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In the dark, all Boone could make out was the silhouette of the man on the ground beside him. Elsewhere's plush lips were very gently parted as he slept, and judging from Boone's previous experience in watching him sleep, he knew there was a thin trail of drool leading down his chin. The night was silent except for the light snoring from the courier, not even a coyote daring to break the peace with its howl.
The soldier gave a long-suffering sigh and sat down on his own bedroll, deciding that he could always keep pacing the next night.
As Boone made himself comfortable, he heard Elsewhere begin to stir beside him. He kept mumbling something as he emerged from the veil between sleep and consciousness, and with a great rustling of fabric Boone realized the courier had taken his undershirt off. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but the pale moonlight that filtered through the branches of the tree above them dappled Elsewhere's skin so beautifully; Boone couldn't help but stare. Elsewhere rolled over onto his back after a few moments, his tanned skin visible down to his waist. Boone's breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at the sleeping man beside him. Goddamn, was he beautiful.
Elsewhere had more than his fair share of scars; it was an unspoken part of the deal you took as a traveller of the Mojave. Some of the scars, however, had very different origins. Boone knew that the scars on Elsewhere's upper arms were self-inflicted, six horizontal slashes running parallel to each other on each side was too deliberate to not be from himself. That scar on his left temple that continued onto his forehead was from surgery, when the bullet was extracted from his brain. The two jagged scars on the courier's chest, situated beneath his pectorals? The markings that Boone refused to let himself dream of running his fingers over oh-so-gently, pressing feather-light kisses to the fading scars? Those were from a surgery Elsewhere wouldn't elaborate on, but Boone knew the purpose.
Some First Recon soldiers were in the same situation- but the NCR didn't quite care. If you could shoot a gun and hit your mark, it didn't matter what your assigned sex was. By extension, Boone also did not care either way. Elsewhere had enchanted him long before Boone noticed anything different about him, and nothing was going to change his feelings.
His gaze roved over the courier's naked chest, and in a rare lapse of mental fortitude, his mind wandered to thoughts of pressing tender kisses to Elsewhere's warm flesh, fingers gently tracing shapes on his back.
Another noise from Elsewhere drew Boone's attention. His eyes darted to his companion's face, and he made a surprised noise when they made eye contact. A half-smirk graced Elsewhere's lips when Boone looked at him.
"What're ya lookin' at, soldier boy?" The courier murmured, propping himself up on one arm. "Ain't polite t'stare."
Boone glared at Elsewhere, an embarrassing warmth creeping up to his cheeks. How could he lie his way out of this one?
"You were makin' some weird noises." Boone grunted. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Elsewhere laughed, sitting up completely. He closed his eyes and stretched, elbows and shoulders cracking as his arms stretched over his head. Boone took this opportunity to rake his gaze over Elsewhere again. God, if only he kept his glasses on.
"Boone, you're a goddamn awful liar."
The sniper's eyes snapped back up to Elsewhere's face, and he silently cursed the courier for taking his attention away from the dark trail of hair leading down his stomach. That easy smile of his was back, though, which made up for that loss.
"Still starin' at me. What're you gonna do, eat me?"
"You know damn well I'm not staring at you, Skelton." Boone growled, raptly watching Elsewhere's expression.
The other man just barely shuddered at Boone's threatening tone. He kept that grin, though, and leaned forward to get in Boone's personal space.
"Pullin' out the last name, huh? Ain't had that happen in a while." A slender finger reached out to prod one of Boone's pecs. "C'mon, tell me what you were starin' for. I ain't one to get mad."
That made Boone snort, a smile almost creeping onto his face.
"Just yesterday you threatened to kick a guy's head in, Else."
"He said he wanted't kill you, Boone!" Elsewhere indignantly spluttered.
Boone actually smiled at that, but hoped he had shut it down before Elsewhere noticed it.
"Boone, just," The courier sighed, a pleading edge to his voice. "Tell me th'truth."
The sniper worked his jaw, a nervous habit he picked up after meeting Elsewhere. He prepared himself mentally, dreading the reaction he would get after admitting his real reason for staring.
