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It was a bone-deep itch that Vulpus felt every time he donned the clothes of the prolific ate society. Not only did he feel more restrained, more confided in the three-piece suit he wore, but it felt wrong against his skin, disgusting in a way. This was everything he was against; this was everything he had been trained to hate, but he knew his ability to warp his image and blend in was a specialty of his. One Ceaser knew as well, and when he was commanded to wear these clothes, it was for the betterment of the Legion, no matter his disgust. He’d never defy his leader in any sense, no orders, no implications, nothing would make the Desert Fox falter in his loyalty.
So it was with nothing but a reluctant thought that Vulpus wore these clothes, slinking around the Strip with a fake stumble in his steps to blend in with the other drunks and addicts strewed around the area. His target was easy to spot, not just with the wild purple hair, but there was an unmistakable gleam in his eye, and a streak of blood adored on his cheek. He didn't look much different from how he had when Vulpus first met the Courier in Nipton, still the same sharp glimmer in those dark eyes and this smile that would have made a lesser man want to crawl out of their skin. The Frumentarii was a stronger man than most, so there was no immediate need to shudder from the short man he had met on that short road, but that didn't mean the Desert Fox underestimated him by any means.
No, even with a stature shorter than most, what seemed to be an underwhelming build and the sweet scent of chems nearly radiating off the Courier, Vulpus wasn’t a fool.
There was something dangerous about this creature, and his Lord Ceaser was wise to want to keep an eye on him.
And that was what the Fox did, following closely behind this man to watch his every step till he made it into the Tops. Though Vulpus was reluctant to admit anything, he had felt a bit impressed at the destruction the prolific left in his wake, particularly in the ruins of Bolder City, whistling along with the radio as he swung the dog tags of the men he had ruthlessly blown and shot to bits to help the Great Khans escape. Though Vulpes had been a ways away, he could still spot the joy that seemed to permeate through the Courier at the death he had reigned down.
Ruthless, smart, cunning, and unsuspecting. Perhaps this man could be of use to the Legion.
And it seemed Ceaser had followed those same thoughts, giving him a Mark to pass onto the Courier for passage into The Fort.
Vulpes waited for the moment the man emerged from The Tops, with that shine of blood upon his cheek, before he finally approached, ready to give his practiced speech but before he could even utter a word, the man on the top of the steps smiled down to him.
“Hello, Mr.Fox.”
The voice was sickly sweet, spoken in a soft sort of manner that had Vulpes not memorized the details of the Courier’s features and mannerisms over the past several days, he would have thought he had the wrong man. But no, this was the Courier, this heart faced shaped, far too white teethed man was the one he had been designated to give the Mark to. He could feel it burning in his hand, as if it would be easier to just throw this at the man than run, but Vulpes didn’t get so far in the Legion listening to those instincts. Instead, he steadied himself, easing his own threatening smile onto his lips.
“Hello, Courier.” He watched as the other’s smile grew just a little wider, as if the voice of the Frumentarii was a song he had been waiting to hear. The man stayed where he was on the steps, using that little bit of height to look down his soft nose at the Desert Fox, as if he had the winning hand in this exchange. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if you were going to follow me onto the Strip. I would not think Ceaser’s finest would be allowed to be surrounded in such sin.” Again, there was something about the man’s voice that made the hair on Vulpes neck stand straight up, his body’s way of warning him that danger lurked near. “I do what is necessary for the Legion. I do not partake in the sinful ways, but if I must blend into the crowd, I will do as my Lord commands.” He was sure to keep his voice low, to keep an eye on those who tried to linger close to the men’s conversations, but it seemed the Courier shared no such worries of being overheard. “As I would expect from one of the Legion’s finest. What good dogs you all are, so loyal, so attentive.” Had those words come from any other, the Frumentarii would have killed them where they stood, but Vulpes was no brute; he could easily discern these words as needles, meant to poke for a reaction. “If my Lord demands it, I would bring in the heart of whoever he wishes on a platter, covered in the blood of those who would try to stop me.”
There came a snort from the man above.
“Cute.”
That actually managed to boil the Fox’s blood a little, but before he could bite back, the Courier was already talking.
“Well Mr.Fox, why don’t we step in for a drink? It’ll be on me, of course. It seems there are a few eyes on us, wondering what we could possibly be talking about out here instead of at the bar.”
Vulpes was quick to scan around and there was indeed a few people giving the two some strange looks, muttering to the friends they stood with. He narrowed his eyes at the smiling man. “There’s no need, I only have a delivery to make.” The Courier laughed at him, as if the Legionary were a fool. “Come now, we’re old friends, aren’t we? Allow me to treat you, you did after all make such a long trip to find me.” There was a time in every fight that Vulpes would consider his playing field; this was no different. Even if he managed to get the Mark into the hands of the shorter man, he feared there would still be suspicion surrounding him and while he feared no NCR, it would make it harder to sneak back onto the Strip if he were followed and had to kill those who spied on him. It seemed, inadvertently or very purposefully, the Courier had forced him into a corner with a hand reached out to pull him out. Though this could easily turn for the worse, where the man could take his hand and then scream to the streets that the top of the Legion Frumentarii Vulpes Inculta was here, the Desert Fox saw this as very low. Though he could not determine if there was even any interest from the Courier to the Legion, it was obvious he held no love for the NCR.
So, Vulpes stepped onto the stairs, gesturing to the doors behind.
“After you.”
