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Vault 22 wasn't far from Vegas, and Boone knew the way. He also knew it wasn't gonna be full of those goddamn spore people any more, which would have made it a nice walk — especially sharing it with Gannon, as he was. His best friend, apart from Manny… though maybe that had flipped, two years after quitting First Recon. They were friends again, and Boone was glad about that; but now it was Gannon he worked with, Gannon he lived with, Gannon he let fall asleep on his shoulder after three measly beers and an evening hunched over some boring scientific paper.
Yeah… maybe this walk would have been more fun with Manny. Quieter, too.
Hard to stay alert to their surroundings as well as tune Gannon out, but Boone was a master of it by now. Wouldn't have minded it so much if Gannon was saying a damn thing he could follow. Five minutes ago, he'd been promised that this was a brief explanation of the background of this new mission — for a loose coalition of wasteland scientists this time and not the OSI. Gannon was a lot happier about that, and going into detail about what all these eggheads had been using the vault for, or hoping to use the vault for, or— They were just here to pick up some samples and deliver them to some of the scientists, based in Jacobstown. Simple job. Easy. Fun hike.
For Boone. Gannon was gonna hate it, but he was nervous about more than that. Right? Even he couldn't have actually wanted to talk for ten minutes straight.
Thought about reassuring him that they'd cleared the vault, and, if they needed to, they'd just do it again— But it was impossible to get a word in.
So Boone just let him continue. Huh. Maybe it was Jacobstown he was nervous about. The super mutants… but he hadn't really mentioned them. Just that one of the scientists up there was a ghoul. Or, maybe all of them? Ghouls and super mutants, huh. Life with Gannon was far from boring, but he sure made it sound it.
… there was no way Gannon was expecting him to remember any of this shit, right? The word ghoul always caught Boone's attention, even when they weren't talking about ferals. Okay, he'd noticed the name Keely, too. Remembered rescuing her, and… How many of the damn scientists involved in this thing were ghouls, anyway? He could have asked, but he didn't care enough. But if Gannon was the only human… Boone was gonna keep a close eye on him next time they visited Novac together, case he got any ideas about a spa trip to the toxic dump.
He tuned back in when he hadn't heard any strangers' names or seven-syllable words for a while. Seemed like the science stuff was over.
So of course Gannon had to break out the goddamn Latin. After all these months travelling together, he still couldn't avoid this one simple thing around him? The hell was even the point of it? Nobody understood him — even the ones who didn't hate it like Boone did!
He didn't react, though. He just kept walking. And Gannon had the nerve to huff and sigh, as if Boone was the one who was being rude.
… maybe Boone was being too hard on him. Maybe it wasn't even about him. The last time they'd climbed these hills? Hadn't been just the two of them. And it sure as hell wasn't Ruth's pip-boy radio Boone missed. Or, not just that. And… Gannon probably felt the same way. Well, not exactly, obviously, but… He missed her, too.
Must have been trying to fill the silence she'd left. Boone could have been more grateful, huh. Though, Ruth would have been more grateful to hear it. She would have listened to his boring science shit… encouraged him… laughed at whatever his dumb Latin jokes were.
Boone hoped Gannon didn't think of him as a poor substitute. God knows he didn't think of him that way.
♡
The entrance to Vault 22 looked pretty much the same as it had done last time. Leafy. Green. A little too beautiful.
Gannon surveyed the scene, suspiciously. "Now, why am I so nervous?"
Boone made sure he was out of his earshot before muttering, "Beats me." Guy acted like he was living a double life, even though he clearly didn't have the time. Never known anyone so cagey. "You coming?"
Gannon jogged over to him. "Sure we don't need… a plan? Hmm. Should we have brought breathing equipment? Radiation suits…"
The hell were those scientists doing down there? Especially when they were leaving these experiments unattended most of the time… "Already got a plan. Get in. Get the stuff. Get out."
"And then climb a mountain," Gannon grumbled. "Ugh. You're right. I'm overthinking it. It's gonna be fine!"
But he still waited for Boone to head towards the door first. And stuck close behind him. Closer than usual; Boone didn't mind it. They knew how to work around each other pretty well, even without the years of sniper training.
In the dark, damp corridor, Gannon whispered, "I'll just scream if I see anything move. You do the same."
"… I won't."
"Ha, of course not. Hmm. So, what have I got to fear with the toughest guy in the Mojave watching my back, huh?" He slunk ahead of him with a smile over his shoulder.
Good. He was the one who knew what the hell they were looking for.
Gannon was pretty tough himself… even if he complained all the damn time. Boone remembered how he'd led them through this place when there'd actually been something to fear. Wasn't the first time he'd impressed Boone, nor the last, and he was sure there was still plenty to come.
Wasn't just the obvious things, like rushing into that firefight Pacer had started with the NCR to help a downed King. No, probably the first and bravest thing Boone had ever seen Gannon do was trying to befriend him, even when he'd been so hostile. Hadn't seemed like it at the time, of course, because Boone hadn't understood what the hell was going on. He still cringed to remember how he'd assumed Gannon had been sizing him up and glaring at him at the same time as pursuing Ruth with weirdly arrogant disinterest… and Boone was supposed to be perceptive.
Gannon stopped at a lab door. "Okay. Should be in here."
He opened the door; Boone watched his shoulders sink back down when nothing burst through and attacked them.
He turned to Boone with a chuckle. "I should have trusted your instincts. In and out, just like you said."
Yeah? Not until they worked out which was the plant they were taking out of here. This was nothing like Gannon's tent at the Old Mormon Fort: little plants in dry pots, crates of… big dry shit, and a thousand slides and vials and all kinds of science shit like that. This was like a goddamn jungle, straight out of a movie holotape. Looking closer, it was nothing like the rest of Vault 22, either. Everything was growing neatly in pots and planters… even had little labels… it was just that everything seemed ten times the size it should have been.
