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It must have been quite the scene. A room lit only by candlelight and filled by the love between Nick Valentine and John Hancock. In a rare moment the two shared, apart from the prying eyes of others, finally they were able to focus entirely on each other. All else faded to the background, even the music playing softly from a record player across the room.
In Nick’s lap sat Hancock, one rough hand clutching the lapel of his trench coat, the other his neck. His tie hung loose and his shirt was pulled apart enough not to hinder anything the ghoul felt inclined to do. The synth’s head rested on the back on the chair lazily, gears whirring quietly any time he shifted.
Barely there lips pressed all across his neck, dipping occasionally to the frayed edges of his synthetic skin. Tongue lapped forcefully at his skin as fingers curled into his neck to brush against his wiring. Surely it was a sexy image. Certainly the man gracing his lap was.
Unfortunately it did approximately jack all for Valentine and Hancock hardly had the experience needed to begin experimenting with his wiring. “I can't feel anything, darling. I'm sorry.” His head lifted from the back of the chair, displacing Hancock from his task in the process. “I’ll gladly return the favor and more but I'm afraid this isn't doing either of us any good.”
Hancock leaned back with a huff. “How come you had to go and get all your sensors busted up before I could get to you?” It wasn't exactly clear if the question was strictly rhetorical or not.
A laugh rumbled through Nick’s chest as his gaze turned to meet Hancock’s eyes. “You're really that intent on doing something for me? You do know I don't mind always being on the giving end of things, don't you?” The intact fingers of his left hand reached up to caress the ghoul’s cheek.
“I want to make you feel good,” he stated, never once breaking eye contact. “I want you to know how it feels. You blow my mind, Nick. And I never get to blow your’s.” For once, the setup for a joke was left hanging in the air as Hancock tried to convey his well of emotions as best he could through a simple look.
It was hard for Valentine to maintain a poker face. It would be unrealistic to believe that he’d never once thought of what it would be like to really do it; to have those gnarled hands and rough lips feasting upon equipment he no longer even had. “You already blow my mind,” was all he could think to respond with. A bad bluff all in all.
Hancock brushed it off as if Nick hadn't replied at all. “Do you remember what it feels like? I mean, did the old Nick ever have sex? Did he ever have someone worship him the way I want to do to you? Can you still remember how it felt to touch yourself?”
It seemed an innocent enough question but something in his lover’s eyes hinted that he planned to use this information in some way. “I can remember bits and pieces. Same as with anything else.” He waited for Hancock to speak once more, to change the subject if luck were on his side. He did neither and Nick was forced to continue. “The real Valentine didn't much action but… He had his moments. Some more vivid than others.”
Now Hancock spoke again, rolling his hips almost imperceptibly against Nick’s as he did so. “Were you ever fucked?” The question came as more of a hiss than a real inquiry.
As Valentine spoke, the faintest bit of static could be detected in the edges of his voice. “What are you up to, John?”
“I want to tell you exactly what I'd do to you if I could. Every filthy detail.” His eyes were entirely dedicated and again came the very subtle roll of the hips. Valentine may not have had all his sensors but he still had some and somewhere in the back of his memory banks, something stirred in him.
It took several seconds for him to form a reply, static snow now becoming more obvious. Had his mouth not been artificially kept hydrated it would have been dry then. “Go ahead.”
“I’d undo one button on your shirt at a time, freeing each with only my teeth. And I'd fall to my knees before you-” and so he did, “-and worship every inch of your chest like you were my god. I want to feel you all over and I want you to feel my fingers, to wonder where they might go next on their pilgrimage. Every square inch would get attention but none more than your nipples. God I wish you had some so I could treat you so good. I'd twist them and kiss them and bite them just to hear you scream.
“And when I was done with that, I'd undo your pants, again only using my mouth. It's no fun if you can use your hands. I want you to see my face between your thighs with your cock pressing against my face separated only by the very thing I'm getting out of the way.” A hand on each knee gently pushed Valentine’s legs apart, cheek brushing gently against one of his thighs.
