Archive of Our Own

The airship was big, but it wasn’t that big. 

Danse had passed Arthur half a dozen times already as they moved in separate directions throughout the Prydwen, as wasn’t entirely unusual. Each time, he’d sought the younger man’s gaze, but their eyes always narrowly missed meeting as the Elder went about his duties for the day.

Each time, Danse’s throat felt a little tighter than the last.

Danse was relieved, of course, to see the Elder looking as healthy and composed as ever following his earlier illness. But with every missed connection, he wondered again if the words Arthur had spoken four days ago while nestled in the paladin’s arms were nothing more than meaningless, feverish ramblings. That thought made the knot of worry in the pit of his stomach climb higher and higher until it threatened to consume him whole.

Then, a little after 1600, Nora passed Danse in the hallway and stopped to offer him a warm greeting. 

“I just finished speaking with Elder Maxson regarding what we accomplished at Fort Strong,” she told him afterward. “He said my next assignment is to search the Commonwealth for more information on where the Institute might be hiding. He also said I’m to assist you and the other ranking officers with whatever you might need. Do you have anything else for me today, Paladin?”

“Not right now, Knight,” Danse answered with a shake of his head. “You should check in with Lancer-Captain Kells, though, when you have a moment. I believe there is a matter with which he could use some assistance. Of course, I’ll be happy to accompany you on any mission to which you are assigned.”

“Sounds good. In that case… Elder Maxson also asked me to give you this.”

Nora pressed a carefully folded note into Danse’s hand. 

The paladin’s heart stuttered, unsure of whether it ought to leap or sink.

“Thank you very much, Knight,” he managed, fighting to keep the stiffness from his voice. “Dismissed.”

Before they went their separate ways, Nora raised a fist to her chest, having caught on to the traditional Brotherhood salute. Danse’s lips curled into a small smile as he echoed the motion, feeling a surge of pride in his new recruit that wiped the Arthur-shaped anxiety from his mind.

For all of five seconds. 

Once Nora was out of sight, Danse stepped around a corner and stood with his back against the wall as his gaze darted back and forth to ensure no one else was in the immediate vicinity. Then, slowly, with his teeth dug into his bottom lip, he unfolded the note.

Danse—

Debrief Take Two in my quarters at 1800. Actually, make it 1801. After that, who knows what else might happen?

-A

A shuddering exhale slipped from Danse’s lips.

So he had meant it.

Or, at least, Danse hoped that he wasn’t seeing only what he wanted to see between the lines that had been etched so tidily onto the page. 

Either way, his heart was already racing. 

For the next two hours (and one minute), Danse tried desperately to bury thoughts of what might or might not occur later that evening when he and Arthur found themselves alone together. Nora checked in following her meeting with Kells to relay the unfortunate news that supplies had been disappearing from the depot down at the airport. The paladin’s stomach twisted a little, both from the realization that one of their own was likely behind it and from the prospect of having to deal with Knight-Sergeant Gavill’s grumbling when they encroached upon “his territory.” Nevertheless, the whole ordeal proved an almost merciful distraction from the slow fade of afternoon into evening; his mind then settled into a state of peaceful focus as he and his mentee made plans to investigate.

The hour of 1800 finally arrived.

Danse found himself again staring at the closed door to the Elder’s quarters. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he anchored his gaze to the minute hand on his watch, waiting for it to click from zero to one. When it did, he immediately drew in a deep breath and then knocked.

“Elder—Arthur?” Danse corrected himself quickly, recalling what his superior had told him days ago. 

“You’re precisely on time, Danse,” Arthur called in return. 

The door swung open, and Arthur swiftly stepped aside to make room as he gestured for Danse to enter. 

“I hope you’re well, Danse, following the operation at Fort Strong,” Arthur said once the door was shut behind them. “You and Nora did a fine job out there.” 

He was acting so normal. Danse swallowed thickly to clear the wet-cement feeling from his throat. 

“It was challenging, to be sure, but yes, I am,” he answered, only a little unsteadily. “It was a pleasure to exterminate those monsters, but it’s always nice to know one’s work is appreciated. And what about yourself? You’re looking really good—” Danse cut himself off then, pressing his lips into a thin line as an expanding circle of warmth bloomed in each of his cheeks. “Ah, you look good—I mean to say that you look well, Arthur…”

“We may as well begin reviewing your report, then,” Arthur said quietly as his ice-blue eyes darted up to settle on the paladin’s face. “No point in wasting precious time.” 

Danse answered him with a stiff, obedient nod. It was the only reply he could manage.

Just as quickly, the Elder’s gaze flickered away, and he breathed a long exhale that shuddered ever so slightly as he made his way across the room to retrieve a tidy stack of papers from atop his desk. Silently, Danse followed Arthur with his eyes, traced his slow, deliberate steps, studied the younger man’s athletic figure as he braced a hand against the desk and leaned on its metal edge to skim over the first page of the report. “So, Recon Squad Gladius—”

The Elder’s words came to an abrupt halt. 

