Chapter Text
It’s like the Herald is ripping on his Doof Rig, going forth all uber chrome in his ears when she lays her soft palm on his V8 cuttings. Fingers softer than his soft bits. Curl and rest, curl and rest until it feels like the sun is burning his flesh...but it’s a giddy pain and a shiny pain.
So shiny...so chrome.
He could go to Valhalla in this type of pain if she let him - with her moist breath on his shoulder and the burnt copper wire of her hair plastered down his arm, mixing with the sheen of white, gritty-sweat he’s started expelling even though he’s refused sleep since the new moon. Each puff of her breath makes his skin heat, sweat and Nux grows thirsty for Aqua Cola like he hasn’t since he was a War Pup. Wet hydration, a balm for his dead, dry skin that restores him like high octane blood can’t, won’t and shouldn’t. His addiction is only forgotten about when Capable sighs, turns her head and the side of her mouth presses to his sternum...so close to a jagged piston.
“What do you think of them?” sweet, like mother’s milk her voice is.
“Of what?” he asks, hanging on her noises; voice, breath and soft, steady engine-beat. The Doof in his ears is a steady vibration but it’s not real, just his erratic, uneven beat and sour adrenaline leftovers.
When he looks down, her silence making him itch and twitch and sweat and grow more thirsty, she is smiling and the shiny pain comes back in a feeling, much like when he gets his stuck pedal to finally crunch down despite a clog of sand. Relief, he thinks with a skip of his engine - it stutters in his chest before he can speak, but it doesn’t make him get up and pace like it usually would. For some reason the pain is shiny when she’s near, when she’s looking, touching and breathing and smiling and alive. Valhalla would have been like this, he knows, but Capable is alive and so is he, which makes him question whether he’ll taste anything so sweet as this when he goes out shiny and chrome. Three times...he thinks...the gates won’t open for him again and Capable is more shiny, more chrome than he’d ever imagined Valhalla to be. She is an explosion in the skin, with hair like flames and copper, like an endless combustion of guzzoline…
“...she said they used to steer travelers back home, away or where ever they wished, but they never got lost because of the pictures they made. Some of them even moved around on their own, put there by people before us.”
“The stars,” he rasped, meant to ask if he was right but it came out a breath instead when her hand, flat on his V8, slid down over his stomach, pushing like a punch that was warm but not hot. Chrome pain, shiny pain - the Doof in his head ripped faster as his engine thudded under his sick skin.
“She called the wandering ones sata-lights. The stars have been there longer than any of us though, maybe - I think, I think that’s where we go when our lives are complete.”
“The gates of Valhalla, are they there too?”
“Maybe...but it won’t be Joe that takes you there. We are all responsible for our own journey, even in death.”
This made him swallow dry and raw, thirsty. She was not sure. He had been so sure before and now it was brittle, rusty...having hope in something. A thick clog where Larry and Barry grew made his gulp loud, louder than the Doof in his ears, louder than the shiny pain her moving lips made on his scars.
“Here,” she sat back - the heat, the breath...her lips gone - a cool flask pressed to his V8 and his body tightened at the feeling, momentarily ready to revolt.
“I’m not addic-” he tried, dry from his lips to his stomach. So thirsty.
“Drink.”
Nux couldn’t move, engine sputtering. Thirsty. Low on high octane blood. Dry. His tongue on his lower lip didn’t even wet him but her eyes held his, steady like her breathes and her beating and she raised the open end to his lips. Nux was good at following orders, knew enough to just do before ordered so he opened for her and she filled him as carefully as a War Pup would guzzoline to a tank. Shiny pain again and he closed his eyes and drank, barely swallowing as Aqua Cola flowed freely down his throat. A curl of cool cola spilled down his chin, dripping on his V8, and his belly curled in lightning and thunder.
Tastes like Valhalla would feel, like Capable feels now and he drank, groaning and bending his spine, opening his throat despite the crunching of his mates. Larry whispering to spit it out, Barry quiet, just as thirsty...just as eager for Aqua Cola.
The flask clinked away, empty but for a few quiet sloshes at the bottom. Nux gasped, swallowing air as he had the cola, shivering, almost lost in the taste, deep enough in the sensation to not feel Capable’s lips on his chin at first touch, tongue curling under his neck where the dribble had ran. His body lurched, tilting his head back as her wetness slid up, tilting to kiss him. Different than how she kissed the Wives, different than when he kissed her cheek before - hurried, blood pumping overtime, engine roaring, pounding and steaming with purpose.
“Shiny...” he said, gasping it when her lips disappeared, leaving the wetness left over cold and biting, “...pain!” he hissed when her mouth went to the tiny droplet on his V8, lips on the puckered cutting...tongue and the touch of teeth. Nux blinked once, vision cutting briefly, then blinking again to find her looking back at him, brows furrowed...looking to help, looking sad…
“I hurt you,” she breathed, uneven.
“No, I like it!” he rasped, too loud and eager, afraid of her leaving him to the night fevers alone. The taste of her lips on his lips, of the water in his belly, of the Doof in his head ripping loud and excited - he liked it. Wanted it. Wanted the pain to always feel so shiny.
“It’s good,” he said again, after seeing her brows knit further together, her smile gone, “it’s shiny pain. I like it.”
“Shiny? Pain is pain, Nux. Do you mean...pleasure?” She pushed light fingers to the a raised flesh-piston, where her mouth had been, where cola had been. Aqua Cola she’d given him freely and generously.