Especially the flowers. "This is the one," Gannon said, looking into a flower bigger than his face. "Lucky us, getting to see it flower, huh? I really hope it will survive the trip up to Jacobstown… of course, it being a warm day means I might not…"
Boone tried not to sprain his eyes through rolling them. "I'll carry it," he grumbled.
Gannon beamed at him. "You will? Oh, you don't have to. We can swap!"
"And drag you up, too?"
He laughed. "I'm sorry, Boone. I didn't think it'd be so… big." He stroked one of the huge red petals, gently and precisely. Boone had always been impressed by his surgeon's hands; strong and elegant at the same time. "You know, I've seen drawings of the parent species, but to see the fruition of this research is… hard to describe!"
Ha. He'd probably figure it out along the way. Boone put his arms around the giant plant pot and lifted; it was awkward, but he was just glad the damn thing didn't have legs. As he turned to the door, he got a mouthful of flower, which he tried to spit out, but something just kept slapping him in the face, pushing his shades aside, and—
He gave up and sat it back down on the table. Double checked it hadn't actually been fighting back…!
Gannon was trying not to laugh at him. "Uh, maybe you should have picked it up facing the other way. You're covered with pollen— Here, let me—"
He got a handkerchief out of his pocket and threatened Boone with it as if he were his mother— Boone dodged, and tried to wipe it off with his hands, but there was so much. He wiped them on his pants and pulled up his shirt to scrub at his face.
But Gannon hadn't holstered the handkerchief. "You missed a bit," he pointed out, smugly. "I promise I won't spit. Or pinch your little cheeks."
"Man, shut the hell up," he muttered, trying not to laugh. "Fine."
He stood still as Gannon frowned and peered at him through and over his glasses. He was firm as he wiped down his cheeks, dabbed at the corners of his eyes; it didn't tickle. But it wasn't careless. Not at all. That was the goddamn thing about Gannon — he could be so warm, sometimes — just made it hurt more when he was cold.
Boone had no idea how Manny could deal with the way Gannon was stringing him along like he was. Sure, Gannon was hot — if you liked guys — but… nobody could be that lonely. Could they?
"There," he said, looking pleased at the results of his handiwork. Boone could only trust he looked normal again; actually, he figured he should have been happy he hadn't started to come up in hives, or had his eyes swell shut, or…
"… what is this thing, anyway? Does it… do something?" Or was it just pretty? And a pain in the ass.
"Huh? What do you—? Oh," he said, dryly. "You weren't listening. It's not dangerous," he said, brushing the worst of the pollen off his handkerchief, before folding it neatly and putting it away. "It's not even the flower we want. There's a compound in the root— Have I lost you again, already?"
Boone just glared at him.
Gannon tutted. "I guess you never won a medal for manners. Anyway, it's for a heart medicine. I guess that's the short version. Oh, just in case? The heart is the thing in here," he said, poking his chest, "that, uh — do you know what blood is?"
"Go fuck yourself," he grumbled. "I was listening," he lied. "Just didn't— uh…"
Gannon nodded, wide-eyed and condescending. If he'd been like this with his students at the university, must've been why they chased him out here. "Yeah," he said, tapping at his heart again. "It's this one, you know — bump-bump! —"
Boone's heart was pounding a little, now that he thought about it. Must have been from trying not to laugh. "You gonna help me pick this up or just stand there laughing at your own jokes all day?"
"I don't know. But you're a tough crowd, so…"
They rotated the pot until it looked like Boone could pick it up without getting slapped around too much. That flower was so damn huge — had to be exactly behind it to be safe from it. Even then, if there was any wind coming down the mountain, he could see the damn thing turning inside out just to reach him.
This was gonna be so annoying. Even without the super mutants at the end. "Couldn't we… dig up the root?" he asked, grasping the thick stems near the base—
"What? No! Let go of that — don't tug on it—!"
Boone did as he asked. And snickered.
"You are a child," Gannon insisted, as if he hadn't been laughing, too. "And a barbarian— No, we need the whole plant — to cross it with a hardier plant that won't grow in here. I don't think it'll work," he confessed, quietly. "But I'm not a botanist, so—"
"So I'm carrying the world's heaviest, most aggressive flower to the top of a goddamn mountain for no damn reason at all?"
"For science!"
"Not even a single cap…"
"True…" He shrugged, sheepishly. "How about my undying gratitude?"
Boone sighed. "Didn't I already have that for coming out here with you in the first place?"
"Maybe," Gannon whispered. He cleared his throat. "No, I was just taking you for a walk. Kinda like you and Rex, huh? Only he runs after rats, and you run after Legion, so… maybe I ought to make friends with The King and see if I'll get a loan, too. Despite not being a dog person. Or a The King person… I mean, at this point, the ratio of conversations to black eyes is looking pretty good, wouldn't you say? But I'm not much of a gambling man."
No, just a rambling man. Boone rolled his eyes and picked up the pot—
"Wait. Boone. Do you feel… strange?"
"Gannon," he mumbled, from behind the leaves. "Cleared this place out. No more spores. Quit worrying. Let's move."
"I-I… I don't know. I'm not feeling entirely myself, uh, in a cardiovascular sense, I mean."
"'Cause you need a smoke. And so do I. So let's move."
He didn't wait for an answer this time — just set off towards where he was pretty sure he could see the door. Why the hell'd they have to take the whole damn plant, anyway…?
Gannon touched his arm. "Wait! Please, just put it down for a moment. I wanna talk something through with you — probably I'm just being silly, but— Promise you'll listen, this time! I know you have less than no interest in my work, but this could be really important."