Then, Arthur slammed the report down onto the desk with a hollow, metallic clang.

“Fuck.” 

The single word, the single breath bit hotly into the air as Arthur scuffed the toe of his boot against the metal floor. His teeth were buried into his bottom lip when he tilted his head up again, sharp blue eyes snapping up to lock onto Danse’s face. “I can’t just discuss this report like I don’t— fuck, just come here, Danse,” he nearly growled. “Come here.” 

Danse swore he felt his heart thump out of rhythm then.

It was an order he was all too eager to obey.

Arthur grabbed Danse’s waist the moment they found themselves standing side by side, lifting him up onto the desk. He slipped his hands beneath the paladin’s thighs, worked them apart, pressed his body into the space he’d made between Danse’s hips. 

Then, he grabbed the metal ring below the collar of Danse’s jumpsuit and pulled him into a deep kiss. 

Danse shivered hotly, the warmth in his cheeks stretching out in every direction to consume the entirety of his face. It took him only a second to sigh against those warm, yielding lips and melt into Arthur’s touch as he looped his arms around the younger man’s neck to kiss back hungrily. Feeling the delicious scrape of Arthur’s teeth along his bottom lip, Danse parted his lips just barely to invite him inside.

Arthur didn’t waste any time in pushing his tongue into the paladin’s mouth. 

As their tongues wandered and touched and tangled, Danse tasted the echoes of Arthur’s last cigarette, faint, a whisper, a recent memory. He should have hated it, the sensation of nicotine and ash on his tongue. It was a habit in which he’d never partaken and in which he had no interest—not that he had any place to judge, of course. Everyone had their vices; Danse happened to prefer the ones he could drink, the ones that burned down his throat when he sipped right from the bottle. But somehow, the wisps of cigarette smoke that lingered stubbornly in Arthur’s mouth only made Danse crave him more, made him long to be the only drug his Elder wanted to inhale. 

When at last they broke the kiss, Danse gazed at Arthur for a long moment, entirely silent, wide-eyed, breathless, lips still slightly parted. Then, he breathed a hot exhale and found his voice. “The—my report?” he stammered. It was the only thing he could think to say. “We were going to—”

“We’ll do that later,” Arthur interrupted as his hand found Danse’s hip and gripped it tightly, pulling the paladin’s body flush against his. Danse clamped his mouth shut to muffle a needy little whine. “Right now, the only thing I want to do is you, Danse.”

Unable to help himself, Danse cupped Arthur’s face in both hands and kissed him again. 

The brush of the younger man’s lips against his started soft, then turned rough as Arthur nipped all along the paladin’s bottom lip, then bit down hard. The addictive rush of pain dancing hand in hand with pleasure stirred the smallest moan in Danse’s throat. Arthur smoothed his tongue almost apologetically over the little indents his teeth had left, and Danse took the opportunity to push his tongue eagerly into his Elder’s mouth all over again, his thighs pressing closer to Arthur’s hips to keep him close. 

The next thing Danse knew, Arthur’s hands were at the zip to his jumpsuit, tugging, pawing, like he was some irradiated beast trying to rip through the tough hide of its prey. Danse’s entire body felt impossibly hot, as though his flush had managed to stretch all the way to his toes. His breath caught in his throat, only to be stolen away with another firm kiss. He hadn’t expected to get here so fast, felt almost dizzy beneath Arthur’s touch as the Elder pulled the zipper down and then slipped his hands beneath the fabric of the orange jumpsuit to feel over the muscles in the paladin’s chest. 

Arthur broke the kiss then, hands still pressed to Danse’s heated skin as he leaned in to rest their foreheads together. “Is it too much?” he whispered between ragged breaths. 

Sometimes it felt like Arthur could read Danse’s mind. Was he really so transparent, so unable to veil what he was feeling?

What Danse felt at that moment was hot. The undone front of his jumpsuit was barely helping. That heat trapped itself beneath the seams at his arms, under the straps along his back, between his legs, and suddenly, he wanted the damned thing off, wanted to tear Arthur’s clothes off too, wanted to feel skin against skin, wanted to touch and kiss and explore every inch of him. 

“No.” 

Danse’s fingers knotted into the fabric of Arthur’s black jumpsuit as he gazed intensely up at his Elder. “It’s fast, but I don’t care,” he breathed. “I want this, Arthur. I want you.” 

Then, Danse leaned up until only a hair’s breadth separated their lips and whispered “don’t stop” into the scant space between them. 

Arthur erased that remaining scrap of distance, pressing his lips roughly, fleetingly to Danse’s. Then, he trailed kisses and soft bites down the curve of the paladin’s neck, all while his hands wandered everywhere they could reach. Feeling the caress of Arthur’s hands followed by the sting of teeth, Danse couldn’t help moaning again. “Tell me you meant it,” he pleaded softly. “Tell me you meant every word you said…the other day…”

The Elder breathed a taut, amused huff, lips still grazing Danse’s neck. “God, you’re so fucking cute, Danse. As if it isn’t obvious enough already.”

