Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"When are you gonna give up the whole detective thing, blue?" 

Rhys' mouth tightened as he tried to think of a response.

Piper wasn't the first person to ask questions about this new habit. Preston had asked, in his very gentle but responsible way, if Rhys would still help with Minutemen stuff. Of course, Rhys had left that conversation feeling like a jerk -- and had promised Garvey that he and Nick would go scope out some settlements. Hancock had brought it up more to tease him about borrowing Nick's old hand-me-down coat. Rhys had shoved his friend and told him if Hancock was a gentleman, he'd be wearing his red coat instead. MacCready had only brought it up to ask how many caps were in the solving crime business; Rhys had to let the cap-hungry merc know that he usually refused the pay. 

Piper had been the most recent. She had asked Rhys to help her scope out a group of gunners that had holed up near the city. Rhys was a little suspicious when she interrupted Nick mid-pulling on his coat to say she only needed Rhys. Piper's type of trouble had never upset the sole survivor. Her more charming nature would often make him feel more grounded. He had never been good at talking, getting people to see his side, but with Piper's sly smile and his rather enormous gun, they managed just fine. 

Things with Millie had been similar. She did most of the talking. She was going to school to be a lawyer, which intimidated Rhys. They had been getting checks frequently for Rhys’ ‘war hero’ status. Likely a way to keep him quiet, so he’d be the perfect story for the government to sell to the public. The only survivor of his squad. In newspapers, it spoke of how he had bravely tried to save them all, and had lost a leg in his efforts. In reality, he had run when things got too hairy, and stepped on a mine. By some stroke of luck, it had only ruined his legs, not his entire body. The doctors successfully preserved the left leg, but they could not repair the right leg because of its severe damage. They often sent him invitations to speak at events and tell his story, which he had always rejected. At least, until it seemed necessary; to get them to leave him alone. If someone looked too closely into his life, they would be in serious trouble.

But that was all over now. Millie would never worry about the security of their lives again. 

The vault dweller and reporter settled in. Rhys set up his sniper rifle right on the ledge so he could watch the group while kneeling comfortably. 

"Do you disapprove?" He asked with his usual monotone voice he had when he was trying to focus, although the question had caught him off guard.

"Not necessarily. I can see that it makes you happy. But I think a certain synth is what's drawing you to it." Piper's elbow was propped underneath her chin, asking the probing question nonchalantly. 

Rhys' gun almost slipped out of his hand, but he recovered quickly and went back to peering out of the scope. Piper had only smirked a little before speaking again. 

"Let me guess..... no comment?" She poked his shoulder good-naturedly. "I just wanna know what's going on, blue. I can't say I'm a good friend to you unless I get you to open up a little." 

"I'm not gay, Piper." Rhys hissed out. The tension in his shoulder was almost giving him a headache now. He set the gun down and raised his hand to rub in between his eyes. He wasn’t a good liar.

"I never said you were." 

Rhys grumbled at this, causing Piper to lean in and rest her hand on his back. "You didn't marry your wife because you were in love with her. Shaun is your stepson. I know I see you checking out Nicky's backside when you don't thi--" 

"Stop!" 

Rhys had sat up suddenly, forcing Piper to jolt with the movement. He looked at her face, searching for some disgust or resentment. But she only looked surprised by his outburst. He pulled his hands down his face. Leaning down to sit cross-leg, he rested his elbows into his knees. Piper once again  moved closer and stroked his arm. 

"Blue, you don't have to say anything. But if I'm right and you have feelings for Nick, which might explain the sudden interest in being a detective.... and a lot of other things... you should go for it." 

Rhys lifted his head and stared blankly at his friend. How could she understand? 

"Piper, before the bombs, I wouldn't have been accepted ." 

Millie had wanted him to get out there and find a man. But Rhys had always been too afraid. He knew that being caught would risk Millie as much as himself. Rhys wished she wouldn't encourage him, wished she had more self-preservation. He wished he had been the one to carry Shaun into the cryo-pod.

Piper gave him a confused look. "I heard social things were a lot stricter back then. I guess I never considered that being something that ever mattered." 

"Me and Nick are both from that time." 

Piper gave Rhys a horrified look.

"Do you think Nick... Nick, the most generous and kind-hearted synth in Diamond City --- would be against that? I've seen him help gay couples before, Blue. There's no way." 

"Just because he's nice about it doesn't mean he's gonna want to hop in a relationship with a man. I don't even know if he's interested in dating anyone at all." Rhys crossed his arms defiantly. "He's never hinted at being anything more than friends. I know for a fact he never will." 

Piper glared at him. 

"FACT?! Look! All I know is that he touches you a lot more than I've seen him touch anyone! He's always staring at you, with a smile on his face, like you just got him a god-damned puppy on his birthday!" Piper was almost yelling now, waving her hands in the air as she spoke. "You should check your facts if you think Nick isn't head over heels for you!" 

Piper's yelling had reached a point where the camp below could hear her. A shout could be heard from below, bullets starting to fly their way. She cursed under her breath and pulled Rhys to his feet with her. 

"Look, this conversation isn't over!" She gave a sheepish smile. "But it looks like I woke the boys up. You do your sniper thing while I get in a little closer." 

Piper pulled out her pistol and shot off down the stairs. Rhys only groaned, praying he didn't make it out of this to avoid the conversation. 

While Piper was busy looking for a good vantage point, Rhys picked off all the gunners he could aim a quick headshot at. It wasn't that hard to make it out here if you just aimed well and had some weird amount of luck.

The nurses that spoon-fed him jello through the Mentat withdrawals and the recovery from his surgeries had always told him how lucky he was. They said anyone else would be dead right now. Rhys didn’t feel lucky, as he craved the chalky drug so badly, his brain so sluggish that the pain from his leg felt infinite.

Finally, he could see Piper down below. She was ducked behind a concrete wall occasionally throwing shots back. Rhys got a little distracted from smirking at her shots she let out with no real aim and didn't see that the gunner's sniper had set up on a ledge of his own. Before Rhys could even register what happened a bullet tore a gash into his cheekbone and had made a bloody hole in the cartilage of his ear. He hissed in pain, but luckily his aim was a lot better than the gunners. He quickly aimed and fired, and just like that -- their sniper had a brand new hole in his head. Luckily Rhys' new hole was a lot less finalizing. 

As he leaned back down behind the cover and looked at his Pip-Boy to assess the damage, Piper had begun shooting to kill and the final few gunners were done. By the time she had come back up, Rhys had dug through his pockets and realized he had forgotten to grab stims. He had been promised this was just gonna be a little spying -- of course his usual stash of stims had been left in the office. Piper saw the blood on his face and ran over. She lifted his cheek and ear to get a better look and hissed in pain. 

