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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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[M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1a/1 (tumblr!ficlet)
(Anonymous) 2011-12-19 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)Characters: M!Courier, Veronica, Cass
Kinks: none (gen)
Summary: Slow, socially awkward courier meets quick-witted, socially awkward scribe.
The courier— a young farmer’s son from out east that insisted on going by the name ‘TC,’ though he never told anyone what that stood for— was, above all else, a simple fellow. Bright enough to pass as moderately cognizant, and skilled in several areas, he was still something of a space cadet, though he at least made an effort to be polite about it. In fact, the only thing that proved to be his saving grace was the parallels people could draw between his personality and that of an adoring golden retriever.
But a people person he was not. He was fond of them, but more often than not, they made him nervous; he couldn’t read them.
He was better with the inanimate, or the non-sentient, as it were; a whiz-kid with fixing guns, making food and tanning any hide he could get his hands on— preferably from an animal that had already been killed, as he was loathe to do it himself— but his social skills were just shy of null and void. He’d often find himself wishing that people were as solidly based on the logic and reason as a bolt-action rifle, or at least had the simplicity of the local wildlife. A shotgun you could clean, modify, and fine-tune to a state of excellence, an animal you could feed, tend to, show affection for and they asked for little else… but inter-personal relations were trickier. They required a finesse he didn’t have.
There were people he traveled with, sure, people he liked— a gunslinger that thought he was weird, but inoffensive, saw him as her ticket to get out and explore; a Followers medic that thought he was an idiot savant, that he knew had taken pity on him when they’d first spoken— but he’d greatly preferred the company of the dog he’d been given in Freeside; part animal, part machine.
And that was fine. It was an arrangement he could abide by; being thought of as weird, or stupid, was common, and the dog did a splendid job keeping his mind off of his social shortcomings.
But then he met Veronica, someone he quickly took to— a first, in many ways. She was a little like him, more interested in technology and adventuring than she was in etiquette, but smarter, well-spoken, less awkward… while still being awkward enough that she could, and did, relate to him. It was a relief to have her around. She liked to tinker with things, she enjoyed taking lessons from him on how to fix up a standard firearm, she listened to him when he talked about the finer points of cooking a decent meal without poking (too much) fun at him, and she seemed to appreciate his innate ability to walk right up to local wildlife without getting into an all-out fight. When it did come down to a fight, she hit like a ton of bricks. Definitely something he could appreciate.
She was a friend, a good one— first he’d had in years. One he hoped would be more than that, eventually.
“Think she’d like some flowers, maybe?” he’d asked Cass off-handedly, on a night they’d watched Veronica depart to pick up some supplies. “Not sure where I’d get ‘em, just—” Catching sight of the caravaneer’s apparent disbelief, he paused. “What?”
“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, there, Ace,” she’d said, shaking her head slightly. “Seems like she appreciates those gestures but, somethin’ tells me you’re not exactly her type.”
At the time, he’d shrugged it off, figured she was just giving him shit again; wouldn’t have been the first time. But then, on a night where he presented the scribe with a carefully arranged assortment of leaves and other items to mimic some of the plastic flower arrangements he’d seen on the Strip, he learned otherwise. The caraveneer was doing the one thing he could never quite get the hang of: she was being subtle, leaving him to read into her tone.
[M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1b/1
(Anonymous) 2011-12-19 12:19 pm (UTC)(link)But it did dawn on him, eventually, that she hadn’t been trying to be derogatory; that she was giving him fair warning.
“You really put a lot of effort into this,” Veronica said gently, voice apologetic, upon being presented with the token of his appreciation, “didn’t you?”
“Yes’m,” he said, grinning ear to ear as she toyed with some of the nuka cola labels he’d used for color. “Nearly didn’t finish on account’a Rex makin’ off with some’a them labels,” he added, pointing to the one she had between her fingers, “once I got done peelin’ ‘em off the bottles, but…” Beat. “You, uh— you like it?”
“I love it, actually,” she said, though her smile was— sad, almost. “Sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in years. Just— not something I deserve, really.”
“Oh, now, I wouldn’t say that,” he said, brow furrowing slightly. “Seems to me you deserve more’n just a bunch’a scraps stuck together like this. I keep tellin’ you, you gotta—”
Raising her hand to interrupt him, Veronica said, “It’s not—” then paused, voice softening once she was sure he was listening to her. “It’s not that. It’s just— I can’t accept it.”
The tone of voice, the look in her eyes— that much, he read immediately. She knew what he was offering and, well. He’d been turned down enough to know what that look meant.
His smile turned somber, eyes shifting awkwardly to the ground between them. “It’s me, innit?” he said, without rancor; just his usual bluntness. “Miss Cassidy said somethin’ about me not bein’ your type. Guess I should’a listened to her.”
“Well… she’s right, sort of,” she said, affording him that much at least. “Just not for the reasons you’re thinking.”
He raised his head again, curious; it wasn’t a tone he was used to when he was being let down. Most girls just laughed, or got impatient with him. Thought his questions were leading, or meant to guilt them into letting down their guard.
“Remember,” Veronica continued, “how I said there was someone I really cared about? Someone I loved that left the Brotherhood without me?”
“Yes’m.”
“Did I mention that her name was Christine?”
Pausing, he was left uncertain of what to say to that. He knew what he assumed, but—
“You’n—?” Another pause. “You— mind spellin’ that out for me so I don’t go puttin’ my foot in my mouth?”
Veronica just smiled— that warm, patient smile he had always taken a shine to. “Chances are, you’re on the right track,” she said gently. “I like women, TC. I’ve never been attracted to men for as long as I can remember. Tried to be, once, since— that sort’ve thing was expected of me, but… it didn’t really work out. Never felt right.”
He thought about that for a moment— felt some of the disappointment he felt, some of the embarrassment, start to lift, little by little. She’d mentioned something about that before, hadn’t she? He just hadn’t bothered to ask anything else. But— now that the subject was broached, he alighted upon a question.
“So… you’re sayin’ that— if I was a lady, y’might…?”
“I might,” Veronica said. “Probably would, actually. I mean… don’t take that as encouragement to keep trying. I like you, but you’d be better off just leaving it be.” The answer warmed him— enough to bring a broad smile to his face; pleased, sheepish, and apparently contrary to what she was expecting. “And now you’re smiling,” she said, eyebrow raised. “This… isn’t a prelude to an emotional breakdown, is it? ‘Cause… I’m not really that good with—”
Now it was his turn to cut her off, using the gesture she had before. “No, ma’am,” he said, his use of the moniker earning him a somewhat pointed look— he knew she hated it, but slipped up occasionally regardless— but he carried on, getting the thought out before it eluded him. “Just good to know that, if circumstances were a little different, y’might’a said yes, instead.”
“Depends on what I was saying ‘yes’ to, I suppose,” Veronica replied, eyebrow raised. “But yeah. I like you. I just don’t—”
“Like me,” he said, nodding. “I know. Tell you the truth— it’s enough just knowin’ you like me at all.”
[M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1c/1
(Anonymous) 2011-12-19 12:21 pm (UTC)(link)Shaking his head, he said, “Keep ‘em. Last thing I wanna do is make you think you don’t deserve ‘em.”
And at least, with him, she could be assured that he meant it.
One of the bonuses of being Simple.
Re: [M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1c/1
(Anonymous) 2011-12-19 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)Re: [M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1c/1
(Anonymous) 2011-12-20 09:32 am (UTC)(link)Re: [M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1c/1
(Anonymous) 2011-12-21 01:54 am (UTC)(link)Re: [M!Courier+Veronica] - Simple - 1c/1
(Anonymous) 2014-08-06 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)