Boone did as he asked, and tried not to scowl too much about it. It wasn't true that he had no interest in Gannon's work. Well… not because it was Gannon's, anyway.
… but it was true that all of this science shit bored him to tears. He tried to listen. He really did. It should have been easy. There was nothing to keep watch for in here. But after Gannon clarified that he wasn't afraid they were both gonna drop dead from heart attacks…
It was… distracting. Yeah. Not the way Gannon talked with his hands a little — never so much as Ruth — but the way there was no lit cigarette wafting around as he did it. It was different when they were crossing the desert, whether side by side or single file, with Gannon's running commentary; different when they were at home, and Boone was cleaning his guns or concentrating on his whittling as he listened to Gannon tell a story; different when they were camped out under the stars and talking about nothing at all.
There was nothing else to look at. And nothing to do with his hands, which itched for a cigarette — or to pull a trigger.
Way Gannon reacted when he reached for the packet and lighter, anyone would have thought Boone had pointed a gun at him. "You don't want one?"
"For—! Of all the times not to listen to me—!"
"I always listen," Boone protested. "Just… don't always pay attention."
"The paying attention part is the listening I'm referring to. Boone, I think something is seriously wrong—"
He sighed, and put the pack and lighter away. "Yeah. We've been in here too long and you're going crazy for some reason."
Gannon pursed his lips, thinking. "So… you feel fine?"
"Yeah. Now nothing's trying to crawl up my damn nose."
"Well… okay. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll feel much better with a cigarette and some fresh air — if they don't cancel one another out— Perhaps I was simply more badly affected by what happened here last time than I realised. I'm sorry I worried you. And sorry I bored you," he added, rolling his eyes.
"So can we go?" he asked. The way Gannon was just standing there, staring… He'd never felt so restless.
… wasn't just a smoke he was craving. Should have jerked off this morning. Just felt awkward with Gannon around. Plus, any Follower could have walked in to that safehouse… not so safe after all.
He watched Gannon's face, waiting for an answer. But he still just stood there, hardly blinking. His eyes were as green as the plants all around in here— No. Lighter, brighter, more full of life. And, never full of spore people who wanted to kill him.
But he couldn't just stare into Gannon's eyes all day. "I'm leaving," he warned him.
"Uh… yeah," Gannon said, weakly. He pulled his lab coat around him more tightly — cold? Down here?
Ha! Just trying to cover the tent in his pants— "The plants? The goddamn plants. That's why you're raising the flagpole— Jesus Christ, Gannon. Fine! Sure. Could've just said something. You jerk off, I'll smoke, then can we leave for Jacobstown before the sun sets?" He looked away from Gannon's pink cheeks to the bright red flower. "Unless you think the damn flower will have closed up by then— But it'll be too cold, right?"
"… huh. So, you do listen to me."
Boone scoffed. "Didn't I tell you?"
Gannon smiled, tilting his head. "I guess you are very observant…" He looked at the flower, curiously. No idea how anyone even as smart as him could tell just by looking at it if it would shut with the sun — or how that'd even work down here under these growlights, anyway…
"Don't suck on that," he warned him. "Doesn't taste good." Gannon laughed, so he added, "Think he'll want a cigarette afterwards, too?"
"There— There is no afterwards. I am not going to— This is a laboratory."
Boone nodded. "So it's all the… tubes, and beeping, and…"
"No!" he protested, laughing. "No! It is not— I am a grown man, okay? I am just gonna wait a moment until I, uh, calm down, and then we'll get on with our job." He sighed. "Nobody else would've noticed — I wish it'd been anyone but you— No, that's not true. I like travelling with you, and, I'm glad you're here, and… yeah. I'm glad you're here."
Boone could have smirked and asked, how glad? But Gannon wasn't often so… sappy, and Boone didn't wanna ruin it. He knew he cared, he just… wished he'd show it more often.
Not just through always being ready to lend him a smoke, or making him a coffee first thing every morning. Keeping him company those long lonely nights in the cocktail lounge when he might have drowned himself if he hadn't had to put the bottle down to laugh at his stupid jokes… even the science ones he didn't understand, just 'cause of how much he liked to watch Gannon laugh and smile.
That all made it worth getting out of bed, but Boone would have killed for a hug. Once in a while.
But now was not the time to try and change things. And if Gannon really wanted to walk out of here like that, then Boone's hands were gonna be full, anyway. Gannon was looking at the flower again — expectantly? Worriedly.
"Boone? Can I… take your pulse?"
Boone sighed. "If this is you playing doctor—"
He chuckled. "Believe me, I'm usually a little more forward. Please. 'Cause, uh — I just timed mine, and it's not good."
"More damn spores? You're kidding me."
"I think it's pollen, this time. May I?" he asked, extending the fingers of his right hand towards Boone's neck.
"Shouldn't we get out of here?" But he nodded, and let him come closer, all the same.
"This still could all just be me becoming overwhelmingly aroused by plants, or… whatever else you suggested," he pointed out, keeping an eye on his watch.
Boone waited for what he thought was thirty seconds. "Well? How bad is it?"
Gannon didn't remove his fingers, or meet his eye. "Uh… pretty bad, if I'm being honest. You really feel fine? Because I feel like I'm about to explode."
"Don't know. Adrenaline? This place, and… Flower tried to eat me. Or make me eat it."
"Maybe." He gulped, loudly. "Yeah. So, uh… it's not just me. Not just me that— Not just me. Not—"
"Not just you who wants to fuck the plants? Uh-uh. I'm still normal."
He laughed, slightly hysterically. "I don't wanna fuck the plants—" He yanked his hand away from Boone and nearly leapt back, clearing his throat. "We should probably get out of here. Yeah."
… maybe Boone was hornier than he'd realised. Or maybe he just figured this was the way to get the hug he'd been craving. No other reason he should have said, "So you won't carry the plant or jerk yourself off. I really gotta do everything around here?"
