Being in this kind of business, even world, this long, learning to read people was a must.

 

“At least I wasn't being too obvious,” James hummed, leaning back against a wall, observing MacCready himself.

 

“I'm not cheap, two hundred and fifty caps, no arguin’ “ he said, thinking back to Duncan with the slightest of hitches in his breath.

 

“Two hundred and a drink and we have a deal,” James bargained, flashing that grin of his.

 

MacCready huffed and thought it over for a moment before agreeing with a scowl. “I'll take that drink now, by the way.”

 

“As I expected,” he mused, leading them both back into the bar area. “We'll have a drink, then I'll book a room at Rexford inn for the night. Sound like a plan?”

 

“Yeah, s'long as you're paying,” retorted MacCready.

 

James just waved down the bot and ordered two Nuka Cola's, sliding a a few caps to it. Once they got their drinks, he pulled out the two hundred for MacCready in a sack and handed them over. “You'll probably do something better with those than I would have,” he said quickly, sipping his Cola determinedly.

 

MacCready gingerly took the stash and tucked them away into a safe little pocket, thinking about how he was just that much closer to saving his son.

 

They sat in silence, listening to Magnolia croon into the mic while people talked on the sofas a little behind. It didn't take long before they were finished, and saw them both leaving the Third Rail during the dead of night in silence, walking down the street to the hotel’s red fluorescent sign.

 

The usual chem dealer was inside, harassing any passersby and them as they walked by towards the front desk.

 

“If you're not here for a room, get out,” the woman said with a growl, probably thinking about MacCready's record and that James was new and not to be trusted.

 

“One room, please,” James said cheerfully ignoring her previous comment.

 

She huffed and narrowed her eyes. “That'll be ten caps.”

 

James handed them over with a small wince, feeling how light his pockets were now.

 

MacCready noticed, pretended not to.

 

“Top floor, last one on the right,” she said with a pointed tone. The two of them nod and set off up the stairs.

 

Three minutes later saw them throwing their packs on the floor and collapsing onto the bed, James first, then shortly after MacCready followed. They both passed out within five minutes, loud snoring filling the room.

 

______

 

It's after they kill Kellogg that MacCready tells James about his past with the Gunners, and how Winlock and Barnes were still harassing him, cheeks a little pink in embarrassment.

 

James takes in all of MacCready and tilted his head with a thoughtful hum. “M'sure you had a reason that you aren't telling me. Yeah, I'll help, no problem. You’ve helped me this far, I believe you earned this.”

 

MacCready nearly sagged in relief, not realizing he’d been silently hoping for James’ approval.

 

“Ah- thanks. I don't know how I could repay you,” he said bitterly, thinking how he really didn't want to use his precious caps on this, even though he knew he would if he had to.

 

“No need, being forced to follow after my dumb ass is repayment enough,” he laughed, opening the door back to the commonwealth, both of them blinking to adjust to the harsh sunlight.

 

“Thanks. Didn't wanna have to sell my sh- stuff, to pay you back,” he admitted, huffing a little after at the slip. James glances at him in curiosity, but thankfully doesn't ask any questions. MacCready wasn't quite ready to answer that one.

 

______

 

MacCready stood on top of the elevator platform, aiming at the gunner in power armor, James had broken his helmet, so his sights were set there. He took a deep breath, finger beside the trigger, not quite on, and waited. When the man in the armor stopped moving to reload, he took his shot.

 

The large caliber bullet shot out of the rifle and made a home inside the man's skull, blasting out the other side with ease followed by a splatter of blood, then followed by a loud clang! as the man hit the ground as a deadweight.

 

MacCready released the breath he was holding shakily, and lowered his rifle for a second to look for James, see how he was doing.

 

He caught sight of James pulling the trigger on Winlock, the man falling to the ground silently, but Barnes was nowhere to be seen.

 

MacCready quickly looked around for him, brows furrowed.

 

He should still be here...

 

MacCready looked back over in James’ direction and saw Barnes sneaking behind him with a raised knife and a malicious grin.

 

Before he even knew completely what he was doing, he had the gun lifted and a loud crack! filled the air as MacCready fired, hitting a bullseye between Barnes’ eyes.

 

James turned around, saw MacCready standing there with his rifle still poised, and grinned.