The Tops couldn’t have been anymore of what everything Vulpes despised. Loud jeers of drunks, the sticky wet air that seemed to permeate with chems, the sounds of money being flushed away to the House as people cursed their losses. The Courier, though, seemed unbothered by these things; if anything, he seemed to thrive under the yellowing lights as he took a drink from the whiskey bottle he had the bartender leave for him. Vulpes didn’t even truly drink the beer he had ordered; he would only bring it to his lips but kept them sealed as he pretended to drink from the bottle. This seemed to amuse the other man, as he watched the Desert Fox from the corner table they had chosen to settle in, just enough away from any prying ears. “You can't let yourself have even the slightest bit of fun, can you?” A snort made its way out of the Legionary. “This is what you would call fun?” He asked, with a sneer in his voice. A shrug came from the shorter man as he leaned back into his chair with his hands across his chest. “I indulge in anything I can get my hands on, chems, drink, gambling, blood shed. I find quite a few things fun.” Vulpes couldn’t help the eye roll, even if he had tried. “You would prolifigate. You blend in perfectly with the filth.” The Courier huffed out a laugh. “Are you truly surprised? I chose to live my life to the fullest I can. I won’t deny myself anything; I indulge in whatever my hearts desire.” His smile was too easy as he spoke, eyes lidded in a way that clued in the Desert Fox that the man had probably already been indulging in drinks before walking out of The Tops. “Including bloodshed?” The ‘of the NCR’ was unspoken, but Vulpes knew the Courier was sharp and the flash of teeth he got in response was enough to know he was understood. “I don’t like good doers telling me what to do; I prefer to back the strongest pack.” Those dark eyes slid up and down the body of the Frumentarii in what the man figured was to size him up. “The Legion is the strongest there is.” A shrug was the Courier’s response, taking his time to take a long, slow drink of his dark alcohol. Feeling the timing was proper, the Desert Fox went to reach into his pocket for Ceaser’s Mark when the other man stood from the table, looking over his shoulder for a moment before returning those eyes to Vulpes.
The look in them made those hairs stick up again.
“Join me for a few rounds at the cards table? I always love wowing an audience.”
Vulpes raised his brow. “You wish to wow me with a prolifiagate spectacle?” He snorted despite himself. “You might be surprised at how much I can wow.” The courier smirked.
Again, Vulpes found himself backed into a corner with nothing but the Courier with another outstretched hand.
“Let us see if you can impress, prolifigate.”
And loath as he was to admit it, the Courier was impressive.
He timed his card turns perfectly, confident in every move as he stared down the dealer with those dark eyes. Vulpes could see the sweat building on the other man’s face as he played for the house, teeth gritting tighter and tighter as the shorter man made win after win after win. He was fast, confident, and even when there was a moment of bad luck, the Courier did not let anything show. That easy-going grin never faltered for even a second, even as his winnings dwindled down, down, down. Only 200 chips were left on his side, yet nothing ever made the corners of his mouth tremble. “An impressive display.” Vulpes had jabbed. When those eyes slide over to him, he found goosebumps trailing up his arms. “Never doubt those with nothing to lose.” Was southerly whispered as the shorter man bet everything before cueing the dealer to start. The Desert Fox’s eyes flickered to the cards and he nearly cursed aloud as he saw a Jack and Ace staring back at him with the dealer no longer able to contain his frustration. The climb back was fast, round after round going in favor to the Courier until the floor manager stormed over, telling the shorter man he was done at the tables and to take his earnings as his. Vulpes followed in a bit of a daze as the younger man glided up the stairs, counting his caps as he exchanged out his chips. The Legionary frowned. “You cheated?” He accused, but in a quiet tone so as not arouse suspicion. A boisterous laugh came from the shorter man as he slid his earnings, nearly 10,000 caps, into the bag he had slung around his shoulder.
“I’m just that lucky.” He smiled threateningly, sharp canines on display.
Vulpes growled against his will, feeling as if he had been played for his time, shoving his hand once again in his pocket and ready to push it onto the Coiurier than take his leave back to the Fort. He had spent too much time deep in sin, and he wanted a breath of fresh air.
Once again, he found himself pausing as the other man spoke.
“Care to join me in my presidential suite? It’ll give us the privacy you seem to be itching to get to, though I will warn you, there’s still some blood on the carpet.”
Vulpes knew at this point he was most definitely walking into a trap. What could the courier possibly want with him in a room alone but to kill the Desert Fox? Again, while he seemed to despise the NCR, he had not done anything to help the Legion to victory. If anything, he seemed to be ignoring their presence in the Wasteland. However, his Lord Ceaser expected success on this mission, the Mark was going to make it into the shorter man’s hands and he was expected at The Fort. Yes, Vulpes could shove the Mark in the man’s hands and leave this den of degeneracy and return to his Lord’s rightful placed. From the spying he been doing on this man, he knew he was not going to act out in front of a crowd; he may of hated it, but on this Casino floor, the Desert Fox was the safest. However, there was something… more pulling the Legionary into this lair of danger.
This Courier, this man who had been shot in the head and crawled from the jaws of death, was unlike anyone Vulpes had ever witnessed. He was downright evil in a way the people of the Wastes usually accused the Legion of being, but always exaggerating the deeds of the army to something so much worse.
This man was that so much worse.
He killed without mercy; he had wiped the entirety of the town, those who had saved him from the grave, because the Powdered Gangers wanted it. But even then, the Desert Fox noticed something more. The Courier had smiled, wide and crazed as he helped gun down those people who attempted to band together to defeat the attackers. His laugh, he had god damn laughed, echoed through the little town, carrying into the winds and out to the Wastes. Almost like a warning. Primm was not able to avoid his wave of destruction as he purposely made it an easy path for the convicts to come and take over, not even giving them a chance at survival as he strolled through their homes, whistling along to the radio as he helped himself to their things. Then, of course, when he had exploded the NCR who had attempted to take back the prison from the uprising, singing loudly along to a song of the pre-war times about said prison while the crazed men around him crumpled to the ground under the force of the NCR. Single-handedly, the heart-shaped face man had decimated the forces with such ease, a full battle ton force (which Vulpes knew was more than enough to overrun a single elder Legionary), all the while singing.
Singing.
Intrigued was not a strong enough word to express Vulpes need to understand this Courier.
This man had waltzed into the Lucky 38 like he owned the place.
He had trekked across the Wastes to murder the man who had put a bullet in his brain.
