falloutkinkmeme_backup | Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

It wasn't a month after his big battle at Hoover Dam that Sandy had returned to Zion. Joshua had honestly thought he'd been imagining his still-familiar form making its way through the thin vein of the canyon, like some specter borne of his lingering affection.

"Alessandro," he has said, surprised. All his little words abandoned him in the unexpected swell of his chest that would be better suited for an old friend. All he was left with was, "You came back."

"I told you I would," Sandy had said. Like it was the simplest thing in the world. He sat next to Joshua by the campfire, like he had every evening during the months of his first visit to Zion. Like he had never been gone. Joshua felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire, and realized maybe that was indeed the case.

Joshua had always been drawn to the oak-hearted, had a love for those whose fire burned in their blood similar to his own. He could see such a fire in Alessandro upon their meeting, underneath his calm and steady exterior. He spoke little and said much, never saw the need to flash but always commanded attention. But where Joshua's fire had always been burning, consuming, Sandy's was warming. The single flame that could illuminate as much for twenty people as it could for one.

He had spent the remainder of his first day back simply around the camp, greeting everyone who remembered him, making his first clumsy steps into learning the language they spoke through use, his attempts clumsy but ardent, patiently taking in the spare lesson Joshua would offer with a nod and a fresh attempt. He made quiet offers to help with the evening's cooking, moving where he was needed, less of a guest with each passing minute.

"So," he said, seated once again by Joshua, when the company had been thinned by the call of sleep and night had truly settled in, "do you think there could be a place for me here?"

Joshua nodded, scripture forgotten in his lap as he watched the dark amber light of the fire play off the curves of Sandy's proud jaw, shadowing the dip of his cheekbone, illuminating boundless depths in the tawny eye it reached and the one it left shadowed. "Always."

Sandy nodded, a twitch in his right hand where it rested on his knee, the ghost of an aborted movement. Those were never lost on Joshua, and they warmed him even as they brought a twist to his chest.

"Do you need to make a trip back to the Mojave?" Joshua asked as Sandy looked back into the campfire. "Get some of your things?"

Sandy shook his head slightly. "I've got all I need right here."

SDKFJHA:LSKJFDKJAHHHHHHHHHHHh

MORE PLEASE

AI GLORIOUS
I WANT MORE ALL OVER MY FACE
BUT NOT IN MY HAIR BECAUSE THAT'LL TAKE AGES TO WASH OUT

AHH, MY HEART! <3
This is going to be so fantastic

Aww, can't wait to read some more.

Truth is, even though in my headCanon I assume a physical romance between the two, I loved this prompt.

Moaaarrrrrr <3

The White Legs mongrels that survived and stayed in Zion have begun to pack, roving in tight bands that the Dead Horses were trying to make peace with, generally avoiding but keeping an eye on. But their instincts have gone scrambled from abuse, taking on their old masters' tendency for scavenging and brutality. They abandon their weak. And the pregnant count as weak.

Joshua doesn't know where Sandy lived before that he had veterinary training, but he is steady and authoritative when one of the tribeswomen brings in a heavily wounded bitch that is with pup and dangerously far along. Sandy has learned the tribe's language well but does not know how to ask for a clear space where he can work. He hasn't needed to ask for space yet.

Joshua stays close so he can translate as Sandy says what he needs, no matter that there are a handful of multilingual tribesmen who could offer their aid. There's just something about the way Sandy runs his hands gently along the wounded dog's face, down her snout over her ear and to the ruff of her neck, his low mahogany voice speaking quietly, steadily, constantly, as the dog's flanks suck in and out hard and fast but she does not fight him, the wild flame in her eye pulling back as she lets him gingerly inspect her. She gives a weak growl as he feels at her swollen quaking belly, and only she and Joshua can hear the slightest rise in Sandy's voice as he continues speaking.

"You know she doesn't understand you," Joshua points out, needlessly, an uncharacteristically awkward move borne out of this strange feeling of incompetence.