 

______

 

Halfway through the battle at the Institute, MacCready just looked over at James and felt an overwhelming amount of trust, adoration, and a little something else wash over him. He swallowed at the realization and quickly brought his gun up again, thinking faintly to the little wooden soldier in his pocket, heavy like lead on his mind.

 

The synths against them were fighting back, hard. Especially the Coursers, using their nifty little stealthboys.

 

They soon made their way up to the terminal. MacCready wasn't expecting to see Shaun lying in a bed, so obviously sick. He saw James pause on the way to the terminal, taking a visible swallow and turning to his son.

 

“I really am sorry about this,” James said weakly.

 

“So you're just going to blow all this up? All this work!” exclaimed Shaun.

 

James only winced. The sounds of distant fighting still happening below.

 

“You'd better get your precious item and leave my sight. I don't want you to be the last thing I see,” he said coldly, eyes sharp and narrowed.

 

James just swallowed again and quickly grabbed what they came for, turning on his heel, power armor clunking, and striding out with a concerned MacCready in tow.

 

They’d almost finished when James had a close call, a lone synth that came out of nowhere and fired a shot that grazed the mans neck. MacCready's heart stopped for a solid ten seconds, he’s sure enough to bet.

 

His lips turned up into a sneer, his eyes hardened, and his body tensed as he cocked his gun and took three solid shots through the synth’s head, electric sparks flying.

 

The second the body hit the ground saw MacCready turning around and running to James, who was currently crouched on the ground behind a shelf, hand on his neck.

 

MacCready slid down beside him, a small cloud of dirt and dust flying up. “James! Were you hit bad?” he got out, voice betraying his fear.

 

James grimaced and gently pried his hand away from the sticky mess of his neck, carefully.

 

“How's it look?” James asked with a quirked eyebrow.

 

MacCready actually takes his time to examine the wound, looking for anything outwardly wrong, then nitpicking.

 

“Just a shallow graze. As long as you don't go swimming anytime soon, it shouldn't get infected,” MacCready said, avoiding James’ eyes, which he knew were looking directly at him.

 

“MacCready, you weren't… worried, were you?” James asked hesitantly, not completely sure whether he wanted an answer.

 

He just sighed and adjusted his rifle, looking at the ground.

 

“I… I really trust you, James and I... I want to keep traveling with you. However, there are things you should know. But first, have this.” MacCready dug into his pocket and pulled out the soldier, handing it over to James and placing it in his hand firmly.

 

“I had a wife. And a kid. We were travelling here from the Capital, decided to settle in an abandoned subway station. Didn't think to check for ghouls. I look back and know I should have,” MacCready said quietly, memories of that night flashing in front of his eyes. “She was killed in front of me, ripped apart by the ferals.”

 

“And the kid?” the other man asked, a little pause after MacCready had finished.

 

“My boy, Duncan. Had some kind of disease that nothing has been able to cure. Last time I saw him... he could barely walk. Heard there was a cure, thought we could maybe check it out,” he said, finally realizing he'd just dumped all of this at once and stiffened, also remembering where they were.

 

“We'll find the cure, no worries,” James promised, looking over at MacCready.

 

It's MacCready's turn to swallow, having a feeling he knew what that gaze meant.

 

“I feel... honored, for you to have told me all this... thank you,” he said sincerely, and was that his imagination or was James closer.

 

“I don't know how I could repay you for all the help you've done. I just-” and James’ lips were on his, hands holding his face while his thumb gently stroked his cheek.

 

MacCready blinked stupidly, before shutting his eyes and kissing back.

 

James pulled away, a smile in his eyes and on his face. “No need, Mac.”

 

MacCready just sighs at the nickname. “I'm sure you're gonna regret this, James,” he warned.

 

“I'm willing to take the risk. Now, let's finish up so we can get out and blow this place to smithereens.”

 

MacCready quickly pulled James down for one last quick and heady kiss before charging off, rifle cocked and stride sure.

 

______

 

MacCready crept along after James silently, close to the ground and careful. The place was loaded with ferals, MacCready could hear them shifting or groaning. The sounds made him uncomfortable.

 

Soon enough, staying hidden was impossible, and they both started firing, killing all the ghouls from each room, while MacCready watched James pick from things for caps.