"Assuming you're dry on the stims, since you haven't got one sticking out of your face right now...?" 

Rhys just groaned. "Diamond City isn't far. I'd like to get back to my supplies…before I get an infection." 

Piper grabbed his elbow and pulled him to his feet. Rhys quickly pulled his rifle over his shoulder while Piper pulled a cloth out of her bag. 

"Here, wrap this around your head to stop the bleeding on your ear. You can worry about the gash on your face later I guess." 

Rhys gave her a grimace and did as she ordered. The wound had only worsened his headache and he wasn't feeling up to any more questioning from his friend. He made a 'follow me' motion with his hand, and the pair headed to Diamond City. 

----- 

Rhys had managed to drop Piper off at her place, which was helped by the fact that Nat was dragging her inside. The vault dweller made his way down the alleyway that led to the agency, pausing momentarily when he noticed Nick perched out front. His degloved hand was pinching a lit cigarette while he anxiously tapped his foot on the pavement. His sensors must have picked up the sole survivor who was darkened into a shadow a little ways down. He smiled and walked leisurely towards his friend. 

"There you are, I was starting to think Piper may have been a little too forgiving on how safe your trip was gonna be." He smiled with his metal teeth peeking out from behind his lips. The smile only fell once Rhys stepped into the light 

"What happened to your mug?" Nick hissed out. He reached up like he wanted to touch Rhys' jaw but hesitated. 

"It was going fine until our cover got blown. I didn't notice the sniper until he shot at me...." Rhys took another step forward and pointed awkwardly at the door to the agency. "If you have a mirror around I can take care of it myself." 

Nick let out a short strained laugh and shook his head. 

" Don't tend to keep mirrors around, no-- but I can take care of it for you. I'd be a bad partner if I didn't." 

Rhys felt his face heat a little but nodded, he hoped the dim light in the alley hid it well. 

As they made their way inside, Nick led Rhys to a chair behind his desk and sat him down. The synth quickly stepped into the adjacent room and came back with Rhys' medical bag. He set up a few things on his desk while he leaned against it. The desk he leaned  on was a good vantage point for him to be able to bend down and remove the bloody cloth that had been haphazardly tied around his partner's head. Nick hissed again. 

" shit--- doll, this looks bad, that's a lot of blood. What made you think it would be a good idea to leave your supplies here? It's not like I need them!" Nick scolded him, meanwhile, he poured some alcohol into a clean cloth and began to wipe the dried blood away from his face. 

"Piper said she just needed me to scope them out." Rhys paused to hiss out in pain as Nick wiped around the bullet wound on his ear. "I--- ow---she said it wasn't far so I just assumed I wouldn't have to shoot anyone." 

Nick had gotten most of the blood off at this point, but the wound on Rhys' ear had started a slow bleed now that it had been disturbed again. Nick was frowning, his eyebrows pinched together both from frustration and concentration. 

"I wish I coulda’  been there to help out. Having a busted-up synth there-- hey, maybe they woulda' shot at me instead." 

It was Rhys' turn to frown. He leveled a glare at the detective. 

"I would never let that happen, Nick. I'd rather me take some damage than you. At least my skin can heal----no offense." 

Nick was looking at the supplies in the bag, pulling out a needle and the thread he'd need to sew the gash closed. 

"None taken." He leaned Rhys’ face to the side to get a better look at his ear, his fingers barely touching the man. "Sure you can heal, but here's a fact. If my arm gets blown off at least I can reattach it. 'No offense.'" 

Rhys half-heartedly kicked his partner with his prosthetic leg. He grumbled out "You and Piper with your facts." 

Nick gave him a sideways look as he began working the wound closed. Something impending and doom-fearing nestled into his face.

"What did Piper want anyway? She seemed real adamant to get you alone." Nick avoided Rhys' eyes. "She going sweet on you?" 

Rhys couldn't help but jolt a little at the question, a blush he couldn't hold back rising to his cheeks. Nick glared at him for moving before getting back to work. 

"No! No--- she was asking me about uh. About my romantic life--" Nick raised an eyebrow at him. "--- not like that! Oh god, this is embarrassing." 

"Well if it's 'not like that', how was it?" Nick avoided his eyes again. "She thinks you got eyes for some dame?" 

Rhys closed his eyes tight. He knew it would be easier if he told Nick outright what had gone down, but it was hard. 

He remembered how surprised he was when Millie had told him she'd marry him, it wasn't romantic like how it would be for anyone else. She had just figured out she was pregnant and needed to get away from the baby's father. She had known Rhys since they were kids, she knew he liked men, but more importantly, she also knew he was trans. The marriage would help her, but it would also be a good alibi for the former soldier. That kiss they shared at the courthouse wedding had been the first kiss of his life. He had never been with anyone before getting married and had resigned to the fact that he never would be. Talking about this kind of thing was something Rhys didn't know how to navigate. 

He looked at Valentine, perched against the desk now tying off the suture in his ear. 

"No, not a dame. Uh--- she thought I had eyes for a guy." Rhys forced the last few words out. "She's a lot more observant than I thought she was." The anxiety from just saying that made his whole body tense, and the world around him seemed to get a little smaller. 

Nick's jaw opened in surprise, but he managed to steal it back and put on a casual smile. 

"Oh, well I didn't know you swung that way." Nick faltered. "You never told me because you assumed I'd have some pre-war ideal about that kind of thing?" 

Rhys nodded, he could now that Valentine was busy pulling out a bandage from the bag. "I never told anyone outright—besides Millie." 

Nick began taping the gauze onto his ear." I get not wanting anyone to know back then, but why not now? You’re friends with Hancock for goodness sake, that man hangs off the arm of any squeeze that's interested." 

He finished with the ear and applied a smaller bandage to his face. "These days people don't care about that kind of thing, Rhys." 

The vault dweller nodded, too embarrassed and anxious to give a proper response. Nick finished with the bandaging and put everything back into the medical pouch. When he was done he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back to settle a look at his partner. 

"Who's the guy? I'm assuming it's someone we both know considering we're together 90% of the time." 

Rhys wished Nick had just dropped it. He's not a liar, especially not to Nick. The anxiety was punching him in the stomach now, making him feel dizzy and nauseous. God why did Nick even care about this, Piper couldn't have been right when she said he had feelings for him. Nick was likely asking from a place of courtesy, but the stern look on his face made Rhys think he seemed more worried than casual.