Sandy shakes his head slightly, eyes still on the dog under his hands. "She may not know the words," he says, "but she understands me just fine."

Sandy loses the bitch close after the birth, expending the last of her vital energy dragging her tongue across one of her pups. Two of the newborns don't make it -- it is difficult to keep them warm, stimulated, reminding them to breathe. The three that remain are not in good condition, but they survive. Joshua finds Sandy outside the cave, the barest light of he impending sunrise making a halo around his form, and he's scrubbing a hand over his tired face. Joshua isn't sure if his presence is yet known as he approaches on quiet footsteps, Sandy taking in a heavy sigh and muttering, Shit.

There is a crunch of pebbles under Joshua's feet loud enough to make Sandy turn to face him. It was just a dog, but Joshua knows that face. Very, very well.

"You did more for her than anyone else did in her entire life," Joshua says.

Sandy fully turns to face him, arms hanging helplessly at his sides. "Wasn't enough," he says simply, greif weighing the low end of his words.

"None of the pups would have survived if not for you," Joshua reminds him carefully. Every step is unsure, but he wants to take them.

Sandy fixes those big tawny eyes on him, the premature aging around them in lines and shadows betraying how much younger than most people guess he is. "May not even be enough," he says. "We have to figure out a way to feed 'em, to keep 'em healthy without their mother's milk. And there's just no keepin' 'em warm, with the drafts, an' what happens if that runt's lungs really are underdeveloped an'--"

Joshua knows the decision was Sandy's but his body is acting on instinct, and he reaches out to trail scarred, deadened fingertips over the curve of Sandy's jaw. Silencing him. Even before he lost his body Joshua had not mastered the art of the comforting touch. All of this is too foreign. But he is soothed to see some of the steady calm return to Sandy's expression.

Another aborted movement in Sandy's right hand, echoing through his arm, and Joshua can't let this one go. "This isn't going to be enough for you," he murmurs.

Sandy follows the change of topic. "This again?" he says with a soft fond smile.

"I'm done trying to convince you," Joshua says, letting his fingertips linger on Sandy's jaw, on skin he can't feel. "But just know that when the day comes, I won't resent you."

Sandy reaches up and catches his hand in a touch so light it can barely be called a grasp, brings two of the red fingertips to his lips so he can press a featherlight kiss against them. "An' I know I can't convince you," he says quietly, "so lemme prove it to you."

This is all foreign territory. But it is territory Joshua is pleased to explore.

Sandy releases his hand, takes in a heavy breath. "I'd like to bury her," he says. "She deserves that honor."

Joshua nods. "First thing after sunrise," he promises.

Sandy looks at him from under his eyebrows. "You'll be with me?"

"Of course."

wonderful!!!

Oh god, my heart, man. This is utterly wonderful, and everything thatr I was hoping for. God, Joshua.

Oh my godddd. Author anon, I love you. More pleeeease.

The runt survives, and when the rest of the pups grow and move on she stays with Sandy. He names her Ruth, trains her to trust him like a brother. She sleeps curled next to them at night -- more than once Joshua has been awakened by huffs of heady wet breath against his face.

Sandy's grown fluent in the Dead Horses language, has formed relationships within the tribe. Joshua occasionally catches one of them appreciating his fine form with a quick sweep of the eyes, and in the back of his mind he's always ready for the conversation that never comes, for Sandy's gentle expression as he tries to explain what Joshua already knows, that he needs more than this.

Because for as much as Joshua cherishes his devotion, he has trouble fathoming it, still. He has dreams. Despite his attempts to ascend beyond the primal urges it entails, he is still a man, and sometimes when he rests he gains his old skin back, lays with his love without pain as they treasure each other's flesh.