"I-If you keep making jokes like that, Boone, I'm really gonna embarrass myself. It's already humiliating enough that I apparently can't get a hold of myself—"
"Good place to start, sure. What I normally do. But you're a doctor, so—"
"Stop it," he begged.
Boone grinned, and took a step towards him. Gannon's eyes widened, and he tried to keep the distance between them; but the room wasn't very big, and it wasn't long before he was backed up against a bank of monitors.
"Oh my god," Gannon murmured. "Whatever the hell this pollen is— For me, it's one thing, but for you?"
Boone shrugged. "Like there's something wrong with a guy giving another guy a hand?"
Gannon spluttered laughter. "I agree that it should be a cornerstone of civic life, but, unfortunately, it's really not—"
This pollen was weird. Boone had always known Gannon was a total smoke show — used to keep him up at night — but he'd never cared before.
"Maybe we should get some fresh air. Boone? Yeah, you agree, right? Maybe a cigarette would calm us down. You were right the whole time — I should have trusted you the whole time— Oh my god! I wish I could shut the hell up. Please just ignore me."
Boone laughed, and sidled closer — Gannon inched away along the monitors like a giant sexy crab. Not like a lakelurk: with a pretty face, too.
… Boone hoped he wasn't saying all his thoughts aloud, like how Gannon seemed to be. He didn't wanna fuck a goddamn lakelurk. He wanted Gannon. Bad. Didn't matter where it had come from. Just mattered where it was going.
Normally more forward, huh? Then why was he acting so shy? Boone's heart was hammering, but it only helped him focus. He knew it was the same for Gannon as a surgeon… in a fight, too. There was really nothing he couldn't do…! Oh, apart from let Boone do him a favour.
"Gannon."
"… yes?"
"Don't tell me you only like me for my personality."
"Ha! I — I like a lot of things about you, if I'm being perfectly honest — which I really don't want to be—"
"Then flatter me."
"I… don't need to. You know you have an incredible body," he said, glancing down it, and biting his lip. He met his eye, direct, not shy at all. "And I think you have beautiful eyes. I wish you wouldn't cover them up all the time— Maybe that's not true. Maybe I like that most people don't get to see. Oh, please," he begged, burying his face with his hand. "Just shoot me. Put me out of my misery!"
"Got a better idea for that," he murmured, now he was close enough to lower his voice, what with Gannon caught in a corner.
Gannon uncovered his face and licked his lips. "You do? Well, I'm all ears."
Heh. Beautiful eyes, huh? He took off and pocketed his shades before going in for the kiss—
Gannon tried to stop him with a hand on his chest, but he didn't resist very hard. Not hard enough to keep Boone away from his lips. He kissed him back, but broke away suddenly, frowning. Or trying to. "Hmm. What is it with you and not telling me the plan? I thought we were just gonna jerk each other off platonically. Like buddies."
"Yeah… I don't think that's a thing."
"Me neither."
"So…"
"So maybe we should stop here. Before we ruin our friendship. Oh, and any remaining chance that I wouldn't die at Ruth's hands. I was also a little concerned about ruining the sheets, but it's looking less and less likely that this is some weird kind of combination stress and sex dream — both of them usually get to the point a little quicker than this—"
Maybe Gannon really didn't want this. Maybe Boone should have offered for them to go to opposite ends of the weird pollen lab to jerk off all by themselves — maybe he should have even suggested that they left. But nothing could have gotten him to move away from Gannon's heat right now. Definitely not his own willpower.
"Gannon. Want me to take care of you or not?"
He didn't like making Gannon look so scared, but he did like watching his throat move as he swallowed. "I mean, we can do whatever the hell you want."
"Okay. I want you to fuck me."
"You do?" He stopped gaping at him, and shook his head furiously. "Uh, you, you might find that a little overwhelming—"
"Done it before."
"You have?"
"Sure." He dropped his backpack out of the way and grabbed Gannon to kiss him again. It took him a few moments to start kissing back, but no time at all after that to deepen the kiss. His mouth was surprisingly cool — or maybe Boone just had a fever. Sure felt like he was burning up.
Gannon pulled back, panting. "We, uh. Better stop there for now."
It was a little bit disappointing — and a hell of a lot exciting. "How do you want me?"
"Turn around," he urged.
Against the monitors, huh? Sounded good to Boone. He got into place and unbuckled his belt; Gannon helped him pull his clothes down out of the way.
"You have an incredible ass," he whispered.
He looked over his shoulder to look at Gannon looking at him. "Thanks." Gannon met his eye and smiled; Boone smiled, too. And thrilled at the feel of Gannon grabbing and squeezing and… prising him apart, and… "You got some lube, right?"
"Uh, no." He looked flustered; it was more than the heat. "Shit. I really didn't think I'd be needing any on this trip!"
He laughed. "You and me both. Goddamn it. Gotta be kidding me!"
"Well, I'm sorry! Truly I am. Really, words can't express—"
He gasped when Boone reached behind him to grasp his cock through his pants. Hmm. Still just normal sized, even fully erect… Wait. Was he disappointed more than relieved? He shook it off and said, "I can take you."
"Uh…" Gannon gulped. "You mean, dry?"
"Yeah."
"You're sure?" he asked, already unbuckling; kissing his neck as he pressed up close behind him, his stubble gently scraping his skin.
Boone laughed. "I'm sure."
"Thank god," he murmured, and Boone felt him lining himself up, and—
He remembered how to relax at just the last moment. Then he remembered how goddamn good this felt, and tried to smother his moans with the forearm he'd braced in front of him.
After a few dozen more thrusts, he was starting to think that maybe he'd misjudged, and Gannon was bigger than the other guy after all… But he wasn't sure he minded. He couldn't describe this feeling he'd craved for so long — all he knew was, he didn't want it to end.