He had murdered the said man in his own presidential suite, where Benny had invited him up and convinced him to go alone.
The same presidential suite, the Courier had extended an invitation to Vulpes.
He should say no.
To survive this encounter, he had to say no.
He swallowed against his dry throat, licking his lips in a slow motion which drawled the dark eyes from his own eyes to his lips, steadily keeping an eye on the movement before slowly looking back up.
The smile on his face twitched.
“Lead the way, prolifigate.”
How the tension in the elevator made the Desert Fox’s head turn into a haze.
It was stifling, almost like the entire weight of it was sitting directly on his chest, all coming from the Courier who was leaning coolly across the opposite side of the elevator, staring square at Vulpes.
His smile had not dropped once since the Legionary agreed to join him.
Vulpes had half a mind to jump across the small space and wrap his hands around that bastard’s neck, watch the life snuff out in the snowiest, most painful way possible, so the Legionary could watch the Courier’s life fade. He could snatch the Platinum chip from the shorter man’s body, cut the head from the body and bring it to his Lord’s feet, kneel before him and show how he could destroy the invincible Courier of the Mojave. His loyalty would never be questioned, his place by Ceaser would never be taken and he could help lead the Legion into bloody battle for the Dam with the sweet, blood-boiling knowledge that they were going to win no matter what, thanks to the death of the once important Courier.
It would be so easy, it would be so simple.
What stopped Vulpes from even twitching a finger was that he knew that if he to enact his wrath, that damn smile would never move from the Courier’s lips.
He’d never be safe as long as those canines were on display.
The elevator came to a jerky stop, two hundreds years without the proper maintenance and it was honestly a miracle they ran at all. The Desert Fox’s body gave just the slightest of a twitch, caught off guard at the sudden movement. He didn’t miss the way the shorter man’s body had not moved an inch, eyes still staring in, smile sitting strong. It was almost like a snake, the way he glided into the suite, finally choosing to look away from Vulpes as he headed towards the bar in the far corner of the room. A thick smell of blood permeated the air, and it was then that the Legionary noticed, as he looked down to the ground, he saw Benny, his head had been crudely hacked from his body, leaving it headless and suitless, left with nothing but his underwear and an arm reaching out. It seemed his luck ran out right at the moment he was about to reach the elevator. With an easy side step, Vulpes went to follow the Courier, seeing no alternative but to stick close to his host.
It didn’t take him long to notice what waited for him on the bar top.
Benny’s head, spiked onto a wine bottle, with the top of the neck sticking straight through the top of his hair. His mouth was wide open, stuck in a terrified screaming expression, with his eyes wide and bulging, almost looking like they were ready to explode. Blood reached the entirety of it, still fresh and shiny as it seemed to pour from every orifice he had. Death, it had seemed, came to him in the most brutal possible way. It was almost artistic, even the smell of blood added to the image, considering the man was still fresh, probably had been killed right after Vulpes approached the Courier. It was then that the shorter man stepped into view, two glasses in his hands, with a dark, rich brown liquid swirling. It was then, the Dessert Fox noticed the stains of red splitting up the corner of the man’s suit jacket, the one he had left unbutton with his tie loosely hanging down he silt shirt that laid beanth, a few more fo the buttons up down, a more lose image than the one he had when the two were int he casino, sitting at the card table. His collar bone stuck out more, prominent in this shorter man’s wiry frame, with the sharp angle far more prominent than it had been before, the checkered jacket he was wearing pushed back just that little bit.
Vulpes felt his throat go tight.
His eyes trailed to the arms of the Courier a jacket that almost seemed a size too big, sitting on his frame, with black and white patterns only disturbed by the faintest drops of blood scattered around.
The Legionary knew this ugly ass suit.
The Courier, than man he had spent at least a few hours with had been wearing the suit of the man who attempted to kill him with a bullet to the brain, one of the most powerful men in the Mojave, who had managed to steal the Platnium Chip, the man who was now laying dead with his body on the other half of the room and his head shoved onto a fucking wine bottle. His distinct clothes, his marker of his person, had been in front of Vulpes Inculta and he hadn’t fucking notice.
But he had noticed the man’s godforsaken smile.
For the first time in a very, very long time, the Desert Fox found himself deep in enemy territory with absolutely no idea of how he could possibly get out of it.
And for the first time in his life, he walked right into said territory without even realizing it.
Vulpes felt cold sweat slide down his back under the layers of his suit.
The Courier never stopped smiling.
He set the glasses on the bar, carefully but purposely sliding one of them towards the Legionary, who was quick to catch it, hoping the shake in his hand wasn’t as dramatic as he felt it was. Even if it was a notice, the heart-shaped-faced man never made an indication he saw, but at this point, Vulpes was not foolish enough to underestimate his enemy. The other man raised his glass, giving a solo toast before taking the drink down in such an easy fashion, like he was drinking the cleanest of waters before setting the glasses down again, giving a dramatic’ah’ as he did so. “Whiskey gets me like no other; something about it is like a religious experience.” His voice was a bit of a tease, said in a way that prodded something deep in Vulpes’ gut. As those dark eyes slid down to the Desert Fox’s drink, he knew what was expected of him, so without much thought, the older man brought the drink to his lips, begging Ceaser for forgiveness as he let the amber liquid down his throat. The burn was a brutal kick to the throat, making the Lrgionary tense up in an attempt to fight against the feeling as he brought his hand back down, the glass making a much louder sound than the Courier’s had. A laugh swirled around his head as he shut his eyes to concentrate through the feeling to attempt to fight his body’s desire to reject the intake of sin. When he managed to open his eyes again, the Courier had filled their glasses again, this time his own was doubled compared to Vulpes’. His hand gripped tighter on his glass, not missing the way the drink was cool against his sweaty palms. The Courier laughed as he brought his drink close. “You Legion boys really don’t ever indulge, an impressive feat on its own, but damn if you can’t handle any kick.” Again, the younger man knocked back his drink with ease, eyes rolling back in his head as he savored the flavor on his tongue.