 

They soon made it to the right floor, and they proceeded to decimate all the ghouls in range, effectively clearing the level.

 

MacCready raced towards the cure, eyes wide and hands trembling. He could save Duncan. His boy would be saved.

 

Before he knew what he was doing, MacCready turned around and launched himself at James, wrapping his arms around the other man and holding him tightly, allowing himself one sniffle. “Thank you, so much. You've saved my son.”

 

James held him back tightly, a soft ‘no problem’ escaping his mouth.

 

They made it back outside and on the road with no problems. Mac looked over and hesitantly took James’ hand, still walking with the other on his rifle strap.

 

Things were going his way for once. MacCready was suspicious. But he went with it. Hopeful. He went to bed with James’ arms and legs wrapped around him, and a snoring in his ear.

 

He couldn't have been happier.

 

______

 

The two men were walking along a road, guns drawn, knowing they were in a sketchy area. MacCready was nervous, the mission they'd finished didn't have as much loot as they'd wanted, well, needed.

 

James had been ambushed halfway through and had to use the last of their stimpacks, and MacCready really wasn't wanting to take any chances with any type of evil being.

 

“So, James, where're we going to next?” MacCready asked, not liking the groaning of the buildings around them cutting through the silence.

 

James gave a thoughtful hum and shifted his pack, frowning a little when he notices how light it was. “Was thinkin’ Goodneighbor, to buy some cheap shit from Daisy and alert the asshole who gave us this shitty quest, just to clear out his grandmothers old mansion, for sentiments sake! What kind of bullshit is that? How has this man survived so long? I'm from pre-war times and I'm not as soft as that,” he snorted, shaking his head.

 

MacCready quirked a lip up in amusement, scanning the rough pavement constantly to make sure he doesn't trip, though the exhaustion was starting to kick in, and it was getting progressively more difficult. Those Raiders had been a bit harder to knock off the table than expected. One of them had burned all their supplies while waiting for MacCready to find him. He was still pissed about that cute little move.

 

“How far are we walkin’ tonight, boss?” he asked with a huff as he narrowly avoids a large slab of concrete. The fading light really wasn't helping, he thought bitterly.

 

“I was hoping to go another mile or so, but you look like you're about to pass out. What do you say about another half mile?” James said, bumping shoulders with MacCready while the other man huffed a laugh.

 

“I'll say that works,” MacCready replied, turning to James to roll his eyes, but freezing when he sees the look on his face. “What is it?” he muttered, hand tightening on his rifle strap.

 

James shook his head with a breathless laugh. “Ah, nothing. Thought I caught sight of something, must've been a Radstag or somethin’,” he said with a wave of his hand, face betraying his uncertainty.

 

MacCready paused, having a bad feeling, but nodded. Must be a problem they could avoid by staying silent, so he says nothing and they continue.

 

They soon make camp, and they zip their bed rolls together to be able to share, one being much to cramped for the middle of summer.

 

MacCready only took off his belt and set his rifle beside them before crawling into the bed roll next to James. The other man doesn't mention it and just shifts closer, resting an arm over MacCready’s chest and letting out a long sigh.

 

MacCready himself wrapped an arm around James’ shoulders and shifted a little more to get comfortable. Finally, he shut his eyes and drifted off, albeit into an uneasy sleep.




He wakes up to a gun cocking, and opened his eyes to the barrel of said gun in front of his face. He blinked, and looked at the man holding the gun.

 

“Hello, MacCready. Miss us?”

 

Gunners then. He stiffened when he realized James wasn’t beside him.

 

“Where is he?” MacCready snarled, eyes dangerous.

 

“Don’t worry, we made some noise a distance off and we went to check it out. Shouldn't be back for a few more minutes. We’ll have had our fun by then,” the man grinned maliciously, yellow teeth looking orange in the lantern lighting.

 

“What do you plan on doing? Shoot me? James'll hear it and kill your asses without hesitation,” he threatened, swallowing nervously at the sight of another man approaching.

 

“Silenced pistol, straight to the brain. Think he'll hear anything a mile off?”

 

MacCready narrowed his eyes and shifted. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared. Frightfully so.

 

He heard crunching. Apparently, so did the gunners and they all turned towards the forest-- when had more arrived?-- and raised their weapons.