"Uh yeah--- you know him. Uh--" Rhys looked anywhere but at his friend, god this was excruciating. "Nick I want to tell you, I want to have things be transparent, but I don't want you to get upset." 

"Upset?" Nick's face contorted into a confused tilt of his head, before he seemed to figure something out that made him frown. "Let me guess, is it Hancock? Figured when he flirted with you it was one-sided since you never reciprocated--- but you two are real close, it makes sense." 

"I didn't realize he was flirting..." Rhys let out a frustrated growl. " You're a good detective but you've got it all wrong Nick-- it's you--- I mean you uh--- you're the guy." 

Nick gave Rhys a stunned look, an unreadable emotion smeared onto his face. Rhys waited for him to reply but Nick still just sat there, looking straight through the sole survivor. 

"You're upset--- I knew you'd be upset. No man like you could be into men. I'm sorry if this completely ruins your image of me… so sorry I---" Before he could continue Nick put a hand on his shoulder, which made Rhys' mouth snap shut.

“Rhys.” Nick cringed and removed his hand. “You’re fooling?”

Rhys mirrored the synth's frown. The way Nick recoiled from him made him feel uneasy.

He thought maybe the man in the super duper mart had been giving him the eye. He had drank a lot of coffee that morning, so he was feeling a little more gutsy than usual. He looked back, giving the man a smile and his best look over. The man noticed, scowled at him, and walked back to a woman Rhys hadn’t realized was there. As he whispered to her, Rhys panicked, and had left his cart in the middle of the store to book it out the front doors. He had never driven home so fast.

But Nick wasn’t some random guy in a store, he was his closest friend. 

“No-- I……no, I wouldn't joke about something like this.” Rhys reached up to wipe a hand down his face, only to remember the bandages and put his hand in his lap. “Nick you’re my best friend, I know you I -- I wouldn’t tease you like that.”

Nick's gaze seemed distant again, his eyes darting slightly like he was looking for something. Rhys just waited, watching Nick anxiously.

“Rhys I……I'm not queer…” Nick still doesn't look at him. “Prewar I never---the real Nick never felt like that towards men.”

Rhys' heart sank, this was what he expected, but he still had hoped for something different -- had hoped for a miracle. He wanted to get up and leave, escape this conversation before it got worse. But he had to pay for his mistakes.

“I…..understand.” Rhys tries to fake a smile. His mouth curled into more of a grimace. “I'm glad that you know…..I guess. It felt…wrong to hide that from you.”

“It wouldn't have been wrong if you did,” Nick says, a little heat seeping into his words. “If you kept it to yourself.”

Rhys' stomach churns. “Oh-- well I guess it wouldn't be awful if I hadn’t said anything. Maybe I would have gotten over it someday--”

“Isn't what we have now good for you?” Nick stares hard at the wall. His volume level rising. “Why would you mess it all up over….over this! Over some silly feeling, you think you have!”

“I'm not…..trying to mess this up.” Rhys stands slowly. “I didn't…..I thought….”

“You weren't thinking!” Nick stands quickly, his desk being pushed away from the movement. He takes a step back, clearly making distance between him and Rhys.

Rhys steps back in surprise, wobbling slightly. Nick follows the movement with his yellow eyes, silently reaching over to pass Rhys his cane he had left here before. Rhys accepts it, confused at the offer.

“Nick, I think we can just move past this, it doesn't have to be a big deal! We can just…can we please just go back to normal?” Rhys pleads, his hands starting to shake. The cane helps balance him out.

Things with Millie almost felt normal. He thought being a husband and a father would make him feel fulfilled, like a real man. Just when he thought it was all going right it was taken away. Taken by something way bigger than just him and his family, something he had no control of.

“I think you should go,” Nick says, staring at the floor.

Rhys stands completely still. So the offer of the cane had been his parting gift? 

His mother tried to pull him close as he cried, his little body shaking so hard he almost felt like he was going to fall over. He didn't understand why her touch had made him feel so trapped then. Now he knew it was because he never felt loved by her. He had pushed her away, ran to the bathroom, and locked himself inside. His mother pounded on the door. After that, she never tried to hold him while he cried. He always did it where no one could see. He’d rather be alone than be with someone who had no love for him. He felt that urge now, to run away. 

“If that's what you want, I'll leave, Nick.” Rhys squeezes the handle of his cane. “You never have to see me again if you don't want to.”

“Fine.”

A tear rolls down Rhys' cheek as he turns away. 

“Bye, Nick.”

After saying goodbye, Rhys steps into the alleyway outside Nick's office, away from the glow of the heart-shaped neon light. He stands still for a moment, the darkness of the night providing him some comfort. He always felt more comfortable in obscurity, where no one could look at him too long.

He was always thinking like a sniper, the army training was thorough. Nick’s gaze was one he felt comfortable under. So rare that he felt safe to be seen like that. 

The next rush of tears pushes him on. The desperation to be as far away from Diamond City as possible quickened his steps. Tears spilled down his face rapidly. He breathes heavily as he rushes towards the diamond city gates. He's barely paying attention as he passes Piper's apartment, the journalist herself sitting out front. A lit cigarette was held between her fingers.

“Blue? Is that you sneaking around in the dark?” She says with a laugh.

Rhys halts in his steps, surprised to hear her voice. When he doesn't respond to her question she steps closer, an anxious huff of air leaving her lungs.

“Whoa Blue, what's going on?” Her eyes widen. “Where's Nick?”

“He's probably uh–” Rhys sniffs. “Probably at the agency still?”

“Well…that's good, I thought you might have gone home to a crime scene.” Piper laughs forcefully. “What happened? This isn't under the record by the way.”

Her joke rolls right off the vault dweller, he shrugs before remembering how annoyed Millie would get at his shrugging. 

‘Why don't you answer me with words instead of your shoulders?’ She had said once. It was playful, she rarely got mad with him, but he remembered it. He wanted to remember anything he could of her. 

“I listened to your advice. He didn't take it well.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘he didn't take it well’?”

“He told me I ruined everything and that I should leave.” Rhys wipes a tear away. “So I left.”

“Why would he…” Piper looks off into the distance for a moment, thoughtfully. “He has feelings for you…why would he–”

“He doesn't Piper!” Rhys sucks in a breath to soothe the heat that just poured out of him. “ He told me to never try seeing him again. Why would a guy who has feelings for someone cut them off?”

“Blue—”

“I have to go.” Rhys begins walking away, his cane crunching into the gravel. “I'll be in Goodneighbor if you need me.”

“Blue wait-- the storm! let me come with you!”