It almost had Vulpes break the glass in his hand when the man suddenly moved, holding a finger to his mouth as his other hand reached into his pocket. “Mmm!” He swallowed the whiskey. “Where are my manners! I meant to make this nice for you.” The Desert Fox’s heart jumped to his throat at the words as he, much like a hawk, stared at the hand reaching into the pocket of Benny’s jacket. A lighter slipped from the fabric, a woman, dressed like an angle is engraved on it’s side.
It’s top flips open, and to the Legionary, the sound was like a nuke going off in the very quiet room.
Vulpes held his breath.
He watched, his heart pounding in his ears as the man reached up above the head of Benny, watching as at the top of the Chairman’s head sat a candle where the wine bottle was sticking out.
The wic caught quick.
“Ah! There we go!” The Courier’s bostrious voice was a shriek compared to the stillness of the air, the silence that was frozen it’s away around them. The Legionary bit down on the inside of his cheek in surprise, doing everything in his power to keep his body’s jump under control, trying his best to uphold his image of himself. “I’d hate to be anything but a courteous host; I don’t need you to tell Lord Caesar of my poor manners.” How easily the man spoke of the leader of the Legion, not a ounce of fear on his face as he surely spoke the man’s name, correctly as well, in comparison to all other Wastrel. Vulpes found himself leaning forward just a bit. “You want Lord Ceaser’s attention?” He asked, the hand on the glasses losing just the slightest bit of attention. His eyes though, went still as he watched the Courier’s body shift to cock a hip out, head tilting to the side as his soft voice spoke. “Perhaps, I can’t deny a little interest in the one behind the Bull, but” The shorter man leaned forward, too. “I know you’ve been talking about all my adventures to him anyway; you must also talk about my conduct.”
It wasn’t the first time in his life the Frumentarii had been caught spying, though no one had ever been brave enough to spit the fact back out in his face with such a knowing smile. There would be nothing to argue against, for even without a lick of evidence, Vulpes, restrained against his fight or flight, either would have a bloody defeat. “Only your more eccentric traits.” It was a desperate search for a footing, to try to get on equal ground with the Courier instead of being loomed over so. He wasn’t wrong after all, even before meeting in Nipton, Vulpes had started keeping his own eyes stuck to the man, ever since his foot stepped outside of that doctor's house. “Such as?” It was almost like a bite to the ear, those whispered words with too much glee in their vowels. The dry tickle in the Desert Fox’s throat turned into an itch. He kept his eyes looking into the heart-shaped face of the man as he took a slow drink from his glass still strangling under his grip. The whiskey burned again, like a razor gliding down, which really only added to the pain there. His voice had a sandpaper rasp as he spoke. “Your ability to slaughter for those who can provide you better.” A soft hum came from the younger man, a sign to continue. Ears ringing, lips drying, Vulpes answered more. “The boundary of social law does not hold you back; you will treat people however you wish as long as you are benefited.” A nod, a slowly deadly blink from the Courier. “You do not allow wrongs against yourself to go unpunished; you crush those who dare to tread under your foot. Even their souls will suffer your wraith in the afterlife, suffer for eternity.” Had the shorter man gotten closer? Vulpes was sure he hadn’t been able to smell the undertones of gunpowder in the sweet iron before. His skin screamed at himself, he needed to move, he needed to run, his life was about to end, and he was staring in the face of his killer.
“Tell me more.” A command from the Courier.
“You know that you alone can decide the fate of the Wasteland, it all lies at your fingertips.” When had Vulpes become so breathless?
Another curious hum from the younger man, leaning in even closer to Vulpes, in a way that he had to have moved from behind the bar; he must have been right in front of the Legionary by now. “Because of the Platinum Chip?”He asked low and quiet, almost like a purr. “No,” The Legionary was quick to respond. “The Wastes were at your disposal long before that thing came into your possession. Now, it is simply an easy goal for you to obtain.” His weight had shifted back in the chair, trying to put space between the two men, but how quickly the Courier was to fill said space, just a hair away from too close. “Very good answer, Legionary. Benny didn’t seem to think the same.” With a quick snap of his eyes to the Chairman’s face and back, he had just narrowly avoided a deathly trap.
The room was so quiet, somehow even worse than it had been before, where the Desert Fox didn’t dare to take a breath.
“The Legion admires your efforts.” He whispered out with what little air was in his lungs.
How that dam able smile, the one that hadn’t shifted this entire time, ever since the shorter man had laid eyes on fucking Vulpes, twitched up.
“Is it the Legion? Or is it just your personal opinion?”
A answer couldn’t even attempt to form before the shorter man slid his way into the Frumentarii’s lap, legs on either side of Vulpes’ hips, and arms wrapping around his neck, pulling himself in comfortably. It wasn’t much thought for the Desert Fox to reach down and grab the other’s hips, fingers tucking into the loop belt of those slightly too large pants. He could feel the loose fabric pull. “My opinion is high in the Legion.” He wasn’t sure why he was still talking, maybe a way to keep the Courier from snapping, turning into the bloodthirsty monster he had come to know. Vulpes felt the man’s body shake from the laugh he answered with, as his face trailed closer, their noses brushing past each other and the warmth of their lips pressing together. But he didn’t go for the obvious move, no, the Courier slipped past and his lips grazed across his cheek as he got to the ear. “In the very Ear of Lord Ceaser himself?” The words twisted their way into the Desert Fox’s brain, as if it had been screamed instead of whispered. “He values my input.” There was no hiding the shake in his voice, the rasp that came with it. “And when you see him after this, what will you tell him?” How the courier said it was as if there had been a joke there, a joke Vulpes didn’t understand yet wanted to desperately know. “That the Courier is a danger man,” His eyes flicked to the side, his head turning just slightly where the shorter man met him in the middle, their lips so damn close he could fill the other’s when he spoke. “A kind of danger that should be wielded.” The Courier’s brow rose. “What makes you think I can be leashed?” Vulpes shook his head just slightly. “Not leashed, a creature like you should be free. We will just hope to stay away from the bloody path you will lay waste to.”