“I just want to hear you say it.” Danse tugged at the front of Arthur’s jumpsuit. “Please, Arthur, tell me,” he begged. His gaze darted away then, a little ashamed of how needy he was, how desperate for his Elder’s attention and approval and affection and lust. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely— Danse. Look at me.” 

Danse dragged his gaze back to Arthur’s face. 

“Yes, I meant it, Danse,” Arthur soothed, his hands gentler as they wandered down the paladin’s sides. “I did. I promise. Every word.” Then, his voice dropped lower, coarse and thick with need: “I very much meant it when I said I’ve had a thing for you for a long time…wanted you like this…can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten off imagining what it would be like to have you…tell me you have too, Danse… tell me.”  

“I—” Dimly, Danse remembered the first time he had, when he’d just been trying to scratch an itch in a way that was little different from scarfing down a container of InstaMash to quell hunger pangs while on a mission, and then Arthur was in his head, and then “Arthur” was on his lips as he came undone under his own touch. He’d felt so ashamed, so filthy afterward, scolded himself for having imagined the Elder that way, but even still, those thoughts bubbled back to the surface almost every time after that, unstoppable, like the rush of champagne from an uncorked bottle. “It’s—it’s hard to get off anymore without thinking of you… You have no idea how much I wa—ahh…” 

Arthur slipped a hand down between Danse’s legs to rub him through his jumpsuit just then. The blissful friction against his half-hard cock made the words on Danse’s lips dissolve into a whimper, and he reached back to brace his free hand against the desk as he rutted a little too eagerly into his Elder’s palm. Papers rustled and crumpled audibly beneath the paladin’s hand, beneath his rocking hips as his body blindly chased more sensation and more pleasure. 

“I think it’s time we moved this to the bed,” Arthur said out of nowhere as he stopped rubbing, his hands falling away from Danse’s body. 

Danse whined from the loss of Arthur’s touch. 

“We—we could just do it on the desk,” he suggested in a small voice as he tugged again at the younger man’s jumpsuit. “Like this…” 

He hiked his thighs up onto Arthur’s waist then, lifting his hips suggestively as he pressed himself to the body between his legs. Fresh heat leapt into his cheeks as he did. He wasn’t usually so forward, so bold; he had never even done this before without promises attached. He’d be lying if he claimed he didn’t hope, stupidly, that those might come later. But now, all Danse could think of, all he could want, was Arthur buried deep inside him, thrusting into him and stroking his cock in perfect concert. 

“I absolutely adore seeing you this eager, Danse,” Arthur said, voice sweet with an addictive bite behind it, like so much thick, syrupy spiced honey, “but if we stay here, we might make a mess of your poor report. You wouldn’t want that, would you? I can tell you worked so hard on it.” 

There was something about the Elder’s words, coaxing, almost praising, and kissed with lust, something about the look in those sharp blue eyes, that made Danse want to beg Arthur to just take him then and there. He almost wanted to insist they forget all about that report.

Almost.

It had taken quite a while to write, after all. He’d been very thorough. 

“No, I—I suppose I wouldn’t,” Danse mumbled as he slacked his hold on Arthur’s jumpsuit. 

“Good boy,” Arthur said—Danse had to bite his lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to slip out at that delicious little bit of praise, a crumb, a sliver that left him hungry for more. Then, the younger man’s arms encircled his waist, dragging him to his feet. “C’mon.”

They kissed passionately all the way to the bed, Danse’s back facing the wall, Arthur’s hands on the paladin’s hips to help him along as he stepped backward across the room. They fell all over each other onto the mattress, Danse coming down on top. 

Without missing a beat, Arthur started kissing him like he’d been starving for a week, like the paladin’s lips were the only nourishment he could stomach. Feeling the Elder’s hard cock between his legs, Danse started to grind against him, whimpering a little at the delightful renewal of pressure against his own growing erection. Arthur’s hands stayed locked on his hips, guiding his motions, encouraging him, and Danse followed needily, squeezing his thighs around the younger man’s body to rock harder against him. 

Then, one of Arthur’s hands came back to grope Danse’s ass, fingers digging roughly into him over his jumpsuit. Danse moaned against the younger man’s lips at the sudden coarseness of the motion, at the little sparks of pleasure that crackled up through his body under his Elder’s touch. Arthur groaned as if to answer him, a low, raw, and greedy sound, and it was only then that Danse realized how desperately he’d been grinding and squirming, how thoughtlessly his hips chased more friction. 

When Arthur buried a pleased hum into the warmth of the paladin’s lips and grabbed him again, Danse understood that his Elder didn’t mind how eager he was; liked it, even.