“When it feels good it’s not pain, it’s pleasure.”
“Pleasure,” he repeated, nodding quickly, reaching up to touch her hand, resting on his V8, hoping his rust didn’t tarnish her chrome. Hoping she’d never move her touch away. Pleasure, Larry and Barry repeated with him, inside with the Doof that exploded in sparks and flames when she smiled, nodded and leaned in to touch her mouth to his again.
Better than the Aqua Cola, when she prodded his closed mouth with her warm, sodden tongue.
Better than Valhalla when she breathed a moan, hitching up in his lap to open him up and taste him deeper. Nux followed her, unspoken orders followed. Her silent urge, closing and opening of lips, of swipes of the tongue and licks at the insides of his cheeks. He rose, like the sun. Hot and dizzy, but not sick with it, engulfed by it.
Capable nipped, kissed and licked - shifted and his insides sang with shiny pain, no, PLEASURE! His soft bits going hard, swollen, wrong but feeling good. Pleasurable.
“Nux,” she spoke along his lower lip, “Nux, you’re hard…”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes went wide, waiting, watching the hairs on her eyelids flutter and open, wet blue shine towards him. It didn’t look like she wanted to rip him, not so close as this. You needed some good distance to rip someone. Instead he saw her face become welcoming, accepting.
“It’s alright, I’m not afraid,” she told him, honest.
He felt his former soft bits leap under her thigh, pulse with sparks that spidered up his stomach. Anchoring himself on the frame of the cab was his reaction when his hands wanted to twitch and grab at her hips, wider and softer than his. He wanted to go at her kamikrazy-like, throw himself under her wheels, inside her, but he wasn’t so sick yet to listen to Larry and his urging, we’ve seen the other War Boys, you know where it can go, rut her, rut her, breed her…it can’t be so different!
Capable turned, looking behind them, to the Vuvalini, the Wives, the Imperator and his Blood Bag, watching them briefly before turning back to hold his jaw in her hands, giving him a soft kiss that he accepted with a mediocre whine. His hands, black, dug into the folded metal of the cab’s rim, cutting shallow but enough to pull him away from an edge. Unfamiliar as it was, he hoped to fall over it like only he’d hoped to go out historic before.
“I have never been with anyone...else. I only know so much, and it’s not...pleasure. This though,” she kissed him again, leaning forward to hold the taste of her a little bit longer when she pulled back, “this is pleasure, Nux and I want more of it. Do you?”
Nux nodded, Larry and Barry agreeing as they so rarely did, at this offer. Offer of the shiney pain, the pleasure. His now hard bits throbbed and sometimes it felt like pain, just pain, but then it’d go shiny and then what was he suppose to do but hold onto the metal rim in his hands tighter, feel his thick blood ooze out. Grounding.
“Yes, yes...Glory be. Shiny pain - pleasure. The pleasure...please,” he added, hearing her use it before and getting what she asked for. The Doof in his head exploded, ripping and flaming when she shifted, rolling her hips. Intentional and smiling - sweet.
“Calm down, Nux.” She hushed him with a smile, hands touching down his neck, barely grazing Larry and Barry, never losing her smile as she did. His engine was overheating and she told him to calm down? “It doesn’t have to be quick, we can take our time if you want. I’m not...I’m not tired yet.”
Neither was he, he could go another two hands worth of nights before he had to entertain the night fevers, before Larry and Barry chewed so hard he’d go black. He wanted to die here, never let this end. He no longer imagined endless raids and battles as his Valhalla, just Capable. Just her.
“Do you’re hard bits hurt, too?” he asked, breathing sharp and sudden when she rolled deep into his lap. Thinking, she couldn’t do that like she did if they did.
She laughed and he felt Larry and Barry on his throat, tearing him with shame same as when he’d tripped on the rig in front of the Immortan Joe...no, just Joe. But the feeling was the same, then she touched his cheek and smiled sweet again and he swallowed wet, remembering the Aqua Cola she put to his lips, and the wet kisses, tongues sharing cola…
“I don’t have hard bits, I have...well, here…” she took his hand off the rim, seeing the blood and frowning.
More shame choked him but she only wet the end of the cloth over her shoulders with cola, dabbed at his palm, kissing it clean. Repeating the same careful cleaning with his other, kissing until he shook like he was cold, but he was warm and the Doof ripped fast adrenaline in his ears. She took his hand, careful like he would if he dared touch her, and rested it between her thighs. Nothing but a slope of softness...he remembers now. No soft bits that turned to hard bits.
“I forgot, you Bree-y you, you Wives have caverns,” he winced, slipping and insulting. Forgetful. But she did not look upset, she looked ready to laugh and that made him smile open-mouthed until she rolled down on his hand, pulling him by the wrist to settle under her. So hot and moist, truly like a cavern. Damp. He stared down in awe. She had Aqua Cola between her legs, what power was this? So uber chrome...
His mouth started running before he could think, “Some of the War Boys called it Valhalla made flesh. That’s why Immor-....why he…”
She looked upset now, fallen and his V8 stuttered, angry at himself for mixing his words, for bringing up what she hated - what she had a right to hate, based on what she told him. Nux went to tug his hand back, feeling mediocre - rusty - but she held on, not tight but enough that he knew she was not ending what she started. Not ending what he wanted to finish. Glory be, he’d die soft if she left him alone now, or worse, if she cast him out. It was so warm and contained where they were, secluded but safe.
The night lights on one side of her and the yellow lantern light on the other. She was the sun and the moon made flesh.