A flicker in those deep eyes came, one that made the Legionary feel that this was where his life tittered most on the balance, that there would be no getting away from this if the Courier deemed it so.
“A very good answer, Frumentarii.”
Through all this, Vulpes would have never expected the next thing to happen was the Courier leaning in close and sealing their lips together, at first tentatively, but oh how quick he was to sure it filthy.
The arms around his neck shifted to grab his biceps and hold them tight in his heads, definetly digging bruises into that flesh even under the layers Vulpes wore. His tongue pushed its way into his mouth, easily prying itself past the Desert Fox’s teeth and searching every section he could reach. His hips dug forward, the fabric scratching together in a way that seemed to echo through the room. Vulpes froze under the actions, his brain completely broken as he felt the heat of the heart shaped face man emitting throughout his entire body. He didn’t stay frozen for long, though. He surged forward into the kiss, pushing the Courier’s tongue out of his way as he took his own time to explore the teeth in his mouth. His hands tightened around the waist, hipbones digging into his palms as he hefted up, slamming the shorter man into the bar top with little regard if it had hurt. From the sound he felt go into his mouth, it must have, but the hands on his arms went tight, the shorter man’s hips grinned up as he did. Everything was so overwhelming,moving, the sweat under his stuffy clothes, the stench of blood soaking throughout the suite, the pain digging into his body, the screaming of his lungs with desperate need for air, but it wasn’t enough; he needed more.
It was easy to start pulling at the loose pants of the younger man; they were close to falling out of him anyway, but right as Vulpes made this move, a hand shot up to his short hair with a ruthless grip, nearly snapping his head back as a pain grunt pushed out of his mouth. The Courier ‘tsk’ed at the older man, shaking his head a little as he pushed his face into the pale neck now open to him. “I didn’t say you could touch me, doll.” A tongue just barely brushed across the Legionary’s jugular, a slight pressure against the blood pumping there. An apology wanted to shake its way past Vulpes’ lips, but he swallowed it away in fear of showing any weakness. He felt teeth graze along his tight muscles. “Now, since I’m holding the cards here, I think I have a say and just what happens. What could the Frumentarii possibly say? No? That would be rich, considering the sharp upward angle of his neck and his hands uselessly gripped against those stupid pants. Those lips came back up to his ear. “I gotta a little mess you see, and I think your tongue is going to be the best at cleaning it. You certainly know how to make them; you must know how to make something spotless.” The courier mused, teeth digging into the older man’s lob, causing him to make a strangled noise, one that could have been a whine had Vulpes not caught himself. He could feel that the heart-shaped-faced man expected a response, so he licked his cracked lips. “Yes.” He rasped out, praying to no one that it would be good enough to appease the younger man.
It did, thankfully, as the hand in his hair loosened, giving him the ability to move his head back into place to stare back at the younger man and his sharp-toothed smile.
“Then you'd better get on your knees, Mr.Fox.”
The world seemed to slow to a crawl as the Desert Fox’s limbs tingled as he got to move them, setting the younger man on top of the counter before slowly trailing his hands down the body of the Courier as he knelt down. There was that strong husky smell again, and as he let his eyes trail down the other man, he noticed a distinct lack of bludge waiting for him at the crotch. But there was a dark stain there. Vulpes glanced up at the smiling man. “Don’t be surprised at what you find down there, doll. I hate being made a spectacle of.” A threat laced those words, one that shook the older man to his core and he decided making the heart shaped faced man man wait would only make things work, so he willed his hands to start to undress him. Due to the looseness of the clothes, the button and pants unzipped easily, even with the shake in his fingers as he worked. A hand returned to his hair but instead of the tight grip from before, it was a soft, gentle touch with cooes coming fron the younger man as those dark eyes stayed on his movements. Not wanting to make the younger man wait any longer, Vulpes gripped his underwear as well and pulled them from his legs, easing them down and off with a little help from the Courier. His breath hitched at the sight before him.
A glistening pussy, with a cock like clit poking out from wiry hair and shining with arousal that flooded all of Vulpes’ senses. There was also a trickle of white coming from the hole laying in wait, the area around it slightly reddened and swollen like he had taken a decent pounding not very long ago. The Frumentarii’s eyes flickered to the head of Benny for but a second, but he should have known it wouldn’t have avoided the Courier’s attention. “Well, I had to let him get one off right before a bullet to the head. Gave him more kindness than he gave me, ain’t I just a saint?” Something twisted inside the Desert Fox as his mind supplied him with an image of those two in bed, that profligate Chairman fucking deep into the Courier, all the while the younger man lay there with a smile, knowing just what he was going to do to Benny. He wondered if the shorter man let him get dressed before putting that bullet in the back of his head, or if the gun pulled out right when the other man only managed to get the underwear off, where he ran to the elevators before the sharp shot rang out.
Vulpes felt his cock give an ache.
Knowing the Courier, the Desert Fox didn’t start with a tentative lick, instead he rushed his face forward and let his tongue lave over the white trickling its way out of the other’s hole. The hand in his hair went a little tighter but more out of encouragement than anything, noises unrestrained as they slipped from the younger man’s mouth along with the slightest stutter of his hips. A taste of salt and musk filled the older man’s mouth, a sort of intoxicating taste filling the Legionary’s mouth as his mouth took in the bitter cum. He wanted to turn his head to spit out that proligate’s seed, not wanting anything so disgusting to taint his body, but there was still that hand in his hair, not giving him any room to pull away for anything, so, reluctantly, he swallowed it down. At least there was slick from the Courier mixed into it all, a taste of heaven swirled around it all. The man kept Vulpes close to his cunt, canting his hips forward so the Legionary’s tongue could go as deep as possible, pulling out more cum which he could feel trickle down the side of his mouth. Sloppy sounds filled throughout the room, mixed with those little huffs coming from the younger man's as Vulpes continued his menstrations, taking in the warmth of the pussy all around his tongue. He wasn’t sure how long he was there, clearing out the mess of the Chairman from the shorter man; it felt like hundreds of mouthfuls until he could no longer taste any of the salt of the dead man’s cum. He was sure to place a kiss on that hole as he finally got to pull away, short gasps jerking his body as he desperately took in air. His eyes lulled opened, there was not a trace of anything but slick and spit on the younger man’s cunt, feeling the hand in his hair give him a gentle pat.
