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Goodneighbor had never seemed more welcoming, Nick thought as the door thudded shut behind him. A few drifters milled about in front of Daisy's store, passing a bottle of vodka around and laughing about who knows what, one of the Neighborhood Watch gave him a tip of the hat and polite greeting as he passed by. Sure, Goodneighbor had an admittedly well-earned reputation around the Commonwealth, but it was one of the only places Nick could walk around freely without fearful or suspicious looks. Even Diamond City couldn't give him that much, and he'd lived there for years.
"Nick!" Hancock's voice caught his attention, the ghoul leaning against the doorframe of the State House. A cannister of Jet hung from one hand and the other lifted to wave him over. "Glad you made it, detective. I was wonderin' if maybe you'd gotten lost along the way."
"Good to see you too, Mayor Hancock," Nick said. "You talk like I haven't made the trip here more times than I care to count."
Hancock's eyes shone and he stashed the Jet away in his frock coat. "I know, I know. You can't stay away, can you?" Before Nick could make a witty retort, Hancock looped an arm around his waist and pulled him into a kiss that tasted like chems and mutfruit. Nick usually wasn't one for such blatant displays of affection, but Hancock kissed him in a manner that made his brain go fuzzy in a way that had nothing to do with static. "I know 'Ren won't be too far behind you, but I almost wish he takes his sweet time so I can get you all to myself for a little longer."
"He was getting off the vertibird right behind me but needed to talk some things over before he headed this way. He guessed he'd be here in an hour or so," Nick said, unable to think of anything else to say with Hancock staring at him like he wanted to eat him alive. The ghoul nodded and looked satisfied.
"Good. That gives us plenty of time. Now, come on in, Nicky, make yourself at home." Hancock bowed grandly and kicked the State House door open to usher Nick inside.
The interior had been cleaned up a bit since Nick's last visit some odd months ago. Even the electrical had been bumped up a notch, with more lights glowing on the walls to illuminate the actual real furniture inside. There were more beds in the side rooms instead of countless sleeping bags or ratty mattresses. Sure, there were still empty packs of mentats and syringes strewn about, but even those were fewer in number than Nick remembered seeing. He and Hancock made their way up the spiral staircase to Hancock's living quarters. Which hadn't changed at all, Nick though with no small amount of amusement. The doors swung shut behind them, but not before Hancock had a muttered conversation with one of the Watch guards posted outside.
"What was that about?" Nick asked as he sank down onto one of the couches.
Hancock sat beside him, kicking up his feet. "Just makin' sure no one plans on tryin' to stick their noses in for the next day or two."
"Day or two? What, you planning on keeping me hostage?"
"Somethin' like that." Hancock grinned. "I don't get to play host very often, Nicky, we always either end up at the agency or in Sanctuary. So I'm gonna take full advantage of all three of us bein' under my roof for once." He shrugged and draped an arm over Nick's shoulders. "Though maybe I ain't much of a host these days, 'specially when it comes to you. I know I should ask if you want a drink or somethin' but right now all I can think about is kissing every inch of your handsome mug."
Nick's gaze slid down over Hancock's face and settled on his chest, the dimpled flesh visible where he left the top buttons of his shirt undone. He'd made countless jokes in the past before about what an odd pair they made, even more so with Warren in the mix. A Vault-dweller, a ghoul, and a beat up old bot sure sounded like the set up for a bad bar joke. Apparently his little distraction was evident as Hancock reached out and tilted Nick's face up to meet his fully.
"Well?" he asked, amused.
"Well what?"
Hancock clicked his tongue. "If anything's gonna keep your mind occupied and your gears buzzin', I'd rather it be me," he said. "Or Warren. You can think about him all you like, too. He'll be here sooner than later, after all."
"Don't you think he'll be a little annoyed if we start without him?"
"That's part of the fun now, ain't it?" Hancock lowered his voice to a gravelly growl that sent a thrill down Nick's circuits. "So, you interested in raising a little hell? Or we could just sit around and play cards until 'Ren's here if you'd rather. I'm happy no matter what just so long as I get to spend the time with you."
Nick felt static crackle between the wires in his face. "You and Warren have been nothing but a bad influence, because much as I hate to admit it, raising hell does sound fun."
"That's the spirit, Nicky, I'm proud of you! Now get over here and let me kiss you."