Just as he thought that? Gannon cried out, and groaned as his hips lost all rhythm, slamming into him carelessly… but before Boone could be too disappointed, he picked up the pace again.
Boone took his damp wrist out of his mouth and mumbled, "Huh."
Gannon laughed — embarrassed? "I'm pretty sure we're gonna die," he whispered, though thankfully he knew it was no excuse to stop.
Hmm. Yeah. Technically, it was worrying… but Boone was just about as happy as he'd ever been, so he just made an affirmative noise that quickly became a moan he wasn't fast enough to dampen.
He was surprised he hadn't come yet. That cock pounding his ass was overwhelming; kinda hurt to focus on it. Or maybe it just actually hurt, but he didn't care. Gannon's fingers digging into his hips hurt, too, but it was grounding, somehow.
Gannon gasped, and begged, "Let me hear you."
Boone reluctantly did as he was asked. Well, he removed his mouth from his arm. If he couldn't come before? He had no hope now, like this. And real moaning was embarrassing enough — like hell was he gonna fake it.
Gannon let go of one hip and grabbed his jaw, instead, twisting his neck almost too far, with his face pressed against the monitors and Gannon's bony hand, still holding him tight. Boone assumed he wanted to kiss, but no: he started attacking the exposed side of his jaw with little nips that became bites as he worked his way past his beard and down his neck. It was interesting, but Boone wasn't sure it was doing anything for him—
He let out a little yelp when Gannon went vampire on his ass!
Gannon laughed. "Sorry," he said, insincerely. Though he did kiss it better. Very gently.
And again. And the third kiss on that sore spot made Boone moan. Loudly—
Gannon chuckled into his neck. And kept going with the soft scratchy kisses until Boone whimpered — and bit down again, making him squeal—
Vampire sadist bastard. Boone was glad he was having fun — 'cause so was he. Though he still wasn't any closer to coming.
His neck was gonna be one giant bruise. And Gannon seemed to have his teeth in every inch of it — Christ, maybe he did — big enough mouth—
He stopped nibbling to ask, "What do you want me to do?"
Wanted him to suck him off at the same time as fucking him, but even Gannon wasn't tall enough for that. So he said, "Dunno. Shit. Maybe it's the—"
Gannon shushed him; let go of his beard and kissed a line up to his lips as his hand dropped to his cock. Wrapped around it and started to pump; used his thumb to tease the tip and make his whole hand a little slippery.
It was impossible to be disappointed when someone was jerking you off, even if they sucked at it, and Gannon absolutely didn't — but somehow… Maybe because he'd wanted to come just from being fucked again? High standards to keep when you weren't dying of some kind of weird plant sex disease — oh, and were straight — so he just tried to relax, instead. Tipped his head back on to Gannon's shoulder, slightly; the mauled side of his neck stung as it stretched, warm, but still so cold at the same time…
Must have been a red rag to a bull. Gannon bent his head to kiss at it, again; panting, struggling to hold them both steady like this. Boone tried to lean more on to the equipment; wondered if they were gonna break it—
Something made him moan. Maybe shifting around like that, or — hoped it wasn't the goddamn neck thing; kind of a doctor bit his patients, anyway—
Gannon growled something into his neck — probably just, "Yes." Yes — something like that — yes, yes, yes—
"Fuck!" He gasped, and moaned again. "Fuck, yes, ah—"
He could feel how smug that bastard's smile was—
He couldn't have forced a moan earlier and now it was all spilling out of him he couldn't stop. He was screaming by the time Gannon let go of his spurting cock, and grabbed his hips, hard, pulling him back as he shot another load into his ass.
God, he was sore — but he still wanted more. He was still hard, even after coming so hard… at least it was the same for Gannon, right?
But he'd stopped. He was panting, leaning on Boone and the monitors; and when he pulled out, Boone felt alone, even with his weight still on top of him.
He turned around, slowly, holding him up. Gannon's face was flushed; his golden hair was plastered to his forehead. "Hmm?" he asked, like they did this every day.
Boone prised their sticky bodies apart to check— "Huh. Maybe we're not gonna die after all." Though Boone might have, from frustration.
Gannon followed his gaze, and laughed. "Oh. Well. I still might, and I'm taking you with me." He slicked his hair back as he sank to his knees. He licked his lips and made an appreciative sound — uh, shit, kinda like he did for a plate of steak…!
He didn't bite, thank god. Boone still felt faint. He braced himself against the monitors and watched Gannon's blond head bob up and down, in a trance—
Hoped he'd be just as slow to finish this time. Was that selfish? Maybe not, with the way Gannon moaned around his cock. He groaned at the ceiling, and shifted his weight until he could lean on just one arm. His hand hovered above Gannon's head—
He snatched it down, threading Boone's fingers through his hair. Or trying to. Boone took the hint. He didn't really do anything with it, though. Maybe he just wanted to touch him — maybe he just didn't want to interfere.
The hand Gannon had used to grab his was now wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. He didn't know who was making more noise — him, gasping back moans, or Gannon, slurping. "You're so good," he breathed.
Gannon laughed, and didn't let up for a second. It sent a wave of pleasure through Boone that made his knees weak; he slid slightly down the monitors.
Gannon chuckled again, but this time he pulled his mouth away with a pop. "Where are you going?" he murmured, and grabbed his hips, helping him stand up a little straighter.
Boone hadn't necessarily meant to immediately push his head back down. But Gannon didn't necessarily mind. He laughed as he dodged, and every inch of Boone felt it; he started licking a line down his shaft, and sucking on him sideways, cupping his balls.