A quick glance up and the Legionary could see there were words on the Courier’s tongue, ready to give another command, but Vulpes felt he didn't need them. He lurched forward again, this time sealing his lips around the engorged clit before giving a thorough suck. If he had more eyes, the Desert Fox would have loved seeing the man above him lurch and curse, scramble around for something to hold on to as pleasure bursted through him but instead he just had to depend on his thoroughly trained ears and imagination to fill in the rest. “Fu-! You smart fucking bastard!” That soft voice was pitchy now, those hands in his hair held him tight and close, but it wasn’t like the older man's as going to go anywhere. “A d-dog who d-doesn’t need g-guidance is a-a gift for s-sure~.” The courier whined, following it with a dark chuckle as he thrust his ckit into the other man’s mouth like he could fuck the man’s throat. Vulpes didn’t give any reprieve, willing himself to stay connected to the younger man until his need to breathe made him pull anyway if only for a moment, before returning his mouth, sucking in every bit of the nub as he could. It had been a long while since Vulpes had bedded anyway, even longer since he had given head to someone with a pussy and all of those had been slaves, none of whom had ever been built quite like the Courier. His mind wanted to see the rest of the young man; he wanted to see just what he had done to his body to hide his womanly parts to blend into the population as a man. Obviously, he had done enough because even Vulpes hadn’t known this secret, though he was starting to doubt all the intel he gathered on the younger man. Those hips bucked up again; he could feel the soak hole below brush against his chin, leaving a layer of slick there. A hum, a laugh as the hand in his hair scratched down his scalp. “Y-you’re desperate f-for this. Gotta n-need to have a p-powerful cock down y-you’re throat?” Again, Vulpes wanted to bite back with words, though his ears burned with knowledge that yes, there was something heady to his brain when someone could get him on his knees for them.
Ceaser was the most powerful man he had known.
But he had power through influence, numbers and knowledge with an impressive tactic to consume 86 tribes under his thumb and form the Legion as to what is was now. He was a strong back on his own, but with the back of their army, he was untouchable to any enemy in the wastes and even the famed NCR hadn’t managed to lay a single finger on him with the power of the Legionaries who stood around him.
The Courier was the most powerful man Vulpes knew now, and there was no army behind him.
Just himself, terroring the Wastes with that quirked smile and the blood bath that flooded his eyes.
A flood of overwhelming arousal came over his body and he had to pull his mouth away as he strangled out a groan, feeling his cock give an angry twitch as cum soot into his underwear. It smeared and clung to the fabric of his dick, making him shake with overstimulation and fall forward into the right thigh of the Courier, who was laughing gleefully over him, petting him like he was a mutt. “Oooh baby~ Is it that good? Are you so needy for it?” Each word trailed down the Deseret Fox’s spine like hot molten lava ozzing its way and searing his skin. His gasps were desperate as he tried to catch his breath, desperate for even the slightest bit of air, but the hand in his hair started tightening. “Don’t be rude now, baby, finish up what you started. I wanna be squeaky clean.” Vulpes’ jelly muscles could not fight against the other man’s push to get him back in his place, sloppily using his tongue to search around the cunt he was face in. That slick hole pulsed, needing before him, shone liquid dripping down like the sweetest sap from a tree. A slurp, wet and messy as the Legionary practically drank in the mess, mouth overwhelmed with just how much was coming from the Courier. A giggle slid down into his soup like brain, mingling in the high of the overstimulation of his cock rubbing against the wet feeling of his underwear. Hips pressed their way forward, trying to get Vulpes to take in more and he had to oblige, sticking his tongue back into the shorter man. The keening sound told him he was doing what was wanted and the older man did everything in his power to get himself as deep as possible, trying to clean the man completely out so no trace of Benny was there. The thighs around his head shuddered, twitching up as those legs wrapped around him, giving the Legionary no choice but to dig in even deeper. Helpless in takes of air came from the heart shaped man, sounds he let freely emit out into the suite. Vulpes was curious if it was echoing down the elevator shaft.
He wondered if Benny could hear it in the hell he was burning in.
A sudden rush of wet flooded his mouth, overfilling it and dripping down the sides as Vulpes did his best to swallow the onslaught, but his throat closed as his need for air demanded his attention. His eyes darted up to the Courier, watching his head thrown back in bliss as his body gave shudder after shudder from the strength of the organism washing over him. It was beautiful in a way, how the yellowing lights highlighted his face, grimed highlighting his sharp jaw, those cracked glasses sitting on the tip of his nose and those too white teeth biting down on a bloodied lip. The corners of his vision started to go dark, a heavy feeling lying on his eyelids, trying to force them shut but he didn’t want to miss the show above him. There was a last vivid twitch from the clit pressed to the side of his nose before the Courier's bonesless feel apart, his legs falling away and to the side, arms splaying out on the rest of the bar top, and his hips almost slamming back down.
Vulpes greedily inhaled a gulp of air, hands coming up to grip the bar top to keep him balanced on his legs, a rush of prickly needles shooting through his legs as he finally had the added weight dropped away. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his loud breathing mingling with the shorter man’s as both parties tried to get a hold of the much-needed air. The Dessert Fox caught his first, managing to feel like his head was not going to roll off his shoulder, and opened them to look down at the heart-shaped man before him.
Those dark eyes were already on him, that sharp grin like a knife to the Legioinary’s heart.