Hancock pulled him over so he straddled his lap, the ghoul's hands already roaming up and down his sides, pushing off his coat and taking off his hat to toss it onto the coffee table. He seemed content to take his time, though, as he paused in the undressing to instead pull Nick down into a kiss. If the one outside the State House was dirty, this one was positively filthy. Hancock growled his approval each time Nick slipped his tongue into his mouth or caught Hancock's in his teeth. It didn't take long before they were both breathless, Nick already feeling the heat radiating off his synthetic skin as Hancock repeatedly rocked his hips up and pressed his crotch against Nick's.
A dance they'd shared countless times but still one that never failed to get either of them riled up. Hancock tugged one side of Nick's suspenders off his shoulder and was making a show of doing the same to the other when the doorknob jiggled. Instantly self-conscious, Nick nearly jumped up and away but Hancock gripped his hips and kept him firmly planted in place, tongue tracing up one of the gaps in the side of his face. Nick kept his eyes on the door as it opened and Warren stepped over the threshold.
Any other time, he'd have expected Warren to make some kind of smartass remark about them not being able to wait an hour for him to join in, but instead he just looked flustered, almost upset from the second he stepped into the room. Hancock immediately stopped trying to feel up Nick's ass and pulled away. He helped the synth off his lap and they scooted over to give Warren room to sit, but he just stood awkwardly above them, forcing a smile as he met Nick's eye.
"Having fun?" He was trying to sound casual, act like they hadn't noticed the way the air changed with his arrival, but it was too late for that.
"What's wrong, 'Ren?" Nick asked. The man sighed.
"Nothing really, just...maybe had a bit of a spat with some Brotherhood soldiers. I'm sure Elder Maxson wouldn't be too thrilled, but that's assuming they report it, and I doubt they will given my rank and all."
Nick and Hancock exchanged glances. It wasn't like Warren to pick fights that weren't deserved, much less with the Brotherhood. They didn't see eye to eye on certain things but there was a mutual respect the organization shared with the man they'd promoted to Sentinel.
"What kind of spat?" Hancock asked.
"After Nick got off the vertibird outside Diamond City, I maybe overheard some of them talking. That's why I didn't walk here with you, Nick, I'm sorry for not explaining that better." Warren scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
"No need to apologize," Nick replied. "Curious to know what they could have been saying, though, that it was worth getting into an argument over."
Warren's face turned red. Not the usual sweet shade of crimson it did when he was flustered, either; the deep red that meant he was very, very angry. "I didn't argue, I knocked the scribe's teeth out and about did the same to the knight."
Hancock whistled and tried not to look impressed. "Well shit."
"I'd do it again, too. I'm just sorry I ran out of time to call them the rest of the names I was thinking before I left." Warren finally sat down. "I seriously doubt either of them or the lancer flying the bird will say anything since I outrank them both. Even if the reason I put them both on their asses wasn't exactly Brotherhood of me."
"What, did they insult your cooking, too?" Nick teased, but the look Warren gave him was almost sad.
"No, they were talking about you."
Nick just sat there for a moment. "Oh." He scratched at his nose with the fingers of his fleshless hand, metal glinting in the light. "You know, it wouldn't be the first time they made comments, and I'm sure I've heard worse."
"That shouldn't matter." Warren scowled. "One cracked a stupid joke, so I told them they needed to knock it off. Then they started going off about what they'd do with you when they turned you to scrap and I just saw red. Told them if they didn't shut their mouths, I'd shut them for them. Next thing I knew, the scribe was picking their teeth up out of the dirt and the knight was trying to keep me from kicking his teeth in, too. I chewed them out for probably ten minutes before I left to come meet you here. Maybe stopped to shoot a few windows in along the way. I'm just...I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" Nick shook his head. "Sounds like you already took care of the people who should be saying sorry, not that they ever would. Brotherhood just doesn't like to consider maybe they've been wrong about which people have already been people the whole time, much less that there's some technology out there they can't just haul off and away themselves. Anyway, don't beat yourself up, I like to think this synth skin of mine does a good enough job keeping the worst of the insults out. That's a perk of mine you soft skinned humans wouldn't know anything about."
The three laughed together and the mood lightened, if just by a fraction.
"I appreciate you standing up for me, though," Nick said. "They're just lucky it was you they decided to pull that crap with and not Hancock."
"Fuck yeah they're lucky," Hancock snarled. "They'd be wishin' it was only their teeth they were diggin' up out of the dirt by the time I was done with 'em."