 

And there came James, enhanced and scarily modded pistol at the ready. “Either let him go, or you'll get your brains blown to nice little mole rat sized chunks,” he calls out with a casual tone, but the way he held his gun told otherwise how he felt.

 

There was a loud crash behind James and he turned around, firing at the man who attempted to sneak up behind him, giving the other gunners ample time to do as they please.

 

The man who originally threatened MacCready quickly shot him in the thigh, a strangled cry escaping his mouth, and the man crouched down, lips brushing his ear. “We’ll be back, so watch it,” before standing up and sprinting off, his cronies in tow.

 

MacCready, at that point, had crawled out from the sleeping bag and was clutching his thigh, which was bleeding heavily. He clutched the wound and panted harshly, a low groan slipping out from his clenched teeth.

 

James immediately rushed over and fell beside MacCready, eyes wide in fear.

 

“MacCready what's wrong, where are you shot, are you okay?” he asked rapidly, eyes scanning the other man at an most inhuman speed.

 

“Thigh, shot,” he forced out, wincing when he shifted his leg for better access.

 

“Fuck, okay. Ah... we have to leave here, I know that much, get as far away as we can, they have more and will undoubtedly come after us. Can you walk?”

 

MacCready seriously doubted he could, but nodded anyway and attempted to stand, and immediately fell back down.

 

James looked pained and swallowed. “I'll get our stuff together, then you can lean on me, we're not too far from the Railroad, just about fifteen miles or so,” he winced the moment he says that, realizing that yes, that was a long distance.

 

“Don't worry. I'll make it. I have to,” MacCready said, voice breathless.

 

James nods and quickly wrapped something, MacCready things an old shirt, around his thigh tightly before putting all their stuff in their respective packs.

 

Once finished, he stood up fully and reached for MacCready's hand, which the other man accepts and painfully pulled himself to his feet, crying out in pain when he stumbles.

 

James quickly caught him and wrapped MacCready's arm around his shoulders, helping him along.

 

“Fu-frick, why couldn't we have saved one stimpack,” he ground out, slowly taking steps forward, most of his weight on James.

 

“I think I'll have to leave you at a house and go and kill a few of ‘em, to get you a stimpack, but you'd be alone and I… I don't wanna risk it,” James said, face twisting into a grimace.

 

“Don’t--don't worry. I'll be, fine,” he huffed, blinking the dots away from his vision. Blood loss, he thinks.

 

“I don’t like it, Mac,” he said softly, pulling MacCready's arm tighter around him when the other man trips.

 

MacCready's face softened a little. “I know, J, leave me, I'm better alone than slowing you down. Please, trust me,” MacCready pleaded, turning a little to look at James.

 

James seemed to give in, and nodded. It's at least half an hour of pained walking before they find a habitable house for MacCready. Though, only the lower level was accessible.

 

James dragged them both inside before gently lowering MacCready onto a dirty mattress on the floor in the back. MacCready still groaned a little as he settled, though he was feeling strangely lightheaded, and everything was a little blurry. The makeshift bandage was completely soaked in his blood when he hazily looked at it. He felt cold.

 

James lowered himself beside the mattress and leant down to kiss MacCready's forehead gently. “I'll be back in a few hours, hold on,” he said softly.

 

MacCready nodded with a painful swallow. He’d try his best.

 

As James walked away, MacCready propped himself against the wall, blinking away the drowsiness, knowing he needed to stay awake, make sure there was no danger. But things were getting blurrier and breathing was a little more difficult, but he thought the bleeding had stopped, so he should be fine. Right?

 

He dozes off for a few hours, sometimes snapping awake, wondering where James is, before dozing again. The next time he officially wakes up, it's a little after dawn, and his leg was on fire. MacCready winces and hisses in pain, pulling his leg toward him and tearing at the bandages, certain that a bug or something had crawled in there. But when the bandages are pulled off, he sees the wound slightly yellow and very swollen, and leaking a slightly clear liquid. MacCready has a feeling that that is not good.

 

He quickly rewraps the makeshift bandage and repositions his leg, sighing and banging his head against the wall. Did the temperature drop? Why did it suddenly get so cold? All MacCready knows is that he feels like he's burning, but he's shivering. Hard.

 

MacCready sits like that for a long while, soon dozing again, shivers occasionally wracking his body. Footsteps stir him awake. But they sound.. wrong.