Boone started to moan; and started to panic when Gannon switched tactics, jerking him off and bringing his open mouth to his balls—
Gannon laughed, and stilled his hand. "I wasn't gonna bite. I promise." His brow furrowed as he squinted up at Boone. "Did you think I was gonna bite your cock?"
Boone chose not to answer.
He laughed, harder. "I'll stop biting. I promise."
"… forever?"
But he wasn't so concerned about that, or anything else, when Gannon kissed his sack, and gently squeezed his balls with his lips; cupped them with his tongue, one after the other; all the while, those beautiful fingers drew circles in the hollow of his hip… maybe he was writing something, though Boone had no hope of concentrating hard enough to find out. Didn't even care if it was in Latin.
No idea how long Gannon kept that up for. Boone was only glad no-one could hear him. No-one else, anyway.
He pulled Gannon's head away. He seemed reluctant to stop… but Boone didn't want him to stop. "Suck me again. Please."
"With pleasure," he purred.
Yeah… if Gannon was enjoying this even a tenth as much as Boone, he was having a great time. Shouldn't have been so surprised Gannon was so damn good at this; he was good at everything.
When his hand involuntarily tightened in Gannon's hair, it made him moan; Boone felt it all the way down to his toes. He was getting close again—
Gannon pulled away, wincing. "Sorry. Ah, damn it. My knees…!"
"Don't worry about it," Boone said, like he hadn't just been thrown into the pits of hell.
Could have been worse. Maybe. He let go of Gannon's hair to stroke it, gently. Gannon shifted from knee to knee on the hard metal floor, frowning all the while, as Boone looked around the lab.
"Uh… somewhere we could…?"
"Getting too damn old," Gannon grumbled. "Huh? What? No, it's fine."
Before Boone could ask if he was sure, he proved it by swallowing him down. "Ah, fuck!"
He felt Gannon's pleased hum.
"You're doing this on purpose," he said, knowing full well that it was a ridiculous accusation.
Without stopping, Gannon looked up at him to wink.
Made Boone laugh. And moan. And before long, Gannon had him babbling incoherently — maybe he was trying to warn him, or maybe just thank him, or maybe he was just dying—
He grabbed at his hair again, holding on for dear life until he was done; and this time he didn't mind Gannon pulling away. He sure as hell didn't mind watching him lick his lips, and grin up at him, satisfied.
Huh. So was he. He started going soft, just like Gannon had done the second time. "Guess it's over," he said, trying not to be too sad about it.
"Mm. More's the pity. Argh!" He grimaced and sank back down after trying to straighten up. "Help me up, would you? Ugh. God. Thank you." He sighed, and rolled his neck.
Boone, as always, tried not to wince too hard at the awful cracking, crunching sounds it made. Wait. Was this why his neck was always so stiff? He reached out to rub it, but Gannon batted his hand away, with a smile.
"Don't worry — can't even feel it. But maybe I'll ask Henry about a knee replacement… god knows I'll need one by the time we get to the top of the mountain…"
Hmm. "Sure we should still go? Whatever this stuff is… if it's dangerous, maybe we should leave it in here."
"Maybe you're right. About the pollen, I mean. But I'd like to get us checked out in case we go infecting everybody in Vegas."
Boone snorted. "They'd pay good caps for this."
"Ha! Maybe you're right. Still, it's better that people are at least warned, and know how to make it stop… better for my knees, in any case… Oh. We're assuming it has stopped. But I feel fine," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "Back to normal, or just about. How about you?"
"Yeah. Fine."
Kinda dazed. He hadn't even thought about getting dressed until Gannon started to. So he followed his lead. Just like he usually did. Against all his instincts — apart from the instincts that screamed at him not to scare Gannon off. No hugging; no friendly touches at all. No talking about the past. Especially no talking about what just happened.
♡
They decided to just send a message to Jacobstown about what had happened and why they hadn't shown. Boone wondered who'd take it. He wondered about couriers a lot, lately… though he was trying not to.
Last time? The three of them? Before Boone fucked everything up? The desert wind had blown away anything that could have caused them problems down the line by the time they made it back to Vegas. Hoped it'd be the same this time. Touched his wooden rifle stock for luck; hoped Gannon wouldn't notice and tease him.
Maybe that was the wrong thing to worry about, now. Maybe things were too different. And he'd lost his friend as well as his lover.
Some things were still the same: as they left the vault, Gannon offered him a cigarette, and Boone offered him a light. And they made it through three miles and half a pack before either of them said a word.
Gannon took a deep breath. "Must have been only ghouls working down there…"
"Yeah."
"And just like the Beauveria mordicana, they were immune…"
"Yeah." Lucky this one only made people fuck their friends, huh? And not eat them. Though, uh…
"They couldn't have possibly imagined it would have these kinds of effects on us."
Boone wasn't sure he could agree. Apparently these scientists were a pretty freaky bunch.
Gannon adjusted his glasses, and looked away. "Boone, I, uh— I understand if this is— I mean, if— Well, it must have been pretty disturbing."
… huh? Was he trying to say Boone was shit in bed? Or… against monitors, anyway?
"So, I understand if this has made things— Well, if it's…"
The hell was he—? Oh. The distant thing. "Don't worry about it. Already knew you were like this." He tried not to roll his eyes about it.
"You… What? Like what? What do you mean?"
He wanted to get into it? Again? After all this?! "… the way you are."
"… oh." He put his hands on his hips. "Well. I guess that… clears things up."
Boone tried not to sound too exasperated. "Clears what up?"
"Uh… how you feel about me, I guess!"
It wasn't worth dignifying with a response. And their friendship was worth more than saying, "You get off on it, is that it? Thought it was just 'cause you're so damn uptight, but no. We can't just put this behind us, pretend we're just friends. One more guy who wishes he could be the one to change you— Go fuck yourself, Gannon. Seriously."