“I want you so fucking badly,” Arthur said ever so softly, as though not even the storage chest at the foot of the bed deserved to hear it, his breath heavy and hot and damp against Danse’s lips. “Tell me what you want, Danse. Tell me how you like it.”

“Want you…on top of me…inside me…” Danse managed, head so full of pleasure and want that his thoughts felt hazy and faraway.

“Good,” Arthur answered as he pushed Danse’s jumpsuit away from his shoulders, easing the fabric down to his waist. “That’s what I want, too. Good boy.” 

This time, Danse couldn’t hold back the whine that slipped from his lips. “Like it when you call me that, too…” he admitted in a small voice.

“Call you what?” 

Arthur’s voice was still tinged with that same bite, but the points of his words were duller now, softened by the fog of need that was so clearly evident in his flushed cheeks and ragged breaths and the dizzy slip of his hands beneath the lower half of the paladin’s jumpsuit, wandering blindly, ravenously, to touch, caress, grab, squeeze everywhere. Danse could scarcely tell if Arthur was trying to tease him, or if he, too, had passed the point of rational thought.

“That,” Danse said again, couldn’t will himself to speak the words he craved to hear on Arthur’s lips.

There was a breath of stillness. Then, a glimmer of recognition alit within those blue eyes, knowing, not quite teasing, but curious. Pleased, even. “Oh. You like being a good boy, Danse?” 

Danse moaned a small “yes.”

“Well, that makes sense, because you are.”  

The genuine, uncharacteristic affection in Arthur’s voice made Danse shiver. He needed more of that. Willing his hips to stop moving, he propped himself up on his elbows and smirked faintly down at the younger man, trailing his pointer finger along Arthur’s clothed chest. “I could be even better, too. I could be a very good boy for you, Arthur.” 

“How?”

There was the smallest catch in Arthur’s voice then, the slightest twitch of his hips beneath the paladin’s body.

Danse flipped the zipper pull to Arthur’s jumpsuit up and down with the tip of his pointer finger. “Can I?” he asked cautiously. Somehow, undressing the Elder without permission seemed unthinkable, even now, with them lying on top of each other in Arthur’s bed, both fully hard, Danse’s skin bare down to his waist. 

“Of course,” Arthur said. Then, he breathed a shuddering exhale. “Why do I like it so much that you asked?” 

“Because you know I’m good,” Danse answered softly. 

Then, he began to unzip the jumpsuit, slowly, skimming his lips over every bit of newly exposed skin as he pulled it down as far as it went. He shoved the black cloth greedily away from Arthur’s body, whining when a pair of boots stopped him from tugging it all the way off. “Boots off,” the paladin practically commanded, then added hastily, “please, Arthur.” 

Arthur half-sat to yank his boots off, letting them tumble noisily to the metal floor. Danse took the opportunity to remove his boots, too, not wanting to waste more time later. Then, he straddled the younger man’s waist, nudged him back down onto the mattress, tugged the jumpsuit the rest of the way off, and tossed it aside before settling down between Arthur’s legs. 

Almost instantly, Arthur’s fingers slipped through Danse’s hair, tangling into the dark strands, pulling gently to guide the paladin closer to his cock. Danse reached for the waistband to the younger man’s underwear, then stopped short, smothering another smirk as he dipped his head down to press his tongue to Arthur’s clothed tip. If undressing the Elder without permission was too bold, then teasing him was worse. It was illogical, but Danse was far past the point of logic, wanted to tongue Arthur a bit through the fabric, wanted to see him as desperate as Danse felt inside, wanted him to demand more. Then, Danse would be a good boy and give him everything he wanted.

Arthur muffled a faint whine behind pressed-together lips. Danse tried not to smirk into the Elder’s cock and kept licking at the head. 

“Never—hah—never pegged you as the type to tease, Danse,” Arthur said, voice tense and breathless, as his hips jerked a little. 

“Mmh,” Danse moaned in response, the sound softened by the now-damp cotton under his tongue. He licked up Arthur’s length next, feeling the Elder throb satisfyingly beneath his lips. His own cock demanded attention then, and he started grinding lazily into the mattress, whimpering at the not-quite-enough relief the motion brought.

“Fuck, Danse…be a good boy and wrap that pretty mouth around my cock already.”

It was only then that Danse tipped his gaze up to look at Arthur, flushing reflexively at the promised praise and endearment to match the color in the younger man’s cheeks. 

“Yes, Elder,” Danse answered obediently as he dragged the boxer briefs away from Arthur’s body.

“Fuck,” Arthur breathed again, softly, before Danse’s lips even touched him, and then again, more coarsely this time, when the paladin slid him into his mouth. He went carefully at first, took him only halfway before he stopped to let himself adjust to the feeling. It had been so very long since Danse had last done this; the slight bump of the holotag against his chest reminded him of that. No, don’t think of it, not now, he pleaded silently with himself. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind to refocus on Arthur’s pleasure, massaging his tongue along the Elder’s length as he curled his fingers around the base and started to pump. 