Something had changed after the night Sandy undressed for him. The two of them alone in a dimly lit cave, utterly silent save for the crackle of torchfire and the muted schiff of clothing, Sandy's body softly illuminated in shades of red and amber as he tentatively exposed every swell and shadow of his body, his eyes locked on Joshua's as he shed every piece of clothing. Joshua's gaze alternated between holding his and wandering his form, a longing pull in his chest as his eyes savored the firm curve of Sandy's stomach, the hard dip in his hipbones, the solid build of his thighs.

"There is a world of lovers waiting for you out there," he breathes now as they lay beside one another, Ruth's slumbering head resting on Sandy's belly.

Sandy's fingers slow where they are idly scratching at Ruth's ears, and he turns his head to look at Joshua. "Every time I think we're past this--"

"I'm not wallowing in it," Joshua cuts in. "But it's... difficult to drive from my mind."

"An' that's what you think I want?" Sandy asks softly, without accusation or offense. "A 'world of lovers' over something real with you?"

Joshua doesn't answer, and Sandy shifts beside him, turning onto his side and propping his head up with one hand. He simply looks at Joshua until the man will meet his eyes. "Let me tell you about my first time in Zion," he says. deep voice steady and quiet in that way that burrows warm under Joshua's skin. "When we got here, I honestly had trouble believin' it was real. I've only ever known the wastes, an' I seen plenty of it but never seen any place that stirred me like this. I always thought I couldn't never settle, y'know, couldn't just stay in one place. An' then I was in this place I didn't wanna ever leave. Place that moved me.

"That's when I knew that I found home. Somethin' I never really thought would happen, but I knew, I could travel to any beautiful place in the whole damn world and no matter what, it'd be in the back of my mind that Zion was here, an' I wasn't. That I had found my home an' left it."

Joshua remains utterly silent through this, and Sandy swallows around his honesty. "And in a lot of ways, that's how I feel about you."

Joshua has a million things to say and none of his words feel right, each of his statements colliding in his head before they leave his lips. But he says all he can when he reaches up to lightly touch Sandy's face.

Sandy is still just watching him, his expression open. "You once told me love was the greatest lesson God could teach us."

"I know," Joshua sighs. "But it is a lesson I have difficulty imagining Him thinking I deserve to be taught."

Sandy's silent for a moment, before he takes Joshua's hand in his practiced gentle hold and presses a kiss against his fingertips. "I can't claim to know what God thinks. Still kinda trynna wrap my head around Him. Still don't make much sense to me. But I know how I feel about you, and I know that I'm here with you. That makes sense to me."

His lips brush Joshua's fingers once more and he closes his eyes. "Now, you got a world of faith in Him," Sandy says. "I don't think he'll mind if you spare a little for me."

He releases the hand and settles back, laying down once more and rolling onto his side. Joshua shifts, carefully wrapping one arm around Sandy's waist and resting his forehead against his shoulder.

Ruth noses at his hand and squirms her way under it, and Joshua feels Sandy's chest shake with silent laughter, and something inside of him relents. Accepts that he's done plenty of fighting. He doesn't need to fight this any longer.

He's living proof that men can change. They both are, in their own ways.

He falls asleep with his arm around Sandy's solid waist, his fingertips in Ruth's fur.

-fin.

I'm so glad you finished this. It's such a sweet and tender story, and the redemptive tones make it all the more satisfying to me. What a wonderful story.

Awwwwww~

Oh this is just so sweet, and lovely, and... such a tasty little slice of romance.

Thank you for writing and sharing with us <3

I'coming a year late to this party, but just in case A!A ever stops by again, wanted you to know that this made me all squishy and "awwwwww" and totally made my shitty day. Much love!

I just read this and I HAD to say something, because this touched my heart in a deep way. It's exactly how I feel, and what I would want for my Courier and Joshua. It is so sweet and so perfect...

Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [1/3]

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Re: M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [1/3]

M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [2a/3]

M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [2b/3]

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OP

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M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [3a/3]

M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [3b/3]

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Re: M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [3b/3]

Re: M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [3b/3]

Re: M!Courier/Joshua Graham - What the Fire Gave Us [3b/3]