"You just looked peaceful," Boone answered bluntly. "Peaceful and beautiful."
The response he got was quite hurtful: a snort and an eyeroll. Elsewhere seemed to think Boone was lying again.
"You gonna tell the truth for real, or'm I gonna have t'beat it outta ya?"
"I'm serious," Boone snapped.
Judging by Elsewhere's frightened expression, his voice was a little more harsh than he meant it to be. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.
"You just looked so… gentle. And safe. It was like nothing I've ever seen from you before." Boone looked down. "And I was just thinkin' that I wanted to make you feel like that. Safe, I mean."
And loved, a small voice in the back of Boone's mind spoke up. He buried that voice without hesitation. He didn't deserve love, and Elsewhere didn't deserve the pain Boone's love would cause him. It didn't matter that they had grown so close as they travelled, or that Elsewhere had a habit of clinging onto Boone's arm in dark places, or that Elsewhere slept with the stuffed bear Boone had given him clutched tightly to his chest. If he acted on anything more than those basic gestures, both of them would end up hurt.
"You really are tellin' the truth," Elsewhere whispered incredulously. "I knew you were a big softie, Craig."
The sniper was engaged in an intense staredown with the packed dirt beneath them. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough that he could make out the little insects crawling around, bobbing in and out of cracks in the earth. His focus was disturbed by a tentative hand on his cheek, and looking up he noticed that Elsewhere was sitting nearly knee to knee with him.
Elsewhere gently ran his thumb along his companion's cheekbone, murmuring something under his breath about wanting to know if Boone was okay with his beret being taken off.
"Just make sure it's put somewhere safe."
Boone felt Elsewhere move ever so slightly closer, and became aware of warm breath against his cheek. The courier plucked the beret from Boone's head and set it beside where they sat. He ran a hand over the close-cropped hair Boone hid, causing Boone to grumble about his need to shave his head again. In response to this, Elsewhere cradled the sniper's head in his hands, tilting it down very slightly to kiss the short fuzz. He laughed after the initial peck and began to rub his cheek against it.
"What are you doing?" Boone mumbled, more confused than anything.
"Feels nice," Elsewhere said quietly.
They sat like that for a few long moments, Elsewhere kissing Boone's forehead and rubbing his cheek against his buzzed hair. It was silent save for their synced breathing. Boone felt safe, Elsewhere's warm hands on his face and lips on his forehead grounded him in this otherwise terrifying intimacy.
Before he could process it, Boone's head was being lifted and his lips met Elsewhere's, a tender kiss unlike what the sniper was used to from other men. His eyes drifted shut after a few seconds, and he slowly relaxed into the kiss. The courier's hands left their position in a gentle cup of his face: one reached down to take one of Boone's hands and guide it to his chest; the other came to rest at the base of Boone's neck.
The chest under Boone's hand was neither too muscular nor too fat, it was simply flat. Elsewhere had impressive pectorals for someone who rather recently had a double mastectomy, but they were in a similar situation to the rest of his muscles: developed only to the point of what was useful. Boone's hand immediately found its way to the rough scars, and he began to lovingly caress them. This elicited a gentle gasp from the smaller man, who took the opportunity to break the kiss. He sat up straighter and tilted his head back.
"Damn, Boone," Elsewhere said with a smile. "Makin' me feel all nice an' shit."
The courier closed his eyes, lazy smile still plastered on his face. His eyes snapped open after a few moments, however, in response to Boone's lips on his chest. Boone had his arms around Elsewhere, one supporting his neck and upper back as he tilted his body backwards; the other wrapped around his waist. His mouth traced a path along the rough lines, tiny kisses placed on every available inch of scar tissue. All Elsewhere could do was stare.
Boone felt a quivering hand reach up to the back of his head, fingertips taking respite in short hair. He knew he would never speak of this again. He knew that would hurt Elsewhere. That didn't matter in the moment, though, all that mattered were Elsewhere's pleased sighs and the hands running along Boone's back. Soon, the movements stilled, and the breathing slowed down. The courier had fallen asleep to the gentle pecks.
God, he couldn't fall in love again.