Goddamn it — if they weren't out in the middle of the wastes — if he hadn't just fucked his goddamn brains out—
He pressed hard on the knot forming between his eyebrows and took a deep breath. "I'll head back to Vegas with you," he clarified. "Not gonna leave you out here alone." Even if he deserved it.
Gannon stopped blinking at him and closed his big horrible beautiful mouth. "Oh. I, uh… I think I got the wrong end of the stick."
Yeah fucking right. But it didn't fucking matter. Boone would forgive him, just like Manny, and Sergio, and Dr. Richards, and god knows how many others. Wasn't gonna let him toy with him, though.
Well, not until they got back to the Lucky 38, at least.
"Boone," he whispered. "I thought you were straight."
Huh? Oh. "So did I," he admitted. When had he realised?
Gannon nodded, slowly. Wetted his lips. "I don't get off on it," he insisted. "I don't. I really, really don't."
Boone groaned and ran his hand over his beard. "I know. Shouldn't've said that. I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. I hurt your feelings — even if I didn't realise you had any for me."
Boone shrugged. He hadn't realised, either.
"I mean… Are you…? Because, if you can overlook that…?"
He thought about it. Those kisses, that mouth, that cock… "No. Couldn't do that to Manny." Taking it off Gannon was one thing. Taking it off Boone was another.
Gannon bit his lip. "Well, uh… could you do it with Manny?"
Boone snorted.
"I'm serious! There are a lot of fun new possibilities — don't go ruling them out just yet."
He smiled. But he said, "No. Not my kinda thing."
Gannon nodded. "I don't know if it's just the lingering effects of the pollen… or the ever-present heat… or… I don't know if it's you. But I don't wanna give up on this."
"Me neither. But I don't wanna be one of your friends."
Gannon folded his arms. And spoke so quietly even Boone had to come closer. "But that's all I can be," he admitted. "Boone, I can't— There are things I can't tell you."
Yeah, he already fucking knew that. And it was mutual. Couldn't seem to tell him how goddamn annoying he was.
Especially when he looked so sad. "Things that would break your heart."
Hard to believe. "Then don't tell me."
"I can't. I can't do that. I can't keep it from you, knowing how you'd react, and…"
No way had Gannon ever done anything truly bad. So either he was blowing it all out of proportion or… or he was right. But despite all this crazy pollen shit — and realising he was bi??? — things hadn't changed that much. "So… if you told me today. If you'd told me yesterday? When I thought I was straight," he said, chuckling at the absurdity of it.
"… uh… I'd have been genuinely afraid you'd have killed me," he said, and winced.
There was just no fucking way! No fucking way. Gannon wasn't a fucking serial killer cannibal— Oh…!
No! He wasn't any kind of monster. And he was too gay to be a legionary and too young to be Enclave, so what the fuck had him so worried? Probably just some kinda weird dream he'd had, and Boone wasn't going to let him keep ruining his life over it. "Well, you just told me that," he pointed out.
Gannon flinched.
"And I'm not killing you over it," he assured him. "So…"
He moved his lips, soundlessly. And tried again. "You just don't know what it is. You think I just… didn't pay a library fine, or something—"
"So you did something? Something worse than Bitter Springs?"
"… no. I didn't do anything at all. Not really."
Yeah, obviously. "So…" He threw his hands up in frustration. "Your parents did something? That it?" Your dead parents? he refrained from adding.
Gannon took a deep, unsteady breath. "I don't know what my father did. Or didn't do. I was so young when he died. And my mother… she was secretive."
"Well that apple fell far from the fucking tree."
Gannon laughed; it broke through his nerves and lit up his face. "Yeah."
"Goddamn it — so it's nothing."
"It really isn't."
Boone ignored him. "Way you were talking, thought you were gonna say you did something to Ruth—"
"No! Never! Wow! Okay. I didn't realise you could invent something worse than the truth, but that's worse. Definitely. Huh! Maybe you really wouldn't kill me."
No, but he sure wanted to, sometimes.
Gannon sighed, and nodded. "But I still can't tell you. I— I should have left, when she did. But I couldn't leave you. Not like that… maybe not at all. Though, I really wasn't thinking about it like that at the time — like this, I mean— I don't know. Maybe I was. Inside? I don't know how that works."
Boone rolled his eyes. "You were engaged once." And obviously still in love with him, even all these years later. "You know how it works."
He chuckled. "Well, I sure know how it ends. You know that's why I broke it off, right? I couldn't marry him and not tell him the truth."
"Then don't marry me."
"Aww. And I thought you were so romantic."
Boone sighed. "You thought he'd kill you?"
"… no? Just thought he'd get me arrested." He blanched.
"Arrested? For something your parents did?"
Gannon gulped. "Uh… yeah."
"… you mean, you and all your aunts and uncles."
"Fuck," he muttered, and looked side to side, as if there was something out here in the sand he could hide behind.
A thousand things Boone had overlooked competed for his attention. Gannon's hatred of Eddie; his fear of the NCR; the plasma pistol he wielded like he'd been born to…! "So when you said you were born in the north… and you told Ruth your dad was a soldier… and Whitman told her she was a goddamn vertibird pilot—!"
"Hmm. Yeah. Kind of surprised you hadn't put it all together before now, yes. Though, considering you had no idea you liked dick—"
"You fucking Enclave piece of shit!"
He took a swing at him, but regretted it before Arcade hit the ground. Shit, his glasses—? No. They were fine. And he was fine. Not knocked out… just lying there, and not fighting back.
So, uh, not fine. Goddamn it. Goddamn it! Why couldn't they have just fought about it like adults!
He tried to relax his fists. "I'm not gonna kill you," he ground out.
"No?"
Arcade reached one hand up to press at his cheekbone, where the punch had landed; he winced. Boone winced, too, when he noticed the blood staining his lip, and his long fingers.