Arthur wasn’t going to make it easy for Danse to take things slowly, thrusting up into the paladin’s mouth as he tugged again at the dark hair between his fingers. Danse nearly gagged but wouldn’t let himself, swallowed through the clench in his throat and took everything his Elder gave him. “That’s it, good boy,” Arthur breathed in response, his praise interwoven with hot, shallow breaths as the slip of his fingers through Danse’s hair grew tender and encouraging. “Just like that.” 

Danse moaned into a mouthful of cock from the praise alone, wanted, needed, ached for more. He worked his tongue along Arthur’s length one more time, even as the younger man’s body continued, unconsciously, to seek more. Then, he took Arthur’s cock all the way to the base, his nose falling in between the Elder’s hips. Swallowing again, he started to bob his head up and down, loving the moan that slipped from Arthur’s lips as he did. 

But he loved what followed even more.

“Fuck, Danse, so good…you’re doing such a good job sucking my cock… you’re so good…” 

Arthur’s voice was getting faint and hazy, but Danse drank in those words like water in the middle of a scorching desert, working his mouth faster along the younger man’s cock, letting him thrust relentlessly despite the bit of wetness that filmed over the paladin’s vision at the corners of his eyes. Then came a rough tug at his hair and a low, desperate moan: “I’m close…”

Danse glanced up between Arthur’s legs to meet his gaze, breathing a dazed hum around the cock between his lips to let his Elder know it was okay to finish just like that.

“No, not yet.” Arthur shoved lightly against the top of Danse’s head. “Don’t wanna cum yet…not til I’m inside you.” 

Compliant, Danse pulled his mouth off Arthur’s thoroughly wet cock with a little slick sound. “Fuck me,” he begged in a near-whisper, well past the point of feeling shame at how badly he wanted it. 

“That’s all I want,” Arthur answered just as softly as he stood on his knees and eased Danse down to the mattress. Then, he moved to straddle the paladin’s hips, leaning down to strip away the rest of his clothes in one smooth motion. When the younger man climbed over him, cock nudging at his entrance, Danse breathed a needy exhale and braced his hands against Arthur’s hips. Precum dripped onto his stomach from how close they were to finally having each other, after all this time. 

Arthur stopped then, smoothing his hands along the paladin’s sides. “I can’t wait to bury myself inside you, but I don’t want to hurt you, I—” 

“Finger me, then,” Danse pleaded, the muscles around his entrance twitching needily at the thought of Arthur filling him to the hilt. “Get me ready to take all of you.” Then, his cheeks warmed all over again as his voice quieted further. “But be gentle with me...at least at first...it’s been—Do you have anything to, ah—to make it easier?” 

“I don't think I have—” Arthur's gaze darted frantically around the room, settling at last on the door to his private restroom. “Would beard oil work? It's not scented or anything, just oils...” 

Danse nodded stiffly. “Just—just get it already... now... I’m so—need to be filled...Arthur, come on...” 

“You really are adorable, Danse.” Arthur stood, then leaned down to press a brief, sweet kiss to the paladin’s lips. Danse felt the younger man’s lips curl into a smirk against his own, and he breathed a soft whine into the kiss. “You’re just so beautiful like this, wanting me, needing me so badly...so perfect...I don't want anyone else to have this, Danse. I want you to be all mine. Only mine.” 

“I’m yours, Arthur,” Danse breathed as he leaned up to steal another hungry kiss from the lips that had spoken the exact words he’d ached to hear all this time. “All yours. Only yours.”

Arthur brought his lips so temptingly close to Danse’s, only to pull away. “Good boy,” he murmured sweetly as he climbed out of bed. Danse whined then, so full to the brim with desperation he felt he might break apart, even though he knew why, even though he’d expected Arthur to get up, even though he’d been the one who’d asked. It hadn’t bothered him much to know what he’d been missing over the past couple years he’d gone without, but now that he was nearly there, now that it was Arthur, he felt as though he couldn’t wait another second. 

Danse inched a hand between his legs to pump his cock in slow, firm strokes as he watched Arthur disappear into the restroom, whimpering a little as more precum dripped between his fingers. Flushed, panting, he sank his teeth into his bottom lip and fought to keep his hand from speeding up. Not too fast... he couldn’t cum yet—

“You couldn’t wait for even a minute?” 

When Danse snapped his head up, his gaze met Arthur’s hungry blue eyes and then darted away just as quickly while the younger man climbed over him. “I—”

“It's okay, Danse.” He’d half-expected Arthur to tease him for his impatience, but instead, the Elder smoothed his thumb tenderly over Danse's cheek. His voice was low and soothing as he slicked a dropperful of the beard oil onto two fingers: “I know. I want this as badly as you do. I won’t keep you waiting much longer. I promise. I’ll give you all of me soon enough.” 