“No— please just— just stay here.” Rhys continues. “Thanks for trying, Piper.”

Rhys pushes past the gates of the city. Past the protection provided by the city guard. Into the creeping darkness.

Chapter Text

“You look like shit, Sunshine.”

Rhys looks at the ghoul with a miserable expression. His tears were now dry, replaced by the rainwater dripping down his face. His coat and vault suit was soaked through, enough that his boots were filled with irradiated water. Mud caking the edges of his coat and the entirety of his shoes.  A radstorm had begun on his way here, hinted by the wind picking up throughout the day—also by Piper, who he ignored. But Rhys hadn’t noticed until it was too late. Still unused to the new world's weather. 

Hancock eyed him, following a drop of water that slid down his face.

“Why don't we head upstairs…before the weather turns you into my twin?” Hancock asks, clearly worried.

“Sure.” Rhys heads up the stairs before Hancock can say anything else.

Once they reach Hancock's apartment, the ghoul walks into an adjoining room without a word. Rhys stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, not wanting to get Hancock's furniture wet. His mother had taught him to be polite, which he rarely was anymore. But it was nice to feel like the same person he had been 200-something years ago. When the mayor returns he’s carrying a spotless towel, bathrobe, and slippers. Rhys narrows his eyes at the items.

“I can’t imagine you wearing these,” Rhys says. The urge to make a joke was there, but he was too drained to try.

He was never very amusing anyway.

“They were gonna be your birthday gift,” Hancock smirks. “But you look like you could use them now.”

“I’ve never told you my birthday…” Rhys says, taking the items from the ghoul.

“I commissioned a certain reporter to find that out for me.” Hancock laughs at Rhys’ stunned expression. “Hey! Just because you’re one billion years old doesn't mean there are no documents about you left out there.”

“I’m only 46…” Rhys mumbles, turning to walk to Hancock's bathroom.

“Dont forget to add all those years you were on ice, Sunshine,” the ghoul calls after him. 

Rhys drapes his wet clothes, keeping on his somewhat dry underwear, and puts on the robe. His rifle and bag sat beside his wet things. The robe is blue and soft for something so old. Hancock must have bought these for a hefty price. Rhys realizes he has forgotten to thank his friend. His mother failed miserably to teach him manners. 

Hancock is sitting on his couch, halfway through a cigarette with his legs propped up. Rhys sits on the couch across from him, his usual spot when he visits. Hancock is the friend Rhys finds it easiest to talk to besides Nick. Hancock never really pried at him, never making the vault dweller feel flayed. Nick pried a little, but Rhys liked opening up to him. The thoughts of Nick made his face somber.

“You seem down, Vaultie,” Hancock says around his cigarette. 

“Yeah…” Rhys avoided eye contact. “Uh…I fought with…Nick….”

“Nick?” Hancock raises an eyebrow. “Nick Valentine? Robot Detective Nick Valentine?”

“...Yes?” 

“Huh...” Hancock crushes the cigarette under his boot. Then pulls out another, lighting it before speaking. “That's weird.”

“I guess…” Rhys watches Hancock smoke. “Why?”

“You guys are close, I’d have thought someone welded you together if I didn’t have you alone right now.” 

“He’s my friend -- was my friend.” Rhys’ frown deepens. “I spend a lot of time with you.”

“Was?” Hancock sits up. “What was so bad that you guys split?”

Rhys froze. He knew this part would come, he’d have to tell Hancock that he likes men. Which he knew logically would be fine, Hancock was very bisexual. But after what happened earlier, he couldn't help but be afraid. 

“I told him… about some feeling that I have about…someone.” Rhys played with the fabric of the robe anxiously. “He got angry… said I’d ruined everything. Told me to leave, basically told me to never come back.”

“....The fuck?” Hancock looked angry now. “Fuck, was it Piper?” 

“Why does…” Rhys grumbled. “Why does everyone think I have feelings for Piper?”

“Well, I guess it makes sense. You’re not close to that many women.” Hancock raised an eyebrow. “It’s not Piper?”

“No!” Rhys barked, leaning back after to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It's goddamn Nick…”

“Oh, well…that makes more sense.” Hancock frowns in thought. “But why would he be mad? I’d expect him to jump in your arms after hearing that.” 

“See, that's what Piper was saying! And then I tried… I fucking tried…” Rhys closes his eyes, the tears threatening to spill again. “She made me think I had a chance, so I told him. And look where that got me.”

“Yeah, but the guy is clearly in love with you.” Hancock finishes the cigarette. “Piper’s good at being nosey, but anyone with eyes can see he’s crazy for you.”

“Well, clearly not!” Rhys snaps, which doesn't seem to bother the ghoul. 

Hancock studies Rhys as he takes deep breaths, trying to will the tears away. No matter how hard he squeezes his eyes shut they spill over, Hancock jumps when he notices.

“Shit!” Hancock quickly hops to the couch Rhys sits on. His hands hovering around the human like he was unsure whether it was okay to touch. “I didn’t know you could cry… shit-- Rhys!”

Rhys tries sucking in the air, feeling his lungs struggle to work through the shaking. The instinct to run makes him try to stand, but his struggle for air forces him to sit down again. 

His leg, god his leg was just blown off. He’s lying in a puddle of blood. I’ll never run again, I’ll never walk again.

‘Am I screaming?’

‘No, I’m crying.’

That fall causes Hancock to finally touch him, grabbing Rhys and pulling him into a hug. It doesn't feel constricting like it had with his mother. Rhys melts into it, the numbness of his rational thinking clouded by the pain. The ghoul rubs his back, saying something Rhys doesn't hear. His sobs are like a cloud blocking out everything around him, the thoughts of Nick and the rejection spinning in his mind. Memories he never liked to touch on seemed to pop up like stubborn weeds into his already panicked mind. The hand soothing his back is distracting though. 

It almost felt like Millie, he had always appreciated her physical affection. Never the love of a wife, but the love of a soulmate. The love of someone who knew him, and still loved him. Who was so ferociously loyal, protected him, and sheltered him throughout the storm. She had been his first love. Real love, not like the love his parents gave to him in such short supply. The only unconditional love he had ever had, was gone now, like ashes floating in the wind.

“Rhys?” 

The raspy tone of Hancock's voice surprised him, unfamiliar to Rhys from 200 years ago. The dead man, who died when the world ended. Rhys realizes he’s squeezing Hancock’s frock so tight that he may damage the material. He lets go, his hands dropping limply at Hancock’s sides. 

“Are you with me, Sunshine?” 