 

Oh fuck it isn't James. Quick, think, what do I do?

 

But his thoughts were slow and slightly sluggish, not wanting to cooperate with his will. He settles with just dragging himself under the nearest slab of concrete, about five feet away as silently as possible. The only things that wouldn't fit were his feet, but he hoped whoever it was would just assume he was one of the many skeletons that seem to always be around.

 

But the steps got nearer. His shivering was getting harder, wasn't that odd? Wait, why was it dark? Had he slept that long?

 

Then suddenly a hand grasped his foot, the one attached to his bad leg, and yanked, pulling MacCready clear out of his hidey-hole with a shout mixed with surprise and pain.

 

He looked up and saw the blurry figure of the man who shot him. “You. Asshole,” he growls, words slurring a little. Why is that? He isn't drunk or high.

 

“Told you I'd come back, didn't think you'd get away that easily, did you?”

 

MacCready just sneers.

 

The man grins and yanks MacCready to his feet, forcing him to stumble after him. MacCready, barely able to stand, found this task just a little difficult.

 

The man leads him off a ways and to a previously abandoned Raider camp and tossed him into one of their haphazardly built shacks, landing with a grunt.

 

“Now don't try anything, enforcements are coming real soon.”

 

MacCready hasn't even bothered to move, finding it too much effort. Attacking anyone in this state? Impossible. He nods anyway.

 

The Gunner walks across the camp and rummages through a container, pulling out a leash and collar with a malicious grin.

 

MacCready's stomach dropped, a shiver wracking his body.

 

The Gunner walks over and ties it around MacCready's neck, who was struggling weakly the whole time, body too weak to really fight.

 

The Gunner then ties it around a post, keeping MacCready close to it, eyes narrowed hatefully.

 

“When a dog misbehaves, what do ya do? Ya tie ‘em up,” he says smugly, lifting an eyebrow and leaving.

 

MacCready sat there, angrily stewing, but his anger soon dissipated when the pain in his thigh returned. He looked at the sun, wondering why he felt so cold. Why did he feel fuzzy?

 

Shaking his head, MacCready tried to configure a plan, but his mind wasn't locking onto a single thought for more than a second.

 

It was hours before he realized it was dark and that he was going through full body shivers, his thigh now numb.

 

That's not normal… is it?

 

He reached up and weakly tugged on the collar, quickly giving up with a grunt.

 

Where is everyone?

 

MacCready looks around blearily, the world grayer around the edges than usual. Odd.

 

He lolled his head to the side, blankly wondering why it wouldn't twist normally.

 

James..

 

Yes, James! Where is he? Why is this collar on? Why can't I feel my leg? All of these odd questions with even odder answers, he figured.

 

His eyes slowly slip shut a few hours later, shivering hard enough his muscles were cramping and dehydrated to the point he felt dizzy.

 

The next time he opened his eyes, it was bright, but his vision was grey and fuzzy, and there was a low ringing in his ears. MacCready looks up drearily, mindlessly noting how it took all his strength, to the sound of muted hurried footsteps.

 

He sees a familiar set of boots, then trousers.

 

“Ma--dy, -ou -ay?”

 

MacCready just blinks at him, confused by this question.

 

James just goes into calm panic mode, yanking his knife off his belt and ripping the leash in seconds before gently removing the collar, catching MacCready as he fell into the other man's lap with a tired grunt.

 

James quickly grabbed him and heaved MacCready over his shoulder with a groan, standing to full height, holding MacCready as if he were nothing. Ignore that MacCready is an actual twig.

 

MacCready doesn't quite remember what happens after that, besides maybe a gunshot or two when James shoots a wild dog or a feral ghoul. Even dying, he felt safe.




He woke up with a start, years of habit ringing true. The room was dark and vaguely cold. He looked around slowly, body responding slowly to his commands and seeing an empty suit of power armor in the corner and an occupied sleeping bag beside him.

 

A door creaked somewhere nearby along with the faint sound of a building crumbling in the distance.

 

MacCready blinked slowly and let out a loud yawn, legs stretching a little before he winced, quickly clutching his thigh with a little gasp. A few moments pass before the pain eases and he let's go, leaning back. He has to admit, it didn't hurt as much as it should have. Which means he's on something, likely some Med-X.