"I thought about it," Warren admitted. "Next time maybe I should bring Hancock along. When you get angry it's even scarier than staring down a pack of ferals."
Hancock looked pleased, clearly proud of his ability to strike fear even when Nick and Warren both knew he was as hard as a pillow on the inside. "You sure know how to sweet talk a fella, Warren, but I ain't the one you should be buttering up right now."
Nick jumped when he felt Hancock slip a hand between him and the couch cushion to cradle his ass in his palm. Warren scoffed and crossed his arms.
"You two really couldn't wait for me to get here, could you?" he huffed.
"You can't blame me, can you?" Hancock gave Nick's ass a squeeze and pretended not to notice the way the synth jumped. "Nick's way too good looking to not feel him up every chance I get."
Before Nick could say anything, Warren laughed and reached over, put a hand on one of his knees. "I'd have to agree with you there."
"You two are out of your damn minds," Nick mumbled, and his voice was already tinged with static. "You're both way better looking than I am."
"Keep telling yourself that, Nicky," Hancock said, the hand beneath him kneading his synthetic flesh insistently. "But in case you haven't noticed, you're surrounded by stubborn assholes, so arguing ain't gonna get you anywhere. That is, unless you want to see what happens if you push."
Maybe he really did spend too much time around the two of them, Nick thought, seeing as he almost did want to argue, see just what they would do to him if he pushed just a little too far. He'd seen Warren and Hancock do just that, the latter usually teasing and poking until Warren would shove him down against the closest flat surface -- horizontal or otherwise -- and silence him with hands or lips or something along those lines. Nick hadn't been on the receiving end of such attentions before, mostly because he was far too impatient, really, to spend all that time teasing or stringing anyone along like that.
It seemed he might not get his chance this time either, because the other two acted before he could so much as think of another witty retort. Warren began to work at the task Hancock had already begun before his arrival, clever fingers tugging open the buttons of his shirt without looking. His eyes were focused on Nick's face, which was already beginning to prickle beneath the gaze. Hancock had slipped onto his knees on the floor and his hands slid up and down Nick's thighs. He could feel the warmth of his palms soak through the material of his slacks. It was a familiar warmth that crept up his sensors and sent static building up along the circuits of his spine.
"Perfect." Warren's voice sounded almost dreamy as he pushed Nick's shirt back and away from his shoulders. "Absolutely perfect."
Hancock hummed in agreement and unhooked Nick's belt. "Those Brotherhood assholes don't know what the fuck they're talking about. You're gorgeous."
While Nick wasn't as uncomfortable being naked around his lovers as he once had been, that didn't stop him from squirming under their heated gazes, especially when he began to realize they weren't planning on getting undressed with him. Sure, he knew their compliments were entirely sincere, but that didn't stop him from feeling more and more awkward when the words were accompanied by increasingly shameless touches. With Nick's shirt removed, Warren's hands found a new task. His fingers skirted up the sides of Nick's throat, just barely grazing the worn edges of his skin. Nick bit back a grunt when one of his thumbs brushed up inside and touched one of the number of wires within.
"Aw," Hancock moped. He was making a very obvious show of unzipping Nick's pants, but paused in the effort to give him a well-practiced pout. "Don't be shy, darlin', we like hearing all those little noises you make. They're cute."
"Oh I'm cute now?" Nick mumbled, glad his voice functions weren't too compromised. Yet.
Hancock laughed, a raspy sound that never failed to make Nick shiver. "You're fucking sexy."
Well that certainly got the coolant pumping. Nick didn't even try to stifle the pleased little sound that rose up in his throat. Hancock looked smugger than ever while he pulled Nick's pants off and away. Warren paused in his gentle stroking of Nick's face to admire him from the waist down.
The first time Nick had been naked like that in front of the two, he'd been mortified by his anatomy. Or perhaps more accurately, the lack thereof. Between his thighs there was nothing but the same worn synthetic skin that covered the rest of him. It had taken time, but Warren and Hancock had never acted like there was anything wrong with that and had loved him despite that
If the Brotherhood wanted to talk like he was nothing more than a walking, talking piece of scrap, let them. If the Institute had seen him as just a tool to be programmed and reprogrammed and then tossed in the trash when he'd outrun his usefulness, Nick didn't care anymore. The only people whose opinions mattered were in this room, behind closed doors, and Nick knew above anything else, they loved him no matter what.