“Not bad, Legionary,” The Courier teased through his gasps. Vulpes could only think to give a growl in reponse but with the assault his throat had taken, it sounded more like a whine. The shorter man's pushed up on the bar top, setting his hands on either side of the other man’s face with a soft, gentle thumb tracing over his bottom lip. Like an animal, the Desert Fox watched with careful eyes as the other man brought the thumb to his own lips, a mix of shining slick and pearly cum smearing along it as he brought it to his mouth, tongue purposefully slow as he cleaned the digit. Vulpes’ cock gave another twitch, angry at it’s continued confinement and uncomfortable fabric slicking to it. His hips thurasted forword against his will, the hard-on brushing against the bare hips of the younger man. The Courier’s breath hitched and his smile widened. “Oh, you poor baby, all hard again, probably in need of a warm hole to fuck into.” Another groan came from the Desert Fox, his eyes squeezing tight as he was pulled into an embrace with the Courier, chanting his intense grip from the bar top, those bony hips hoping he was leaving his own set of bruises. God, he needed to fuck this man stupid; he needed to see his stupid grin fall away as pleasure wrapped every atom in his body while the Legionary imprinted him with the shape of his cock. There came a gentle kiss to his forehead. “But you just spent such a long time cleaning me out, honey, I’d hate for you to make such a mess all over again after all that hard work.” Vulpes didn’t care; he’d get back on his knees again if he was told, he’d spend hours making sure there wasn’t a drop of cum left in the shorter man’s pussy, squeaky fucking clean. He almost voiced those thoughts when he felt a warm flush brush against his cock, punching out air from his lungs as he bulged his eyes open to look between the two.
The Courier was using slow, methodical movements against the man’s bludgeoning, rubbing that damn cunt up and down his length. The desert Fox let out a very quiet ‘Fuck’ as the sight, moving his hips just a little to try and chase the feeling, but the heart-faced shaped man pulled away with a shake of his head. “Nu uh, I’m being mighty generous giving you anything. Take what you give, don’t try to demand more from me.” What could the Legionary do but nod in agreement, no matter how much he mourned the feeling of the most powerful figure in the Wasteland’s cunt being withheld from him. He held himself steady, body shaking from the effort, and there was no way the younger man didn’t notice, but thankfully, the Courier was silent as he brought his hips forward, still at that same slow pace but pushing into the man's cock with force. From the layers he wore, Vulpes knew he was missing out on the heat radiating from the man’s pussy, but it was still eye-rolling having any pressure at all, being allowed even this. He wanted to rip his bottle layer off, free his cock, and plunge into the other man without anything to contain his animal-like instincts to bury deep in and fill the man with his branding. But Vulpes was gracious for what he had and instead kept still, giving out little noises with each slide he was offered with eyes watching the two press together. The Courier’s eyes were just watching his face, still all the while giving that sharp-toothed grin that the Desert Fox knew would be burned into the back of his eyes. There was no where safe, he was from it for every time he closed his eyes, he saw those white teeth.
With a particularly sensual thrust, Vulpes felt his cock give another pulse, warning that his end was far more near than he had expected. “I-I…” He tried to speak but his throat strangled out the words before he could get them out, covered by puffs of air and tension-filled whines. As expected, though, the heart-shaped face man was quick to catch on, shushing the older man as he brought them close again, chest to chest, forcing the Legionary to look him in the eyes again. “Pick me up and sit back in the chair, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” With the permission to move, the Desert Fox used his strength to heft the younger man into his lap again, walking backwards till his heel hit the leg of the barstool. Like the floor was burning under his feet, Vulpes was quick to scramble into the chair, leaning against the back of the chair and hitching his hips forward so they were once again rubbing against each other. He couldn’t help but swallow the sound of laughing coming from the Courier, pressing their lips together to try and keep his attention off his ready-to-burst cock. Lips met, tongues came together, and both of their lower bodies began to move faster. It couldn’t have been comfortable for the shorter man, with his cunt rubbing against the scratchy fabric, but if anything, there seemed to be more noises falling from his lips as they reached closer and closer to the edge. Vulpes shifted his hands to the younger man’s back, forcing his hands up the coat and shirt to the bare skin there, feeling every divet and scar under his fingers as he desperately searched for something to dig his fingers into. His nails caught on what must have been a burn, pretty recent from the dry skin trying to heal over it. As soon as he grazed it, he felt the other man’s body tense for a second, his muscles contracting under his skin like he wanted him away.
But how quiet he was to fight his body and press the skin into the Legionary’s hands, like a demand for more contact.
Vulpes reached the stop of the raised skin, just a little below the start of the younger man’s ribs, something wet clinging to his fingers as he did so. Vulpes wasn’t sure if it was blood or maybe pus, but he cared little for it as he dug his nails into the skin and pulled down. The Courier’s reaction was instant, his lips suddenly pulling away as the younger man arched his back, his head tipping back as he let out a sound akin to a scream as his hips stuttered a bit. Thick skin flak, blood, and pus buried themselves under the Desert Fox’s finger nails; the feeling would have been revolting if the reaction from the heart-faced man hadn’t been so beautiful. His cunt was buried and pulsing around Vulpes’ bulge; had his cock been out, it would have been buried completely in that beautiful pussy. “Again.” The Courier’s voice was shaky, for once very quiet, and even his smile had dropped a little, but those eyes were still half lidded, a hazey deep sea of pure fucking need. The Legionary drew his hands up the burn, only using the pads of his fingers as he did to tease as much as he could, teasing the shorter man who’s nosies hitched in anticipation. He reached the raised edge, giving a little glide of his fingers as he watched the younger man’s eyes flutter.
