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The Taming of the Shrew 3/3
Date: 2012-06-07 08:09 am (UTC)When he finally dared to look up he found the two men look down at him with a mildly amused expression while passing a flask of whiskey back and forth. Butch had a few moments to notice the difference between them: Flak was broad shouldered and heavily muscled, while Shrapnel was on the wiry side, his body covered in all kinds of scars that looked as if none of those wounds had ever received proper medical attention.
To his surprise, Flak suddenly extended a hand to him. Butch hesitated for a second, then took the hand and let Flak help him up. After laboriously pulling up his pants, he wiped the back of his hand across lips and nose and accepted the bottle Shrapnel wordlessly offered to him, rinsing his mouth of blood and spunk with a healthy swig of the burning, amber liquid.
“Just a couple of old queens, huh?”, Flak said after a moment, a audible trace of humour in his voice.
Butch shrugged and took another sip of whiskey before handing the bottle back.
“So what do we owe after that little bit of sports?” Shrapnel looked disgustingly pleased with himself, too.
“Four hundred caps and both your balls on a string to hang up on my wall”, Butch gave back testily.
Both men laughed coarsely and Shrapnel went over to a locker where he picked up a large bag.
“Here. It’s six hundred. About the balls, though...”
“You can always try to take’em”, Flak chuckled and lit himself a smoke.
Butch swallowed a remark that probably would’ve earned him a broken nose and grabbed the bag from Shrapnel. “Thanks.”
Then he picked up his jacket and slipped it on, but as he was about to leave, he heard Flak call out behind him. He was tempted to just go, but that would’ve been childish, so he slowly turned around again. “Yeah?”
“You ever want a gun, we could work out a deal for you. Just keep your mouth shut about it.”
“Got ya. Thanks.”
He left, his last sight of them, to his surprise, was them closing their arms around each other. He closed the door in haste, not wanting to see any more. Surely men like them didn’t kiss?
It wasn’t his business anyway, but as he looked at the bag in his hand he realised that he finally had made it: with that many caps and the offer of a discount, he would finally be able to buy himself the gear he needed. He could get out of this shithole again.
Butch made his way back to his cabin whistling under his breath, for the first time since he had left the Vault things looked good for him again. Just around the corner from his cabin he ran into a guy he knew faintly, and when he noticed the state of Butch’s wardrobe, he snickered. “The fuck happened to you, Butch?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Of course not.” Another coarse chuckle. “Fucking’s your business, not mine.”
Butch acted without thinking. His fist landed right in the bastard’s face and sent him sprawling on his ass. And god almighty, that felt good. “Not anymore, asshole.”
He slammed the door of his cabin shut behind him, grinning to himself while sucking at his bruised knuckles.
Life was good.
Re: The Taming of the Shrew 3/3
Date: 2012-06-07 01:39 pm (UTC)Re: The Taming of the Shrew 3/3
Date: 2012-06-27 05:48 am (UTC)this was hot.
But oh man. Butch's backstory - that broke my heart. It was brilliant and believable. I love good smut. But I love a good story a bit more. Well-done.
Re: The Taming of the Shrew 3/3
Date: 2012-07-12 09:48 pm (UTC)