Even though Nick was incapable of truly feeling any of it, a shudder rocked through him and Hancock nuzzled closer to his crotch. Despite knowing he would find nothing if he were to do as he described, some part of Valentine disagreed. Some small part of his mind, the part that had once been human, craved with every fiber of his being that Hancock do just that.
“But I wouldn't give you what you wanted so easily. You can't really have expected me to, right?” A shiver passed once again through the synth and he shook his head. “Sorry Nicky. No way I'm rushing this. I want to feel you through your boxers. I’ll wrap my lips around you through that thin piece of cloth. Thin enough to feel my hot, wet breath but not close enough. I want you shaking and begging for it before I give you what you want.”
In a voice almost totally snow now, Nick only managed a, “John please...”
A purr played across Hancock’s lips and it was like Nick could feel it on something he no longer had. “Begging already? I didn't think it would be quite so easy. It's just fantasy, Valentine. Are you really so desperate that you would beg me to tell you what I would do to your dick if you had one?” The answer was quite evident in his silence. “Good. I love to see you so desperate for me. I could do anything to you now and you would probably thank me, wouldn't you?”
Torn between telling him to shut up, the fear that he would, and -- worst of all -- verbally agreeing with him, Nick once again remained silent.
Hancock carried on as if he hadn't been waiting for an answer anyway. “Even once I’d freed you I don't think I'd give you what you want. Not really. I want to pepper you in hundreds of tiny licks and kisses. I want to see your back arch into a touch that is gone before you've even processed it. I want to hear you whimper and groan and sigh in unrestrained pleasure any time my touch lingers more than a second.”
Nick’s eyes hung half lidded now, glowing far brighter than normal and mouth slightly agape. His hips rolled up into Hancock’s firm palm without his knowledge or consent it seemed. Whatever dormant needs lay hidden in layers of artificial code, he had awakened it and there was a serious need to make up for lost time.
“And it would be so sweet when I finally gave you what you wanted -- what you needed. Can you remember what it feels like to have a mouth close around you cock? I would choke on your cock like no one has before and it will sound so obscene. Every wet thrust would echo around a place like this. The slap of your balls against my spit-slick chin would be a melody sweeter than anything. Can you imagine how it would feel to have my throat close so tight around you while my tongue absolutely ravaged anything it could reach?”
Nick tried to say what must have been words but instead only static filled the air. Desperate, sexually-charged static. While driving Valentine to lose his voice in such a way was one of Hancock’s favorite past times, it did make communication a fair deal harder.
“Are you okay?” A nod. “Any pain?” A slower, much more hesitant nod. “Do you need me to get Sturges to fix it up?” A shake of the head. “Do you want me to stop?” A passionate no. “Good cause I want you to fuck me so hard right now.”
That was enough to set Valentine off it seemed because suddenly he felt himself falling backwards. In a split second, he landed on the floorboards with a loud thunk, winded by the impact. The chair crashed into the floor in a similar fashion a second later. And then Nick was on top of Hancock, pinning the ghoul’s hands above his head with both of his own.
Just like that, Hancock was finding it very hard to talk. Glowing yellow eyes fixed on his own black ones with something akin to hunger shining bright in them. It was an expression quite new to Valentine’s face and quite welcome if you asked Hancock.
As soon as the synth opened his lips static once again began to pour forth. In the snow, all Hancock could make out was the word, “Speak.” He wasn’t about to deny a direct order.
“I want you to fuck me into these floorboards. I want your fingers working me, stretching me out, scissoring me. Fuck, you can even use your metal fingers.” It was getting harder and harder for Hancock not to give in and roll his hips up to meet Valentine’s. “I wanna see your face when you finally replace your fingers with your cock,” he stated, voice just barely quivering.
He paused his monologuing, replacing the words with breathless pants as he attempted to gain control again. “I want to see you lose your mind, sunshine. You can’t imagine how good it’d feel. I’d feel so damn tight and hot and good. You could throw my legs over your shoulders and fuck me like there was no damn tomorrow. Don’t you wanna see my face when you hit my just right?”