Warren kissed him again, and Nick made a point to bite at his bottom lip every time he tried to pull away. Nick wanted to keep his eyes open, to admire the thousand minute expressions on the man's face whenever he felt teeth, but it was hard to do so when Hancock's breath flooded hot between his thighs. Gnarled hands gripped his knees, massaged the joints, and Nick jolted when Hancock's lips began to kiss a trail up the inside of his thighs, alternating from one leg to the other.
"Already squirming?" Hancock's eyes were bright. "Good. Now, lemme hear that pretty voice of yours. Tell me how it feels?"
Nick gasped when Hancock bit and sucked at his thigh, sensors lighting up in response. "Feels so good," he managed to force out. "Keep going."
Hancock obeyed, tongue slicking up the seam between two panels of synthetic skin. Nick may not have had any sort of genitalia to pleasure, but it sure didn't stop either of his lovers from going down on him with borderline obsession. Hancock's face planted directly between his legs and he kissed and licked the skin there. The warmth of his mouth seeped through the thinning panels and crept beneath them, directly against the sensors spaced along Nick's metallic skeleton. He shuddered at the sensation but was held firm in place by Hancock's capable hands.
Warren's, meanwhile, alternated between cradling his face like some precious object or exploring his chest as though it was the first time he'd ever done so. Nick grit his teeth and hissed when Warren pressed his nails into the flesh above his ribs. A blunt, gentle pressure but one that made his hips jerk upwards all the same. In the back of his mind he worried for a half second about Hancock, but a single look through his flickering eyes confirmed the ghoul was not only fine, but was clearly encouraging him to do it again. Warren's nails raked down a few inches to a spot where Nick's skin had worn through.
Years and years of wear and tear, being tossed around and beaten down meant he'd seen better days, but Nick felt like a brand new man as Warren and Hancock lavished him with more attention than his processors could keep up with. Warren's fingertips trailed up and down the tattered edge of his skin before they slipped beneath and repeated the motion on the inside. Nick let out several long blurbs of static, back arching off the couch.
"That's it," Warren crooned in his ear. "I love it when you start making those noises, when you feel so good you can't even speak. The fact we're the only ones who can do this to you...fuck."
Nick turned his head in a wordless demand for a kiss. Thankfully Warren understood the motion and slotted their lips together, dutifully swallowing down all the incoherent, staticky noises that poured from Nick's jaw like a fountain. Of course, the sound of whirring machinery and processors only got louder with each passing moment, but even those were all but drowned out by the sloppy noises Hancock made between Nick's legs. He found a sweet spot where one of Nick's sensors was directly beneath a particularly thin bit of skin and alternated between sucking it and rolling his tongue against it. Nick's thighs shook with all the effort it took to keep from clamping them around Hancock's head. Effort wasted, it seemed, because the moment Hancock pressed a finger into a gap in the paneling at Nick's hip and brushed the tip against a clump of wiring, that's exactly what his legs did.
"Oh shit," Hancock growled, his voice muffled as he was thrust even more firmly against Nick's crotch. He pinched the wires he'd found and rolled them between the calloused pads of his fingers. "Don't worry, I ain't going anywhere."
"Neither of us are," Warren muttered in agreement. His teeth skirted over Nick's jaw and tugged at the edge of the gasp in his throat. "You're so fucking hot. C'mon, keep making those pretty sounds for me."
Every word he spoke, each excited exhale from his nostrils; they all poured into Nick's very core, both literally and figuratively. He had old memories of physical sensations the original Nick had felt with his lovers over two centuries ago, memories that used to make him feel so much less than. Memories that haunted him with sensations of touch he knew he'd never experience himself. But such thoughts didn't plague him anymore. After all, the fact that he could feel the moaned and adamant words of his lovers physically seep into his flesh, filling every empty space in his artificial body in a way a human body could never experience; this was his. His and his alone.
Static hissed and crackled out from his slack jaw, and he made no efforts to stifle the noise. It mixed with Warren's breathless groans and Hancock's desperate growls. Nick felt coolant speeding through his limbs in an effort to prevent his overheating, could hear it sloshing about alongside the steady whirring of his processor. Warren continued to kiss up and down his neck, one hand cradling the back of his skull while the other fingered a bundle of wires in his throat. Hancock was grunting Nick's name, punctuated with a slew of obscenities that sounded like poetry, while his mouth continued its sinful worship between Nick's thighs.
