Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The King wished he could somehow tell his younger self that one morning, while it was chilly and gray outside, he'd wake up next to a warm mass of roadhewn muscles and feel more fulfilled than anytime he'd woken up next to soft curves.  His name'll be John Viviendo , he'd tell his younger self,  and he'll be changing your life before you even get to meet him .

He wasn't foolish -- he knew it was going to be an adjustment. It might take some time for some of the boys to get used to. There was a chance the girls would throw a few fits. Pacer would  definitely  throw a fit. But consequences didn't exist just yet, not when Viv was still asleep next to him, in his arms. He could tell himself he made up his mind last night, and that was convenient. But deep down he'd known since Viv made his tipsy confession days ago. It was like someone had finally let the air into the room. ( He'll be tough and honest, and always know what to say. )

Viv's breathing changed from a steady intake to the sharp, deep breath of the newly conscious, and he lifted a hand to rest on the arm that encircled his torso. The King tightened his hold a bit, and Viv rolled his head on the pillow, looking at him with those big, coffee-brown eyes. "You're still here," he said quietly, like it was genuinely confusing.

The King tugged him over, the warmth of their bodies flush together going deep into his bones. ( His skin will be covered in scars, and you'll want to kiss every inch of it. ) He let himself get lost in the sensation of skin on skin, running his hands down the length of Viv's back before leaning in to kiss him.

"Your breath is terrible," Viv chuckled softly against his lips.

"You complainin'?" the King murmured, forehead resting against Viv's.

"Nope." Viv tilted his head as the King leaned in to kiss him again, brushing their mouths together softly. ( The scrape of stubble against your cheek will feel like heaven. ) He shifted and nudged Viv onto his back, pressing on top of him, loving the warm and solid weight under his body, the way Viv's hand buried itself in his hair and pulled him closer. He ducked his head down to nose at Viv's square jaw and trail half-formed kisses from his ear to his collarbone, relishing every hitch in Viv's breath, the way his fingers curled into a fist against the King's shoulder. The way Viv groaned and arched slightly, back into the pillows, baring his throat for the King's lips and tongue and teeth. The way he hissed quietly when the King found a bruise he had sucked into his skin last night and nipped at it, Viv's hands coming around his shoulders and sliding down his back. ( Big, calloused hands on your body will make your heart stop. ) He could do this for hours, if Viv let him. Just savoring each other's bodies. Just each other.

It didn't make sense. But according to the gospel of every song the King knew, love never did.

Things were getting heated when Viv tensed, pulled back. "We're both fucking messes from last night," he said, and the King could hear it in his voice, the way he was trying to sound casual and failing. "I know  I  need to get cleaned up." He pulled out of the King's arms, stepped out of the bed of quiet feet and starting looking for his clothes.

The King propped himself up on one elbow. "So that's it then," he said. "Just... 'Thanks for last night,' and you're gone?"

Viv sagged, taking a breath and tugging on his trousers. "Look, I know you're a gentleman but I'm not gonna hold you to what you said last night, so don't stress. You're still free."

The King got out of the warm bed, finding his own trousers and stepping into them, saying, "Thought I made it pretty clear last night that that's not what I want."

Viv gave a hollow little laugh that gave the King a painful twist in his chest, now that he could hear the bitterness in it, and he remembered that in every story he could remember listening to, Viv had been alone. 

"I mean it," he said firmly. "I meant it last night and I mean it now."

Viv stood with his t-shirt in his hands, crossed his arms and looked at the King hard. "Okay, tell me this: aside from me, how many men you been with?"

"None."

"Exactly."

"So you're upset that I'm  not  freaking out about this?" The King said, walking towards him. "You're upset that I'm crazy about you, just  you , and the fact that you're a guy doesn't matter?"

"It  does  matter!" Viv said, raising his voice and immediately scrubbing his face with a hand. He tugged on his shirt, his map of scars shifting over lean muscles, and took a deep breath. "It matters," he said quietly. "You don't get that, but it does."

"Not to me," the King said, closing the distance between them. "You make me feel better than anyone else I ever met in my life."

Viv shifted, hugging himself and looking at the ground. "Jesus, why are you so  honest ," he muttered under his breath, "people aren't  like  that."

"You are. You're honest, and brave, and tough." He was standing inches away from Viv now, gently tugged on his arms so they loosened from around his chest. "I spend my time worryin' about you when you go out into the Wastes. Look forward to every time I'm gonna see you." He hooked a finger under Viv's chin, made him look up and meet his eyes. "And last night made a lot of things clear for me. I don't care what that means. I don't care what other people say. I know how I feel about you. So you tell me why I'm not allowed to."

Viv dropped his eyes again. He looked tired, defeated. But not in the way the King was hoping for. He looked like he'd been defeated for a long time.

"Viv. Tell me. Tell me why you're so determined for me to change my mind."

"It's not  that , it's just--" Viv sighed, looking wrung out. The King instinctively put ran his hands up Viv's arms, and the courier leaned into him, resting his forehead against the King's shoulder and taking a deep breath. "I need you to be sure. I mean  really  sure."

The King cautiously wrapped his arms around Viv's shoulders, inadvertently nosing at his hair. "And why's that?" Viv was silent, and the King pleaded softly, "Just tell me. Honestly."

"Because to have you and  lose  you..." Viv forced out, and then he pulled back, out of the King's arms, looking deliberately at the floor again. "I don't know if I could handle that."

He took a step forward, but Viv clasped his hands in front of his chest. When he looked up, his eyes were earnest, so much so that it made the King's stomach twist. "You said you had that thing at Gonorrhea tonight--"

"Gomorrah."

"Sorry, force of habit. Just... go there tonight. Without me."

"Viv, I'm not gonna--"

"Just  go . That's all I'm asking. Look at all the half-naked girls who'll do anything for you, at all the gambling girls in tight dresses who realize you're the biggest fucking catch the Mojave has to offer. I don't need to know about anything else you do, just do it. And really think about if you're ready to give all that up to be with some scarred-up road punk with a dick."

The King just blinked. "You're serious right now."

"Please."

"Viv, I don't need to do this to know what I want."

" Please , okay?" Viv raked both hands through his hair -- which, even while his heart was aching the King noted, looked chaotic and  adorable  post-coital -- and exhaled sharply. "Look, I-- I just need to go. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm weird and crazy, but just... don't let me be your bad decision."

He walked out the door without looking up.

The King sat heavily on the bed.  He'll make you feel crazy , he'd tell his younger self,  and you'll hope that never stops .