Then, Arthur slipped those two fingers smoothly inside.

There was a brief pang of discomfort despite the makeshift lubricant, and Danse tensed, fingers digging into the bedsheets beneath him. But Arthur kept going, sliding his fingers in and out of him, and after a few rhythmic motions, the pain melted into pleasure. The paladin breathed a shuddering sigh and lifted his hips to meet each thrust of Arthur’s fingers, his grip on the bedsheets tightening as though he’d lose it if he didn’t anchor himself to something. It felt dizzyingly good, and at the same time not enough.  

After no time at all, he was a mess of whimpers and twitching hips in Arthur’s hands, wordlessly seeking more than what two fingers could provide, even two fingers that were relentlessly fucking him. 

It was then that Arthur leaned down, placing his lips against the shell of Danse’s ear to whisper, “Are you ready for me?” 

“Yes,” Danse moaned, then tangled his fingers in the Elder’s hair to pull him in for an urgent kiss, lips taut against Arthur’s. “Yesyesyes.” 

Arthur pulled his hand away only to slick his cock with more of the oil. Danse was patient this time, chewed his lip only a little as he waited, watching the younger man pump his cock until it was slippery all over. Gripping the paladin’s hip with one hand, Arthur eased Danse’s thighs further apart with the other and settled in between them, tip nudging again at his entrance. Danse pulled in one last trembling breath. And then, finally, finally, Arthur buried himself all the way inside. 

The moan that followed belonged not to Danse, but to Arthur, who had his head tipped back and eyes screwed shut in overwhelming, encompassing pleasure as his thighs molded to the paladin’s hips. Danse exhaled sharply, body motionless beneath him, trying to adjust to being filled so completely after years of having nothing but his own two fingers, and not often at that. 

And then Arthur started moving, and Danse moved with him as he breathed an unrestrained moan at the rhythmic slip of Arthur’s cock in and out of him. He no longer had any control over the sounds he was making or the desperate jerk of his hips or the way his fingertips dug into the younger man’s back and shoulders (the thought of the Elder striding about the Prydwen the next morning with a trail of faint bruises hidden beneath his black jumpsuit that secretly marked him as Danse’s and Danse’s alone sent a heated shiver along the paladin’s spine). He’d placed all that control squarely in Arthur’s hands, trusting he wouldn’t twist it or abuse it. And he didn’t want it back. Not tonight. 

“Danse,” Arthur moaned then, a sound that was at once soft and aching as he gripped the paladin’s hips a little tighter and thrust a little faster. “Danse, Danse,” he moaned again, voice no louder than before but far needier this time, lips still parted once the paladin’s name had spilled from them. Danse had never been good at reading people, but it felt in that moment, when Arthur’s eyes locked on him, that there were a multitude of unspoken words in their pale blue depths, that he meant to say more but couldn’t make his lips form any shape other than Danse . Or at least, that was what Danse wanted to think. He imagined, to the extent he could still think of anything at all through the climbing pleasure of being fucked thoroughly, that Arthur’s mind was filled with nothing but him while he filled his paladin with every last bit of him. 

Then, Danse felt Arthur’s fingers curl around his cock to stroke him hard and fast as the younger man gritted his teeth and snapped his hips faster yet. Danse moaned rather loudly at the feeling, not caring how he sounded, needing Arthur to know exactly what he was doing to him. Arthur answered by breathing the paladin’s name and then pressing a heated kiss to his lips. They kissed and nipped and bit until Danse’s lips started to feel sore, until that telltale feeling of pressure started up in his core, heavy and hot and desperate. “Arthur...close...” was all he managed, his words nothing more than faint whimpers. 

“Almost...there...” Arthur groaned between ragged breaths. Then: “Good boy, Danse...” 

Danse had intended to hold on until Arthur hit his peak, had tried, but those brief, praising words made him lose it completely. The pressure loosened, and the hot feeling in his core rushed throughout his body and exploded up dizzily behind his eyes, and then Arthur’s name was on his lips as his release dripped hot and sticky onto his stomach and the younger man’s fingers. Arthur followed him just a moment later,  breathing “Danse” over and over again, his grip almost unbearably tight on the paladin’s hips as he thrust through his climax, each successive motion slower than the last. 

When they’d both finished, Arthur collapsed forward onto Danse’s chest, breathing hard, as though he was too overwhelmed and exhausted to even pull out just yet. Head still blissfully empty, Danse didn’t care that Arthur was still buried inside him. He lifted an arm and draped it around the younger man’s shoulders, shutting his eyes for a moment, needing nothing other than to feel him close. 

“Fuck.”

Danse’s eyes snapped open to the sound of Arthur’s weary voice as the younger man pulled out at last and flopped down onto the bed.

“Literally,” Danse shot back with a dazed smirk.

