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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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It Catches Up With You (1b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-06 03:44 am (UTC)(link)When he woke up in the same spot the next morning, the first thing he thought- well, after swearing at the nasty crick in his neck- was how fucking glad Tom should be to see him, because who wouldn't? He was the fucking King, baby. A real sight for sore eyes, and damn if they weren't.
But he didn't wake up. Quaked vomitously in his sleep, maybe, but just how long had he been sitting here? Butch mulled briefly on when the doctor had been in last, to check out those wicked scars-in-the-making. There was an empty syringe of Med-X that hadn't been there when he walked in, though, so he must've slept through it. Good, probably.
He shook the last drippings of sleep from his head. He needed to walk, to be out of there. The stale air choked him. His fingers itched for a cigarette. The last of his own rested snugly in Flak's back pocket, a sound punishment for losing so badly at billiards last night. Wasn't like he could help it; he was a little preoccupied.
Whatever, it didn't matter. He stalked out to a rusty outcropping which overlooked the flight deck. The air tasted sharp on his tongue, like licking a battery. Tasted green. Felt familiar. A haggard breath he didn't know he'd been holding back forced its way out of his lungs. Sure. He could handle this. Not like Tommy was bound to half kill himself every day. Right.
The railing dug into the meat of his palms. Didn't really... add up. This kid, some goody-two-shoes know-nothing shit from a hole in the ground, was suddenly Public Enemy Number One to half the goddamn capital. He couldn't keep running from it.
It was kind of funny when Butch thought about it. Here he was, mopin' like a widow on Valentine's Day, and he... he was just a barber. No fooling anymore. A barber who could swing around a gun like it ain't no thing, sure. But when it came down to it, he was a big fat zero. Some nothing. Just some guy tagging along like a little lost puppy.
A black tang snapped across his tongue. He touched the tip with his finger. Red. Butch swallowed, hard.
By the time he made his way back to the clinic, Tommy still wasn't awake. Still looking too corpsely for comfort. Butch slammed his boot into the door frame with a venom that surprised even himself.
Re: It Catches Up With You (1b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-07 12:51 am (UTC)(link)looking forward to more :D
Re: It Catches Up With You (1b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-07 03:56 am (UTC)(link)It Catches Up With You (2a/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-08 07:10 am (UTC)(link)He settled for a low, "Maybe if you were in here makin' sure his ass wasn't grass," under his breath.
A hand clasped his shoulder. "Look, I've told you before, he's going to be fine-"
"Do not-" he shoved the hand away- "fuckin' touch me. Do you know who you're fuckin' with?"
"I don't have time for your bullshit, Butch," Preston snapped, and his age seeped back into his eyes.
Butch snarled. But he couldn't think of anything to say. A fleshy bog weighed down his mind. Instead of going to his bunk to sleep, as he'd planned, he stalked down to the bar. Not to drink, no; he didn't have the caps, not with Tommy being out of commission. He sat in a musky, cold corner until he drowned in the haze of stale sweat and cigarette smoke.
When Belle Bonny shouted at him to get his ass home, he couldn't bring himself to be pissed off. Didn't even want to call her a raggedy old hag, though it would give him something to laugh at.
-----
On the second day, Butch crawled into the clinic when he was sure nobody was looking. His jacket caught on the door, which slammed shut behind him and startled a jump out of him. Again with the fucking flinching.
The kid stirred, eyes glassed. Something rough and mumbled spilled out of his mouth, something Butch couldn't understand.
"Wanna try that again?" Butch stomped around a bit, but couldn't keep the worry lines in his brow from smoothing out some.
"Said, what're you doing here," Tom forced out as his eyes struggled to focus.
"Oh, fuck off. Only been waiting on you for how long, that's how you wanna be?"
"No, I... where am I?"
"Middle of Rivet City, cotton-for-brains."
Tom grunted, tried to sit up.
"Hold the phone, that ain't smart," Butch said, and gestured to the leg bound in a splint. "Don't you remember? You busted your shit up somethin' fierce. You're lucky you ain't dead, else I'd have found you and killed you myself."
It Catches Up With You (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-08 07:14 am (UTC)(link)Butch poked his cheek, then his ribs, then his leg. The winces went ignored. "They fucked you up something good. How many did you get?"
"A couple," he said, then his eyes flickered somewhere to the left, not looking at Butch. "Anyway, you look how I'm feeling. What've you been doing?"
A chill crawled down his spine. In his head examination lights pounded on him, bared him down to skin. "Yeah, well, I've been busy," he said, "like I've got time to waste waitin' on you. A Tunnel Snake's gotta roll, baby." And with that, he turned to leave-
"Used to think I couldn't trust you farther than I could throw you," Tommy coughed. "Don't prove me right."
"The fuck would you know, alright?"
He sat up with a hiss. "Your hair isn't even done."
Oh, shit. Butch raised a hand to his limp hair. "It doesn't mean anything," he growled, "I've been busy. Quit acting like you're all damn clever, I wasn't the one who went running into shit all on my lonesome. Has anyone ever told you you're really fuckin' stupid before? All your science-y shit won't save you from being turned into beef jerky by those fucklords!" A lump settled deep in his throat, which he tried to force past by shouting. Louder. Still. "And now you're just-"
"Goddamnit, Butch, shut your trap!" He jerked at the sudden sound of Doc Preston's voice, just behind him. "I will personally put a bullet through your head if you don't stop the fucking squawking!"
Butch shot him a look, but resorted to mumbling awful nothings under his breath.
The doctor pointed him to the door. "Now clear out, you're giving me a damn migraine and I need to examine Tom in peace."
Shoulders hunched proper, he huffed out as asked, but not before kicking over a tray of empty syringes. It didn't really make him feel better, but the indignant screeching behind him helped.
He couldn't do it anymore, he gave in to temptation. Nine in the morning, and he found himself pawning off one of his jackets to Belle Bonny in exchange for one whiskey, then two, then three. Didn't really care right now that Tommy had found that jacket just for him, that he really should have saved his caps for something useful, like food. Alcohol was like liquid bread anyway, right? He'd be fine.
-----
I'm getting there I swear!! Hahah... Next update should be coming real soon.
Re: It Catches Up With You (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-12 09:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: It Catches Up With You (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-14 01:04 am (UTC)(link)Eagerly awaiting your next update.