Nick felt the usual sense of belonging, of being loved and wanted at the hands and mouths of the two men he, too, loved more than anything. But perhaps for the first time, as his synthetic body was being flooded with breathless words of praise, sensations he could scarcely register as his mind was bogged with the same static that gushed from his mouth, Nick felt more. He felt beautiful.
The impending sense of a total shutdown crept up along his body, a feeling he'd experienced more times than he could count. But instead of the usual pang of anxiety, of lingering embarrassment that he didn't just reach orgasm like Hancock or Warren did, Nick held his breath and embraced the thrill fully.
"You're close, aren't you?" Warren breathed, and he stared Nick directly in the eyes. "Go on, Nick, let go. Let go; you know we're here to catch you."
Sensors and modulators and processors overwhelmed, all unnecessary functions began to go offline as Nick's body was flooded with coolant. Speech wasn't needed when he was rebooting, there was no way he should have been able to speak.
All the same, even when he knew his vocal processor was offline, Nick somehow managed to utter a final sentence before he shut down.
"Love you."
Usually his sense of hearing was the first thing to come back online, but Nick smelled something before voices began to register in his mind. He could smell tobacco and something almost fruity. Cigarettes and Mentats. Warren and Hancock had to be nearby. They always were when he woke up after they had sex. A pattern of behavior that would have made him blush if he were physically capable of it.
"He looks pretty cute when he's coming back online." Hancock's voice was the first one Nick could make out fully. "I should tell him that sometime. I don't think I tell him how much I love him enough."
Nick felt a hand brushing over the top of his head. Warren. "Yeah, me neither. Though if I'm being honest, I could tell the two of you how much I love you and how lucky I am a bastard like me landed you two gods among men every second for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough."
"Gods among men, huh? I could get used to the sound of that."
Both men chuckled and Nick felt a click in his chest and a ping in his skull. Limb functionality was restored, along with his sense of touch. He was freezing, joints sore, but he was laying against something soft and covered in blankets. His sight came back after another few moments, and the room came into focus. He was laying on the couch, and Warren and Hancock were sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing cards while they waited for him to wake back up.
"Who's winning?" Nick's voice was harsh as it came back into service.
Hancock fixed him with a radiant smile. "Hey, Nicky! I'm currently kicking Warren's ass, and you'd better hope I do, too. He has to run naked through the Third Rail when I win."
"You're dreaming." Warren rolled his eyes. "Besides, we only agreed to play until Nick woke up. You're the one who decided to toss that little stipulation in."
Hancock stuck out his tongue. "You're just sore I hustled you this time, sunshine. Told you I'd get you back for all those times you won at strip poker."
Nick pulled himself up into a sitting position but kept the blankets wrapped snug around his shoulders. "Well, by all means, don't stop playing on my account. Third Rail could do with a bit of excitement."
Warren looked like he'd been struck by lightning and Hancock looked like Christmas had come earlier. "Nick Valentine! You're supposed to be the responsible one here!"
"What can I say, I've been around the pair of you too long." He grinned at them both. "Maybe I'll join in and hustle you both. Magnolia and I can enjoy the view. I'm sure your constituents would love to see where you stand on all the issues, Mayor Hancock."
All three of them doubled over in laughter for some time after that. Tears were streaming down Warren's face when they finally had to catch their breaths, and he leaned back against Nick's cocoon of blankets. The synth reached down and ran his fingers though his hair, watching as Hancock put away the deck of cards and instead fiddled with Warren's Pip-Boy to get the radio on. As the sound of The Ink Spots filled the room and Nick's body temperature began to warm up under the layers of blankets, he had a moment to think all over again.
Warren and Hancock chatted about various comings and goings around town, about the upcoming mayoral election in Diamond City, about what to eat for dinner. Nick noticed his coat and fedora had been neatly placed on the coffee table nearby, folded just the way he liked. Outside of this room, there would always be people who didn't like him, whether that was for who he was or what he was made of. People whose minds were already made up, whose minds he could never change no matter how good of a man he strove to be. But the world outside seemed so very small, so insignificant when compared to the universe he'd discovered, forged for himself, shared with the two men sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him.
Nick didn't need the world to love him. He never had. All he needed, before, now, and forever, was held within his gaze.
It was beautiful.