He dug in deeper this time round, slow and harsh as he dragged his nails through the burn, watching with rapt attention as the Courier gave a high scream, his eyes going tight. A rush of liquid came in between them, thoroughly soaking the front of Vulpes’ pants, who couldn’t help but follow the display before him as his cock spurted cum in his underwear. The heart faced shaped man stayed suspended in his high for a long while, his body giving wracks of jolts, especially with the way Vulpes continued his scratching. His eyes wobbled a little but he refused to take his eyes of the younger man's, wanting to desperately to lean forword and take a bit of the man’s neck, to feel that strained flesh under his teeth and to leave a mark saying he, the Desert Fox, the leader of the Furmenatrii had laid claim to the Courier everyone in the Wastes had been talking about. He knew better, though, so held back himself as he collapsed into the back of the chair, holding the younger man’s hips so he wouldn’t fall back when he eventually came down.
It was more like a crash as he fell ontop of the Desert Fox, taking in deep, frantic breaths as he buried his face into the Legionary’s neck, hiccuping laughs in between every intake of air. “You’re an absolute doll, an absolute fucking doll.” Those arms wrapped Vulpes in and pulled him impossibly closer. “I wanna keep you for fucking ever, do the sickness shit I can imagine. You’d fulfill me like no one else ever fucking could.” A kiss, a sweet, gentle little thing, was placed on the Futmentarii’s neck before the Couier pulled away and their eyes locked into this intense stare. Once again, the Desert Fox found himself backed into another fucking corner and nothing but the Courier standing there in between safety and death. It takes him way too long to get his brain in order, to feel a plan of escape with his clothes a mess, a naked Courier in his lap and that burn of whiskey giving him loose limbs. Maybe this would be it for him; maybe he would be left to die by whatever morbid fashion the Courier wanted to immortalize him in.
Maybe Vulpes wouldn’t mind that.
“But I don’t think Ceaser would be very forgiving to me for stealing his top agent, huh?”
The younger man slipped from his lap easily, languishly unbuttoning the jacket and throwing it and the top underneath to a random corner. Vulpes eyes darted to his chest, where jagged, wayward scars covered his entire top, almost as if he had ripped the breast that had once been there off. He swallowed, taking in one last breath before standing, desperately trying to ignore the exposed flesh of the shorter man as he took in his own state. His pants were thoroughly soaked through, with dark stains that really made it look like he pissed himself more than came in his pants, arguably worse to the Legionary. His grimace must have been obvious as the flowery laugh that came from the heart-shaped face man was most definetly directed ay Vulpes. “Oh, darling, you are going to get some strange looks when we get downstairs. Don’t worry, I’ll say I was just a lil clumsy with the whiskey pour,” He sauntered past the Legioinary, giving him a wink as he headed towards the hallway that was off to the right. “Let me just get some new clothes on, it’d be disrespectful as a host to send you off without a personal escort.” Honestly, Vulpes figured the man was going to get a gun and was about to end the Desert Fox off, but truly, he didn’t have the brain power to even run for the elevators, only followed the unspoken command to stay put.
He could hear the Courier whistling to the radio, perfectly in tune and collected in a way that the Legionary wasn’t sure he was ever going to feel again, at least not while he was stuck in the heady room with blood and musk swirling in his nose. By the time the shorter man swagged back into the room, with his hair put up, a vault suit zipped just enough up it wouldn’t be indecent and the Pip-Boy secured to his wrist, Vulpes felt he could walk again without instantly falling over. No words were spoken between the two as they headed back into the elevator, once again standing on either side, but the Desert Fox, who was holding himself a lot less high than he had the first time, compared to the younger man, who looked as if nothing of what had just conspired had occurred. When the bell rang for their floor, Vulpes didn’t even try to hide his startle before loyally following behind the Courier as he guided him through the casino and back to the front door of The Tops.
And so the end of their interaction mirrored the beginning, the Courier standing on the high steps as Vulpes started his descent down. If he had not put his hands in his pockets, he would have completely forgotten the reason he had come in the first place. He turned back to face the Courier, pulling out the Mark and holding it up towards the younger man. “This is the Mark of Ceaser, it will grant you access to The Fort through Cotton Grove. The mighty Lord wishes to meet with you.” Those dark eyes studied the Mark for a moment before he reached down, plucking it from the Desert Fox. As their fingertips grazed, the Legionary felt a shock go through his body.
“I can’t wait to see what the Legion is all about. From what I’ve seen so far, I think we have quite a few philosophies in common.”
Though his mission had come to a success, something in the Desert Fox growled in his brain. He didn’t want anyone else in the Legion to lay eyes on this prize; he wanted to be the only one caught in those dark eyes but Vulpes would never get in the way of Ceaser and the plans he had for the Wastes. Instead, he said nothing, turned on his heels and slinked into the crowd, hoping he would lose the feeling of the younger man’s eyes off his back. It wasn’t till he slipped through the doors to the other side of the Strip did he finally feel free of them.
Later, after he had changed at a safe house and ignored the curious eyes of his fellow Legionary, he knelt before Ceaser, relaying his success of delivering the Mark and his opinion that they would see the Courier very soon. His Lord nodded as he explained that the Mark was passed off without issue and that the Couirer himself had expressed an interest in the Legion. Pleased, his Lord had him stand. “You have done well, Vulpes. I hope we will get this man in our Fort soon so we can get started on our plans. Until that Platinum Chip is used to kill Mr.House, we will be at a serious disadvantage.” The Desert Fox had to agree and almost said so when his Lord posed him a question. “What do you think of this courier?” Vulpes immediate thought was to say that he had come face to face with the most dangerous man in the Wasteland, that he had the cock of said man down his throat and been thoroughly fucked without ever shedding his clothes. He wanted to say how the man managed to completely isolate the Fumentarii over and over, with the chance to bring his end more than once, but chose to not to tip over that edge, that the Legionary had left the interaction with his life in tact but his brain in complete tatters. He wanted to say that if the man decided not to join the Legion, he would wipe out all of the Fort with ease, with a tune on the radio and a smile plastered to his face.
Instead, he just tightened his fists that were at his sides.
“He wields the fate of the Wasteland at his fingertips, and he knows this. If he joins the Legion, we will win.”