Someone had asked him something similar once. Waking up in a military hospital bed. A nurse gently held his shoulder. 

“Hhg….” Rhys sniffs. “Yeah…”

Hancock pauses, leaning his head into Rhys’ as he thinks. 

“Should I kill him?”

“....Huh?”

“Do you want me to kill Nick?”

Rhys snorts. “If you did, I’d just try to repair him.”

“He’s lucky then.” Hancock has a distant air to his voice. “I’d never forgive someone for giving up on me like that.”

Hancock pushes his face into the vault dweller's shoulder. Rhys oddly feels like he’s the one doing the comforting now. An appreciated distraction, the embarrassment of his display already sinking in his gut.

“You’re a good man, Rhys. Forgiving someone so easy…I could never do that.”

“I blew up the man who killed my wife, Hancock.”

“Well, I shanked a guy for trying to swindle you,” Hancock shakes with a laugh. “We’ve got different ways of approaching shit. You want to fix the guy that broke your heart and I want to dunk him in water until he blows a fuze.” 

…….

That was the right call, wasn't it? 

Nick was still shocked, never expecting that to come from his friend. One minute Rhys was bleeding in front of him; the next he was alone, shellshocked. The information had fried his brain, or whatever Institute machine worked as his brain. He hadn't been thinking clearly when he told Rhys to leave, he still wasn't thinking now. Something inside of him was stirring. Some nauseous, heady feeling, like he was being possessed. The synth didn't know what it was, the original human Nick Valentine maybe. The man who only had eyes for Jenny was assumed to have died mourning her. Nick, the synth, still mourned her. Rhys had helped him get revenge, helped him accept that maybe he could have his own life now.

And it had been nice, Rhys and the synth detective. The prewar veteran whose trained eye was invaluable to their investigations, and the synth who followed after him. At least that's how it felt. Rhys was the north star, guiding his troubled mind to safety. Before it had been his work that he could rely on, with Ellie to push him to take better care of himself. But Rhys was everything. Someone to rely on, a partner, and a best friend. Nick had loved every minute of their time together. But Rhys having feelings for him changed things. He was still mourning Jenny, who this synth version of himself had never even met. 

It felt wrong, for Rhys to fill that hole. But what ground was that hole dug in in the first place? She was over 200 years dead, her face a blur in his mind now. He had killed her murderer, he had done all he could do to move on. To put Jenny at rest. The hole had already been filled, 200 years' worth of dirt and ash had buried it. Rhys had helped him carry the shovel. But he had always thought she would be it, especially now that he was a synth.

Nick found himself wishing Rhys was a girl. This would be a lot easier to figure out if he was. He could say that he's just projecting his grief onto Rhys. Pretending he's Jenny. But he's a man. And Nick isn’t gay. Prewar Nick Valentine hadn’t thought of men like that. The only conclusion was that synth Nick finding men attractive must have been a glitch. It wasn't even all men, mostly just Rhys. He caught himself staring at the man often. Watching his every move like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He was embarrassed to admit that he missed Rhys greatly when they were apart.

Rhys had been locked up tight when they first met, severe and as cold as an iceberg. He had melted over the first few weeks of their friendship. Nick had taken a lot of pleasure from seeing him open up and smile for the first time. The vault dweller was a little socially awkward but always did right by the Commonwealth. He wanted to help and take care of people. Nick could see the paternal instinct kick in, the urge to protect and nurture the things that he loved. He saw the love Rhys has for his son, the love he had for his wife. Love for the world, a drive to do something to fix it. He was a good man. 

And he couldn't stand to be around him. Not when he knew Rhys had feelings for him. Not when he wanted him so bad. He had felt guilty before for wanting the man grieving for his wife. But this was something different. Perhaps guilt to have let go of Jenny so easily;the woman prewar Nick had pledged to love forever. How could he break that promise? It felt greedy to want him -- to think about taking the vault dweller away from a potential relationship with a real person. Someone who knows who they are. Rhys was already on a stormy sea, a man out of time. Playing catch up with a world that had already grieved what once was. He was stuck grieving it like it was yesterday, grieving his long-dead wife. How could Nick subject him to a life with him? Put him through more pain? 

Nick had paced around the office about 50 times before a hard knock pounded on the door. His heart leapt when he thought Rhys had returned. But when he didn't reply fast enough for the knockers' liking, they slammed the door open. The sound made him jump slightly, his cigarette almost falling out of his mouth.

“What did you do?!” Piper yelled, slamming the door again behind her.

“What?” was all he managed to say.

“You know I've never seen Rhys cry?” Piper seethed. “He told me about his dead fucking wife, his fear over his son and never shed a god-damned tear. He looked wrecked, sure, but he never cried. And now look at what you did!”

“He was crying…?” Nick said, a little out of it from the sudden conversation. Nick hadn't looked at his face when he left. He'd seen him get teary-eyed but never full-on crying. 

“Look, you have the right to reject him, but you had no right to throw him out!” Piper walked closer, pointing her finger in his face. “After all you've been through together, you would just throw him away?”

“You don’t get it, Piper.” Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his robotic eyes to the rush of emotions zipping through him. 

“Then help me understand!” 

“Rhys and I—well, my mind, are from a different time. People these days have no idea what it was like back then.”

“What, so you just get to be the one to slap Rhys in the face with the good ol’ pre-war ideals then? Remind him of what it was like by treating him like trash?” Piper spits.

“ No—Damn it! Nick wasn’t queer, Piper. He had a fiancé!” 

“Well, aren’t you your own person now? Why would it matter who Nick was 200 years ago if you so obviously have feelings for Rhys?” Piper huffs. “That still doesn't explain why you threw him out!”

“I didn’t throw him out…” Nick looks away carefully. “I just asked him to leave…”

Piper glares at him. Nick throws up his hands in frustration.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” He huffs. “Ignore everything about the original Nick, throw out everything he had, and what—run away with Rhys?”

“Okay, ignore that Nick was the straightest man alive. Do you, Nick Valentine, the robot, have feelings for Rhys?”

Nick hesitated, making Piper smirk. The synth frowned and walked over to his desk, rifling through its drawers to find a fresh box of cigarettes. He had smoked through a pack already today, but these events warranted another. If Rhys was here right now, he’d likely be chastising him for his habit… threatening to stick a pipe cleaner down his throat to get all the nicotine residue out. Piper didn’t speak while he lit another cigarette, likely hoping the silence would make Nick spill his guts. 

“Even if I did, I’m an old beat-up institute machine. That's no one to be with. That's a dead end. Rhys wouldn't be happy with a thing like me.” 