"Okay," he said, simply. And reached into a pocket for—
A stimpak. Of course a stimpak. He didn't keep his plasma pistol in his damn coat pockets, anyway… hell had Boone even imagined that for—
Because he was Enclave. Except… he wasn't, was he? Which was why Boone had never guessed, when, shit, it had been pretty obvious.
… to people who still cared? Most didn't; most hadn't ever even heard of them. Ha! They were obviously the two luckiest bastards out here to have gotten mixed up with each other like this when…
Oh, goddamn it.
"You just gonna lie there?" he asked, gruffly. "Or you want a hand up."
"So you can knock me down again? Oh, no. I've played this game before."
"Yeah?" He sighed. "Tell me who, and they're next."
Arcade laughed. "This is— Uh, Boone, this is not at all unwelcome, but it is a little surprising. And a hell of a volte-face—"
"I don't know what that means. You getting up, or you want me to bury you before I leave?"
He laughed, again — slightly hysterically — and held out his hand. Boone took it and hoisted him to his feet.
They were both a little slow to let go.
Quietly, Arcade said, "Thank you."
Boone nodded. Looked to the Vegas lights for answers. How did things keep getting more complicated all the damn time?
Arcade finished readjusting his glasses and dusting the sand from his hair and shoulders. "So… what are you gonna do?"
"Right now?" he admitted. "Right now, if there was NCR here — I'd tell them about Whitman and Kreger and… any other fucking name you've ever given me. Lucky for you, I can't remember any."
Arcade gulped, and studied his boots. "So…?"
"Figuring by the time we make it home I'll have calmed down some." Before Arcade could look too relieved, he added, "They're retired, right? More retired than me, I mean."
"Yes. They're just… my family. And old. And I don't know how long I've got left with them, but… I can't tell you how much I owe you for not cutting that short."
"More than they deserve." He felt tears sting his eyes, hot and angry; he looked away before Arcade could see. It wasn't his fault — wasn't his fault he'd never even had a single day with his grandmother — wasn't his fault Mom had grown up with a hole in her life and her heart she'd never been able to fill with all the whiskey in the world.
"Maybe," Arcade admitted. "I… I really don't know the details, so, I couldn't tell you if…"
"If they slaughtered half my goddamn family, you mean."
"Yeah."
He blinked back the last of the tears and turned to face him. "But it's what you deserve."
"Uh, it is?" he squeaked.
Boone snorted, and held up what he hoped was a reassuring hand. "To — to have them, I mean."
Arcade relaxed. "Thank you," he said, a little hoarsely; cleared his throat. "I… I just don't know how I could possibly repay you. I mean, anyone. But especially you."
He wanted to say, You don't have to repay your friends. But he didn't wanna be just friends any more, so… He grinned. "We can talk about that when we get home."
"Oh?" His eyes crinkled with delight. "Alright. I like the sound of that."
"Thought you might. C'mon. Let's get out of here."
Arcade nodded at the sand where he'd fallen, took a deep breath, and set off. He was surprised when Boone took his hand; Boone felt him try to wriggle out of it before realising he wouldn't get very far. If Arcade's stride had been any less wide, it might have felt like he was dragging him along. Instead, to all the world — much as it didn't exist out here — they must have looked like a couple.
Heh.
"Uh," Arcade said, nervously. "Is this— Isn't this—? I mean, what if we need to draw our guns?"
"Then we'll let go."
"Planned ahead, huh? Of course you have. But what if it slows us down? I mean, I haven't exactly trained for this."
"So we're training," he said, just at the same time as Arcade thought it and winced. Boone tried not to laugh too loudly in his face. "Stop trying to get out of holding my hand, you cagey, distant bastard. You told me — you told me about the goddamn Enclave! No more secrets — no more excuses."
"Yes sir."
He laughed. "Don't give me that."
"Hmm. Then, what would you like me to give you?"
"When we get home!"
"We can't hold hands all the way there," he whined. "It's just not practical. Plus — I mean, I'm glad that you've gone so quickly from 'so deep in the closet you couldn't even see the door' to this, but—"
"No-one can see us out here."
"For all you know," he retorted. "Oh, who the hell am I kidding — of course you know. But — this is a little much for me. I'm sorry. Maybe we can work up to it?"
Boone sighed. He brought Arcade's hand to his lips for a kiss before releasing it.
Heh. He was smiling. A faint blush across his cheeks. "You— Wait. What happened to your knuckles?"
"Your thick skull."
"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten that, somehow. I hope I'm not concussed. I feel fine, though! Don't worry."
Of course Boone was glad about that, but… still wished he'd at least tried to hit him back.
"Actually?" he confessed. "I'm… happy."
Boone thought about it. About Ruth; about Carla… About telling Manny about all this… Crap. But despite it all… "Me too."
Still, Arcade's smile faltered.
"What are we gonna tell him?"
"Manny? I've been thinking about that, too. Let's visit soon. Well, as soon as you swear you can… well…"
"Not kill your aunt?"
"Yeah," he acknowledged, pained. "As soon as we can make our normal visit… we'll write ahead. Tell Manny to stock up on beer — bring a few bottles of whiskey from the cocktail lounge — I dunno. Maybe we could… talk it out? The three of us?"
He sighed. On the surface, it was nothing like an evil Enclave officer's evil Enclave scheming, but… "I'm really not as stupid as you think I am," he grumbled.
Arcade laughed. "I don't think you're stupid! I must be! You're just a lot more into gay sex than I realised. It's just a suggestion! We can do whatever. I mean, it'd soften the blow, though, right? … heh?"
Or make things a whole lot worse? Still, Boone was willing to keep an open mind, at least where Arcade was concerned. Served him well enough so far.