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Finding the rundown shack on the edge of the forest had been a stroke of luck. Cleaning out the four ferals that still resided in the marshy area around it had been a minor hassle, but they’d become efficient together. Danse always stood in front of her, a veritable shield against the haphazard teeth and jagged nails. Seven shots all together, and the area was cleared, Danse slightly scratched by one that had managed to jump up the back of his armor before Penny shot it off. Quick, clean, simple, battles were predictable like clockwork.
Which is why the shack was welcome. It threw a little wrench in the gears, gave them both a rest from the constant fighting and vigilance. All openings were boarded up, door included, but Danse made quick work of the planks. The splintered door rattled slightly when it was opened, the inside musty with more dust than air it felt, but it was dry and safe and it had a mattress.
“One bed,” Penny mused, dropping her pack and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Danse stepped out of the power armor, partially blocking the doorway with the frame of it. “You take it,” he said after considering the thin mattress for a moment. “I’m accustomed to the floor.”
“Don’t be stupid, it’s big enough for the both of us.” She pulled up a corner of the bed, inspecting for mold. Finding none, she dropped it down and coughed at the dust that burst out.
“You’d be… comfortable with that?” he asked warily.
She turned and saw him holding his pack tightly in one hand. Face flushed and free hand running through his hair and tugging, it was endearing how nervous he got whenever she suggested any intimacy.
A crow outside cawed as she gave him a second to sweat out her answer. “I think so,” she said thoughtfully, making a face just for show. She took a step towards him, ready to wrap her arms around him
Danse met her halfway, pack dropped and hands finding an easy place on her hips. He was looking down at her, smile stretched wide and eyes happy. There were specks of dirt and a few fresh cuts on his face and his stubble had gotten a little out of control and was right on the cusp of being a beard and he really was so good. His hands on her hips tightened a little, thumbs brushing against the bare skin under her shirt. The steady whump of his heart beat against her chin, turning her smile calmer and making her eyes slide shut. The sound of the wind outside the shack whistled keenly but it was just background noise to the embrace.
Then his hands slid up her sides and caught under her arms, her eyes opening in surprise as he lifted her to his height. A protest started on her tongue, eyes wide with indignation but he pressed his lips to hers. He was smiling into it, juggling her a little in his arms to hold her better and she huffed a bit but let him kiss her. It was frustrating how easy it was for him to just move her, but she let it go and wrapped her arms around his neck, legs around his waist.
“I’m not a little kid,” she mumbled when he broke away to press kisses to her cheek.
He grinned against her, switching to the other side of her face to trail his lips over the jagged scars across her lips. “This is better for my back,” he said, lips grazing over the corner of her mouth.
“Maybe if you wore the power armor less your back wouldn’t hurt,” she said, brushing her nose over his. One of her hands moved from threading through the hairs behind his head to gently touch the scar by his nose.
He hummed softly as he moved to her mouth fully, kissing her again. “I’m not going to sacrifice protection for comfort,” he said after pulling away to nose at the strands of hair that’d fallen into her face.
She took a few moments to pepper a few kisses close to his jawline before answering. “But we can sacrifice my dignity just fine.”
He almost grumbled that protection against threats of bodily harm was not a joke, but she silenced him with a kiss. It was heavier than his others had been and he was bright red and quiet when she pulled away. Her own face was sharp with a grin, hands cupping his face. “Put me down so I can go have a smoke.”
He placed her down with a slight sigh but he still bent with her to kiss the bridge of her nose. “You won’t go far?” he asked as she leaned over for her pack. The gurgling, wet screams of the ferals seemed like they were still echoing in both of their ears, reverberating behind his question. The hidden concern made her chest tight in an odd but welcome way.
“I’ll be right outside,” she said, fishing around in her bag for her cigarettes. Pulling the carton free, she stood and turned to him. “Think the bed over while I’m gone, big guy.”
Climbing around his power armor, she stood outside in the purpling dusk. The smoke from her cigarette curled upwards, broken by the slight breeze that blew in from the nearby river. It took her ten minutes to finish, giving him as much time as she figured he’d need to turn the offer over but not too much to overthink. That was a fine line with him.
But coming back inside, she found him already down to his longjohns and undershirt. He nodded briskly at her before taking a deep breath and smiling, saying that it had been too long since he’d slept on a bed. She took it from him, eager for him to make this move after all of the ones she’d made for him. Stripping down to her underwear and putting on her loose sleeping clothes, the excitement built in her limbs until she was grinning, eagerly unclipping her sleeping bag and shaking it open.
Their bedrolls zipped together with little problem, though his was bigger than hers to begin with. It overflowed a little off the mattress, but it didn’t matter as Danse climbed into it. The bedframe screeched as he settled, his eyes wide when she followed and pressed a kiss to the side of his nose. He cupped her face with his free hand and his eyes slid shut, seemingly eager for the familiar territory of kissing her, and she let him keep it for a few minutes. The gentle brush of his fingers in her hair coupled with how his nose grazed over her own was nice, he always kissed her like she was something precious. After everything that’d happened over the past seven months, she could handle being precious.