Arthur huffed in amusement as he playfully poked the tip of Danse’s nose, then pulled him in closer, arms encircling the paladin’s waist. Danse settled his head on the younger man’s chest and breathed a satisfied sigh as their legs tangled. He brought a hand up to clutch weakly at Arthur’s shoulder, thumb brushing idly over his sweat-damp skin. 

They spent a while just like that, limp in each other’s arms, spent and drained, barely noticing the cum and sweat that slicked their bodies, wanting only to linger in that quiet, peaceful closeness as the last aftershocks of pleasure ebbed out of them. 

When at last the fog cleared from Danse’s mind, his gaze darted to the mess of papers strewn across the desk at the opposite side of the room. He breathed a brief, delirious chuckle at the sight. 

Arthur leaned up to press a kiss to the side of the paladin’s head. “What’s so funny, Danse?” he asked with his lips skimming Danse’s temple. 

“Just that I’ve been to your quarters twice now, and both times we’ve wound up in each other’s arms, albeit under two entirely different sets of circumstances, and we still haven’t gotten to my report.”

Arthur answered with a little chuckle of his own. “Mm, I suppose we ought to do that. It would be irresponsible of us not to, wouldn’t it?” 

Danse nodded reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to lie there with his head on Arthur’s chest until the light of morning beckoned them out of bed. Then, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, moving as slowly as possible to savor every last second of his Elder’s touch as he reached for his jumpsuit and underwear, which lay in a discarded heap next to the bed.

Arthur’s arms molded around Danse’s waist then, pulling him back down onto the mattress. “Oh no, you don’t,” he commanded, then kissed slowly along the paladin’s still-bare back. 

“I was just going to get dressed so we can review—” Danse started to explain. 

“Just because we’re finally going over this report of yours doesn’t mean we have to be formal about it,” Arthur interrupted. Danse glanced over his shoulder at the younger man, watching those striking blue eyes glimmer. “It’s not as though Quinlan or Kells or anyone else is in the room with us.” 

“Thank fuck,” Danse breathed with a taut chuckle.

Arthur laughed too, a warm and inviting sound that Danse caught himself wanting to hear much more often. “Can you imagine?”

Danse flushed again. “I’d rather not.” 

“Well...you know what sounds good to me?” Arthur said, the slightest, softest smile curving his lips. “The two of us, leaning against my headboard, arms around each other while we talk through your report. What do you think?” 

“I’d like that very much,” Danse answered quietly, unable to wipe the smile from his own lips. Then, he gestured with his hands toward the desk. “But someone does have to get up and get the damn thing, you know.”

“True.” Reluctantly, Arthur let go of Danse’s waist.

Once the slightly rumpled pages of the report were in Danse’s hands, he felt a strange pang of forgotten pain as he recalled the words he’d printed across them. He climbed almost numbly back into Arthur’s bed, his lips refusing for a moment to form words. To write of the horrors his squad had faced over the past several months had been one thing. To speak them aloud, to give voice to the struggling and suffering and loss, was another entirely.

But then, Danse felt Arthur’s arm encircle his waist like it belonged there, and he found his voice. Having Arthur at his side made it feel a little easier.

They began talking through the squad’s journey through the Commonwealth, conversation flowing freely between them at first. But with each new setback Danse described, it got harder and harder to keep composed. Arthur seemed to know exactly when it hurt, kissed the paladin’s shoulder every time his voice wavered, held him a little tighter when they discussed the  circumstances leading to the loss of a squadmate. 

Then, they got to the part about the squad’s attempted raid on Fort Strong. 

Danse’s voice started to shake. His vision blurred over at the corners. He blinked furiously to push back the tears that wanted to break free. Of all the fates that could have befallen Knight-Sergeant Dawes, it had to be supermutants. It had to be a pack of the same sort of creature that had taken his first love and twisted him into something unrecognizable, something beyond salvaging—a ruined, stolen life that Danse had ended with his silenced 10mm.  

He talked until the lump in his throat began to hurt. He talked until he couldn’t talk anymore. Then, before he could stop it, Danse let out a single sob.

“Danse...”

Arthur's voice was soft and full of concern but not pitying as he brought his free hand up to rest delicately on the paladin’s shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Danse mumbled. “It's...it’s fine. I’m fine.” He cleared his throat and tried to finish what he’d been saying. 

The moment his lips parted, another sob slipped out. 

He buried his face into the curve of the younger man’s neck, desperate to fight back his tears, to block out the rest of the world, to reduce his reality to the size of Arthur’s comforting closeness. But somehow Arthur’s protective hold served only to coax to the surface every feeling that Danse had been holding back since the first of his squadmates had fallen. He found, in the hand that was now rubbing gently up and down his back, in the warmth of Arthur’s skin against his lips, a strange kind of safety that made all his emotions rush out of him before he even understood what was happening. 

The next thing he knew, his cheeks were warm and slick, tears pushing their way out from the corners of his squeezed-shut eyes. 