The idea brought a fresh wave of static over Valentine and Hancock was far too proud. “Then you could flip me over onto all floors -- fuck like a pair of animals. Have you ever seen a cock bounce while getting fucked doggy style?” The picture painted in Valentine’s mind was absolutely gorgeous and he found himself craving it with every single fiber of his being.
Suddenly Nick leaned back from where he had still been hovered over Hancock. Before the ghoul could protest he felt a clawed hand tugging him over and eased the process by complying. As he settles onto his hand and knees the pointed metal fingers ran down his back, causing him to arch and a shiver to run through him. Nick’s free hand grabbed his hip and he honest to god moaned which lead to a similar sound from Valentine.
“Push my face into the floor. Use me, Nick. I’m all yours and I wanna make you feel so good.” The synth’s hips came flush with his and he had to focus on his breathing for a moment. Valentine took the opportunity to slip his metal hand around to undo Hancock’s pants now, tossing the flag aside as it came undone. It fluttered silently to the ground several steps away. When Hancock’s dick finally fell free he sighed in relief. It hung there hard and aching for a touch that he was in no rush to give it.
Tentatively, Nick tried thrusting forward and while there was nothing actually there, the ghoul’s dick bounced forward and back beautifully, just as promised. To top it off, it came with an absolutely filthy moan on Hancock’s part. “God, Nick, I want you to fuck me so bad! I want to feel stretched around you and-” He was cut off with a whine as Nick rolled his hips particularly forcefully.
Once more the garble of static formed into what might have been words. “... begging now?”
Hancock laughed between heavy breaths. “You got me there,” he replied, bouncing his ass back against Valentine and really, they were having sex in all but definition. “Just please don’t stop,” he begged.
Nick did one better, he wrapped a hand around Hancock’s dick causing a particularly delighted moan. Or perhaps it was more akin to a cry of relief. Either way, it fueled Nick on. Each time his hips rolled forward to grind against Hancock, so too would his hand.
It took almost no time for Hancock to begin to unravel. “Nick, oh my god, please, yes like that. Oh god, fuck me, I love you so much,” he cried, words tumbling out more like a waterfall than the babbling stream of well-planned prose they had been early. Valentine absolutely revelled in the change he’d been able to cause and wished with every fiber of his being that he could give the ghoul what he wanted.
He wanted so badly to fuck the skinny little ass he’d come to love so much into the ground. He wanted to leave his mark and make him a horny mess. Well, he had already done that part come to think of it.
Hancock’s movements became frantic quite suddenly, thrusting into Nick’s fist more sloppily and scrambling for purchase on the floor. “Nick, I’m gonna cum-” he paused to attempt to catch his breath and hold it off just a second longer. “I’m gonna cum all over your hand and myself ‘cause of you.”
Nick wanted to whisper all sorts of filthy words of encouragement in his ear. Don’t just talk about it. Good. Cum for me. Instead, all he could say was, “Do it.”
And Hancock did not disappoint, his arms gave out and so too would his legs if Nick hadn’t still been holding him up by the waist. His whole body quaked violently but Nick didn’t relent, continuing to pump his dick as it shot and thrusting against his ass. “Nick!” he screamed, already normally rather hoarse voice cracking. It was the sweetest sound that Valentine had ever heard.
Seconds later, the synth blacked out. He came to a minute later with Hancock sitting next to him, a total mess but cocky grin stretched from ear to ear. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Last time, Hancock had just about shit himself panicking and trying to figure out what happened. This time he knew exactly the cause. Him.
“Good for you as it was for me?” he asked with one of those low, hearty laughs that went right for Valentine’s heart. The ghoul extended a hand and the synth accepted, appreciating the help to sit up.
“Get that grin off your face. Next time, I might just find a strap on and do you for real.” It just made the grin bigger. Nick mirrored the expression and found himself hoping that day would come very, very soon.