“He’s already happy with you, Nick. I’ve never seen him smile so much as when he’s with you.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Piper. He’s plenty happy with everyone else. He’d be just dandy setting his sights on some other gentleman.”

“Yeah, but he wants you, Nick! He wants you as beat up and stupid as you are!” Piper points at him again. “You trust him, right?” 

“Well, yeah—”

“Then you have no right deciding what's best for him. If he thinks you’d make him happy, then trust his judgment! Don’t let some man that's barely even you anymore decide who you love!”

Nick was stunned by that, a million thoughts processing in his mind. 

As if Piper could see the turmoil she just created in him, she began to walk towards the front door.

“Just give him a chance. Give yourself a chance.” She cracks the door open. “If I found out you didn't at least apologize, I’ll dismantle you.   

Nick arches an eyebrow.

“See you,” Piper says before closing the door behind her.

Chapter Text

Had he really so little trust in Rhys, like Piper had said? He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t trusted the man who could read an entire book in one sitting and comprehend it just fine. The man who understood fields of science that Nick had no knowledge about. He hadn’t trusted that man to make a decision for himself. He felt silly, to doubt Rhys so heavily when he really should be doubting himself. Why did he have the right to cast Rhys aside when he had just tried to be honest with him? Why did he try to cut off the man who had held him up through his troubles and stuck by his side this entire time? Why did he want to sacrifice his own happiness for an ideal that is 200 years dead? Rhys had helped him come to terms with the fact that he didn’t need to worry about Nick’s old life. Hell, he had run around the Commonwealth searching for old Holotapes just to bring him some peace. The past was dealt with. So what was the point in worrying about this now? 

Nick had to talk to him, but maybe he’d better leave it for the morning. Let Rhys get his beauty sleep.

Before Nick could smoke his third cigarette, a scratching came from the front door. How many people were visiting him tonight? Before the scratching could get louder, he heard a laugh from outside, and the door opened. Dogmeat came running in, and when he saw that Rhys wasn’t in the room the dog ran around the agency. Meanwhile, Ellie laughed her way inside.

“I guess Dogmeat was anxious to see his dad!” She began taking her coat and scarf off, hanging in by the doorway. “Thanks for letting me borrow him, by the way.”

“Did he catch that roach crawling around your apartment?” Nick asked distantly. 

Ellie turned to look at him, his tone of voice catching her off guard. She looked around in confusion. Dogmeat sat in front of Nick with a whine.

“Where’s your partner?” She asked, concern clear on her face. She looked over to Nick's desk, the bloody cloth still there. ”Oh, goodness, is he ok?”

 “Yeah, yeah, he’s fine Ellie, quit your worryin’. ” Nick scratched behind Dogmeat's ear absentmindedly. “Just a little hiccup from his outing with Piper.” 

“Where is he then?” She watches Dogmeat poke Nick's thigh sadly. “Dogmeat seems to miss him.”

Nick nods, trying to think of a reply that won’t start another storm. Not that he didn’t deserve the backlash. 

“You miss him too, judging by how sad you look.” Ellie sits down across from him. “Did something happen?’

Just like her to read him like an open book. That's why he likes her so much, so sharp. A good heart and a good mind. 

“I did somethin’ stupid Ellie.” Nick watches Dogmeat curl around his mechanical legs. “Rhys-- uh…confessed his feelings for me.” 

“Oh, that's wonderful!” She says with a bright smile, it drops after a moment. “Uh— unless it's not?”

“In retrospect-- yeah, it's pretty wonderful. But I didn’t respond so well…in the moment…”

“Is that why he’s gone?” She frowns. “He’s injured and you let him leave?”

“Jeez Ellie, it wasn’t that bad of an injury.” Nick rolls his eyes. “No, I uh— I kinda kicked him out.”

Ellie’s eyebrows fly up in surprise.

“What—- why? I thought you liked—” Ellie stops herself before she continues. An angry pinch formed between her eyebrows. “I thought you guys were close?”

“Look—save it. Piper already came by and handed me a new one.” Ellie huffs out a laugh at his words. “When he told me, it caught me off guard. I was dippy for a minute there.”

Dogmeat pokes him in the leg again. Despite Nick’s glare, the dog continues staring at him with those wet puppy-dog eyes.

“I think I just needed time to think. Piper yelling at me helped me realize that I should trust Rhys,” Nick stubbed out his cigarette, the heat of it beginning to singe his finger. “ If he’s soft on me, even as a torn up synth, then I should at least try to trust that he knows what he’s doing…right?” 

“He’s a grown man, Nick. I don’t think he’s got a hormone-induced level of affection for you.”

“I don’t know, Ellie,” Nick sighed. "I can't help but think that he's making a big mistake. He's too smart to invest in an automaton whose hand isn't even screwed on right."

Said hand whined a bit as he reached for another cigarette. Ellie’s glare made him retract it. 

“Nick, he probably likes you because you’re one of the few kind-hearted guys left in the wasteland. It probably helps a little that you get each other's niche prewar references.” 

Nick laughs.

“I think I like him for the same reason.”

“Well, if you’ve seen the error in your ways, why don’t you apologize?”

“It’s pretty late Ellie, he’s probably asleep…wherever he is…”

The idea that Rhys was currently missing in action hit Nick like a ton of bricks. Ellie watched him with concern as his jaw worked anxiously.

“You don’t happen to know where he is, do you Ellie?”

“Nope, I’ve been roach hunting in my apartment with Dogmeat all day.”

Nick stands up suddenly, Dogmeat jumping to attention at the sudden movement. Nick turns to the dog seriously. 

“Good thing you’re here Dogmeat!” Nick pats his head. “Let's go find your daddy.”

Dogmeat barks happily. Nick makes sure to grab an umbrella before walking out the door. 

………………….

His clothes were still wet, it was getting late, and he'd rather sleep in those than in the robe. As comfortable as it is, it isn't very warm. Hancocks' apartment wasn’t exactly warm, especially with the storm. He appreciated Hancocks' offer to spend the night, though, since he really didn't want to get wet again. Rhys came back out of the bathroom to find Hancock still tripping off that Jet he took earlier, the ghoul  laid out lazily on the couch. The vault dweller opted to move to the other couch, sitting down and watching his friend.

“Do you have any blankets?”

“Like ones that aren’t chewed up by mole rats?” Hancock laughed lazily. “Nope. There’s one on my bed though. And I don’t mind sharing.”

Hancock sent him a wink.

“Hancock.”