“Danse,” Arthur said again, voice so soft it was almost inaudible, barely even a whisper.

“Hurts so much,” Danse managed in a shaky voice. All the words he could have said were lost to thick, shuddering, choking sobs. 

“Shh, Danse, shh,” Arthur soothed, fingertips tracing tiny circles onto Danse’s bare back. “I know. I know.” Danse still couldn’t speak, could only sob, so he gripped the younger man’s shoulders harder instead. “Come here,” Arthur whispered, “come here.”

Drowning in his own tears, Danse could scarcely comprehend how they could get any closer, until Arthur guided him down to the mattress and wrapped him up tightly in his arms. Danse nuzzled up beneath the younger man’s chin and cried harder than he’d ever cried before in his life. Arthur let him, hand still running tenderly along the paladin’s back. “I can’t change what happened,” Arthur soothed over Danse’s trembling sobs, “and I can’t just take all your pain away, but I can promise you won’t have to face it alone. Not anymore. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Arthur’s sweet words managed to soothe away Danse’s sobs, but the tears still dripped, defiant in their relentlessness, from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks. The younger man tilted Danse’s chin up to press a kiss to his tear-slick lips, then kissed all over the paladin’s face, lips brushing every place where Danse’s pain flowed out of him until there was nothing left to flow. 

They stayed like that for a long time, saying nothing at all, Danse’s head resting on Arthur’s chest, the Elder’s fingers combing tenderly through Danse’s hair, until his cheeks dried and his breaths settled in his chest. 

“We can finish going over the report some other time,” Arthur said quietly after what felt like forever.

Danse shook his head against the younger man’s chest. “No. We should finish now. Delaying further won’t make it easier. I’d feel better if we just got it out of the way. And besides…I can handle it if you’re here.” 

“You know I am, Danse,” Arthur answered. 

So they propped themselves up against the headboard and talked through the rest of the report. Having finally worked all those emotions out of him, Danse got through the final few pages with more ease than he’d expected. It still hurt, of course, but the ache was dulled by Arthur’s steady hold on his waist. Afterward, they talked at length about the Brotherhood’s next steps, planned to search for what was left of Recon Squad Artemis to gain closure on the previous team’s fate and recover any useful information they may have gathered, brainstormed other locations to investigate. 

“All right,” Arthur said when they’d finished. “I think we have a solid plan here.” Then, he paused, caressing Danse’s cheek with his thumb. “You know, when I said I wanted you to be mine and only mine, I didn’t mean just—well…just sex,” he said next, voice quiet and hesitant. “When I said I wasn’t going anywhere, I didn’t mean just tonight. I…I feel like…like we might have…something…I don’t know, it’s—”

Arthur trailed off then, the warm glow of the lamp illuminating the pink tint to his cheeks just enough for Danse to take notice. 

The paladin felt his heart thump a little faster in his chest.

“Are—are you saying that you…” His own voice faltered, overtaken by worry that he might be misreading Arthur’s intentions—and hope that he wasn’t. He didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, only that he wanted Arthur close like this over and over again, that he didn’t want Arthur this close to anyone else. “That…that you want us…” Danse drew in a deep breath. “To be in a—”  His lips stubbornly refused to form the R word. “To be…together? Or…something?” he finished quickly, cheeks hot by the end of it. 

“Together,” Arthur echoed faintly, contemplatively, as though Danse had just suggested a novel concept that had nothing to do with what he’d said a moment ago. “Yes, I think that’s what I want. Or…something. I just don’t want tonight to be the last time we can be like this.” 

“I don’t, either,” Danse whispered as he pressed his lips to Arthur’s chin. “I want to be with you, too.” Then, he trailed kisses along the younger man’s jaw all the way to his earlobe. “Mine,” he breathed in a soft, low voice. 

Arthur nipped teasingly at Danse’s neck. “All mine.” 

Danse shivered hotly then. He knew Arthur felt him tremble ever so slightly. It would have been so easy to let the feeling carry them away again, like leaves swept down a churning river, but Arthur stopped just short of going further, instead placing his lips tenderly against the paladin’s cheek. After tonight, it seemed there would be plenty of opportunities for more of that later. 

“I…don’t very much feel like returning to my own bed at this point,” Danse admitted in a low voice, not ready to untangle himself from Arthur just yet. 

“Then don’t,” Arthur whispered as he took Danse’s hands in his and lifted them until they were at eye level. He pressed a slow, soft kiss to the paladin’s knuckles. “I don’t want you to.” He shifted his lips to Danse’s other hand and kissed him there twice. “Stay the night.” 

Danse had never been kissed like that before. The tender brush of the younger man’s lips against his hand made him feel so very warm inside, and his cheeks warmed to match. 

Arthur was rather good at coloring Danse’s face every shade of pink. 

Danse was already starting not to mind it. 

He made no effort to smother the smile that curved his lips. 

“You know I will, Arthur.”