When he started to kiss her a bit harder she pulled away just a little, her hand going to his chest. “Lie back and hold me,” she said, the words halfway to being a command.
He laid down completely and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back flush against his chest, both of them on their sides. It was incredible how warm he was through the thin fabric of his undershirt. Metal grease, sweat, dust, he smelled distinctly soldier with the back of her head pressed right into his sternum. It would’ve been nice, her body against the hard planes of his chest like she was, if he wasn’t nearly crushing her with how hard he was holding her.
“Too tight,” she managed to croak, words thin in the dark room.
He loosened up immediately, half of an apology ghosting against the back of her neck. His arms hovered awkwardly inside of the bedroll and she wiggled around to face him. Their noses were at a level, his eyes widening at being faced with her so suddenly before his face flushed.
Her eyes flicked around his face for a moment before odd, unexpected tenderness passed through her and she brought the arm she wasn’t lying on up so she could cup his face. Her fingers ruffled his hair a little at the contact. “Hold me, Danse,” she said again, thumb brushing over his cheek.
He took a second before he adjusted them into a more comfortable position, eyes still wide open but he at least wasn’t crushing her anymore.
She fumbled as she tried to get her arms around his stiff frame. He’d been the one to accept this, and he seemed on the cusp of snapping, his body was so tense. The arm she was pillowed on was strained and the one holding her was too tight still and he had such an intense look of concentration on his face she would’ve laughed if she wasn’t so sure that it’d make him roll over in embarrassment.
“Hey,” she said softly. Her fingers grazed over the side of his neck, his skin warm where her fingertips touched. “Don’t be so nervous.”
His eyes flicked from the slants of moonlight coming in through the boarded-up windows across the room to her. “I apologize, I’m just…” He cleared his throat and his cheeks turned redder, hand still hovering awkwardly. “I’ve never held anyone like this before.”
The way her heart thumped for him could really only be described as painful. “Never?”
He shook his head, his hand finally seeming to find its place on her hip. “I’ve never been this close with anyone.”
“Well, how do you like it?” she asked. Her hand came to rest cupping his face, her thumb tracing over his upper lip scar again. It was smooth compared to the roughness and hardship written in the rest of his skin.
“It’s…” he started, trailing off as his hand smoothed up her waist, thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin. His eyes went to where he was touching her under the sleeping bag, then back to her face. “Nice,” he finished simply.
“That was concise.” She hummed a bit, brushing the point of her nose over the bridge of his.
“I am capable of being concise.” It sounded almost like a grumble and she smiled at the sound.
“I’ve never heard it happen.” Before he could say something else she pecked him quickly on the lips. God, she would never get tired of the slightly stunned look on his face whenever she kissed him.
His eyes stayed trained on hers for a moment longer before they slid shut and he pulled her in closer. Arms tightening around her, face moving in so that his forehead leaned against hers, a slight smile on his lips, he seemed content. Or maybe happy, she thought, eyes still open.
She pressed a few more kisses to his lips, finishing with one to his nose, delighting in the way his sunburnt face flushed. He was all big soldier in steel armor with a commanding voice and rigid sense of purpose but he cracked so easily with her. From how he looked at her like she was more than just a soldier or kissed her like he meant it, he was so much to her. This man had killed countless times but he was nervous and eager to hold her.
“When did this happen?” she asked softly, finger trailing down the slightly crooked bridge of his nose. His face had crept even closer to hers, her eyes looking out through the thin slats in the boarded-up window.
She felt his eyelashes against her cheek as his eyes opened. “I got into an argument with another scavenger when I was 16 and he broke my nose.”
“And this one?” she asked, leading up from his nose to the deep cut in his eyebrow. His eyes slid shut again and his lips pressed to her neck.
“Training accident,” he murmured with a kiss to her pulse.
Penny sighed at the kiss, moving her hand to thread her fingers through his hair. Admittedly, lying with him felt better than she had thought it would. The last night she’d been held by someone had been with Nate the before the bombs fell, but she shoved that thought out of her mind. Her late husband wasn’t exactly something she wanted to be thinking of right then.
Danse just continued leaving open kisses along her neck while she watched the slats of moonlight filter in. The rough hairs on his beard felt so good scraping lightly against her, rubbing the skin on her sensitive. Gradually, his arms became less tense around her and he seemed more comfortable. They shifted together, Danse leaning into her as much as he could without crushing her, their longjohns twisting awkwardly as they were tugged around but it was good. The patterns his fingers drew on her side felt nice and his thick hair was the perfect place for her hand to stay.
Eventually he let her go so she could turn over to stop her arms from cramping. His arms reset themselves around her, holding her closely around the waist while his thumbs rubbed light circles into her stomach. The hard circle of his arms felt safe around her, the security coupled with the solid heat of his body behind her lulled her to that hazy place right before sleep.
She murmured his name softly when he kissed the back of her head, his arms squeezing her lightly before she dropped off. That night, the dreams were good and distinctly him, warm and safe as he curled himself around her on the rusted-out mattress.