“I’m just joking—fuck, sorry, forgot that you’re goin’ through it.” Hancock gestured to his bedroom haphazardly with his arm. “Just go sleep in my bed if you want. You can pretend like I cleaned it if that makes you feel better.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” Rhys said sarcastically. “I’ll take it. It's better than the couch.”

“See ya in the morning, sunshine.”

Hancock watched Rhys walk into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He held back the yearning to go join him. That thought suddenly made his high a lot less pleasant. 

The ghoul stood up to find something to do for the night, maybe harass Fahrenheit into that card game he’s learned off some drunk in the Third Rail. Before he could make it out the door, Rhys’ dog ran up the stairs. Hancock was confused but smiled as the dog leaped up to lick his face.

“Hey there buddy, where’d you come from?”

Another figure emerged from the staircase, someone Hancock really didn’t want to see right now.

“What do you want, Valentine?” Hancock glared at him. Dogmeat ran past him further into his apartment. 

“I’m assuming by your tone that he told you.” Nick leaned against the railing, his arms crossing.

“Yeah, he told me, motherfucker.” Hancock took a step forward. “You have some fucking nerve–”

“Cool your jets— aim that spite somewhere else. I know I messed things up. I just wanna apologize. ”

Hancock stood watching him for a moment, his glare still deep-set into his face. 

“Why should I let you? He’s already hurt bad. You might just make things worse.”

“Look, I’m sure he’d appreciate your loyalty–”

“Yeah, I bet he would after what you pulled.”

Nick frowns. He knew he deserved to hear this, but it still stung. Figures that Hancock wouldn't pull his punches. 

“I definitely deserve to hear that, but I ain't aimin’ to make him worse off.” Nick shakes his head. “I wanna fix this.”

Hancock still looks angry, but a little apprehensive. 

“He’s sleeping.”

“He usually reads around this time.”

Hancock grumbles something incomprehensible, clearly frustrated.

“Fine, he’s in my bed. Go apologize.” 

Nick's face falls. In his bed? 

“Not like that. Shit, Valentine, you got a filthy mind, or what?”

It's Nicks's turn to grumble. Hancock pats him on the shoulder as he heads downstairs.

“Feel free to bring those thoughts into reality. You can even use my bed! I’ll be in the Third Rail if you need to borrow some lube.”

Nick watches him slack-jawed, screwing his mouth shut as he listens to Hancock laugh all the way down.

The synth wipes a hand down his face, groaning. He’s glad that Rhys and Hancock have such a wonderful friendship, no matter how different they may be. Or how annoying Hancock is. 

He makes his way inside, hearing Rhys’ voice coming from the bedroom. The door was opened a crack, wide enough for a dog to make its way inside. Nick approached, knocking on the door timidly. Rhys’ voice died down at the sound.

“Where did Dogmeat come from, John?” Rhys said from inside.

“He led me here.” Nick pushed the door open further, taking a step inside.

Rhys was half under a blanket, a book was lying open beside him. Dogmeat must have jumped on him. Nick's grateful he wiped the dogs paws off before they went upstairs.The robe Rhys was wearing was hanging open a little. Only half of his chest and intact leg were visible. The prosthetic currently resting at the side of the bed. The synths' eyes widened at the sight, his cooling fans audibly kicking up. Hopefully, the sound was only picked up by his sensors. Rhys didn't seem to notice. The shock at Nick’s appearance distracts him.

“Nick…?”

“Can I come in?” Nick asks, awkwardly.

Rhys nods, gesturing towards the chair next to the bed. Nick pulls it a little closer before sitting down. He tried to fight the urge to look at Rhys' body. If he had any doubts still about his attraction to Rhys, they were falling short now. He doesn't know how he hadn’t been convinced to jump his bones earlier. That vault suit sure is tight. 

Rhys doesn't look at him, instead petting Dogmeat gently. The dog finally seemed content, laying at Rhys’ foot while the man sat half up in bed. The bond between the two was strong. Nick figured it was because Rhys knew the care a dog required better than most wastelanders, or the dog had naturally taken a liking to him. But Dogmeat seemed to care after Rhys as much as he did him. He’d never pretend to fully understand that. 

“How’s the ear?” Nick asks gently. 

Rhys just shrugs, watching as the dog licks his hand. 

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again,” Rhys said evenly. Nick would have thought he was talking to Dogmeat, the way he kept his eyes glued to the pet.

“About that,” Nick starts, anxiously playing with the fray of his coat. “I gotta apologize for throwing you out. For….everything.”

“Everything?” Rhys watches him finally, eyes wide with interest.

“I should have approached everything I did earlier differently, a lot different,” Nick sighs. “It’s a shame it took a talking to from Piper and Ellie to get me to this point but ... if at first you don't succeed…”

Rhys nods. Nick watches him, then decides that looking at the wall is a better option for now, lest he get distracted by his chest again. 

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, Rhys. I shouldn’t have been so cold to you…Look–” Nick adjusts his position nervously. “I didn’t trust you to make that kind of decision before. That was wrong of me. Downright stupid. You’re a smart cookie, sharper than a toothpick. It wasn't adding up that you’d have feelings for me, the beat-up machine that follows you around—”

“You aren't—”

“I know, I know. Look, that fact is that people already look at you weird now. For being my friend, for just being around me. You’d be selling yourself short being with me. Hell, not to mention that I don't have the same parts that most gentlemen have going on down there--"

"Me neither." Rhys mumbled. Nick raised an eyebrow at him before continuing. 

 “Anyway—  look, I was hung up on Nick’s feelings for Jenny. I thought since he would never give up on her, that meant I couldn't either. But I couldn't stop feeling for you. Bein’ around you so much didn't help, but whenever you’re away, I’m a junkie. I can't be without you for long without feelin’ like I’m missing something. “

Rhys’ eyes widened further, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

Nick huffed out a laugh.

“Don’t look so surprised. You’ve made a sap of me.” Nick shifts again. “I was too much of a chump to see it before, but I want—-well, I’d like to be with you. Whatever that means.”

“You want…to be with me?” Rhys asks, the same dumbfounded look on his face.

“Yeah doll, I do.” Nick gives him a small smile. “I’d like to know what you think about…everything?”

“Oh,” Rhys snaps his mouth shut. With the surprise wearing off, his eyes look brighter than they had before. “Well, I’m still hurt…by what you did. But uh—I forgive you. I still feel bad but…it's fine…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Nick frowns.

“Do you think you could sit a little closer?” Rhys asks, his face reddening. “Uhm, I’m not good with words. I don’t trust myself to say the right thing. I think…having you close would help.”

