Chapter Text
“You used to be a model?”
Mike jumped at the sudden voice breaking the silence in the (now empty) raider camp. He and his companion and lover, Mayor John Hancock, cleared the camp on minutemen business for a nearby settlement. “Um,” He searched for a response, looking over at the ghoul who was flipping through a magazine he found next to one of the raider’s beds. “Yeah. Before I joined the army I did some clothes modeling and some shots for magazines. I did a couple photoshoots after the army, too.”
“This seems more like lack-of-clothes modeling,” Hancock snorted, flipping the magazine around to show the photo of a slightly younger, very shirtless Michael. His head was turned away from the camera, eyes glancing shyly at the viewer. His thumb dipped into the waistband of his underwear as if asking permission to strip for the viewer.
Mike’s face flushed. “I forgot about that shoot.”
“Heh. You looked damn pretty great more than 200 years ago, not that you’re not perfect now.” Hancock grinned, finding a relatively non-bloody, non-bullet hole riddled chair to sit in as he continued to admire the sexual nature of most of the photos featured in the magazine. “I feel like you had an admirer here. Wonder what they were thinkin’ when their ‘celebrity crush’ strolled through the door and started firing at 'em.”
“I feel like they didnt exactly have the time to think about asking for an autograph while they were getting shot in the face.” Mike grinned, glancing around the room for any valuable items the pair might have missed. “I think we’re done here. We can give the settlers the good news and then head back to Sanctuary.”
He pretended he didn’t see Hancock fold up the magazine and slip it into his coat pocket.
~
Michael stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and flopped onto the mattress next to Hancock. “I’m sore,” He whined, rolling over so he was mostly laying on top of the ghoul, resting his head on his chest.
“That usually comes with running around all day, fighting off raiders and protecting settlements,” Hancock said, hand resting on Mike’s back and gently massaging the muscles there. “Unless you mean a type of soreness that only happens the morning after, in which case I am very not sorry.”
“Shut up, it’s not even morning anymore,” Mike chuckled, letting his eyes close. “And we haven’t had time to act out any of our impure fantasies lately.”
“We have time now…” Hancock’s hand trailed down to the curve of his lover’s ass, only to be swatted away.
“No, I’m sore, remember?”
“You’re no fun, that’s what you are. But alright. Get some sleep.”
An hour had passed before Hancock became aware that Michael wasn’t asleep and wasn’t actually close to falling asleep yet, either. But it was nice just laying with him, Hancock decided, just listening to the hum of turrets outside and the more natural sounds of the night.
Mike eventually broke the silence, sitting up enough to look Hancock in the eye. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“You just did, but shoot.”
“Why did you take that magazine we found earlier?”
“I don’t know. …I guess it’s 'cause I get to know what you looked like before your 'big event that changed your entire fucking life.’ You don’t know what I looked like before I turned ghoul, and you’re probably never gonna.” He shrugged. “I kinda wish you coulda seen me back then.”
Mike took a moment to consider his response. “I don’t.”
“I guess you can’t miss what you never had. But let me tell ya, I was sexy as all hell.” Hancock grinned cockily, but Mike saw right through his facade.
“I don’t doubt it, but that’s not what I meant. I didn’t fall in love with John Hancock the human, I fell in love with the ghoul. You decided to change not only your appearance but who you were as a person when you left Diamond City, became a ghoul, became mayor, et cetera…You’d have been different as a human, I think.” Mike rested his head back on the ghoul’s chest. “Besides, I think you’re pretty damn handsome as is.”
“Thank you.” Hancock said after a while, rubbing circles into his lover’s back with his fingers. “…Did you know I used to be a natural blond?”
Mike’s head shot up. “What? Shut up, no way.”
“Yeah, and I kept it long 'til someone yelled at me to cut it. Sometimes I put it back in a ponytail to keep it out of my face.” Hancock smiled down at Mike. “My eyes were brown, though. Shame they weren’t as pretty a blue as yours are.”
“I love your eyes. I think I fell in love with your eyes first, the first time I talked to you after you stabbed Finn to death.”
“I could get lost in yours.”
“Now you’re just getting mushy on me.”
“It’s your fault, you started the conversation.”
“Are we gonna argue all night about who’s bein’ mushier or what because all this romantic crap-” Mike paused to yawn. “-is kind of making me tired.”
“Get some sleep, Mikey.” Hancock smiled. “You’re totally being mushier, though.”
“Shut up. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”