 

It isn't long before he falls asleep again, boredom and exhaustion to blame.

 

The next time he wakes up, the room is pink from either early morning or early evening, he isn't quite sure. The sleeping bag beside him is empty, prompting a frown. He settles back into an average bed and relaxes, waiting, knowing James'll return. Eventually.

 

Thankfully, it isn't long until the man returns, presence made known clunking boots that are too familiar to not be known to MacCready. His lips quirk up in a smirk and he waits patiently.

 

The door creaks open and James walks in, lifting an eyebrow at the sight of a conscious MacCready. “So he lives!” He says cheerfully, falling into a chair beside the bed with a groan.

 

“So it would seem. Missed me?”

 

“Of course! What would I do without a sniper at my back?”

 

“And that's all I am to you?”

 

“Hm.. maybe not,” James says coyly.

 

MacCready just gives a charming grin and looks at him expectantly.

 

James gives an endearing sigh and gets up, making his way across the short gap between them and leaning over MacCready, putting a hand on his cheek and kissing him gently.

 

“I was very worried,” he says quietly, pulling away.

 

“I know, J. I wanna know what happened.”

 

“How much do you remember?”

 

“I.. remember you running at me and cutting me loose, then it gets fuzzy,” he says slowly.

 

“After that, I carried you here to Goodneighbor where i gave you a few of the stimpacks i stole, and your infection cleared about a day ago,” James reports, frowning and running a hand through MacCready's matted hair.

 

“How long have we been here then?” He asks, silently leaning into James’ hand with a sigh.

 

“About two days so don't worry. I collected our bounty and we're staying here another two nights, so plenty of rest for you,” James informs, glancing to the shuttered window.

 

“Hmm. Rest can wait, at least for a little bit, come back and lie with me,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing.

 

James eyes him, “Are you sure you're up to anything… extra, so soon after this?”

 

“As long as you're doing most of the work, my thigh should be fine,” MacCready replies, winking.

 

“First off, please never wink again, and secondly, fine, but no complaining tomorrow.”

 

“Deal,” he says, reaching and pulled James close by the back of his head, both of them meeting in the middle with a soft sigh.

 

MacCready slowly slides to the side, making room for James. The other man wastes no time and hoists himself into the bed, hovering over MacCready possesively.

 

“What're you waitin’ for, cowboy?” MacCready says with a chuckle.

 

James then pulls off his shirt, showing off a lean body beneath slightly tanned skin.

 

While James removes his clothing, MacCready struggles to do the same.

 

It's a few solid minutes before they're both down to their underwear, back to kissing, but this time hungrily, teeth clacking together and tongues meeting.

 

James carefully lowers his body on top of MacCready's and grinds his groin against the other man's, letting out a breathy groan at the contact.

 

“James..” He whispers, grinding back up harshly, leaning forward for another desperate kiss.

 

MacCready pulls away first, leaning down to start nipping and sucking the underside of James’ jaw, planning on leaving bruises.

 

“If you don't get our fucking undies off, I will punch you in the cock,” MacCready growls out, punctuating this statement with a sharp thrust of his hips up, making them both gasp and shudder.

 

“Fine,” James huffs, pulling away and yanking off his boxers and doing the same to MacCready's.

 

James licked the palm of his hand and grabbed both their cocks, stroking gently, the contact causing them to groan loudly.

 

“Fuck yeah, like that, J,” He gasps, grinding his hips up.

 

“You close?” James asks, panting roughly.

 

“Almost-- almost there, just a little more-- fuck!”

 

MacCready came with a high pitched keen, back arching off the bed. James gave himself a few quick jerks before coming on MacCready's stomach.

 

James falls beside him and they both relax, catching their breaths.

 

“Holy fuck that was good,” MacCready says, laughing breathlessly.

 

“Mhm.”

 

“I believe I'm ready to sleep again,” MacCready says a few minutes later, eyes half shut and drowsy.

 

“I'll have to agree with you on this one. Let's rest.”

 

MacCready hums and creeps closer to James’ side, curling into him while James pulls him closer.

 

“Sleep well,” the older man murmurs.

 

But MacCready was already asleep.

Notes:

Hope you had a nice time reading this, it's pissed me off for months now.

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