Nick stands up and deposits himself on the edge of the bed, Dogmeat whining at the movement. He faces Rhys, grateful to be so near him. He doesn’t touch the vault dweller though, afraid he may overstep. 

Rhys takes his hand in his own, staring at it with a little grin. 

“I want to be with you Nick,” Rhys looks up at his face. “In whatever way, you’ll have me. Friend, partner, lover, it doesn't matter. As long as I’m by your side.”

“I like the sound of that last one.” Nick can't help the dopey smile that spreads across his face. 

“I do too.” Rhys pauses. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I’m not sure where to go with this.”

“Well, I think I remember how courting works.” Nick chuckles. “Although, I don’t think those same social rituals apply much anymore.”

“Am I allowed to hug you?” Rhys blushes. “Or would a mob of angry grandmothers chase me down for that?”

“Hm, I think they’ll make an exception. Pretty as you are, I think it’d be hard for anyone to refuse you.” Nick scoots a couple of inches closer and finds himself wrapping his arms around Rhys, pulling his face into his neck. 

Rhys sucked in a gulp of air. They had hugged before. This time, it felt different. Rhys was too aware of his hands, putting them on Nick's back like he was touching a hot stove. He didn't want to touch Nick in a way that would upset him. When Nick didn’t seem to recoil, he melted into it. Sighing along to the bubbling happiness in his gut. After the whirlwind of emotions from the day, it was gratifying to feel content again. 

The only thing bringing that down a peg was that Rhys still had things to admit to Nick. Things Nick could still reject him for. Rhys pulled away slowly, hating the loss of contact. Nick smiled at him, rubbing a hand up Rhys' arm affectionately. The vault dweller felt himself melting again, but he denied himself the temptation to go back in. He didn't want to live with any more things about himself hidden, not with Nick. 

“Nick, damn it. Look– there is one thing  I have to tell you before…um…we continue with this.” Nick gave him a concerned look, “This is gonna be a lot harder than the gay thing.”

Nick reached out and intertwined their fingers. "It doesn't have to be hard. You never have to be scared to tell me something, Rhys. Not again, that's an offense I would be ashamed to repeat."

Rhys let out an anxious half-smile, his face quickly settling back into a frown. He paused, thinking of the right way to say it. This probably required a fair amount of eloquence and caution if he wanted it to come out right. His inability to string words together was impeding him badly. But Nick already knew him, better than anyone alive. He’d forgive him for his inarticulacy. 

The locker room felt packed. In reality, it wasn’t, but the room was small. Rhys had finished his aquatic physical therapy, the locker room was provided for all the patients to change in. Rhys had stood by his locker awkwardly for far too long, waiting for the room to empty so he could remove his trunks. The trunks were specifically chosen because they didn't show off his crotch too much. What if someone saw how flat he was down there and made assumptions? He had just healed from his surgery as well. The scars under his pecs were raised off his skin, very clear for anyone to see. The anxiety built up until he couldn't take it anymore. He had pulled his pants over the wet trunks and driven home. The car seat got wet in the process.

"I was born a girl."  He said simply, wishing he wouldn't have to explain beyond that, but knowing he'd have to.

"What?" Nick's eyebrows shoot up. 

"I was born in the wrong body, I guess. I never felt like a girl, so I stopped being one." Rhys couldn't get himself to look at Nick. He had never felt more ashamed of just existing.

"I had surgery on my chest and I take hormones to heighten my testosterone...I'm sorry I've been lying to you about this. God, Nick I'm sorry, we just came to an understanding, and I just ruined it-"

Rhys felt a wet tear fall down his face. Crying for the third time that day. He felt like the walls were caving in. He felt so stupid, he should have just ripped this awful bandaid off when he first met Nick. He couldn't even look at the synth now, couldn't bear to see the disgust in his eyes. Rhys felt himself start to have a panic attack. Nick grabbed Rhys by the shoulders to steady him. 

"Whoah whoah whoah!-- You're not givin' me a chance to reply dollface----here, let me…." Nick used one of his sleeves to wipe the tears away. "Don't cry honey, I'm sorry this is so hard for you to talk about. I'm fine with that. I don't care what's in your pants, I don't feel lied to either." 

“You sure? This is a big deal and you don’t need to feel pressured to accept it because of earlier—”

Before Rhys could continue, Nick kissed him. His hands stayed on Rhys' shoulders as he leaned back.

“Do you trust me, Rhys?”

“Yeah,” Rhys said dumbly. Crying and panicking forgotten because of the kiss.

“Then trust me when I say that being born a girl doesn’t matter to me. I’d love you as anything. Man, woman, ghoul, or synth.”

“Love?” Rhys asked, hoping that hadn't been a slip-up.

“Shit, that was a little fast, wasn't it?”

“No! No, it's perfect.” Rhys leaned in clumsily, placing a tear-soaked kiss on Nick's lips. “I love you too.”

The motion made Nick's hands fall, one landing on Rhys's hip and the other on the exposed portion of Rhys's chest. Nick's hand fell to the scar under his pec, feeling it lightly.

“This from that surgery you mentioned?”  

“Yeah, I had hoped the scar would be less obvious.”

“Well, your chest looks nice,” Nick manhandles him with a firmer grip. Making Rhys laugh in surprise. 

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.” Rhys gives Nick a cheeky grin.

Nick smiles as well, a love-struck look stuck on his face. He moves his hand to Rhys’ back and pulls him in for another chaste kiss.

“We gotta get you to bed sweetpea, it's past your bedtime.”

The vault-dweller checks his Pip-Boy’s clock. Nick was right, it was past his bedtime. That knowledge alone forced a yawn out of him, he had always been the type to go to sleep early. 

“Will you stay the night with me?” Rhys asks, mid yawn.

“Sure, uh…where do you want me?”

Rhys scoots over, causing Dogmeat to move over with him. He adjusts the blanket and lifts it in an invitation. Rhys watches Nick remove his coat, hat, shoes, and tie and set them all down on the chair near the bed. Once undressed he flips off the oil lamp that was lighting up the room, and he crawls into bed with the vault dweller. Rhys hovers, unsure how to lay with the synth. Nick does the same, still unsure if Rhys would want his touch. As if they hadn't been holding each other a minute ago. The vault dweller is the first to move, too tired to wait around. He slides up to the synth, pressing their chests together and tangling their legs. His arm folds Nick under the blanket with him. The synth melts into him, wrapping his arms around Rhys in a loving embrace. 

The vault dweller falls asleep fast, his quiet snores filling the room.  Nick smiles into the top of his head, leaving one last kiss behind and he boots down for the night.